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kyuuppi · 1 year

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Genshin men Instagram HCs

Ft. Xiao; Scaramouche; Zhongli; Childe; Alhaitham; Kaveh; Tighnari

(gender neutral reader but wears a dress in Scara & Zhongli's parts)

Xiao // @ a1atus

★ ★ pre-relationship ★ ★

Very rarely posts

Never pictures of himself, you’ll only see his face in tagged photos

If he does post, it’s probably a new album cover of a band he likes, a particularly good plate of almond tofu from his favorite café, or—if he’s in a particularly good mood—a cute stray cat that befriended him on the street

Never edits anything but still takes pretty decent photos because he understands basic composition rules

Never tags anything but will sometimes write simple captions like “new guitar”

His pfp has not changed since he made his account and its literally just the blandest selfie you’ve ever seen—but he’s effortlessly photogenic so even when he’s just staring at the camera with a blank expression he looks hot

★ ★ in a relationship ★ ★

Xiao will unintentionally do his loyal boyfriend duties and like all of your posts but he never actually leaves a comment unless you specifically ask him to but you have to tell him what to say or else you’ll just get something like “your hair is nice” LOL

Maybe makes one post related to you but it doesn’t have your face—just picture of your hands holding each other or a photo he secretly took of you from behind as you admire some paintings from when he took you on an art gallery date

Still doesn’t write much in captions but if the post includes you, he always adds a little black heart emoji 🖤

Scaramouche // @ balladeer

★ ★ pre-relationship ★ ★

Vehemently claims he’s not chronically online but he definitely is

Def has a dark / emo aesthetic profile and puts more effort into it than he’d ever admit

Uses stories pretty frequently

Usually to show off his game stats and victories or to vent about some annoying inconvenience that's just happened to him

balladeer Jfc the train is late again I may as well just walk home everyday ffs

All his late night gaming photos are so highly saturated in his pitch black bedroom, the only source of light being his screen on max brightness and his violet RGB keyboard. If you raise the screen brightness on your phone you might be able to make out some empty Monster cans and ramen cups on his desk—he absolutely gives Discord / Reddit mod vibes 🤢

Definitely has a story archive just for Valorant 🤮

I wanna fuck him so bad it makes me look stupid—

Posts a few selfies to show a new piercing or the very rare occasion where he’s feeling really confident in his looks

unintentionally thirst traps the emo boy lovers; yes, I am talking about you and I—

Lightly edits photos or uses filters to make them look good but nothing extreme or super aesthetic, mostly just for decent contrast

Usually the first one to see any of his friends posts but never ‘likes’ them

Will leave snarky or sarcastic comments when the mood strikes tho

His pfp is a candid picture someone else took that he thinks he looks decent in—sticking his tongue out and giving double middle fingers to the camera

★ ★ in a relationship ★ ★

Makes a post or story for every date you guys have, even if it’s just a vague picture of your shoes together

He likes to show off that he has such an attractive s/o but also lowkey just wants to have a memory to look back on for the nights he feels lonely

Doesn’t post just you though, he’s always in frame holding you or touching you in some way—he feels the need to put some sort of claim cause he thinks people are gonna shoot their shot with you—he’s kinda paranoid and insecure, pls have patience w him

Likes and comments on all of your posts. Sometimes it's a snarky quip like if you post about you and your friends doing something funny he might comment “lmao ur so dumb” but if its a selfie or something you’re proud of, he leaves a little compliment and heart emoji.

YN0103 [bedroom mirror selfie of you shyly posing in a dress]

YN0103 Bought a new dress today…it’s not my usual style but I rlly like it 🥺

balladeer cute 💜

If anyone ever confronts him in person about his nice comments on your posts tho he’ll get flustered and claim his account was temporarily hacked LOL

His heart def flutters when you post a picture of him on your own account

He kinda can’t believe you’re proud enough of him to publicly post about him

Changes his pfp to the two of you together and, if you zoom in and squint, you can tell he’s kind of smiling <3

Zhongli // @ rex_lapis

★ ★ pre-relationship ★ ★

I’m sorry but I have to do it…

He has Facebook grandpa vibes

Like he has no idea how to use half of the features; stories are an absolute mystery to him. What is a reel?

But he tries to be supportive of his friends and will leave way-too eloquent comments with a Wikipedia levels of supplemental information

a1atus [ photo of a shiny Fender acoustic guitar laying on what seems to be a bed]

a1atus new guitar

rex_lapis Lovely new instrument, Xiao. You seem to have quite good tastes – that particular model is popular among many professional musicians. It is well renowned for its clear sound and beautiful mahogany exterior. If you wouldn’t mind, I would love to hear you play it someday over tea.

a1atus @ rex_lapis thanks

the way I cackled writing that exchange ygweyufgwyu Xiaos just like ‘thanks for commenting dad’

His pfp is not him—it’s probably a famous painting he likes or a beautiful white flower from a garden he visited

★ ★ in a relationship ★ ★

If you want him to improve his Insta game, you’re going to have to teach him, I’m sorry

On the up side, Zhongli is a great student and is eager to learn anything you teach him

Will try to post pretty regularly; usually somewhat mediocre photos of beautiful scenery like sunsets and flowers

Like Scaramouche, he enjoys the idea of documentary your time together so he posts something at the end of each of your dates

Your heart lowkey melts when Zhongli, very earnestly, asks after dinner if you’ll allow him to take a selfie with you to post on his Instagram

Regularly asks for feedback on his posts to ensure he’s properly taking your advice and improving :,)

He even starts organizing and naming story archives on his profile—simple titles like “tea,” “nature,” “friends,” and “my dearest”

Likes and comments on every single one of your posts and replies to all of your stories, even if he was there with you

Usually just lathers you in compliments on your beauty or tastes but they’re so thoughtfully written that it’s obvious he’s not “just saying it” and genuinely believes all the kind things about you he writes

YN1231 [photo of you twirling in a summer dress amidst a colorful of bed of flowers in a botanical garden, take by your friend]

YN1231 It’s finally starting to feel like spring! 🌸🌼🌺

rex_lapis While the camelias are lovely, they pale in comparison to your radiance. Your yellow sundress is also quite lovely and compliments your complexion in the morning sunlight. Truly a divine sight.

balladeer @ YN1231 @ rex_lapis ugh can you guys keep it in the DMs

- Changes his pfp to a selfie of himself smiling after you told him he should. The angle is a little odd but he’s so naturally attractive that he still manages to look good.

Ajax // @ tartaglia_on_top

★ ★ pre-relationship ★ ★

Doesn’t post too often but when he does, it kinda gives stereotypical frat boy

Like, lots of parties and shirtless beach photos with his friends

The surprise is the occasional posts of his little siblings and kids he volunteers with in between

He sometimes posts championship and practice photos from his martial arts competitions with captions thanking his team and mentors

Is pretty popular—has a few thousand followers, many are people he met just once or twice at parties or genuine friends and classmates, but the vast majority are online fans who just follow cause he’s hot LOL

Is the type of person you followed once after meeting a long time ago and never talk to again but you can’t bring yourself to unfollow cause he’s nice and his updates are kinda interesting and he’s hot

Isn’t online that much so he doesn’t like/comment on his friends’ every post but usually tries to leave congratulatory messages when someone accomplishes something or graduates

His pfp is a closeup of himself with a boyish grin he cropped from a group photo

★ ★ in a relationship ★ ★

It is super obvious when you guys start dating cause almost every post from that point is about you in some way LOL

tartaglia_on_top [photo of Ajax, sweaty and exhausted but clearly excited as he holds a trophy in one hand with the other wrapped around your waist while he presses a kiss to your cheek]

tartaglia_on_top Officially a 3 year championship winner! Thanks to my biggest supporter @ YN0720 😘

He’s not even consciously trying to post you all the time, it just happens because you are either always together or any memorable moment he thinks are worth an Insta post involve you in some way

You’re the only person, aside from his family - that he actually likes/comments on all posts for

Is the type of boyfriend to leave those super dramatic, embarrassing comments on your selfies like “DAAAMN BABE 🥵 finna make me act UP” and, in one particularly shameless case, “god youre so hot pls step on me queen 😍”

Please block him

He shamelessly liked all your past posts from before you too met as well—you were kinda mortified to wake up one morning to a notification that just said “what a lil cutie ❤️” on a post of yourself from seventh grade.

Changes his pfp to a couple selfie he took of the two of you kissing on a winter vacation in the mountains

Kaveh // @ kaveh.designs

★ ★ pre-relationship ★ ★

Obsessed with having an aesthetic profile

Like, the color palette of the background and clothing in his pfp selfie are carefully matched with the cover of each of his story archives, down to the hex code

He carefully edits every post and uses filters to make them all fit with his theme no matter how inaccurate to real life they may become

“Huh…I thought your bedroom wall was a bit more orange than this…”

“Oh, that’s cause I use 30% Juno in all my bedroom photos for a warmer finish.”

“???”

Despite his aesthetic profile, he doesn’t come off as particularly vain or narcissistic—only posts selfies when he’s has a particularly good hair day or changed his accessories

Most of his posts are of places he travels to (museums and big cities with interesting architecture) or his own sketches and rendered design projects

Online pretty frequently, always checks insta when he wakes up, before bed, and during lunch breaks

His stories are often project updates, interesting things he encounters throughout the day, or food photos

Only likes posts he actually likes and sometimes comments with photography critiques

tighnar1 [photo of a cluster of three bright blue mushrooms clustered against vibrant green grass and patches of dark, wet soil]

tighnar1 Proof the forest is an amazing place: found this beautiful little cluster of juvenile Rakkhashava mushrooms on my hike today. Great spotting by @ colleeei. Check my story for some cool mushroom facts. 🍄

kaveh.designs great photo composition, Tigh, perfect golden ratio on the caps.

tighnar1 @ kaveh.designs Thanks I guess…

Has a decent number of followers, many of whom are also artists familiar with Kaveh’s reputation from the Kshahrewar. Others just like his OOTD stories and charming smile

★ ★ in a relationship ★ ★

Kaveh revamps his entire profile once you two become official

His pfp becomes a candid taken by a stranger of the two of you together at an aquarium, holding hands as you point something out to him through the glass

It was taken by a photographer working at the aquarium as part of a promotion—the photographer showed you two the photo and asked for permission to post it on their official website and Kaveh was absolutely obsessed with the photo—it’s still one of his favorite and it doesn’t even show your faces

He still matches his archived story covers to his new pfp but his actual feed had become a lot more relaxed and natural now

He still slightly edits photos so they look as good as possible, but he doesn’t like using filters on photos of you or the two of you together because he thinks it would be a disservice to your natural beauty

Like Ajax, his posts and stories naturally become mostly about you whether scenes from your dates—candid photos he takes of you where he insists you look like art even though you’re just in pajamas with an unmade face—or even photos of things he sees throughout the day that remind him of you

Sometimes he posts stories of funny reels or art pieces he knows you’d like and tags you in them with messages like “@YN0709 omg remember when we were talking abt this?” and “me & @ YN0709💕”

Similar to Childe, leaves the most downbad, dramatic comments on your posts

YN0709 [swimsuit selfie]

YN0709 happy summer! ☀️🌊

kaveh.designs Oh my god my heart– 💘 I cannot believe I get to come home to this every night 👅💦

YN0709 @ kaveh.designs omg kaveh pls 💀

al_haitham @ kaveh.designs Every time I see one of your comments I regret ever learning how to read.

Alhaitham // @ al_haitham

★ ★ pre-relationship ★ ★

Only made an account so his friends would stop bothering him about not keeping up with things tbh

Checks his feed a few times a day but skips through stories if they’re too long/too many

Absolutely hates concert stories the most cause they’d loud, long, and filled with off-key drunken singing

Never likes or comments on anything unless it’s really interesting to him

Occasionally shares reels in his story that are like interesting history facts or official Akademiya announcements

Has a few posts (and only cause Kaveh would not shut up about it) but they’re mostly just pictures of book covers he’d just finished reading with a detailed review or literary analysis as the caption—but he’s mindful of avoiding spoilers for those who haven’t read it

However, he does have one post that stands out quite a bit

He posted an unintentional gym third trap because he just happened to be working out, as is routine, and thought it might be nice to share some tips on proper rope pushdown form

If you’re not a gym babe and don’t know what this is, I beg of you, please look up a gif or video and imagine Alhaitham doing this, shirtless. You’re welcome.

It has become his most popular post by far

His pfp is probably taken straight from his faculty ID card: plain background, bright lighting, neutral facial expression

★ ★ in a relationship ★ ★

After you two have become official and are pretty comfortably established in your relationship, he’ll post a photo of the two of you—probably one you took - with a simple caption like “Late night at Puspa Café with my favorite person 💚”

Everyone who knows him freaks out in the comments with variations of “omg hathie got an s/o???” and “wow he finally posted a normal pic of himself, y/n is a good influence” but he doesn’t reply to any of them lmao

If you use Instagram a lot, he’ll naturally become more active too because he enjoys learning more about what you like through your posts and stories

He likes all of your posts but never comments—if one of your posts interests him, he’d prefer to wait until he sees you later to ask you about it in person

He just wants an excuse to talk to you more

As he becomes more active, little bits and pieces of your relationship naturally infiltrate his feed

His latest book review post has your favorite mug in the background because the two of you had breakfast together

His informational story post of an antique Sumerian emerald he found at a street vendor is being modeled by your pretty hands because you were with him when he saw it and later given to you after the vendor insisted on Alhaitham gifting it to his “beautiful spouse”

He changes his profile picture to the two of you from one of your many reading dates, comfortably lounging on a loveseat in a quiet corner of the library—and this time, he’s softly smiling

Tighnari // @ t1ghnar1

Surprisingly active on social media

He thinks social media is a great way to share information about the importance of forest conservation and get people to appreciate the beauty of Avidya forest

Makes one post almost every day and multiple stories

Needless to say, 90% of his posts are of plants or small animals he finds on his hikes or while working

His most popular posts are those of cute squirrels and birds that are being nursed back to health after being found wounded—animals just seem to naturally love him so the pictures are usually taken by his coworkers because his arms are full with cuddly animals that refuse to move

The other 10% of his posts are from the occasional hang outs with friends or coworkers after work—snaps of iced fruit teas from Puspa café or colorful clay plates overflowing with Collei’s homemade pita pockets.

He makes sure to reply to or at least like every comment, particularly those from people asking questions about the plants he posts or how to become a forest ranger. Even simple “wow that's so cool” comments often get at least a “thanks, glad you liked it” from Tighnari

He tends to use some cute forest or food emoji when they fit with his posts. For example, 🍄,🥙,🦊,🐦, etc.

Also tends to use “:)” when replying to his followers because he knows it can be difficult to read tone in text-based communications

Tigh is basically a social media manager at this point oops

Because he is online so much, he naturally keeps up with almost everything his friends post and will like or comment on things he finds interesting

His pfp is a selfie of himself with a small yellow bird perched on his shoulder from one of his patrols

★ ★ in a relationship ★ ★

All Tighnaris written by me WILL follow the “fennec foxes mate for life” trope regardless of AU, it is an indisputable law of the universe

If you’re in a relationship with Tighnari, you should be prepared for stability and commitment in general

While he doesn’t go out of his way to make an official announcement post or anything like that, you become a regular feature on his page

Will tag you in anything you’re related to, unless you specifically ask him not to

t1ghnar1 [photo of a small, cream-colored fox brushing itself against Tighnari’s leg and looking up at the camera with large eyes]

t1ghnar1 On a walk with @ YN1229 this morning we spotted this cute little kit without her mom. 🦊 While adorable, foxes - even kits - are wild animals and should never be approached unless by professionals. We have informed the local animal control where she will be taken care of until we can locate her family. Photo by @ YN1229

He never outright announces you as his lover but he seems to spend so much time with you and refer to you so casually that his followers who don’t know him just assume you’re his spouse LOL

He doesn’t bother to correct them either :,)

bennie_boy Wow, that mountain is so high up - wasn’t ur spouse scared to go up there?

t1ghnar1 @ bennie_boy Y/n has been on so many trips like this with me that they’re pretty used to it. :)

Likes your posts as he see them on his feed and occasionally leaves a short comment like, “beautiful <3”

#genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin imagine #genshin scenario #genshin hcs #tighnari x reader #scaramouch x reader #wanderer x reader #kunikuzushi x reader #xiao x reader #childe x reader #ajax x reader #tartaglia x reader #kaveh x reader #alhaitham x reader #zhongli x reader #sm au #genshin sm au

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whimsicalwritingsandmore · 5 months

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Want You Back | ateez x reader

Pairing: werewolf!ot8!ateez x werewolf!reader

Genre: fluff mostly, romance, poly, a little angst?

Warnings: mention of being depressed

Word Count: 1537 words

a/n: hello! welcome to the first chapter of my new story! I hope you enjoy it, and I would love your feedback especially when it comes to structure and flow of the story. I'm still getting the hang of tumblr again, so if you'd like to be a part of a taglist, please leave a comment under this post! :)

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Chapter 1

How did it end up like this?

This question never left your mind as you stared out at the forest trees in your backyard from your balcony, arms folded with a blank facial expression as the cool wind blew by and the beautiful moon shone in all its brilliance and wonder over you.

Luna meant moon. And it also meant the alpha female of the pack with your mate, this being determined by the Moon Goddess herself. Luckily for you, you had eight mates. Being a Luna meant one thing and one thing only. You were just a partner to your mate. You were to produce your mate or mates’ offspring and most of your education was dedicated to learning how to be a good mate. You never learnt anything outside of that.

And you hated it.

You loved your mates through and through. You loved the way Hongjoong would nestle into your arms and nuzzle into your neck when no one was watching, because he wasn't the biggest fan of public displays of affection. You were enamoured with Seonghwa - every time the both of you would cook meals together and his not so subtle way of making you blush.

Yunho was the most endearing one you had met, he wasn't afraid to show his affection for you, and would grab and spin you around and then look you in the eyes with the warmest and sweetest smile as if you held the entire galaxy in your eyes. Meanwhile, Yeosang was the opposite, he was much more shy than Yunho but he never steered away from showing you how much you meant to him. The both of you would find a book to read together and would place yourselves in the little corner of his window with your head in his lap and him mindlessly playing with your hair while you both read for hours upon end.

San loved adventures and sharing them with you. He would always take you with him wherever he went and together, you would create endless memories of the day and take endless pictures with an old film camera for your album. Mingi liked playing games so you two would play board games and sometimes even make up your own games which was a special thing just for the two of you. Only the two of you knew the rules.

Like Seonghwa, Wooyoung loved to cook with you. He wouldn't shy away from giving you a big kiss on the cheek or lips and wouldn't hesitate to create a little chaos so you would chase him and he could scoop you up and kiss you again.

Jongho loved the little moments with you. When the two of you would just watch tv or even do laundry together. He liked just being with you. His favourite memory being the time you nearly fought an aunty at the laundromat for the basket and sat inside of it refusing to budge. He laughed endlessly that day as he watched you place yourself with your hair falling in front of your face and a determined look plastered.

These 8 boys meant the world to you. But with time comes growing up and growing up means taking up responsibility. They were in charge of leading the pack, taking control and handling all the affairs. And with time, things had changed.

You hardly saw them anymore even though you all lived together. And with time, you started to realise how lost you felt. You didn't know what to do with yourself. You tried cooking and baking to pass the time, but what fun was it when you didn't have anyone to share the food with? The boys were gone for long periods of time, sitting in meetings, negotiating pack deals and handling personal issues within the pack. They weren't there like they used to be and suddenly, it seemed like they just expected that you would be there for them. They started to take you for granted, and it hurt. It hurt a lot.

At first you tried to rationalise it. They were busy taking care of the pack. But then, Hongjoong's mom, who never hid her dislike for you, introduced the pack to a new member who she hoped would take your place. Lila was the only other girl the boys knew besides you and their siblings. And in their mind, it was nice to have a new friend, especially someone who came from a different pack from another part of the realm.

But they didn't realise they were neglecting you. And slowly, as you saw the way they strayed away from you and Hongjoong's mom constantly berating everything you did, you became depressed and struggled to do anything. The boys noticed but still didn't realise it for what it was.

"It's okay to take time but you can't be lazy."

"It's just a phase."

"You should dress up more like Lila."

You were tired, beyond tired and drained. Nights consisted of you being unable to fall asleep until 1AM, and mornings consisted of waking up at the crack of dawn with all the hurt and pain rushing back in as you came back to reality. All you wanted was to feel like yourself again. You wanted the pain you felt to stop. You wanted the tears that flowed every night like a rushing stream as you muffled yourself into your pillow to stop. You wanted to feel like you again.

Hongjoong's father was aware of his wife's motives and chastised and begged her to stop. But she ignored him and continued to attack you. He decided you needed a space for yourself until he could talk to his son. He would've done it already if the stupid rogue pack would stop threatening to wage war.

So he told you about the secret lake and the Moon Goddess temple. Werewolf history prophesied that the lake was where wishes came true and the one with a pure heart and soul could see the Moon Goddess herself if they were truly devoted. In addition, some lore claimed that the lake was a portal to the human realm. Since 1998, all of the realms had been closed off to the human realm after the great siege, and no one had been to the human realm since.

And that's where you spent your time. You befriended the forest animals, you made flower crowns, prayed in the temple seeking for solace from your harsh reality and tried to keep yourself busy for the day.

No one knew of this and Hongjoong's mom tried to insinuate you were seeing someone. But his father immediately put a stop to it, saying that he had you helping out with the young pups on the other side of town.

All fared well for the most part. You still weren't okay but you had a safe space.

And then it all went down.

You were snapped out of your thoughts. A loud bang pierced through the entire mansion with shrill screams and shouts.

The rogue werewolf clan attacked that night.

Everyone screamed and scrambled as fast as they could have. They pushed and rushed for safety as wails pierced through the air. The boys were on the other side of the town and in the large mansion were only you, the boys' families and some members of the pack and the mansion’s workers.

You raced out of the room hoping to find someone, but ran into one of the rogues with a sickening and sinister smile on his face. You could fight but you weren’t sure if you could take him especially with that giant axe in his hand. Before you could react, a loud clang rang through the room and the rogue fell to the ground groaning in pain as blood began to leak out from the back of his head. In place of him stood your dear friend Cleo, daughter of one of the maids. She breathed heavily, still coming to terms with what she just did.

“Cleo! That was amazing!”

“Yeah…hah, didn’t know I had that in me.”

As another loud bang was heard, you both snapped out of your thoughts and began to search for a way out. Suddenly, you remembered the secret passage in the library. Both you and Cleo scampered as fast as you could, tripping on your own feet as adrenaline rushed through you and you could hear your heartbeat in your ears. Finally arriving at the library, you slammed the door and began to find the book that would get you out of here.

You had barely escaped that night. You ran to the lake, stumbling and pushing the fear down your chest. You and Cleo both split up deciding that was the best idea at the moment. In the clearing, you looked around hoping to feel safe. But you could hear the evil snarls and growls approaching you. You didn't know what to do and looked towards the temple, a small prayer on your tongue.

After that, only one thing came to mind, you hoped those swimming classes would pay off now. You jumped in the lake. As you opened your eyes under the water, there was not much you could see except…a white glow. It gave off a safe vibration, you felt drawn to it.

As you tried to swim towards it, your vision started to become hazy.

And then, it all went dark.

#ot8 ateez x reader #poly ateez x reader #ateez x reader #ateez fluff #ateez fanfic #ateez series #poly!ateez

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extasiswings · 3 months

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Idk what this is but those new stills hurt all three of my feelings so have some angst.

“I don’t understand what happened to us. I don’t understand what changed,” Buck says, and Eddie freezes.

Because he knows. He knows exactly. Every big moment they’ve shared, the beautiful and the terrible, and all of the little ones in between exist in the back of his mind in one giant tapestry of memory. A pulsing, bleeding heart of a thing that he tries not to look at too closely because the fact that it is always there, so close to the surface, never letting him out of its thrall is sometimes more than he can bear.

It’s been years. Eddie’s gotten very used to being in love with Buck. Quietly, achingly in love with Buck, knowing he can’t have him but not being able to stop. Loving Buck doesn’t feel like a choice, it’s just a fact of his existence, rooted so deep and taking up so much space that Eddie can hardly recall being without it, the person he was before—before Buck, before LA and the 118, before tsunamis and shootings and lightning strikes. There are days when loving Buck overwhelms. When he can hardly breathe for the all-consuming nature of it. When the want is so fierce that he can taste it on his tongue. Most of the time though, it’s manageable. Like a radio on in the background, volume low enough that Eddie can ignore it. He can be almost clinical about it: fact—he is in love with Buck, fact—Buck is never going to love him back. It’s been years, so Eddie knows exactly how to handle these inconvenient truths, knows how to handle himself, has gotten used to them. He never expected anything to change, assumed that nothing could surprise him after so long.

But. Buck stood next to him in a cemetery and started talking about a woman he had only just met—a stranger—seeing him, understanding him like no one else, and Eddie—

Something in him broke. Some fragile bit of hope he hadn’t even realized he was harboring shattered, the shards slicing him to bloody ribbons.

And all he could really think was, Enough. Enough now.

Things changed then. He’s changed. Their relationship has changed. And he’s been telling himself that’s a good thing. It’s good, necessary even.

But Eddie doesn’t know how to deal with this. He doesn’t know what to say when Buck is sitting in front of him asking about it point blank while looking like a kicked puppy.

Part of him is angry. He resents being in this position, resents how long it’s taken Buck to say anything, resents knowing he can’t explain himself without revealing things he never wanted to. Mostly though, he resents the fact that after months of work—drawing a line in the sand and dating someone else, pulling away in an effort to establish real boundaries that might let him move on—he is still as much in love with Buck as ever.

Mostly though, he’s just tired.

“We’re still friends, Buck,” Eddie finally manages to say. “That hasn’t changed.”

“But something is different,” Buck insists. “If—you would tell me if I did something, wouldn’t you?”

Eddie drags a hand over his face, resisting the urge to touch his chest where a dull ache has bloomed behind his sternum.

“You haven’t done anything wrong,” he replies. It’s not an answer, not to the question Buck actually asked, but it’s as much of one as Eddie thinks he can give. And it’s the truth—Buck hasn’t done anything wrong. It’s not a crime not to love someone.

“But—”

“Buck.” Eddie’s tone snaps, raw and sharp and jagged. It sounds foreign to his own ears, an unacceptable loss of control, but he is fraying badly at the seams and needs out of this conversation.

A stricken look crosses Buck’s face, and Eddie forces his voice to gentle as he quietly adds, “Please.”

Please drop it. Please don’t push. Please don’t pull this thread.

Please let me go. Just let me go. Please.

Silence stretches between them for a long moment as Buck’s eyes scan Eddie’s face. But finally, as if he heard all the different things packed into that one syllable, Buck nods once.

“Okay.”

#chapel writes #911 spoilers #buddie

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blixssily · 4 days

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"i love you, it's ruining my life."

| being bailed out by your ex is sure to bring back lingering feelings, no?

| dazai osamu x reader

˓ ꒱ notes and disclaimers: pm!reader and ada!dazai. dazai is reader's ex lover from the port mafia. gn reader. reader and dazai are both in their 20s. incorrect jail description. not proof read, apologies for any grammatical mistakes! might be incredibly ooc and might contain wrong information about the port mafia, apologies for both.

˓ ꒱ authors notes: in light of taylor swift's new album coming out, i'm trying my hand at writing for dazai!! i'm bad at writing angst so please bare with me. :(

the cold metal confinements are tight around wrists, the officers must've cuffed you a tiny bit too tightly you think. the blank grey walls of your prison are as uninspiring as your thoughts, you can't even find it in yourself to even try to escape from jail. to the majority of the members in the Port Mafia, crime was almost always a guarantee during missions. treading the lines of the law was a common thing, most missions included breaking those precious regulations. it was almost like the law had just become mere suggestions, guidance that you could choose to follow or not.

and sadly for you, the hands of the law had finally caught up with you this time, confining you into a bland concrete box. you were currently sitting on the bed that came with every little cell. not even sitting on it was comfortable, much less laying down on it. despite how uncomfortable the bed was, it would be quiet a pathetic sight for a Port Mafia executive to be sitting on the floor and just staring at the wall so you decided against it.

normally whenever you were unlucky enough to have been caught by the law, someone from the Port Mafia would bail you out, namely Mori or maybe some other executive. you weren't too surprised when an officer informed you that you had been bailed out, preparing your usual apology and to listen through a few lectures from whoever bailed you out on to be more careful during missions.

you're escorted out of your little concrete box, you wonder if the officer is going to remove the hand cuffs around your wrists. you follow the officer down the prison hallway, thankful to not be sitting on that god awful bed that you could've sworn was just a rock with a blanket draped over it. you're expecting to be met with a very displeased boss, preparing your apology for your clumsiness in being caught when.. you don't see him at all. in fact, you see someone you thought you'd never see again.

he looks.. different. he's grown taller, you're sure of it. he's been ridden of his usual black trench coat you always saw him in, his right eye and cheek no longer being covered by the fabric of gauze. instead, he's wearing a tan trench coat now, a bolo tie replacing his usual tie when he was in the Port Mafia. his hair messy and curly, not that it was ever neat, god no. you stare at the absence of bandages around his right eye and cheek, revealing his complete face and you can't help but mentally kick yourself for staring a little longer than necessary.

and suddenly, you become hyper aware of the sinking feeling in your stomach. it makes you sick to look at him, sick that your brain subconsciously forces you to relive your shared memories together. you avert your gaze down to the grey grounds of the prison lobby, unable to meet his gaze without glaring bitterly at him. your ex had apparently bailed you out of jail. your ex boyfriend from years ago when you both were in the Port Mafia. a cocky little smirk adorned his features, maybe he hasn't changed that much in some ways.

you find it in yourself to look up at him, emotions brewing behind your eyes. anger, confusion.. mostly anger, and yet you find it in your heart to feel relief at that fact that he's alright. that's he's not harmed. he had up and left without a word, not even a goodbye to you. you worried for him days on end, calling and texting but to no avail which ended up in you just calling it a breakup, calling him your ex boyfriend. despite the relief, it's minuscule in terms of your anger towards the man you once loved. you glare at him, glare at his stupid cocky smirk and how he seems like he doesn't even care about the history between you two. it's like nothing ever happened between the both of you.

"you're the one who bailed me out? what is this, some sick game you've decided to play?" you scoff at him, there was no way he just.. decided to bail out a Port Mafia executive out of the goodness of his heart, no.. no no no. that couldn't be true. "shame, not even a thank you?" you roll your eyes at his feigned sigh of disappointment. an officer releases your wrists from the metal confinements, red mark were already formed on your wrist. you bring your hands to your wrists, trying to soothe your irritated skin from how tight the hand cuffs were. you don't realise the look in his eyes, the slight change in his expression when he noticed the marks on your wrists. he doesn't like seeing you hurt, he absolutely hates seeing you in pain even if it's a mere scratch or.. in this situation, marks from a police officer's hand cuffs.

"come on now, the least you could do is thank me." he says with another cocky smile, you wish you could just slap it off his face but something tells you that he wouldn't exactly be ecstatic with you slapping his face in a police station.

"what do you want?" you snapped, not in any mood to be dealing with his teasing words accompanied by his usual shit-eating grin. he couldn't have bailed you out for fun, or for some sentimental reason. he wanted something, there was also a price when it came to him. "ah, how harsh! you're breaking my heart here.." the asshole has the gull to even jokingly suggest something like that.

"nothing much, really. just thought i'd help out an old friend." he hums, and you don't know if his words only spark a new flame of anger inside of you or if it wrenches your heart. the fact that he would consider you an "old friend", when you were his literal partner when you both were teenagers.

"an old friend? be a man you asshole, own up to who you broke up with." he doesn't answer, as expected. you're not sure whether you'd even prefer a response from him or just silence.

"let's talk, hm? maybe somewhere else?" he suggests after some time, calmly putting his hands into the pockets of his tan coat. you notice the slight change in expression in his face, you've spent years trying to practically decode this man and it only added to his amusement when you both were teenagers. now, you're thankful you took the time to observe him. you don't know exactly what he wants to talk about but, you know it's something serious.

"fine." you begrudgingly agree to him, sighing as you notice him leaving without another word and you know that's your queue to follow him. you don't know what you were expecting from the bandaged man, but he leads you to a little café. you raise an eyebrow at him when you two reach the front door, not exactly expecting him to take you to a cute little café that sells pastries and drinks. he meets your suspicions gaze with an innocent smile, urging you to step inside before him. what a gentleman. you step inside the humble establishment, greeted with a friendly smile by the cashier before settling into a seat near the back. he sits opposite you, it's almost as if he's treating this like you're his friend and you both are just going for lunch.

"so? you never answered my question." you reminded him, crossing your arms as you lean back on the plush backing of the seats. "what do you want, dazai." it hurts him the way you say his name, his surname. you never did that when you both were together, he liked being addressed as 'osamu' or 'samu' by you, it feels like salt being rubbed into the wound when you call him by his surname.

"oh? i'm deciding whether to get the latte or..." he trails off, noticing the most unamused expression ever on your face. he chuckles at the sight, shaking his head. "i'm only joking." he hums, stopping his little act at looking at the menu on the table. "i.. wanted to see how you were doing, is all." he shrugs, not really having a good explanation for bringing you to this cafe or hell, even bailing you out of jail. "i mean no harm by doing any of this, truly." he adds on before you get to question him, knowing what you were just about to ask him.

did he really mean that? that he wanted to just.. talk? you don't know what you should reply with, as a Port Mafia executive you should've killed him by now for being a traitor, but as his ex.. you're not sure what to feel. truthfully, sure you were pissed off at him for leaving without a word but you just couldn't find it in yourself to hate the man.

"fine, one hour."

"oh come on, two?" he pouts childishly, a sight you hadn't seen for awhile.

"one hour and a half. make it quick." you relent once again, it seemed like he still had the ability to make you soften up to him.

and so with that, you two proceed to awkwardly choose out your drinks for the time being while at the café and try your hands at small talk. it was.. incredibly awkward between the both of you, undoubtedly it was a little weird to even talk about work since well.. him being a Detective at the ADA and with you being a Port Mafia executive, what was there to talk about? it's weird to be so stiff with someone you used to be so comfortable with, you used to be able to talk about anything when you were younger but now it's just.. not the same.

while you two were talking, your phone screen lit up. some message from another Port Mafia member came up, said something about it being urgent. "i.. have to go, it's important." you looked up from your phone to face him, rolling your eyes at the tiny little pout that graced his lips. "a shame, maybe next time?" he suggests, hoping to have another time to talk with you again. you get the feel he misses you dearly.

"maybe." you shrug, standing up from your seat. you slid a napkin over to him, pointing to the corner of your mouth to signal to him that he had something on his. he mutters a small 'thank you', a tiny bit embarrassed that he might indeed have something on the corner of his mouth. as you leave, he uses his phone to check his appearance and.. there wasn't anything there? he thinks it might just be a silly little prank on your end to tease him after so long, he mindlessly flips the napkin in his hands as he puts his phone down.

in the corner of his eye, he noticed some.. writing on the napkin. your... number? you had changed your phone number some time after he left and now, you had given him your current one! it meant that you at least weren't that mad at him after so long, and that you at least wanted to stay in contact with him.

he decides to text you, just in case you decide to change your mind in the mean time of your separation.

your phone lights up as you made your way down the street.

[unknown number, 3:46 p.m ➜ you] "same place, friday?"

#bsd x reader #bsd dazai #dazai #dazai osamu #dazai x reader #dazai osamu x reader #bsd dazai x reader

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m1ckeyb3rry · 1 month

Text

── THE GLASS PRINCESS // TWELVE

Series Synopsis: You wake up in a strange room with no memories, broken glass at your bedside, and a prince named Zuko as your only chance at figuring out who you really are.

Chapter Synopsis: The Tales of Ba Sing Se: The Tale of Princess Y/N

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Zuko x Reader

Chapter Word Count: 5.1k

Content Warnings: complicated relationships (strangers to friends to lovers to enemies to strangers to lovers to enemies to lovers), amnesia, alternate universe, lots of secrets and lying and mystery

A/N: going to say it right here right now…this chapter is 75% crack and goofy nonsense shenanigans LMAOAO. mostly because zuko and y/n’s relationship is so i see the light from tangled across the stars from star wars etc etc but the main man of this chapter & y/n are just the subway surfers theme song personified

“I’m very confused,” you said, sitting on Quynh’s front paw and gazing up at her beseechingly. “I need your help, Quynh.”

“I was questioning why you stayed here with me instead of running off to that tea shop you love so much,” she said, inclining her nose towards you. “What is the matter?”

“It’s about the tea shop,” you said. “Or, specifically, a certain employee.”

“That boy you met? Lee?” she said. Her muzzle wrinkled, though it was with concern, not anger. “Has he done something wrong to you?”

“No, not at all,” you said. “Well. Maybe a little bit, but he’s not quite aware that he’s done anything. And then there’s the whole problem with the Blue Spirit…”

“Your mysterious savior? What is his relation to the situation?” she said. “Dearest Y/N, you must explain at once before I am irreversibly angered.”

“Lee makes me feel bizarre!” you said, throwing your hands in the air. Quynh blinked at you.

“Makes you feel bizarre?” she said.

“Yes,” you said. “Incredibly so.”

There was really no other adjective for what it was. It was unprecedented, the kind of emotion you had never felt before, not for anyone – bar the Blue Spirit, but it was different even then. Of the same foundation, but taking a different form.

“You’ll have to explain a little more,” she said.

“It’s like my stomach is in knots,” you said. “And as if my heart has turned to a bird and is fluttering its wings about! What is this power that he has, that he can send my body into fits? But, for all that, I still want to be around him. It matters not what we are doing; as long as he is there, I am happy. Yet how can I be happy? He is driving me to failure! Why, for all I know, he really might bring about my death!”

For a moment, Quynh was silent, and then her body began to rumble. You were vindicated for a bit, thinking that she was growling with protective instinct, but your temporary satisfaction immediately vanished when you realized she was laughing.

“For a girl who spends so much time reading about so many different topics, you know so little of the world,” she said. “Though then again, this is the kind of thing that you have to experience to understand.”

“What are you talking about?” you said.

“He doesn’t have any special powers, and you aren’t going to die,” she said. “If I had to hazard a guess, I’d say you like him.”

Your mind blanked. The thought of you liking Lee was utterly preposterous. Lee, the snarky tea server? Lee, the passionate super-fan of The Mask of the Blue Spirit? Lee, who’d just as soon say something rude as he would something kind? If Quynh was to be believed, then that Lee was someone you liked, but that just wasn’t right.

“No way!” you said. “I can’t have feelings for Lee.”

“Why not?” Quynh said.

“He’s Lee!” you said helplessly. “It’s just — it’s just not how things are supposed to go.”

“Then how are things supposed to go?” she said. “Why is there a certain way that it must all happen? Things are rarely if ever set in stone, even in a kingdom made up of Earthbenders.”

“The Blue Spirit,” you said. “It’s supposed to be him. He’s the one who’s saved me, the one who knows the truth of my bending and my identity. He’s the one I’m meant to like.”

“You told him you’re a bender?” Quynh said. “That’s a new development. I thought you didn’t want to tell anyone.”

“It’s that there was no one I could trust to tell,” you said. “Until him. If a man has saved your life twice, then you can expect that he will do so a third time as well, right? So I did not feel afraid in revealing that part of me to him. I’d reveal anything to him if he asked.”

“Then there is a conundrum,” Quynh said.

“Exactly. That’s why I can’t like Lee,” you said. “It’s the Blue Spirit. There is no doubt in my mind that he is the person you foresaw me finding.”

“Hm,” Quynh said. “Do you think so?”

“I don’t know,” you said. “Lee reminds me that I am more than just a princess. I can live a different kind of life when I am with him — a happier kind. But the fact is that I am a princess, and the Blue Spirit shows me what that genuinely means. The reality of the world beyond the palace walls…if it were not for him, I’d still be blind to it all.”

Quynh sighed. “It’s not like you know who the Blue Spirit is.”

“No matter who he is underneath the mask, he’ll always be the Blue Spirit. He’ll always be the person who saved me,” you said, and then you slapped your hand over your mouth. “Uh-oh.”

“Uh-oh?” Quynh parroted. “Why are you saying that?”

“I just — I just accidentally quoted Jin!” you said. Quynh, who, being a bear spirit, was not exactly well-read, huffed at you.

“Am I meant to know who Jin is?” she said.

“She’s a character in The Mask of the Blue Spirit,” you said.

“Okay,” she said.

“That line is a part of the ending I detest! Have I become such a shallow person that I bear a resemblance to her of all characters? What will Lee think? It’s our greatest point of contention, that we do not agree on the ending, but if I’ve gone and adopted her worldview, then that means I do subconsciously like it!” you wailed.

Once more, Quynh began to laugh, nudging you and knocking you over, though she caught you in her other paw before you could hit the ground. Putting you back in your comfortable spot nestled against her fur, she continued to chuckle as she spoke.

“Quoting a single line does not mean you agree with everything a character has done,” she said. “And what does it matter to you what Lee thinks?”

“It just does,” you said. “It really matters to me.”

“Princess, I think that your dilemma is not a dilemma at all,” she said.

“Huh? Yes, it is!” you said.

“It’s not,” she said. “If you search within yourself, you will know the truth. Even in just this conversation, even without seeking it out, I have found it. And no one can know your heart better than you, so there is no reason that you cannot do the same.”

“I’ve been searching! But no answer has made itself apparent,” you said.

“Keep looking,” she said. “One day, it will. Until then, you needn’t decide anything. No one is forcing your hand.”

That was true. It wasn’t as if you were being threatened into a decision, into an acknowledgment. If your feelings really were the kind that Quynh was suggesting, then things would be spoiled, so you vowed to push them aside for now and focus on other, more pressing matters.

“That’s not the only subject that I have been mulling over recently. Quynh, do you think I would have made a better queen than Kuei is king?” you said. Her ears pricked, and her voice took on an alarmed cast when she responded.

“I know you don’t mean to be seditious, but the implication is there,” she said.

“Maybe it is seditious, but I still want your answer. The Earth Kingdom was built on your back; you’ve witnessed every monarch’s reign, every king’s rise and fall, every war and each bloody moment in the land’s history. No one would know better than you if I made the right decision all of those years ago,” you said.

“It’s not so simple,” she said. “Every king has inherited a different world than their predecessors. Some anre easier times than others, but all have their variances. Kuei is not a bad king, believe it or not. He is an uneducated one, an ignorant one, perhaps even an inept one, but he is not a bad one. He was one born to rule over a world at peace, one born to mature slowly and reign in old age, and he was given none of those considerations.”

“What about me?” you said.

“You are a princess who wants to love her people very much,” she said. “There’s always a place for that kind of royalty. However, there’s no saying what kind of ruler you would’ve been; the likelihood is that you would’ve been the same as your brother. Children are not meant to rule, dear girl. Remember it well; a boy should not be king any more than a crook should.”

You swallowed. “If only our father were still here. Things would be better.”

The father who you had never met, yet whose absence you mourned daily anew. If he were still alive, then would Ba Sing Se be as troubled as it had become under your brother’s command? You tried to imagine what kind of a man he would be. The 51st Earth King…you had read the stories and the songs until you had memorized them, but they were flimsy replacements for knowing him, for loving him.

You envied Kuei in that sense. He had met your parents. He had loved your parents and been loved by them in return. Neither of them had even known you long enough to love you. Were it not for Quynh and Kuei, you wouldn’t have been loved by anyone at all.

“They would be,” Quynh said. “But your father is gone, Y/N, and you cannot change the past. For better or for worse, your brother is the king.”

“Ba Sing Se is falling apart,” you said. “The great capital that you and Shan built is crumbling under Kuei’s control. The worst part is that he does not even know it, and he would not believe me if I told him! Isn’t it a sad twist? That I am the one with the knowledge but not the power, and he is the one who knows nothing yet has everything!”

“You are still a princess,” Quynh said. “Not a king nor a queen, but you are still the second-most powerful person in this kingdom. You are not as helpless as you are determined to believe yourself.”

“What can I do?” you said.

She angled her paw so that you slid off of it and onto your feet, and then she curled back up in her usual position. A door opened, one that must’ve led to Ba Sing Se, and she let out a gravelly exhale.

“If there is a problem, then you must understand it,” she said. “Only then can you begin to fix it. Do you understand what is happening in the city at present? In your own palace?”

“Not really,” you said. “Do you?”

“I do, but I also do not,” she said. “It’s an internal knowledge that I cannot explain to anyone else, but I am aware of it. Like an itch on my back which I cannot reach.”

“Spirit nonsense,” you said. “No matter. You’re right; even if Lee cannot tell me, there must be some way I can suss things out.”

“It’s a large city,” Quynh agreed. “There will be someone willing to help you. You only need to find them. As you found the Blue Spirit. As you found Lee.”

“Do you think I can?” you said.

“I think you can do a lot more than you are aware of,” she said. “You remind me of someone else. Someone I knew a very long time ago.”

“One of my ancestors?” you said.

“My own brother,” she said. “It has been ages upon ages since I saw him last. I thought that I could not quite recall his face anymore, but then I saw yours, and I knew that it had to be the same. I knew that he had come to be at my side again, however briefly.”

Her brother — Shan. The founder of the Earth Kingdom, who had against all odds taken a continent at war and turned it into a single nation that was united and powerful beyond even the wildest dreams of his contemporaries. What kind of equivalency was that? Who would think to compare you with the legendary first king?

You thought that Quynh’s passageway would lead you to the tea shop, as it usually did, but instead it spit you out in front of a building far too elegant to be in the Lower Ring. That meant you must’ve been in the Upper Ring, where the wealthier residents of Ba Sing Se stayed.

“Why am I here?” you muttered. Reading the sign hung above the door, you saw that the building was a girls’ poetry house. When you strained your ears, you heard the dulcet tones of recited haikus being whispered back and forth, though an unexpected addition made you pause. “That’s an awfully masculine sounding girl…”

All of a sudden, the door slammed open, and a man in a security uniform tossed out a boy clad in blue. Your eyes widened as he came flying at you, knocking you to the floor beneath him with the force of the guard’s throw.

“Aw, man,” the boy groaned. “I was just trying to show my appreciation for poetry — woah! When did you get here?”

His eyes were a bright, clear blue, though it was not the dark shade of the Blue Spirit’s mask, but rather a luminous, glittering color that pierced straight through you. For a moment, you thought that he must’ve known your every secret and intimacy — such was the depth of his gaze. But it only lasted for a moment, after which you remembered that there was no way he could’ve come to know it all just by looking at you.

“I was just passing by, and then that boorish security threw you at me!” you said. The boy leapt to his feet and offered you his hand, pulling you up when you took it and giving you a wide grin in return.

“It’s nice to meet you,” he said, shaking the hand he had already captured in his own vigorously. “I’m Sokka!”

“Y/N,” you said. He narrowed his eyes at you, leaning closer and scrutinizing you, an ordeal for which you stayed entirely still. Only when he was finally satisfied did he straighten, though he was still frowning slightly.

“That name is mighty familiar,” he said. “Have we met or something? I feel like I know you.”

“I…used to be in the circus?” you said, silently apologizing to Lee and Mushi for stealing their personal backgrounds for your cover story. “A very well-regarded one. I was, um, famous. For my acrobatics. That’s probably where you recognize me from.”

You hoped Mushi wouldn’t be upset that you had just appropriated his identity. It was the only one you could think of without the time to prepare in advance, and even then only because it was on your mind due to how absurd you had found it when Lee had mentioned it.

“We haven’t visited any circuses on our trip,” Sokka said. “So that can’t be it.”

“I’m a household name!” you said. “The main attractions tend to be, you know. Everyone across the Earth Kingdom knows who I am.”

This was actually not a lie. It would be difficult to find a single family who had not at least heard of you, but it wasn’t because of your nonexistent acrobatic prowess. Either way, it must have been convincing enough, as Sokka just shrugged it off.

“If you say so,” he said. “Can you do a cartwheel?”

“Not in a dress, I can’t,” you said. “Don’t be foolish. How would I possibly maneuver my limbs in that way with all of this fabric obstructing me?”

“Aw, I was really hoping you could show me how it’s done! I’ve always wanted to learn how to cartwheel,” Sokka said as the two of you began to walk away from the poetry house. He swung his arms by his sides as he walked, with a lackadaisical looseness you had never observed so closely before. Even Lee, Mushi, and the Blue Spirit had neat, contained manners to their gaits, each movement done with purpose, but Sokka was haphazard and almost unwieldy in his grace.

“If I were wearing pants, I might be able to demonstrate, but as it is, you’ll have to find another teacher,” you said.

“Wait! I have the best idea ever!” Sokka said. “You’re going to love this.”

You weren’t sure what you were expecting when he said that, but whatever it had been, it was not this. It did not come as a surprise that you did not love it; in fact, you were more befuddled than anything.

Sokka’s clothes did not by any means fit you properly, and the same could be said for your dress on his frame. He did not seem to mind, though, giving you a double-thumbs-up when he emerged from behind the wall where he had changed.

“You look great!” he said.

“I don’t know that I can say the same about you, but in the interest of being polite, I should like to tell you that you appear radiant at the moment,” you said.

“Why’re you speaking like you’re about to give a speech or something? Seriously, you Upper Ring folk are so weird,” he said.

“Aren’t you also one of the Upper Ring folk?” you said. “Considering I’ve met you here, you must be.”

“Nah, I’m just a visitor,” he said.

“But a very important one. Not everyone is lodged in the Upper Ring,” you said. Sokka blushed and waved you off.

“I know a guy or two,” he said. “No biggie, just another day in the life. But enough talking! Let’s get to cartwheeling. This is a moment I’ve dreamed of for a long time!”

“I hope you’ve been dreaming of being disappointed for equally as long,” you said.

“What’d you say?” he said.

“Nothing,” you said.

“Then what are we waiting for?” he said. “Show me how it’s done!”

There was a problem: you had no idea how to do a cartwheel. If only it were Mushi in your place! According to Lee, he was supremely flexible, and he had his circus training. As well, his patient and kind demeanor meant that he would be uniquely suited to being Sokka’s cartwheeling mentor. At any rate, he’d be better than you at the job, though that wasn’t really a high bar.

“Here goes nothing,” you said, taking a deep breath and raising your arms over your head. Trying to emulate what you had heard about the movement, you took a step forward and tried to push off with your back leg.

Somehow, it happened that your slipper came flying off, smacking Sokka in the face as you lost your balance and landed in a heap on the cobblestones of the street. Sokka shrieked as he, too, was knocked over, though through the dim awareness you had of the situation, you could not quite discern how a mere shoe had been enough to warrant that much of a reaction.

“I think you’re bad luck,” he said, rubbing his head. “No wonder you left the circus. I can’t believe they kept you around for as long as they did!”

“I’m out of practice,” you said, accepting the shoe he passed you and putting it back on. “Could I have my clothes back, perhaps? Or have you taken a liking to them? Because I do not think you wear green as well as I do.”

“Hey!”

Once you and he were back in your regular clothes, you readied yourself to wish Sokka farewell. You weren’t really sure what he was doing or why he was in the Upper Ring, but you thought it was safe to say that he was not the person Quynh was talking about, the one who would be willing to help you in solving the problems of your kingdom.

“I still can’t shake the feeling that you remind me of someone,” Sokka said.

“Do you have any siblings?” you said.

“A younger sister,” he said.

“It’s probably her. I’m a younger sister, too,” you said. “If you’re not an avid circus-goer, then that’s the only other option I can come up with.”

“That’s another thing! I’ve never heard of circus performers speaking so fancily,” he said.

“You said it yourself that you haven’t visited any circuses on your trip, so how would you know?” you said. “It’s a shame that you have these stereotypes in your head. You should do some introspection about where they originate from.”

“What — no, I’m not — that’s not what I meant! There’s just something about you that I’m this close to figuring out!” he said, holding up his thumb and pointer finger, pressing them together for effect.

“You’re not getting paid for it, so why waste the effort?” you said.

“I’m just a curious — duck!” he said.

“Duck? Do you mean a turtleduck? That’s an interesting way to describe yourself — oh!” you said as he pulled you to the ground and out of the way of an incoming boulder.

“Whose bad side did you get on, huh?” Sokka said, motioning for you to run along with him. It was nothing like when you and the Blue Spirit had fled from the assassin’s previous attack; you didn’t have that implicit trust in Sokka to protect you, and for his part, Sokka was just as panicked as you were, so all told it was a much less graceful exit as you charged through the streets of the Upper Ring.

“A bunch of assassins!” you said. “They’ve been chasing me on and off for weeks now.”

“Assassins?” Sokka wheezed out as you increased your pace. “Just what kind of acrobat were you?”

“One that made a lot of enemies — look out!” you said, jumping into the air to avoid the stone gloves that reached for your ankles. Missing their target, they slammed into the wall and burst into smithereens.

“We’re almost at our guest house!” Sokka said. “The others should be able to help us if we haven’t lost these freaks by then. We just have to reach there before getting, y’know, crushed!”

“That’d be ideal!” you said, covering your head with your hands as you rounded a corner. Sokka kicked the door to a luxurious villa down, shoving you in and then slamming it shut behind him, pressing his back to it as the three occupants of the home gave you both alarmed looks.

“Assassins — rocks — cartwheel instructor!” Sokka said, heaving for breath and pointing at you. You waved at the trio, who must’ve been the friends that Sokka was visiting Ba Sing Se with.

One was a beautiful girl who bore an uncanny resemblance to Sokka — indubitably, this was his sister, though unlike Sokka, her eyes swirled with something lively and unsettled, as if they were twin seas set in her sweet face. Beside her was another girl, this one with fine features like a lady but a rough aura like a wrestler, and on her right was a boy with the blue arrows of an Airbending master running along his body.

“You’re going to have to repeat that,” Sokka’s sister said. “What’s going on? Who is this?”

“My cartwheeling instructor,” Sokka said.

“In a manner of speaking,” you said. “I didn’t really teach him much.”

“You know how to cartwheel? I love cartwheeling!” the Airbender said.

“Why didn’t Sokka ask you to teach him, then?” you said. The boy shrugged.

“Dunno,” he said.

“We were in the middle of a lesson—” Sokka began.

“As I recall, we were about to part ways,” you interrupted. Sokka shushed you impatiently.

“Like I was saying, we were in the middle of a lesson when, out of nowhere, pow! There was a boulder flying at our heads, and then boom! We almost died from it!” he said. You decided to just be quiet and let him tell the story; he had a flair for dramatics that you could not hope to match.

“What? Why?” his sister said.

“No idea! She said that she’s been being chased by those assassins for a while now!” Sokka said.

“Did you bring a criminal into our house?” his sister said, arching a brow at you. “Are you a criminal?”

“Not as far as I know,” you said. “I suppose I’m not really meant to be out here, but it’s not against any significant law for me to be. It’s just a family rule I’ve broken.”

“You said that they’re assassins?” the younger of the two girls said. “There’s no way. I didn’t sense anyone coming near us except for you two and some of the Dai Li agents.”

“They must be super sneaky!” Sokka said. “Right, Y/N?”

“Hm, it might be,” you said, lost in thought at this suggestion. Though you had no idea what she meant when she said she had sensed the Dai Li’s presence, you also had no reason to think that the girl was lying. There were two things that that could mean if what she said was correct, and neither of them were options you wanted to be true.

“Sokka,” his sister said. It was then that you realized that she, the Airbender, and the other girl were staring at you. “What did you just call your new friend?”

“You’re right! I can’t believe I forgot to do introductions! Y/N, this is Aang, Toph, and my sister Katara. Everyone, this is Y/N,” Sokka said, pointing at everyone as he said their names.

“Hello,” you said. “It’s lovely to meet you all.”

“Sokka!” Katara said. “You dumb, idiotic genius! We’ve been trying to talk to the king for ages, and you just happened to meet his sister while out and about!”

“That’s where I knew your name from!” Sokka said. “Princess Y/N, duh. Wait! You’re Princess Y/N!”

“Um,” you said, swearing internally at the fact that you had not thought to come up with a new name to go along with your alter ego as an acrobat. “No, I’m not.”

“She’s lying,” Toph said. “I have seismic sense, so you can forget about trying to make things up, princess. I’ll be able to tell in an instant.”

“You don’t know how good it is to meet you!” Aang said. “We’ve been trying to talk to your brother for a while now, but it’s not been going well.”

“Why would you want to talk to Kuei?” you said before you could stop yourself, rolling your eyes at the mere thought of anyone actually desiring to speak with him. “He’s not the most stimulating conversationalist.”

“You’re Princess Y/N!” Sokka said again. “You’re the princess of the Earth Kingdom, and I made you wear my clothes and do cartwheels!”

“When you put it like that, it does sound like a grave offense,” you said. “Shall I have you executed for it?”

“No!” he said, falling to his knees and bowing. “Oh esteemed, valued, generous, kind, benevolent princess, please spare my life! Please please please please please please—”

“I was only joking,” you informed him.

“We have to speak to the Earth King,” Aang said. “Do you think you could get us an audience? It’s urgent. If it helps, tell him the Avatar is the one making the request.”

“You’re the Avatar?” you said. Aang nodded at you, his expression grave and at odds with his youthful countenance. “For some reason, I thought you’d be older.”

“He’s technically 112 years old,” Sokka piped up from where he was now supine on the floor by your feet. “So there’s that.”

“I see,” you said. “You look good for your age, then. My apologies for making assumptions.”

“It’s complicated,” Aang said. “Do you think you can help us, though?”

“We’re kind of at our wits’ ends,” Katara added.

“Those Earth Palace dolts are the next level of stupid,” Toph said. “It’s all a bunch of bureaucracy and rules. Blech.”

“I can’t guarantee it,” you said. “I’m sorry. I’m not even allowed to be here right now. You see, I’m forbidden to leave my chambers. It’s only through the power of a spirit named Quynh that I may enter and exit without detection — though, I’m beginning to doubt how true that part is, but that’s an issue for me to work through on my own time. I’ll do my best to help you all while I’m at it, but for the most part, my hands are tied.”

“Okay,” Katara said when it became obvious that the others were too disappointed to come up with a response. “There’s nothing more we can ask of you. Just — it’s really urgent. You have to mean it when you say you’ll do your best.”

“I do mean it,” you said. “But in case, is there any other message you’d like me to pass along?”

“There is a war,” Aang said. “He has to ignore everything that he’s been told and realize that. There’s a war going on, and without his support, we’re going to lose it.”

A war. Of course. It made so much sense. The refugees. The injuries. The state of Ba Sing Se. It all pointed towards a distant yet rapidly encroaching conflict. That was the problem. That was what you needed to understand, or at least begin with understanding — there were other things that the Avatar and his friends had accidentally or purposefully revealed, smaller details that you would pick at and dissect until their natural conclusions, but this was the main point.

Not yet, though. These were things best done in the harsh, inescapable brightness of day, and tonight’s twilight was already waning. Soon, it would be time for the daily lighting of the Firelight Fountain’s lanterns, and there was something else you wanted to do before that.

Blending into crowds when you could, creeping past checkpoints and keeping your head lowered to avoid detection, you snuck into the Lower Ring, making your way towards a certain place, Quynh’s words coming to mind all of a sudden.

He would be starting his evening shift soon. You could picture him putting his apron on, rolling up his sleeves and complaining to his uncle about how much he hated his job and how they deserved to be somewhere else — the circus, perhaps? You weren’t sure, for he never really elaborated, but that was because the alternative location was not as important as the dissatisfaction he felt.

Despite your best efforts to quash it for fear of looking like a fool — what normal person was so excited by the prospect of apologizing to the dourest boy born to humanity? — a smile formed on your face as you began to walk faster, towards the tea shop where you knew Lee would be waiting.

taglist (comment/send an ask/dm to be added): @rinisfruity14 @c4ttheart @blacky-rose @shizko @marsbars09 @happyplaidpersonfestival @catborglar @camilleverreault @nerdybouquetofkittens-blog @lovialy @heart4hees @stefnarda @ioonatv

#zuko x reader #zuko x y/n #zuko x you #zuko #avatar the last airbender #atla #reader insert #canon au #the glass princess #m1ckeyb3rry writes

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sacchxrine05 · 2 months

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Yuumori Characters as Disney Princesses (cus I’m bored :))

I’m gonna preface this by saying that some of these you’re just gonna have to trust me on cus I chose them just from pure vibes alone and went from there. I also haven’t re-read/watched Yuumori in a while nor have I watched any Disney movies as of late so again, just trust me bro lmao. I came up with most of these at 2am so sorry in advance.

Also, if someone has already done this, I’m sorry and I hope my choices aren’t just the same lmao.

Liam - Aurora/Sleeping Beauty

So this one is mostly just cus they both ended up sleeping for a long ass time lmao. Liam was in a coma after the fall for x months and Aurora was cursed to an eternal sleep unless her true love kissed her awake (we won’t talk about the horrors of the original fairytale, I’ve tried to blank that out of my memory tyvm). They’re also both blondes…uh huh. Aurora doesn’t have much personality that I can remember other than being an animal lover and a good singer so…that’s just all I have lmao. I also just think Liam would make a very cute Sleeping Beauty lmao.

Albert - Jasmine

I did consider giving Albert Rapunzel cus of the whole locked away in a tower thing, but outside of that and having shitty mothers (Mother Gothel wasn’t even Rapunzel’s real mother but still) there isn’t much similarity personality wise? Idk. I picked Jasmine just cus they both come from rich families yet have no patience for other rich people. Jasmine also disguised herself and went into the town/city to pretend she was a normal person and that feels kinda Albert-ish? They’re also both smart and sarcastic so Y’know.

Louis - Cinderella

This one feels kinda obvious lmao. Both were raised by awful rich people who treated them like a servant, both were orphans and both tended to the upkeep of their homes. I do think Louis has more of a backbone than Cinderella, especially towards the end of Part 1 of the manga. Also again: both are blondes lmao.

Moran - Merida

So…this one is mostly vibes but also not. I think Moran has a similar wild streak to Merida and accidentally turning a loved one into a bear because he didn’t watch his wording when asking a witch for a spell sounds like something Moran might do? Bear (hah) in mind I haven’t re-read Yuumori in a while so I may be wrong on that. Also I guess bows and arrows were the guns before guns were invented so…so there’s that lmao.

Bonde - Mulan

Feels like another obvious one? They both disguised their genders to achieve a goal (although I did interpret James to be a trans man whereas Mulan wasn’t rly? Cus she went back to presenting as female after the war so idk). They’re also both pretty outspoken and don’t care for the roles society has put them in as women and actively break that stigma (Mulan by going to war and James by often dressing as men even before he transitioned). Idk I just like this one lmao.

Fred - Snow White

Again, this is mostly vibes. I’m pretty sure Snow White is the youngest of the Disney Princesses at 14 (Don’t quote me on that cus I could be wrong), so I feel like that parallels Fred being the youngest of the Crime Gang. Snow White also has a connection to animals which can also connect to Fred’s love of cats and nature in general as he does most (all?) of the gardening. I think they’re both pretty quiet and shy and that’s all I really have lmao.

Mycroft - Megara

Okay, okay, relax, I know Megara isn’t an official Disney Princess (she SHOULD be, but whatever), but she’s the only one I could really see as being similar to Mycroft? Ya’ll are really just gonna have to trust me on this one lmao. I just think they’re both pretty independent and cynical and sarcastic and just…I really don’t know the vibes just fit, I can’t explain it.

Sherlock - Ariel

OKAY👏HEAR👏ME👏OUT. This is the only one I’m 100% confident on BSJDNKFS. They both have a niche obsession that they collect items from, Ariel with humans and Sherlock with Mysteries/Crime. They both make massive life changes for the man they love (a man which, by the way, they barely knew lmao), Ariel in becoming human and Sherlock by leaving his life, family & friends behind to live with Liam in New York. They also almost died to achieve this, Sherl from leaping off a goddamn bridge to save Liam and Ariel by her deal with Ursula. IT WORKS, I’M TELLING YOU.

That’s all I have, I was gonna do other characters but I just hit a brick wall with it lmao. (I considered John to be either Tiana or Belle, but I’ll leave that up to you 👀)

If you made it this far thank you for listening to my bullshit lmao.

#moriarty the patriot #yuukoku no moriarty #sherlock holmes #william james moriarty #albert james moriarty #louis james moriarty #sebastian moran #james bonde #fred porlock #mycroft holmes #sherliam

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dumplingsfordays · 8 months

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sighs of sleep

pairing - gepard x gn!reader (they/them)

genre - fluff

summary - a hallucination of your sleep-deprived brain keeps you awake late at night, so you visit your roommate across the hall to ask to sleep in his room.

cw! - fluff, mentions of stalking (not by gepard or reader), comfort, overly kind/doormat!reader, pining (mostly from gepard), shy!gepard, overthinking!gepard, hugging while sleeping in the same bed, swearing, gepard has a lil crush on reader <3, gepard and reader are roommates

i wrote this entire thing at like 1 in the morning so apologies for any mistakes...

kinda based on a dream of mine where I saw this white face in my window and it freaked be out so ig this is self-indulgence (again lmao)

i love this art so much 😭😭 geppie's so sweet. art credit!!

playlist : after dark (mr kitty), neglect (mr kitty), the beach (instrumental, slowed, and reverb) (the neighbourhood)

As always, thank you for reading :)

++++

It was dark in your room.

Nightfall had come several hours before, but when you leaned back in your chair and looked over at the small icon at the bottom-right of the laptop in front of you, you were surprised to read '2:26 AM' in white lettering. You didn't think that you've been working for so long, and yet, somehow, time passed much quicker than you anticipated.

You didn't plan on pulling an all-nighter - in fact, you initially wanted to watch a movie in your pajamas, maybe with a snack or something to drink, and then go to sleep at what would be considered a reasonable hour for Fridays. And then, after you slept, you would awake feeling perfectly rested, and maybe sleep in for a change. But noooo, apparently that was asking too much, because some annoying coworkers decided to call you last-minute at 1 in the morning to ask you to fill out some documents.

You were kind and helpful, and not wanting to disappoint, you did what they asked of you. Voila! Here you were - finished, emails sent, eyes riddled with exhaustion, hands aching, brain desperately wanting to sleep.

You stood up from your seat with a sigh, and languidly lumbered over to your bed. You didn't bother to put on pajamas when you undressed - you were way too tired for that. As you looked over to the window opposite your bed, however-

You saw something, peeking underneath the half-closed blinds.

In your now-fleeting memory of it, it seemed to be a ghostly, white, featureless face that briefly appeared and disappeared when you looked over to the window, and you were still naked.

Was this a stalker? Some creepy person that magically climbed up to the second-story window to look at your bare form?

Your shivered at the thought, and immediately grabbed the shirt that your were wearing. You shoved it on, pulling down slightly on its hem to help cover your body, and ran towards the blinds to lower them, just in case this face was an actual person and not just a hallucination provided by your sleepless brain.

Even when you lowered the blinds, however, you couldn't shake the feeling of being watched. You didn't have any cameras in your room, and your roommate wasn't the type of person to install them without your request to do so.

You finally decided that you wanted to sleep, and trying your utmost best to forget this event, you crawled into your bed and turned off the lights.

But your stubborn, sleep-deprived brain was a cruel mistress, and to your anguish, kept conjuring up the blank face's image in the darkness. You adjusted your sleeping position over and over, praying to whatever god that would listen to finally grant you rest... to no avail. You remained awake and restless, and when you finally had enough of your brain's shenanigans, you turned on the lights. You hastily tossed on a pair of sleep shorts, and with a sort of fright mixed with vigor, opened the door to the hallway of your shared dorm.

You could still see a faint yellow light underneath the door across from you, and thanking nobody in particular that he was still awake and that you didn't have to wake him, you knocked three times on his door.

Frantic shuffling from inside the room ensued, and you could hear a couple books falling to the floor before your roommate opened the door.

"Why aren't you asleep yet?" he asked with obvious concern in his voice. His pale blue tank top stretched a little as he put his hands on his hips. "You scared me."

"I was about to go to bed, and then, when I was changing, I saw a white face in the window, and I tried to ignore it and go to sleep, but then I couldn't because I felt like it was still watching me, and..." you trailed off, and tilted your head downwards. "I'm sorry for ranting, Gepard."

"Oh, no, don't worry about it," he smiled gently, eyes half-lidded from a similar lack of sleep. "I think it's just your head making stuff up. If that doesn't reassure you enough to make you fall asleep, well, I don't really know what to say. Sorry."

You looked up at him, meeting his deep blue eyes. "Can I sleep with you tonight, then?"

A pause ensued as Gepard processed what you just said.

"...what?" he squeaked. His cheeks turned a bright red as he gaped at you.

"Wait! No! That's not what I meant, I promise!" you corrected, also turning red. "I meant sleep in the same room. You know, like a sleepover or something, but without the "staying up late" part, because we're already... up late... You know what? Nevermind. I'm sorry for interrupting whatever you were doing, and I'll just sleep on the couch downstairs. I'll bring some blankets and I should be just fine-"

"You can stay if you want to."

You looked over at Gepard (who was still as red as a cherry, and avoiding eye contact), wide-eyed as you took in what he said. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah, the couch isn't that comfortable. You'll probably regret sleeping at all if you doze off there, and I don't mind you staying in my room anyways," he reassured. "Can you go grab blankets and stuff from your room? I'll clean up the place because I knocked over some books earlier, so..."

"Oh, um, sure," you blinked. "Thank you." You were sure that he would send you back after what you said.

You ran to your room and grabbed a pillow and blanket, but when you ransacked your drawers and closet for any sort of thick blankets or mat as possible padding between you and the floor, you came out empty-handed. You were nervous to ask Gepard if he had any usable padding material - he had done so much for you already, and you were sure that he was done putting up with your antics...

Rushing back to his room to not make him wait any longer, you stood by the doorframe as you watched him put the last of his toppled books into its place on the bookshelf.

From what you could see, his room was a tad minimalistic. Paintings of snowy sunsets and mountains decorated the white walls, and a multitude of potted plants (some of which were almost withered) were spread throughout his room, peeking from the top of his bookshelf, standing in front of his window, and some larger ones sitting on the floor. His bed was rather large, and it lay at the top right corner of the room, if you assumed that the door was in the middle of the bottom wall. His desk was across from his bed, to the right of the door, and his bookshelf, which stood in the middle of the left wall, housed an array of multicolored spines of books. His window, thankfully, was closed.

"You can come in, you know," he called as he turned his head to you.

"Thank you," you muttered, stepping inside his room. "Where should I put my stuff?"

He walked over to the center of the room, where you were standing awkwardly. He looked over the items in your hands.

"You don't have anything as padding? We have wooden floors."

"Yeah, I know," you said with a sigh. "I don't have anything."

"Neither do I... I mean, I can always sleep on the floor without padding, and-"

"You're not sleeping on the floor. It's your room."

"Yeah, but you can sleep on my bed and actually have a chance of falling asleep," he said.

"But you said that you couldn't fall asleep too," you remarked. "And you're putting up with my bullshit, so you get the bed."

"How about this? We split the bed in half with pillows, and we each get half. Does that work?"

"Oh- sure."

The two of you got to work. Luckily, you both had several pillows at hand, and Gepard's bed was big enough to perform the task, so you had it done in a couple minutes. You covered yourself with your blanket as he turned off the lights, and when you settled in among the darkness, you felt him shifting in his place.

"Goodnight," you heard him whisper.

"'Night," you replied, pulling your blanket further up to your neck.

But a little while later, your blanket stopped helping against the cold of his room. You didn't notice it before, but now, it was getting pretty chilly, and you couldn't help but lean closer to the row of pillows separating you two, subconsciously seeking warmth. Your thoughts were hazy, laced with sleep that was finally washing over you, but that little itch of cold was getting annoying. So you did the only thing that would have the smallest chance of waking him up and still receiving the warmth you needed - you came closer and closer to the pillow wall, until your hands finally felt his broad back through one of the thinner pillows.

To a very-much-still-awake Gepard's surprise, he felt your fingertips press against his back through a pillow. He thought that you were dreaming, that your brain was perceiving the pillows as a stuffed animal that you were "petting", but when your hands snaked around his torso, he realized that he was probably the stuffed animal (at least in your dreams). You were now hugging him.

If he was being honest with himself, he would probably describe his current feelings in one word: conflicting.

On one hand, he wanted to push your arms away. You were dreaming, that's it, and you needed something to hug. You needed to hug a pillow, not him - he wasn't at all like a pillow, he wasn't soft or light, he was, in his mind, a walking stone, hard and cold. He could give no comfort to you.

On another hand (the hand that Gepard deemed more selfish), he was rather comfortable like this. This felt right, for really no particular reason. A voice in the back of his head told him to do the same, to wrap his arms around you and protect you from anything and everything that ailed you. It whispered sweetness into his ear, vowing that you won't remember it when you wake up anyways, that this was his chance to face his feelings and act on them.

Sure, he's had a crush on you ever since you moved in together, but that doesn't excuse hugging you back when you were this close, right? But what would happen if he hugged you back, and you somehow remembered? What if you weren't sleeping at all and this was your way of flirting?

Y/N wasn't flirting, he thought. Definitely not with me. They wouldn't. They probably don't like me anyway.

Oh, but how he wanted to not overthink the situation and just do it already. This was his chance! What if you did like him back? What if you were flirting with him? A hug couldn't really ruin a 6-month-old friendship, could it?

He sighed as quietly as possible. He was going to do it. He was going to hug you, and he was going to roll the dice of Fate. Either you won't care, or you would lean into his arms, or you would push him away when you wake up. You were kind, merciful - would you really kick him out of the apartment because of a hug?

He stiffly turned around to face you, and got a full view of your serene, closed eyes. You were so pretty like this, he almost couldn't bear it.

Steeling himself, he screwed his eyes shut and reached his arms out to your form, wrapping them around your waist, supporting your back with his large hands. To his relief, you didn't show any signs of resistance - instead, you tilted your head closer to his, resting it against his collarbone as you let out a short, low hum.

Holy shit. Holy shit.

You were so warm, so soft, so fucking beautiful to him. He felt an overwhelming sense of immense joy and relief flood his system at your actions and couldn't help but brush away a stray lock of hair from your perfect, ethereal countenance, taking care to not disturb your sleep in any way. Small breaths escaped your oh-so-kissable lips like fleeting whispers of song, tickling his neck and shoulder lightly, and his heart beat faster and faster until it almost hurt from how close you were to him.

He couldn't believe that this was actually happening.

Your own heartbeat slowed as you fully fell asleep, content in his warm embrace, but Gepard's was still racing. He wanted to stay awake for as long as possible, to savor this moment of closeness for what could very well be the last time, but his eyes betrayed him - they were closing all on their own, and the last thing that he remembered before he fell asleep was the way that your chest rose and fell in time with your quiet sighs of sleep.

#gepard #honkai star rail #star rail #gepard landau #gepard fluff #gepard hsr #hsr #gepard star rail #gepard fanfic #fanfic #gepard x reader #gepard x y/n #gepard x you #hsr x you #hsr x reader #hsr x y/n #he's so cute i literally can't #gepard comfort #love him <33

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only-angel-28 · 8 months

Text

1999, part four - final part!

oh my gosh. final part and what a surprise, she's a long one again💀💀ive loved writing this silly little series so so much and i love all of you very very much🫶🏽🫶🏽🫶🏽please give me requests on what to write next bc my mind is completely blank rn, all i can think of is the cold war and bolsheviks from my history revison and i dont think they would make v good fics🤡🤡

lmk what you think of this part and your fav moments, enjoy!!

warnings: tiny angst, mostly fluff, swearing

1999, part one

1999, part two

1999, part three

༝ ˚ ｡⋆ 𓇼 ⋆｡ ˚ ༝༝ ˚ ｡⋆ 𓇼 ⋆｡ ˚ ༝༝ ˚ ｡⋆ 𓇼 ⋆｡ ˚ ༝༝ ˚ ｡⋆ 𓇼 ⋆｡ ˚ ༝

conrad’s pov

Since Y/n is unable to hold a phone herself, I'm tasked with a lot, but I didn't fully realize the worry of her family until she had me working through each task with her.

No wonder she’s overwhelmed. The number of texts from Laurel, Mom, Belly, Jere and Steven she has to sift through in a given hour would drive anyone insane.

Or maybe I'm just going crazy by sitting this close to her. The smell of her coconut soap is permanently ingrained into my memory as she sits flush against me, pointing at different texts with her uninjured hand.

I can tell her nerves grow stronger as the Uber near the hospital.

Her knees bounce up and down as she dictates message after message I need to send, confusing me more and more with every word.

The work doesn't stop there. After we check in, a nurse hands us a clipboard filled with pages of information that need to be filled out. Y/n stares at it like it might catch on fire at any moment.

"Here." I pass it to her.

Her eyes shift toward the exit. "Will you help me please? I can't write like this." Her voice drops to a barely audible whisper.

"Okay. Tell me your answers and I'll write them down."

Her throat bobs as she scans the first line. It takes her far longer than necessary to read the first question.

"Do you mind reading the questions aloud for me? I'm too stressed to concentrate right now." Her overcompensating smile irritates me.

"Are you sure? Some of the questions are probably personal."

Don't be a dick. Just do what she says.

"I don't care.”

The rigid way she sits in her chair says the complete opposite.

She seems to be one minute away from breaking down, so I concede. I sigh as I grab the pen and get started on the first question. The paperwork doesn't take us as long as I anticipated, so Y/n and I sit together in silence. She stares at the exit longingly.

The way her eyes dart around the room as she gnaws on her bottom lip makes me feel merciful enough to save her from the anxiety eating her up inside.

“If it's any consolation, I hate hospitals too."

Her head swings toward the direction of my voice.

"Yeah?"

I nod. "Haven't been to one since…"

"I know." she says as she sees my chest heaves as I remember the millions of times we’ve been here before.

I keep my eyes focused on the soundless television playing in one corner.

Her good hand clasps onto mine and gives it a squeeze. I'm grateful she understands me enough not to ask any other questions. The idea of offering another raw part of myself feels like a betrayal of the years I've spent carefully developing a certain kind of persona.

"I hate them too." Her voice cracks.

"Why?"

She stares down at her swollen hand. “My dad…” She pauses, and I give her hand a reassuring squeeze like she gave me. "Let's just say mom ended up in the ER a couple of times for being clumsy."

I take a deep breath to stave off the anger bubbling beneath the surface. "And did you have issues with being clumsy?" If she says yes, I swear to God two men will end up floating in the Chicago River tonight.

She shakes her head rather aggressively. "No. No." My rapid heart rate can be heard through my ears. "If you were, you can tell me." While I can't promise I won't do anything about it, I can promise to make him hurt. A lot. With sulfuric acid or something, those pre-med studies are starting to come in handy now.

The overwhelming sense of protectiveness hits me hard, and I don't shy away from it. There is nothing I hate more than men who use their fists against innocent women and children.

"It never got to that point. Suze made sure of it." she says with a small smile.

"How?"

"She caught onto the signs and interfered before things got bad. Used her savings from my grandpa's life insurance policy to help Mom get a divorce and start a new life." A tear slips down her face, and I can't stand the sight of it.

I brush it away with the pad of my thumb, but the damp trail still lingers. A driving force inside of me wants to erase the sad look on her face. "Did her plan also happen to include a jug of sulfuric acid?"

She forces out a laugh. "I think concrete shoes were more in style back then."

I fake shudder. "Remind me to never make mom angry again."

"Forget her, you'd have to deal with me." She holds up her injured hand like a war trophy.

"I'm absolutely terrified."

"Miss Y/n?" a nurse calls out.

Y/n doesn't move at the sound of her name.

"That's you." I place my hand on her thigh and give it a squeeze.

She sucks in a deep breath as she stares down at my hand.

Her chair nearly tumbles behind her as she bolts out of the seat, throwing her one good hand up in the air. "I'm here!"

The nurse leads us through the emergency room bay.

Individual beds line the wall, each area divided by a paper curtain.

The empty bed meant for Y/n is unacceptable. Between the person retching behind one partition and the individual on the other side hacking up their lung, I refuse to let her be seen here.

"I'd like my…my friend, to be taken care of in a private suite," I speak up. I know I sound snotty right now but honestly, I’ll be damned if I let her already horrible hospital experience get any worse.

The nurse grimaces as her gaze licks across my body. "This is a hospital. Not the Ritz. Take a seat and wait for the doctor like everyone else."

Y/n hops on the bed without any complaint, and I'm tempted to grab her and go elsewhere. The nurse doesn't seem the least bit bothered by all the noise happening around us as she checks Y/n’s vitals and asks some routine questions.

Y/n answers each one while chewing her bottom lip raw. This atmosphere couldn't put anyone at ease, least of all her.

The nurse hangs the clipboard at the foot of the bed, and I decide to try again.

"I'll pay whatever it takes to have her seen somewhere quieter. Money is no object."

The nurse only replies by shutting the paper curtain in my face.

Y/n laughs while I stare at the curtain, dumbfounded to be treated like this.

"You find this funny?"

She nods, her eyes alight for the first time all night. "Did you see her face when you said money is no object? I think if she didn't put the clipboard away, she would have slapped your face with it."

"It's not my fault she isn't accustomed to how things are done in the real world."

"Wake up baby. You're living in the real world." She waves around our room.

"It's terrifying." I say, looking away so she couldn’t see the blush that appeared on my face at the nickname.

"Come here. I'II make it better." Y/n pats the bed.

Doubtful, but I'm a glutton for giving her what she wants lately. Paper crinkles as I sit next to her. I take up most of the bed, giving her little room to get away from me. My thigh brushes against hers. She tries to scoot away, but there isn't enough space.

“Isn’t this cozy?" she quips.

I give her a small smile before she asks, “Hey! Let me see your tattoo.”

God I’d forgotten all about them. I move the collar of my shirt to show the two small ivy leaves we’d gotten. She gasps and gently touches my skin, “Oh my gosh it’s so pretty Connie.” she stares at it for a moment before I ask to see hers.

She lifts up her shirt on the side, exposing her ribcage and the two matching leaves.

“I can’t believe you agreed to get a Taylor Swift referenced tattoo with me Con.” she says as I admire the tattoo for a bit.

I smile until saying, “Hey I might be quiet and mopey but at least I have good taste in music.”

She softly smiles at me before eyeing the IV bag with horror before checking out the exit.

"What’s wrong?”

She leans closer to me and whispers, "Is now a bad time to admit I pass out whenever someone tries to stick a needle in me?"

My lips lift at the corners. I don't know why I find the idea hilarious, given her ability to watch eight consecutive hours of true crime documentaries without so much as flinching.

"You're afraid of needles?"

She sputters. "No. I'm not afraid. It just happens to be a bodily reaction I can't control."

“That's good then because the nurse needs to set you up with that IV when she comes back."

“No! Don't tell me that! I thought she was one of the good ones.”

I nod, pressing my lips together to prevent myself from laughing.

"She lied to me!" She bolts from the seat and would have tripped over her own heels if I didn't reach out and catch her.

*Careful." I place her back on the bed and decide to stand guard in case she gets any ideas to flee the scene.

Her eyes fit from me to the gap between two curtains, as if she is thinking how she can get past me.

"I'm joking.”

She scans my face for the truth before she slaps my shoulder with her good hand. "Asshole! I believed you!"

Laughter explodes out of me like a bomb, stunning her.

“Did you just laugh?”

"No."

“Yes." Someone calls out from the other side of the curtain.

“Now, do you mind shutting up? Some of us are trying to get some sleep over here after having our stomach pumped."

Fuck this place and the people in here. "We're leaving."

"Not so fast. You can't leave before I check you out." The doctor strolls in and points at the bed with his clipboard.

Y/n remains tight-lipped as the doctor checks her chart. He asks her some questions about how she got hurt, all while staring me up and down like I'm the person she was trying to injure. She is taken away for a few scans, and my breathing doesn't return to normal until the nurse brings her back.

That should be my first sign that things are getting out of hand on my end. I'm inching closer to an emotional minefield without any kind of map, only one wrong step away from exploding.

The doctor checks the scans. "It looks like you have a boxer's fracture."

Her face brightens. "That sounds badass."

I glare at her. "Calm down, Muhammad Ali. I wouldn't count today as a victory by any means."

The doctor's eyes lighten. "Next time, avoid any initial contact on the fourth and fifth knuckles."

"Please don't encourage her."

The doctor shakes his head with a laugh before giving Y/n a detailed set of instructions regarding the healing time. I'm skeptical about the whole visit and, given the setting, doubtful about the level of care. I'll be damned if Y/n sustains permanent injuries because of Dean. My chest tightens at the idea.

“Great Thanks, Doc!" She hops off the bed, but I hold my arm out, stopping her

"I’d like a second opinion." The command bursts out of me without any rhyme or reason. Deep down, I know a boxer's fracture isn't the worst thing that could have happened. But things aren't right in my head where Y/n is concerned. At least not anymore.

Both of the doctor's eyebrows arch. "For a small fracture?"

"Don't mind him. He tends to be a bit overbearing." She shoots me a look as if I'm the crazy one out of the two of us.

"Okay..." the doctor says.

Maybe I am losing it because why else would I care?

You hate it when she cries.

You wouldn't mind murdering someone who hurt her.

You took her to the hospital even though you despise them with every fibre of your being.

The signs all point to one thing: our situation is quickly crumbling, and I'm the only one to blame.

Y/n interrupts my thoughts. "I'll be sure to wear the brace for a few weeks and avoid any kind of activities that could aggravate the injury."

"Perfect. And don't forget to schedule a follow-up visit with your physician. "The doctor gives me one last look before handing Y/n the discharge paperwork. "Nice meeting you."

"Will you help me with this?" She holds out the clipboard with her left hand as the doctor leaves.

I grab it from her and fill it out.

She checks the time on her phone. "Well, at least that didn't take as long as I thought it would. I'm sure you're dying to get back home."

That's the scary thing. I didn't think about anything or anyone once during our entire time here because making sure she was taken care of was my only concern. I've spent the past seventeen years of my life thinking solely about my future, and all it took was one girl to make me completely forget about my responsibilities for a few hours.

As if that doesn't scare me enough, it only takes one glance at her makeshift brace to make my blood burn hot under my skin. I know exactly why her injury angers me more than anything else.

It's the same reason I feel the urge to push Jere away from her whenever he gets too close or the way I unexplainably need to see her whenever she is out of my sight for longer than a few hours.

You’re in love with her.

Fuck.

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y/n’s pov

We’re in an Uber on the way home, sitting in comfortable silence until Conrad breaks it.

“Why’d you get with Dean anyway?” My stomach doubles over.

Comfortable silence is so overrated.

I sigh. I’ve been dreading this question for ages now.

“I don’t know.” I answer vaguely.

Conrad gives me a puzzled look, “What do you mean you don't know? You must’ve had a reason.”

His restlessness gets me more agitated.

“I don’t know Conrad. I don’t know why I got with him, I don’t know why I was waiting on you for so long either.” I look out the window as the car stops in front of the house.

“What? What do you mean?” he says as I get out the car and speed up to the front door, taking the keys out of my pocket and refusing to carry on with this conversation anymore.

Conrad keeps yelling after me as he follows me upstairs to my room, both of us trying to ignore everyone else who joined Conrad and are trying to ask their own questions.

I slam my door shut and collapse on my bed hearing Conrad trying to calm everyone down and telling them everything that's happened until he asks them all to give me some space for now.

I cry in the silence as I hear everyone leaving from outside the door until it opens.

“Hey.”

Steven. Thank God.

“Steve…” I say sniffling.

He looks at me with a sad smile before sitting on the bed with me and taking me in his arms.

“Con told us everything,” he says after a few minutes of holding me, “did you really get a boxer's fracture?”

I laugh in tears before showing him my hand and saying, “You should see the other guy.”

Steven and I laugh together before going back to the silence as he hugs me.

“He really cares about you, you know.”

“No he doesn’t. He hates me. I yelled at him and now I’m crying here on my bed like an idiot.”

“Did he say anything to you?” Steven looks down at me.

I shake my head before saying, “He asked why I got with Dean.”

“Oh. That’s not too bad.”

“No it’s not.”

“Then why are you so upset?”

“Because I’ve been waiting for Conrad for so long and I’m just sick and tired of always being there to help him get over his breakups when he’d be so much better off with me. I know I sound selfish and none of my reasons are justified but I just thought that after everything we’ve been through together, he’d maybe like me just a little bit.”

Steven hugs me again and softly says, “He does.”

After that almost everyone but Conrad came in to check up on me and make sure I was okay, making me feel even more guilty about being all emotional like this. It’s not until Susannah’s holding me and whispering sweet nothings that my eyes start to feel heavy.

I think I fell asleep after that, I don’t remember much except waking up to the sun shining its very unwelcome face in my eyes.

I step out of my room after freshening up and I’m about to make my way to the kitchen for food until I’m stopped by something in the hallway.

Or should I say someone.

“Conrad,” I bend down and stroke his hair out of his face, “Conrad wake up.” I say gently.

He stirs for a minute before sitting up and taking my hands in his.

“Have you been out here all night?” I ask.

“Yes.” he says in a raspy voice.

God that voice would make my knees give out if I wasn’t already on the floor with him.

“Why?”

“I need to talk to you.”

I sigh before he interrupts me, “Listen, I heard everything you said to Steven last night and I know I shouldn’t have and I was eavesdropping but I’m sorry it was by accident. And I know I don’t deserve any more of your time…I’ve already wasted a lot of it but just hear me out for ten minutes.”

“No.” I try to get out of his grasp.

“Stop fighting and give me ten minutes.”

“No way.”

“Nine then.”

“Five.”

“Eight and a half.”

“Six.”

“Seven.”

I pause, knowing that he won’t let me go anywhere before I hear him out.

“You don’t deserve seven seconds, let alone seven minutes of my time.”

“How about seven words then?”

I laugh. “I’d like to see you try.”

“I am falling in love with you.”

I blink up at him. Either I am still sleeping or I must have not heard him correctly because there is no way Conrad Fisher just admitted that he is falling in love with me.

Absolutely no fucking way.

Right?

I squeeze my eyes shut as if that can erase the words from my memory.

"You're joking.

"I'm not."

"This is just another part of your game." I try to push him away, but he doesn't budge.

"It stopped being a game for me a long time ago."

"You're lying."

His brows pull together. "Ask me why I hate when people touch my bookshelf."

"Are you serious right now? What does that have to do with any of this?" I think back to his bookshelf he won’t let any of the others go near but loves to let me organise and re-organise each year.

"Because I did it for you."

"I'm sorry, what?"

"I read somewhere online that organising objects like books and things is good for people with anxiety, because then they can feel in control of something and know exactly what to expect especially if things are the same as they've predicted all the time. You love reading too, so I changed it. Bought all the books you like to read so that you’d stay and read with me more often. I forced everyone else out of my room and especially away from that bookshelf. All because I wanted to help you."

Emotions clog my throat, preventing my ability to reply.

What can I possibly say that could compare to that?

Conrad doesn't give me an option as he continues. "Want to know why I kept this plant you got me?" he says pointing to the small green cactus with “Don’t be a prick” written on the pot that we could see looking into his room from the hallway.

I nod.

"Because it was the first time someone got me a present that made me laugh."

If hearts could melt into puddles, mine would be liquified right about now.

I take a deep breath.

Remember what he did.

“Con that doesn't change anything you still ignored me for a whole year. Every time I tried to call you or text you, you’d just leave me on read or decline, and now you’re telling me you love me? Who does that?"

"Someone who doesn't understand the first thing about loving someone, but is willing to try if you give me a chance."

"You want me to give you a chance after everything? Do you think I'm stupid?"

He winces, and a bit of my anger fades away at his vulnerability.

"Intelligence has nothing to do with this."

"Easy for you to say when you're not the one who feels like a fool."

"Really? Because based on your reaction today, I'm feeling pretty damn foolish for ever admitting that I'm falling in love with you." He gets up off the floor, leaving me feeling chilled to the bone.

"Con..." I reach out, but he takes a step back.

My eyes sting from his rejection. It hurts.

“I’m not asking you to love me back. I don't expect that and I'm not sure if I ever will because I'm the furthest thing for lovable. I'm selfish, and rude, and don't know the first thing about being in a proper relationship with someone. But that doesn't mean I’m not willing to try for you if you let me."

How am I supposed to be angry at him when he thinks he is unlovable?

A pain rips through my chest at the thought of him talking about himself this way.

I get up off the floor and walk straight into his chest. His arms quickly wrap themselves around my waist, holding me even tighter.

"Just because you make selfish choices doesn't mean you're a selfish person. At least not completely."

This boy had been there for Belly, Steven, me and Jere for years without any kind of payback, especially when Susannah was going through her cancer and despite feeling an immense amount of pain himself, he shoved all his emotions aside so that he could be there for us. For me. If that isn't a selfless sacrifice, I don't know what is.

"Your logic is half-baked at best."

"So is yours, seeing as you called yourself unlovable."

His body tenses. "I'm stating facts."

"I don't know what bullshit your father told you over the years, but it's not true. Your brother loves you."

"He’s obligated to."

"No one is obligated to love someone else. Blood or not."

He takes a deep breath. "You're right."

I smile up at him. "I could get used to hearing those words."

He reaches up and cups my cheek. "Give me a chance and I'll tell you them every single day."

I sigh and look away. "I don't know.”

"Tell me what's stopping you."

"You don't do relationships."

“Good thing our feelings lead us here rather than our minds, and mine are willing to try then."

I avoid his penetrating gaze. "What if my feelings are telling me to run?”

“It's cute you think you can outrun me, but I'll give you a head start just to make things interesting." he smiles down at me.

"Do you always have an answer for everything?"

"Not for the one that matters most." The way he looks at me stirs up something deep inside of me.

Longing. I want to give him a chance, regardless of the potential fallout.

You might get hurt.

I might, but I might miss out on something special because I’m too afraid of the what ifs. I'm done being that person. Even if it means getting hurt, I'd rather try and fail than never try at all.

I stand on the tips of my toes and press my lips against his.

He holds me tight against his chest, as if he is afraid of letting me go.

I pull away, only to clasp onto his chin. "This could be a disaster, but I'm willing to try."

He shuts me up by pushing his lips against mine, sealing our new deal. The way he kisses me is different than any time before. He cups my face with the palms of his hands as his lips mold against mine, teasing me until I feel dizzy. His thumb brushes across my cheek back and forth, and heat rushes down my spine straight to my belly. He makes me feel cherished. Protected.

Loved in a way that makes me never want to come back down to reality.

I could spend forever being kissed like this and still feel like it isn't enough. While Conrad might not be the best with words, his kiss says it all.

He is falling in love with me. And I’m falling in love with him. No translation necessary.

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ahh i cant believe its finished omg😔💔...

anyways, onto the next one😍🙏

again please lmk what you think of this and please give me requests on what to do next!!

#conrad fisher #conrad fisher x reader #conrad fisher x y/n #fanfic #fics #tsitp #belly conklin #jeremiah fisher #steven conklin #the summer i turned pretty #1999 #conrad x reader fluff #conrad x y/n angst #conrad x y/n fluff #conrad x reader #conrad x y/n

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celerydays · 9 months

Note

could you walk us through what notebooks & journals & pens /etc you use - they look so good!

I would be SO happy to, you have no idea!!

Alright, let's fucking GOOOO~

Starting off with my current "workhorse" pens - I have like *checks notes* 36 fountain pens and a bit too many inked up atm, but these are just the ones I'm currently reaching for or have inked up more often than not:

TWSBI Go (F): Kinda ugly! But also kinda cute! It's cheap and works great (I friggin love TWSBI pens tbh) and it has a little hole on the cap where you can attach a lanyard or charms, like I did! Makes it cuter imo and it's kind of my emotional support pen these days.

Opus88 Pocket (EF): This 2022 edition has a little Moon tarot design on the cap so it's pretty much the pen I use exclusively for my witchy/tarot practice journals! A lil bummed the cap doesn't post, especially since its a shorter pocket-sized pen, but not a deal breaker and I still love it.

Pilot Custom 823 (F): My grail pen that I've literally coveted for years and just recently acquired at the DC Pen Show this weekend! It's only been a day but I think it could potentially become my favorite pen. Ever.

Pilot Prera (CM): This is my third Prera lol. I just think they're great and really underrated pens! Also a recent acquisition from the DC Pen Show and this cursive M nib is suuuuper fun to write with.

Pilot Vanishing Point (EF): My favorite pen for planning! Super fine-tipped for writing task lists and schedules and love that it's so convenient/quick-draw with the click mechanism.

(I'm totally a Pilot pen ho, can you tell? asdjflaglsg)

Journals/Planners/Notebooks under cut–

Sterling Ink B6 Common Planner: For a good chunk of this year, I was in this planner because I honestly love the size and all the layouts. Super practical and flexible as a system. 10/10 would go back. I've used it to plan, as a reading journal, as a tarot log...

But I get the itch to move around so it's been sitting a little unused since like June, oop.

Leuchtturm A6: I started craving something tiny and minimal so I've been bullet journaling in this pocket notebook for the last month or two and I'm really enjoying it!

Standard-sized Tomoe River Paper notebook: This is pretty consistent in that I don't change up the system itself, but I'm in and out of it for memory keeping/scrapbook journaling! It's almost always a Tomoe River paper notebook of SOME kind that I usually buy in A5 size to go to FedEx and get it cut down to standard. Though I'm thinking of getting a blank Midori MD A5 to have cut down next time - I've been liking the freedom of blank pages for journaling instead of anything lined or gridded.

I really need to catch up with it tbh, but I love sitting in an explosion of printed photos, stickers, and washi and going ham with the pages.

(I do have a flip through of my January-March 2022 pages on YouTube)

Midori MD Cotton B6 Slim: I also have this sketchbook that sorta turned into a visual sketch diary of sorts. I fell off a while ago but want to get back into it because it's super fun to work in and to look back on!

Wide-sized Cosmo Air Light notebook & A5 Filofax Malden: These are my tarot/witchy journals. Grimoires I guess? One is for journaling and all my messier notes while the other is more for reference and ease of organization.

A5 Leuchtturm: I didn't know if I should include this guy, but I've been writing it in a lot recently so I guess I will lol. This is like truuuly a miscellaneous™ notebook.

I got this A5 notebook back in 2017 to use as my very first bullet journal, then found out that this size is personally waaaay too big for me to use as a bullet journal so I hopped off of it pretty quick. It now sits on my desk because since it's mostly blank I'll just pick it up to use it to write literally A N Y T H I N G.

Most recently, I wrote like 5 pages in one night on notes for a fanfiction piece I was working on (I'm not a writer, this fic is never gonna see the light of day by anyone but me lololol. Hyperfixation is so wild; I've put 80k+ words within just 10 days into it so far and it's been hella therapeutic.)

That's all, I think!?

It's funny because I actually have a NEW notebook arriving tomorrow that I'm going to try out as a bujo/commonplace/omni journal of sorts?? I might write an update post after I've set that up and see how I like it <3

#journal #journaling #bullet journal #memory keeping #notebooks #fountain pen #grimoire #sketchbook #commonplace book #tarot journal #cel journals #anon #ask #celerydays

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nofomogirl · 3 months

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What we know and don't know after Good Omens S2

Honestly, it's mostly what we don't know.

This was originally meant to be an intro to Before the Beginning (part 1.5.) - a post in my series of posts discussing what we learn from the opening scene of S2 - but I've decided to make it its own thing after all.

I just enjoy reminding myself and others what we know for sure and what is just a theory or a headcanon. So here I go.

#1 The Fall

I've already written about the Fall shortly after S2 aired: Implications of Metatron's offer

My points still stand, except now that I think about it I might have put too much stock in Metatron's words. I think they prove less than I was willing to believe back then, as it's not difficult to imagine they might have all been a bluff.

In short: we don't know what the Fall is and how it actually works.

All that we know is that it happened once, and in the process, part of the angels were transformed and became demons.

The rest is just a long list of questions.

#2 Crowley's Fall

We're not much wiser when it comes to the circumstances of one specific Anthony J. Crowley's Fall.

Let's look at the very few facts we have:

In S1 Crowley claims that "he didn't really fall, he just sauntered vaguely downwards", "he only ever asked questions [and] it was all it took to be a demon", and "he didn't mean to fall, he just hung around the wrong people".

Neil Gaiman suggested more than once that Crowley isn't the most reliable narrator when it comes to his own Fall, and while he's not as bad as Heaven believes, he's also not as good as he thinks.

In Job's minisode, when Aziraphale is on the brink of questioning God's sense of justice ("Yes. But..."), Crowley tells him that was how it started for him too.

We learned from Furfur that Crowley actively took part in the dubious battle on the plains of Heaven just before the Fall.

In the finale, Metatron isn't the slightest bit surprised Crowley didn't take his offer and comments he "always did want to go his own way. Always asking damn fool questions too."

What does it all tell us? Nothing specific, except that perhaps we were a bit too quick to take Crowley's word that he hasn't done anything that would warrant any kind of punishment.

Questioning God's way of doing things was just how it STARTED for him. Asking damn fool questions was something he did TOO.

In short - we have no idea what really happened.

#3 Memory erasure

It's one of those popular headcanons that have been around at least since S1 and got canonically confirmed in S2.

We now know it's something that exists.

And that's where our knowledge ends.

Everything we really saw in the show was Gabriel getting sentenced to having his memories of being Gabriel removed. Then he very quickly moved his whole self to the fly to save it and we don't actually get to see what the result would be if Heaven did it. Would he be the same returned-to-factory-settings goofball or would he be given some memories to fill the blank spaces?

Is it actually possible to plant false memories in someone's head or can you only delete them?

Are memories really erased or just made inaccessible? Gabriel could still force himself to access some of his old memories. Was it because that's how it works and everybody could do it theoretically or was it because the memory-erasing procedure wasn't performed properly in his case?

We know it can be done remotely, but what is the range?

How precise and selective can it be? Gabriel was meant to forget everything. Perhaps that's the only way and you cannot pick and choose what one remembers or not.

We do not know.

#4 Aziraphale and Crowley's relationship

In S2 we have learned that they knew each other before the Fall. But all we saw was one meeting that appeared to be the first one to boot, judging by the fact that Aziraphale introduced himself.

We don't really know if they met again after that, how well they got to know each other, and how close they became.

It's not impossible, that when Aziraphale insists he knew the angel Crowley was, he's not even right about that...

#5 Aziraphale's and Crowley's memories

Last but not least, whatever Aziraphale and Crowley knew initially and whatever events they were part of or witnessed, we have no way of knowing what memories they've kept AND if they're even aware one or both of them might be missing something.

There may be important things that only one of them remembers but since I doubt they've ever compared notes, he operates under the wrong assumption that the other is aware of it too.

Anything is possible, really.

I've seen many convincing theories regarding all of the above and plenty of delightful headcanons. I'm just listing it to keep in mind all the questions remain open.

#good omens #good omens 2 #good omens meta #aziraphale #crowley #ineffable husbands

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italianpersonwithashippersheart · 3 months

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DFF Questions And Theories Recap

I wanted to do a post where I could put down all the major questions that are still unanwered from the show and give all my thoughts and theories on each.

What Happened to Non?

Earlier I saw this post by @slayerkitty that pretty much outlined my own thoughts on this.

I have been leaning into the idea that the boys pranked and drugged him for a while now. And episode 7 just confirmed it.

What I am the most unsure off, is what happened after. Because the fact that some of these boys seem to be sure he is dead while others aren't makes me think that something happened after the prank

Now is Non alive? This one I am not sure off, if he is I am leaning thowards maybe him being in a coma or catatonic or in some kind of hospitalized situation, maybe under a fake name, thanks to Phi's dad.

Because the Mafia (Tee's Uncle) want him dead, so a fake name for both him and his brother/family might be to keep them safe.

I am not positive he is the third killer (if there even is one) if he is alive.

Most of my brain is on camp Non is dead. For the simple reason that Tan especially seem to be focused on knowing what happened to Non, and/or getting a confession. And if he can talk to Non there would just be no used for that. There would be no need to wait that long. I don't know just a feeling.

Who Are The Killers and How Many there are? And Is Tan Non's older brother?

I will start with the obvious, Phi has to be one of the killers, we are all on board with that.

While my previous theory was that Tan was not the brother and the brother was an unknown player I think I have changed my mind.

I am now 90% sure Tan is New, Non's older brother. Am I still a little bit miffed they probably casted an actor who is the same age as Barcode to play his older brother, yeah, but I figured if the actor pulls it off I can overlook the real life age, it's not like we have not ignored that before in BL land.

About the number I waffle back and fort. I am currently leaning more with there are only two killers. But I can't ever fully commit to it. If you discount the quick appereances I think I have a handle on who did what and when, mostly. And they could have definately pulled it off just Phi and Tan.

Again I do still think the way the guy that is supposed to come pick them up was introduce feel like a set up for a third killer. But it could just be about making sure they are trapped there. I don't know.

I think that Tan might be a bit of blank character on porpouse because if he is the brother, which I am becoming more and more sure with each episode, the bulk of his characterization will be post reveal.

It's definately a delicate balance to struck, because if you make the character too distinct then the reveal feels like it's coming out of nowhere. I really like the actor's microexpression and the way the camera stays on his face sometimes, I think it's very subtle and the actor does a very good job with them.

Who realesed the video?

This section is a bit shorter, I mostly just want to highlight the two post I have seen pointing out some stuff about the video

This one by @firstmix

and This one by @raelle-writing

I wanted to add that maybe Tee and/or Top hide themselves in the office because they thought they could film the teacher giving Non money, and then caught something else instead.

I also think don't think (EDIT: I made a mistake in the og post) it's Jin that realesed the video.

Humans or Suprenatural

I am firmly on camp there is no supernatural, there is no cult. It's all staged.

I think the killers might be using drugs on the boys (see this post by @lukaherehelp for an excelled post on that)

And maybe some sort of induced hynosis/trance on Top, but it also just might be that the drugs and the fear are making him more inclined to help the masked killer, especially if he already thinks it's a ghost.

Also I don't currently have a specific post or remember the specific person sorry my memory is trash, but someone pointed out that sounds, the voices they hear and stuff, might also be used to fuck with people, if you are the person with that theory and see this tell me I will edit this. EDIT: @slayerkitty pointed out it was @shannankle who had this theory, thank you.

I think the dissapearing quick motionless apparitions might be some sort of projection. Specifically something tech related. I am thinking about Tan weirdly awakard talk with White about how he totally doesn't know anything about technology (that was a lie if I ever heard one)

And finally last but certanly not least: What are the killers realtionship/attitude thowards White and What is White role in the story?

White is the wild card, he wasn't supposed to be there. We have at least two conflicting statement on whose idea him coming with them was. Tee initially says, we agreed you would be good if you came and then says actually you didn't want to come and I instited later.

I don't think he is one of the killers there are way too many shots of him alone that make no sense if he is in on it.

Phi seems to be occasionally protective over him. In the scene where they are seeing Tee and White make out he is laughing with everyone but then after Tee says enough my little one will be sad (something of that effect) he turns to see White being embarred and puts a stop to it. He also always seem to want to keep White at the house where he could be safer.

Then of course there is the little awkward moment with the hands when Phi is telling him what to do for the shoot. It was such a odd moment to include, that it makes me believe there is something behind it we are not seeing.

Tan instead seems to be gently stearing him in a specific direction, the direction where he asks questions and wants the truth. Someone left the page of newspaper about Tee's uncle before leaving Fluke and White alone in the house, probably hoping that White would find it. I don't want to used the world manipulation yet, but it does feel a little like he is using him.

White has to be one of the final standing boys. I am not sure if he is going to be the only one. If Jin didn't realsed the video then Jin might also make it. And of course it depends about the killers. Making the killers so symphatethic the audience root for them is always a gamble if you want to end your series with both of them dead.

Is White meant to have some parallels with Non? Tee obviously is trying to change himself and be better for White, although he struggles between care and selfinesh still. White might also come from a poor background, the boys might have been more nice to him because they felt guilty about what happened to Non. There is also that moment with the rash that I think will have a bigger meaning eventually.

And has @shannankle has pointed out in their post on colors. He and Phi have some color connections with the orange.

I think that is it. Obviously the last question is about the ending, but I don't really have any theories I am ready to share for that yet. As you can see I am sure of very little.

#txt #dead friend forever #dead friend forever meta #dff meta

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yanderes-galore · 6 months

Note

Hello, May I request a Cod Cold War ask? Specifically for Weaver x reader who’s part of the zombies strike team? I can imagine that they’re quick to figure out things (as you need to be for the Easter eggs) yet tough as they need to be? If not, I guess can I request Bell x reader (Bell may be hard to write for since they’re a player created character but I figured you do something cool with it!)

-MsPlacedHero

Ps, Chase loved the cookie I gave to him saying it was from you!

I'll try Bell as I'm a bit more familiar with them! Happy he liked the cookie even if it was a long time ago. Hope you enjoy :) Bell is referred to as They/Them as you did not specify what kind of Bell you wanted.

This is mostly rambling and may be short but it was me giving my view on the character and their potential. I wanted to explore it a bit so there's no real plot.

Yandere! Bell Concept/Overview

Pairing: Romantic/Platonic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Mentioned self-aware behavior but not focused, General Bell thoughts, Stalking, Brainwashing, General yandere behavior, Character death, Dubious companionship.

Bell can be both interesting yet difficult to write so I will try to keep this rather general.

Bell could be difficult since their character is primarily meant for the player to insert themselves into.

They're meant to be so the player can interact with the story and feel like a part of it.

This would be difficult to try and convey, however, it opens many different possibilities.

Bell would be like a customizable yandere.

In a story you can pick and choose how you'd want Bell to be.

Bell would work even better in a "Self-Aware" story since they'd act as a host for the player and are extremely player dependent.

Your little puppet.

A reflection of you.

Overall Bell could really have any sort of yandere personality traits due to being a blank canvas.

You could see Bell as soft or someone who follows their darling like a puppy.

Maybe you could see them as a worship yandere.

Maybe you could see them as cruel, perhaps even prior to the brainwashing?

As a result, the darling is just as customizable.

You could be a part of the CIA or know Bell prior to the brainwashing.

There's a lot of potential.

The things is, how to write Bell is you'd need to be specific.

That's why I'm mostly just looking over the character.

Honestly my favorite ideas may be the Self-Aware one and Bell with a fellow CIA agent.

The Self-Aware one is self explanatory, I mentioned it before.

But the CIA agent one could also be fun to explore.

You know you shouldn't get attached or involve yourself with Bell.

They've been brainwashed with MK-ULTRA to find out info on Perseus.

That's all, afterwards they may just be tossed away.

For now they just need to be alive until the mission is finished and over.

However, Bell appears to have some sort of adoration for you one way or another.

Maybe somewhere in their memories they seem to recall you being important to them.

It's most likely a fabricated memory to coax more information out of them, but it works.

How Bell deals with such information could vary.

They may follow you around, they may be overly protective/clingy, they could be possessive, they could be any number of things.

They don't understand why you never like being around them.

Truthfully you either don't care or don't want to be attached.

Either way, Bell would want to treat you more than a "comrade".

They either see you as a close friend they "fought alongside" or maybe even a lover.

They have no idea you and Adler just need them for information.

Bell may most likely be "gotten rid of" before they become too much of a problem for you due to their obsession.

If they are a softer and more docile yandere, it feels horrible to know Adler did them in.

If they are rougher and more intense, it may feel like a relief when they're gone.

Player created characters like Bell have potential to be interesting once you have traits decided.

Unfortunately as a result I can't really assign Bell any definitive yandere behavior for them.

They seem like a puppet, a husk, meant to follow orders due to all of the brainwashing.

Regardless... a blank slate character can still have endless potential if you have a plot to work with.

No two Bell stories would be the same, essentially.

Bell is a wild card when it comes to their darling.

Which can mean they're a dangerous yandere if you think about it.

#yandere call of duty #yandere call of duty cold war #yandere cod #yandere cod cold war #yandere cod bell

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redmyeyes · 7 months

Text

superstition

for @wincestwednesdays

On bad nights, Dean takes the car out. There's no memorial, no resting place, so.

He tried a picture once. After the crossroads but before the third breakdown. A therapist of a friend of Lisa's boss suggested it. Which means his level of fucked-up was enough to warrant four degrees of casual-aquaintance separation. My friend's co-worker's bf is a real mess. Lost his brother, poor guy. Any suggestions?

Pretty impressive, if he does say so himself.

So, the picture. You speak to a picture of, of the loved one, she phrased it. Tell them all the things you meant to tell them. You know.

Dean couldn't do it. Can't do it. The one picture he has of Sam is tucked safely away in a cigar box in the trunk, but he can't, still, bring himself to look at it, no matter how old and faded or unfamiliar or different from the way he looked when he—

When.

People think the legend of the crossroads is superstition. What they don't know is, they're right. And wrong at the same time. Started as superstition. Demons just got wind of it, and started taking advantage.

Sometimes you can make a superstition real, if enough people believe.

That's what he tells Sam in the dark, when he's driven so far out into nowhere on a moonless night that he can almost pretend the shadows to his right engulf a missing person. Like they're working a case. Like Sam will turn to him in the dark and say, Maybe it's just about finding the right demon to apply pressure, and he'll feel the heat of Sam's breath as the words come or he'll see Sam gesture with his ginormohands out of the corner of his eye.

Well. Those days when Dean could still pretend are long past, so he mostly just sits silent now. He's not delusional. But this is sacred. This ritual. This… communion. Sitting in the dark on the hood with a whiskey. Talking or not talking.

Most days, Dean thinks this is the only thing keeping him sane.

He takes two deep pulls of whiskey, and starts choking when one hits the wrong way. "I am not, shut up," he mutters around a cough.

So much effort to keep putting one foot in front of the other; he doesn't know how people do it. He needs a project, something all-consuming enough to take his mind off— take his mind out.

He's trying. He's trying to put in the same effort to taking care of Ben, to the work, to Lisa, to friendship. All of these half-measures to replace one person and it doesn't come close. Like filling in blanks with stick figure drawings of a copy of a copy of a picture.

"Not replacing, you know what I mean," he says to the air.

"I am trying though, I—" Another swig of whiskey, it always takes him a minute to warm up to it. "Today was a bad day, Sammy. Guess they're all bad days but—" Dean shakes his head. He's careful to stay on his side of the hood, to keep staring straight ahead, or up at the stars. They used to get like this sometimes, whiskey-loosened lips and the dark and the one person in the world who'll actually get what you're saying right there next to you…

"You remember that time in, uh— I dunno, Ohio I think. You woulda been about ten, eleven. Same age as Ben. Actually, you probably don't remember. Woulda been one of a thousand to you, but— I remember it. So clearly, man. First time I—" A gulp of whiskey. "You were out. Me and Dad were off on a quick recon and got back—quicker than you expected I guess—and you were gone. This was before Flagstaff, before things got real bad between you and him. You snuck into the movies or some shit, or maybe you were at the arcade, I don't know.

"I remember your face when you came in. You were—happy. Like, light. Like a kid. Like, you didn't even get what was about to go down. Didn't bother sneaking in 'cause you thought you'd done nothing wrong, and Dad was— " He huffs. "You don't need me to tell you how he was, 'cause he always was. But you started arguing like the stubborn ass you always were. Are. And— Sammy, I remember the way you looked at me. Like— pleading for help or backup or— no, not pleading. Like— betrayal. Like I betrayed you. I— I don't know why that stuck with me. That stupid moment from when you were ten, when we've had shit a million times more serious gone down since then."

Dean's silent for a moment, and when he starts speaking again he's forced to clear his throat.

"I kept thinking... if he would just obey. If he would just listen, just— shut up, sometimes. Just let Dad talk. As if that— was something of value. But you never could. Always had to have your say, always stood up to him, and I didn't back you up and I kept not backing you up with Dad, and maybe if I'd done better you wouldn'ta left for Stanford in the first place, even though, I dunno man, maybe we were always destined to end up here anyway, but—"

He cuts himself off and gets his breathing back under control. Another swallow of whiskey, craving the burn in his throat.

"I saw that same look on Ben's face today. From me. He was scared of me, looking at me like— just like you used to look at Dad. Except without your piss-ass stubbornness. " A moment passes before he continues, his voice strained. "It's not just me here, Sammy. I mean, you begged me to do this. To live this life, and I'm trying, I am, but— it's not just me, okay? Lisa and Ben, they— you know. I was so messed up when I knocked on their door I'm shocked she didn't call the cops. I came to them. Because you wanted me to and they took me in and now they're just there, suffering, because I can't get my shit together and—"

His gut wrenches. It's a long time before he can speak again, and he has to uncurl himself to do it.

He takes a breath in.

And out.

Sam used to do this when—

Sam used to do this.

"Okay, yeah. Maybe that's a cop-out. Maybe I just don't—"

He cuts himself off again and sighs, banging his head lightly against the windshield. He survived forty years in Hell, you'd think he could do Suburbia.

"It's different. Hell was survivable because I was there to keep you alive." Not strictly true. He tries again. "Hell was… I thought you were okay. I thought you were okay, and that made it worth something. And even when it wasn't, it was so intense that I— couldn't think. Couldn't. And that was a blessing."

I'm not strong enough for this, Sammy. Not without you.

He can't say those words aloud yet. To do that would be to admit— too much.

"I don't know how long I can keep doing this," he whispers instead.

Even that admission… it's enough. For now. It's enough to get him through the next however many days until things get so bad that he needs to come out here again. Sam's silence feels like acceptance, and Dean breathes it in.

He's not resigned. Not yet, anyway. He still hasn't given up hope that there's some way to get Sam out. But, he knows, the moment that last shred dies is the moment he goes with it.

Until then, he'll keep talking to the dark.

"Call it superstition," he says.

#just a lil thing for #wincest #wincest wednesday #and inspired by my s6 #spn rewatch #who knew that watching canon would actually make me want to write ._.#(she says sarcastically)#im really obsessed with this in-between time though #where dean tries to make it work bc he promised sam he would #'white-knuckling it' as lisa says #how much longer until he gives in and gives up #good thing s!s showed up when he did ig #redrites

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drooperz · 5 months

Text

Night out

I love this picture so much ><

Summary: After your friends abandon plans Ringo spots you and wants to spend the evening with you!

Ringo Starr x reader :P hurt/comfort but overall fluff

You often came down to the pub whenever your friends offered to meet up, it was a good place to chat and relax about things over a drink. Many memories of laughing and gossiping and getting a little too drunk some nights rushed to mind when you opened the front door. The place was a bit more busy than it usually was and you felt a little anxious when you didn't spot your friends on any table.

Hopefully they turn up soon.

You found an empty table and brushed the crumbs off the seat before settling.

The radio gently drifted over all the chatter of the room and the noise seemed to put you at ease, tender tunes soothing your worries.

As you sat waiting at a table you stared off into the distance, your mind went blank as you started to count the minutes...

5 minutes turned to 10 minutes and then 10 to 20...

As you waited, you noticed people coming and going out of the pub and the evening got darker.

You were sure your friends had forgotten about this meetup. No, surely not... Right?

You rested your head in your hands and sighed, thinking if you should just go home and wallow in the fact that you could have been forgotten or stay a little longer.

But, you decided to stay for a few more minutes, hoping they'll pop through the door and get to talking. Explaining how they'd been held back in traffic or some other explanation as to why they're so late.

Your mind went blank, again. A thick haze of thoughts and reasonings your friends could be late, retreating more and more inwards as you dwelled on them more.

"You alright luv?" A voice called.

You looked up at the figure in front of you, watching his slightly concerned face.

"Oh- uhh, yeah I'm fine." You gave a little smile to reasure the stranger. You rubbed your eye, feeling tired and let down.

"You sure? I've seen you waiting here for about a half hour..." he retorted, sounding sorry as his expression softened.

Your eyes felt heavy and sore, you sighed, "I uhh, I just thought I was gonna meet up with friends but..." you looked up at him and raised your hands up on either side before resting them on your lap, "I dont know where they are. Or I'm in the wrong pub!" I tried to chuckle, make light of it. I wasn't going to hold it against them but I still felt dejected.

He pulled out a hard wood chair next to me and sat down, "Could I spend the evening with you then luv? " I could see the features on his face better now, I didn't notice how blue his eyes were until he sat face to face with me, "A birdy like you should have a nice evening." He smiled and chucked slightly as he spoke, it made you feel warm.

Your face flushed, "You sure?" You asked, "I dont want to intrude on anything-"

"Believe me, it's fine." The stranger spoke gently, "I came looking for a good chat!" He was lively and his energy consoled you.

"Oh, I'm Richard by the way," he held out one of his hands and you noticed the rings on his last two fingers, "but all me mates call me Ringo." He chucked at himself again and you shook his hand, "y/n," you replied and smiled at him, "do you come to this pub often then?"

"Mostly on weekends but other than that every other day! When do you usually come here?" He leaned forward towards you and his wilting sky blue eyes waited for an answer. Before answering, you admired him, only for a split second; the curve of his lips, his long lashes and soft features made him look so charming.

In a flash you felt yourself get flustered at his handsome-ness. Dont be weird! You thought, you've got to think of an answer!

"Erm, well... I dont usually come on my own. But, I usually come down on weekends too, when me and my friends are off." You fiddled with your fingers, feeling your palms get sweaty. Be brave, be brave! "Even though my friends didn't show, I'm glad I'm talking with someone."

"Don't worry yourself doll," Richard stated, "I've had this happen and the best thing to do is not dwell on it!" He smiled again and it reassured you that what he said was true. This moment was surely just a blip in the grand scheme of many nights out you thought.

As the evening went on you both went back and fourth about questions and interests. You had learned that he plays the drums in a band that often played in another pub not far from this one.

You both shared a common interest in music and asked about if he had done any songs himself, to which he replied, 'I dont have anything solid, yet.' Sometimes he would ramble a little, then apologise but you didn't mind. You found him endearing and you liked hearing him talk and the more he talked the more you found yourself liking his company.

At one point he held your hand whilst he was talking about something and your mind completely zoned out, only focusing on his thumb gently running over the ridges of your fingers. He teased you when he saw how red your face was, according to him you were 'a kin to a tomato'. You felt so embarrassed that after Richard let go of your hand you rubbed and cupped your face hoping the blush would go away but he laughed again and called you cute, you hated how he already had this effect on you.

You cursed yourself for how easily he was swooning you with his sweet face and funny attitude and perfect eyes and cute nose and... and... ohhh no... you were in deep... he was already all you could think about this evening!

"Oh my goodness what is the time?" Richard exclaimed, snapping you out of your thoughts about him. He looked past you and presumably out of a window.

The evening turned to night and the outside world was dark, streetlamps illuminated the road with a warm hue. There were only a handful of people within the pub at that moment, it was very quiet. The radio being turned off didn't help with the stiffness of the atmosphere surrounding the pub but you two were happy with whatever you had going on.

"Can I walk you home?" He asked, already getting up out of his chair looking down at you for an answer.

"Would that be okay?" You answered, you couldn't really walk out in the pitch blackness on your own and at this point you just wanted to spend time with Richard.

"Of course love!" He extended a hand and you took it, happily going with a man you just met that night.

He opened the door for you and you thanked him as you both practically skipped out of the pub.

"My house isn't far from here, so I hopefully wont tire your legs." You giggled, smiling his way.

"Dont worry about me legs love," he huffed, "I wanna make sure I see you home safe."

"Thank you Richard." You really appreciated his kindness and couldn't be more thankful for meeting him.

The walk home was slightly misty and quiet, distant dog barks could be heard from time to time and the street laps hummed slightly as you both walked under them.

"I was just wondering," Richard stated, "I'm playing at a pub next week and would you like to see me and me mates play?" He asked before adding to the statement again, "Not in like, an egotistical way but like-" he cut himself off and laughed at his explanation.

"No I'd love to hear you play!" You exclaimed, you hoped he noticed how enthusiastic you were about wanting to hear him in his element.

"I'll save you front row seats!" He rubbed his hands together excitedly and you chuckled at him.

You recognised your neighbours houses, "Not far now," and soon enough, through the puddles and lamp light you were infront of your house. Tired but happy to be so near a bed as soon as I unlock the door...

You smiled again, "thank you again Richard."

"Its the least I coul do." He looked at you kindly and sweetly.

You looked down, a little nervous about how you should go about saying goodbye.

Caught up in the moment, you leaned in and cautiously you placed a delicate kiss on his cheeck.

Backing away, you already missed the feeling of Richard's warmth.

His hand gently moved to graze the area you kissed and after his shocked expression faded he smiled lightly to himself.

"Consider that a promise that I will, in fact, see you play next week!"

He looked at you, "you're a right charmer you know that?" You giggled at what he had to say.

It was late and even thought talking to Richard was the best thing to do, your bed was calling and you still wanted to make a good impression.

"I'm looking forward to seeing you play, I'll see you then-" you were about to unlock the door until he said something...

"Wait, theres something else I need to give you." He looked like he was thinking about something.

"Yeah, what is it. What's up?"

In a second he leaned forward and your mind raced, unsure of what he was doing, until one of his hands held your shoulder ever so tenderly and he kissed the corner of your lips.

The feeling was brief and chaste.

It still made you feel giddy with butterflies.

As Richard broke contact he placed both his of hands on either side of your cheecks, rubbing his thumbs on your reddening skin. You looked at him and he was beaming back at you.

"I, in fact, hope to see you there."

Author's note: this is my first ff on tumblr! I hope you liked it :^)

#the beatles #ringo starr #richard starkey #ringo starr x reader #this lad is too darn cute #fluff #hurt/comfort #pookie #the beatles x reader

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