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whynotjohnlock · 5 months

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Doctor x ADHD reader

^ My mental state at any given time when anyone asks about what happened yesterday.

Warnings: fluff, It might be a tad long, Grammar mistakes, you may feel slightly offended if you're a nerotipical person, the author wrote this because they didn't want to sleep and needed comfort.

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You'd forgotten something again. Was it about your job? Your family? Your friends you hadn't kept up with because you had misremembered the dates for? That one hyper fixation that you had today?

Nothing matched. Your brain was screaming at you for the time you wasted rethinking about what you had forgotten; but nothing came to mind.

A normal day then.

Then, as a distraction from your thoghts a high tech laser blaster thing punched through a brick wall and you started running for your life. Again.

There were alien pepper shaker robots with plungers. Why where they just repeating themselves over and over? Was that just how they spoke, or was there more to it? Was it nessasary to the way they shot lasers?

"Exterminate! Exterminate!" A laser jolted and swished right next to you.

"Right, I have to run."

And run.

And run. Except, now you had to not crash onto the person-

To late.

"Oh, hello humans! Is this your way of saying hello? Did I miss a decade?"

You reluctanly graped the strange man's hand. You were not fazed by the oddness in the queston; your thoghts were stranger. "I don't think so. It's just the fact that there are alien pepper shakers with plungers after us."

The man's face darkened, his youthful peesona flown out the window. "Where?"

You knew that the police would be of no help and the sadness in this man's eyes seemed to be familiar. "Can you help us if I tell you?"

"Short answer: Most likely."

"Now witch way?"

The question prompted eternal panic. Witch way was left? You couldn't remember. Were you facing north or south? You couldn't just point in a direction, because you had run in a extremely non-linear way.

Words had never been an accurate source of communication for you. Why were you this way? Well, you knew why; you had been diagnosed with ADHD, but that didn't answer your question. Why did you always forget the things you wanted to remember most? The strange man looked rather inpatient at your mental sputtering. You had to do something! So, you did the only thing you could think of at the time. Quickly you grabbed his outstretched hand and ran, guiding him though the chaotic path you had taken.

Your mind had not managed to retain much running for your life, but your feet did.

...Pass the blue house.

...Turning 90 degrees at the broken stop sign.

...Jaywalking around the stopped cars in the street.

...Turning again after the nameless black dog.

...Though a corporate building.

…And to the familiar building with the tin tanks.

your hand still fully clasped with this stranger you had just met, you spoke in between panting and gasping for air. "This is it. These are the alien metal tank creatures."

As if on cue, the screams not even across the blook started up again and an army of daleks (Not that you knew what they were called at the time) turned into view.

The madman lurched forward in outrage much like a predator looming in on their prey. He was unnerving. "Alright listen up! I am the Doctor, and you are the daleks! You have no right to this world, and It’s protected by none other than me. And you have made a grave mistake messing with me when I don’t have a companion, or anyone to holding me back. Leave before I run out of mercy."

"THE DOCTOR IS UNARMED. WE WILL DO NO SUCH THING."

EXTERMINATE!

A laser shot from the thingy that would have hit the silly man instead wiped by him as I pulled him into a run again.

Hiding behind a dumpster in an abandoned alley the Doctor fiddled around with a metal glowy stick and welded something together from his pockets quickly. "What are you doing?"

"No time to explain, get me some sort of electrical circuit board!"

"Will my phone work?"

Wordlessly the Doctor takes my phone, prys it from it's cashing, snaps it in half, and conects it to a very peculiar looking device.

EXTERMINATE!

The Daleks find us again but this time we don't run. The Doctor chucks the machine at the invasion party they aim towards us ready to end us.

EXTER-

The Doctor aims his tech stick toward the sky causing his device to activate. The result is instantaneous. Every dalek that was in front of us and firing ends up blowing up in several malformed chunks.

More daleks screech out words as they approach us. "EXPLAIN! EXPLAIN!"

"Ha! I've rerouted the your primary weapon to your self-distruct sequence by changing the commands signals! The doctor is never helpless unarmed, you lot should know that by now."

"RETREAT! RETREAT!"

The Daleks start to be enveloped by an otherworldly white glow and disappear all at once.

The mad man seems to return to an upbeat face and seems to slip his mask back on seamlessly as if the darkness never touched his eyes. He looked again to be a harmless Nerodiverrgent, clumsy and meek as if he hadn't just felled a armada of aliens ready to destroy the earth. he muttered under his breath about inter-galactic law, blissfully unaware of all the odd looks his direction who believed him insane.

It reminded you of the mask you had to put up for all the "Normal" people in your life. How many times had you stopped being every thing you were just for a brief connection?

"Hello, I think introductions are in order! what did you say your name was?"

You plunged back into the real world from your thoghts. "Y/N."

"Well, Y/N, you seem awfully calm considering your planet was just invaded."

"I could say the same thing about you. Also how did you do all that? Are you even human?"

"I'm the Doctor." The man enthusiasticly spoke as if that explained the anomalys of the day.

"Is the your last name or did you just have mean parents that named you Doctor?"

"I'm not human, and it's common for my species to have titles we choose for names."

"Right. I suppose another alien species isn't the weirdest thing that's happened today."

The Doctor broke out into a brilliant little grin. And reached into his coat pocket to grab a little black wallet thing. "Hold on I want to see if I'm right real quick. What's on this paper?"

"Um, It's blank?" I don't think I was catching whatever the silly man wanted me to see.

"You are clever! I knew it! And I do need a companion after...." The Doctor pauses in sorrow and pain.

"Y/N, how would you like to come with me?"

"Um, do you travel or something?"

"Oh, I forgot to mention it, haven't I? I go to lots and lots of different places and meet all sorts of aliens all the time. I hope you know most of them aren't like the Daleks. Millions of planets and galaxys and pulsars and planets up in the sky, one day I'll see them all."

It took a while to comprehend what silly man had just said. You adored the stars. And now this man you'd just met had really just asked you to go with him to see and go to places humans wouldn't go for maybe billions of years!? To boldy go were no one has gone before? (I'm an unapologetically ing references and I'm not sorry.) Was this heaven? Had you died in the Dalek attack?

"That sounds utterly fantastic! You're sure you want someone like me?"

"What are you talking about? You just saved my life and were fearless in the face of a world ending threat. If course I want someone like you."

"I just, usually people don't like the way I think."

The Doctor almost seemed offended. "Do I look like a usual person?"

"Good point."

I looked down in slight embarrassment for bringing it up.

"Hey look at me." The Doctor softly grabbed my shoulder and I tilted my face up to meet his sincere eyes.

"You know what I've found in my nine hundred years of life? I found out the people who get called Quiet or shy have the most interesting thoughts. I found out that the loneliest people end up being the kindest, that the people with disabilities have so much more grit and determination than the people that don't, that the people called slow are the most brilliant when they're done analyzing. that the so called freaks and weirdos of the world are twice as clever and twice as kind."

"Do you know why?" I was near tears and shook my head.

"Because people like you and me have to work twice as hard only to get half as far. We have strength, far beyond that the average eye can see because we're trying to make up for faults by working twice as hard. Our struggles make us more resilient, more creative, and better people. We take it apon ourselves to attempt to appear normal in an attempt to make connections, when in really they should be the ones understanding us."

"You humans are so silly we it comes to different ways of thinking. On gallifrey, you'd be celebrated, not punished for what you call a quote 'disorder'."

I hugged him. I hugged him harder and tighter than any stranger I'd ever hugged before.

Tears. Happy tears flew down my cheek. I loved this stranger, not for his looks or wacky demeanor.

But because there is that silly man's arms I knew again what it felt like to be understood.

We were standing in a world of unknowns, at top a street that had just been invaded but I knew one thing:

"I want to travel with you, Doctor."

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A/N: I'm sorry if you personally don't feel represented in the way I wrote (Y/N) having ADHD and ADD, but I want you to know that I'm only trying to share my experiences as I myself have been diagnosed. I don't want to shame anyone that shares my experiences; just bring them into the light.

#doctor who #doctor x reader #10th doctor #gender neutral reader #doctor who x male reader #11th doctor #tenth doctor #12th doctor #eleventh doctor #10th doctor x reader #adhd

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darklydeliciousdesires · 1 month

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Nobody's Girl - A Luca Changretta/OC Story.

Okay, okay! I got the message quite clearly that just a few of you are more than a wee bit excited for this, so regardless of the poll results, ya bestie over here is giving you the first chapter. Everybody gather round and meet Emily Jane. She shyly says hi.

Taglist - In the comments, please DM to be added/removed

Words - 4,224

Warnings - Adult content throughout, minors DNI!

Brooklyn, 1923. It was a dangerous place to be in certain areas of the New York borough, where bullets fell like rain and crimson bled plentifully into the gutters. Its misdeeds were becoming famous, the mob swelling like a well-fed beast, prowling the streets unleashed, snarling and hungry. In Brooklyn, the mafia were the kings, whether you, your mother, your cousin or the cops liked it or not.

It was generally advised that you did not protest.

Wiseguy compliance was safer than the alternative, and everybody knew it. When they came knocking, offering fistfuls of dollars to store barrels mostly containing contraband beer, gin and whiskey within the warehouses of legitimate businesses, the proprietors knew that you either said yes or you died. That money you were so generously handed would be earned back, though.

“So look, uh, you gonna be lookin’ after this cargo for us, right? That means there are gonna be certain guys on the street who ain’t gonna be too pleased about you working with us. So, what I’m gonna do is have a few of my guys lookin’ out for ya. Fifty bucks a week and nothin’ happens to your business, or your family.”

The story was the same for any other business within the radius of their turf, racketeering forced upon you whether you guarded contraband alcohol for them or not.

It was generally advised that you paid them the fifty bucks.

Of course, when it came to the families going to war with one another, there was nobody there to protect you, whether you paid into a protection racket or didn't. If the police were called, they generally – and purposefully - arrived too late, the large wedges of cash stuffed into their back pockets by whichever mob crew were buying their compliance ensuring that.

No, when the gunfire erupted and turned the silent streets into a bloodied cacophony, you knew there was only one thing to do.

It was generally advised that you duck.

On that particular chilly November night, though, with the threat of snow hanging heavy in the air from the thickened clouds above, one young woman opted not to duck. Instead, she chose to walk right out into the carnage, for it was perhaps the only avenue she could tentatively tread upon in order to save herself from hell.

The Changretta’s and the Calabrese's had been at war with one another over turf for months, disputes rife over what mob presided over which area, promises of blood come good after negotiations had failed, leading to the shootout between both crews in the dead of night.

Bullets peppered the air, tattooing the buildings and cars along the street, screams and shouts only just about audible over the thrum of heavy machine gun fire, men diving and dying left and right. The sins they fought and died for knew no difference, but somewhere in the madness, these men of bloodthirsty savagery had a line they would not ever cross.

The Changretta mob scanned the desolate street, high alert agitating their blood, neurons firing rapidly as they watched the area, looking, waiting for movement. The enemy had been thinned to what appeared to be nothing, their bodies littering the ground, but that didn’t mean there weren’t more lying in wait.

Luca’s unblinking eyes toured the darkness, daring to slowly rise from his concealed place behind the front wing of a shot-out Ford, each step crunching the shattered glass beneath his feet. Nothing. They’d accomplished the extermination mission sufficiently, not a single Calabrese goon left breathing.

“Boss! On your left!”

At his right hand’s call, Luca spun, directing his gun at what his eyes picked out through the inky night, a glowing light splitting the dark, his men beginning to fire.

“Stop, fuckin’ guns down, now!” he bellowed, his cadence rising sharply, way above his usual silky, rumbling drawl. “It’s a girl, you dumb fucks.”

She seemed to glide over the ground, her feet bare, platinum hair matted and tangled, the white lace of her dress torn and bloodied.

“What the fuck? Is it a trap, or what?”

Luca turned to view Enzo with a slight shrug, his hand reaching out to grasp his arm when he raised his gun. “Ah, aspetta, aspetta.” At being told to wait, his right hand once again lowered the machine gun, both Italians watching as the girl continued her walk, her eyes wide and dazed, her face bloody, purple welts marking her features. The closer she got, the more of them Luca noticed, angry and swollen upon her pale skin, the infliction of brutality tarnishing much of her body, a body that buckled as she suddenly fell, collapsing in the middle of the street.

“Ain’t no trap.” Moving out fully, Luca strode through rivers of blood and bullets, removing his long, wool coat, wrapping it over the barely dressed blonde as he crouched at her side. “Hey, what the fuck happened to you, huh?” He gave her cheek a few gentle slaps, trying to rouse her. “You with me? C’mon, wake up.” This truly wasn’t the time or place for damsels in distress. He had himself and his guys to think of before all else.

Her eyelids fluttered, blinking rapidly a few times as she came to, curling herself smaller. Her mouth opened, and Luca was sure she said something, but her voice was ghostly, so quiet he was scarcely sure she’d spoken at all.

“What? I can’t hear you.” He leaned closer, craning his ear, just about able this time to hear her words.

“There’s a bomb under your car. Twenty seconds.”

With widened eyes, his head spun round to where his assembled crew waited. “Move! The fuckin’ car is live, move!” Pulling her up off the street and into his arms, he and his men began to run, covering the ground rapidly. They’d gotten a good hundred feet away, yet their eardrums still all but ruptured when the TNT blew, reducing the Buick to an inferno.

They took cover behind another car, a car Enzo rapidly broke open the door of, cranking the engine into life. “Let’s get the fuck outta here, eh?”

So, it looked to Emily like she was leaving one set of wiseguys and going with another as the tall, slender man who held her jumped into the back of the car, three other guys piling in, the car shuddering out from its spot and being directed in the opposite direction to the blast.

“Hey boss,” Dante piped up from the passenger seat, nodding at the blonde. “Who’s the dame?”

“You know as much as I do.” He was just about to ask her that very question, looking down to see her head lolled over his arm, out cold once more. Whatever the fuck she’d been through, he could gauge it was a lot. Giving him the kind of information she had, though, information that had saved him and his crew from being blasted to smithereens, he wasn’t just about to let he be on her way.

If she knew about the bomb, then what other information might she have? The firefight had not exterminated all of the Calabrese mob, just a mere handful of foot soldiers.

Exiting the car on the corner of Third Avenue, Luca strode towards the doors of Bella Vita, the bar turned speakeasy he owned, the doormen nodding to him and swinging the doors open. He took an immediate right, the thumping blare of jazz music and patrons having a fabulous time hurting his still fragile, bomb-blasted ears, another large man employed for security purposes opening the next door he came to.

It closed with a heavy thud behind him, the wall of noise muted, Luca beginning to climb the stairs that led to his spacious apartment. It had only been home for seven months, since he had the former three dwellings gutted out and fashioned into something more resembling the comfort he was accustomed to. High standing members of the mafia did not reside in shabbiness.

His former abode, a sprawling townhouse upon the Upper West Side of Manhattan, was now solely home to his ex-wife and three children. For a quicker divorce from the wretched, screaming harpy whom he had once loved very dearly, he considered it a cheap price to part with for the sake of his sanity. Her alimony was also eye watering, but it wasn’t like Luca didn’t rake in serious bank.

He’d also never deprive Milania, Guiseppe and Alessio of anything. His sons were the apple of his eye, and his daughter, well, she was quintessentially daddy’s little girl. He just wished she had a smidgen less of her mother’s hot-headed temper. Then again, he supposed he deserved every ounce of it, not being a particularly good husband to Filomena.

Well, it was subjective, really. He provided for her, took her out regularly, bought her an abundance of luxuries from expensive jewellery to beautiful furs, but he did have somewhat of a predisposition for sticking his cock where he most certainly should not have stuck it. Filomena had all but turned a blind eye to his philandering ways, and Luca knew that was why he’d continued to do it, because she'd let him. She didn’t care, it seemed, so why should he?

Maybe if she’d have been the kind of woman to crack his jaw and tell him in no uncertain terms that he was hers and hers alone, he might have fixed up and adhered to the fidelity he’d promised her, but she never had. It went right over his head that this is what he should have pledged without the threat of violence in the first place.

The final straw finally drove her into action, though, arriving home earlier than he’d expected one day to find him in bed with two whores, one astride his face and the other riding his cock. There weren’t many women out there who could witness the man they loved in that kind of scenario and still continue to love him. She’d given him nothing but pure, unfiltered hell in the time between, Luca agreeing to all of her demands, just as long as she didn’t touch either his car collection, his speakeasy, or his home in the Catskills.

Carrying the mystery blonde over to the lounge area of the open plan apartment, he placed her down on the dark, oxblood leather chesterfield, noticing that she’d come round again. “You wanna drink, sweetheart?”

She nodded, beginning to tremble a little. “Hey, you’re alright. I ain’t gonna do nuthin’ bad to ya.” Emily doubted his sincerity, knowing wiseguys as well as she did. His voice was half salty rumble, half viper’s hiss, but each word was delivered with the kind of hush that made her feel soothed, she had to admit. The quietness of his tone made a nice change from being yelled at. “Whaddya drinkin'?”

“A water, p-please,” she stuttered, Luca nodding. He’d been offering liquor, but water he could do, too.

He paused before going to fetch it, crouching before her, studying her wounds a little more closely now she was under the brighter lights within his home. “Those cuts are nasty, doll. Who fuckin’ did this, eh?” He reached for her face, regretting it instantly when she shot across the couch, curling into a ball at the opposite end. “Woah, hey. Like I said, I ain’t gonna hurt ya. I just wanna help you, and for you to tell me what you know about the Calabrese guys. I’m guessin’ you know a whole lot, to know one of ‘em stuck a bomb beneath my car.”

She trembled, her eyes wide, her silence profound. “I’m gonna get you that water.” He rose to his feet slowly, knowing he had to treat her as if she were an injured fawn, everything slow and steady, save her from becoming furtherly spooked.

Caring for another, though, was somewhat beyond his usual skill set. Luckily from his own scrapes, he both knew how – and possessed the necessities - to clean up wounds before they became an infected mess, going to the bathroom and pulling out gauze and a bottle of iodine, returning to the kitchen to fetch her requested glass of water.

He handed it to her, moving to his drinks cabinet then and pouring himself a large measure of whiskey, returning to sit in front of her on the coffee table. “You gonna let me clean you up?”

She shook her head, spilling several drops of water as she lifted the glass to her lips, downing it in its entirety.

He nodded, sucking the matchstick he was chewing before removing it. “Alright. You gonna tell me what you know?”

Again, she shook her head.

He shrugged, a little agitated, but knowing he had to play his cards carefully. “I got all night, doll. Could start with your name, though, if the rest is too much to ask.”

She wanted to trust him. Hell, he could have simply dropped her from his grasp and left her there on the street, but he’d taken her with him, back to the safety of his apartment, no less. Of course, though, it was to gain information. Then again, if it was solely that, why was he trying to help her? Men who sought only answers to their questions seldom had the interest to clean wounds. Hell, they usually jammed a gun to your tonsils and told you to spill all as soon as they removed it.

Who was she to him that he’d care whether her cuts were bathed? Still, it took him a patient wait of just over a half hour until she finally spoke.

“Emily Jane,” she finally replied, swallowing hard. “Emily Jane Mortensen. Most people just call me Emily, though.”

He lifted his chin, pointing to her water glass. “You want another in there, Emily?”

“Please.”

Well, she had a name, at least. It was as good a start as any. “You know,” he began, long legs extending as he rose to his feet, walking back over to the kitchen area, “the Calabrese’s won’t do shit to you with me around. If that’s why you’re scared to talk, ain’t no mind, doll.” Returning to her, he resumed his seat upon the coffee table, handing over the glass. “Like I said, though. I got all night.”

Protection. Something she’d longed for, but could she truly trust it? She knew exactly who he was; Luca Changretta, the big boss, the number one apex predator at the top of the mafia hierarchy. It was either the very best, or the absolute worst place that she could have ended up. “Gino Calabrese ordered Joey, his youngest son to have the bomb planted, so that if the firefight didn’t kill you, the blast definitely would.”

His eyebrows rose a little, chewing the matchstick slowly. “And you know this how? Who are ya, to Gino?”

Finishing her water, she reached to place it upon the coffee table, Luca taking it from her, resting his forearms back to his thighs as he leaned forward, looking expectant. “Um, nothing to him, but to his son, I – well, I was his card counter. That’s kinda moot now, though, since you and your guys put about sixteen bullets in his chest.”

His lip curled slightly. “Card counter?”

“Yeah. I have a real fast brain for math, so technically I can’t ever be beaten in a game of blackjack. I won Joey thousands upon thousands at games all over, from Vegas to Reno. Illegal games, too. Women don’t usually get a seat at the table, but I got to, because...”

“Cuz’ Joey boy was partially sighted, I’m guessin’, right? You were his alleged eyes, but truly, you were there to tell him when to make his moves, amirite?”

God, he was very sharp. “Correct,” she confirmed, although Luca still looked slightly dubious, reaching behind him and grabbing something. He turned back to reveal a deck of cards, sliding them from the box and giving them a rapid shuffle.

“Show me.” Standing, he moved to sit beside her on the couch, dragging the table nearer and dealing out as he were the house, Emily moving a little nearer.

“Alright, so I mostly use the Hi-Lo strategy. It means if the ratio of high to low cards is higher than normal, the player can make bets that are larger when the deck is favourable.”

He noticed it instantly, how when presented with the opportunity to show off her skill, she unwound from the nervous, tense little waif he’d carried into his home just over an hour before. “How’d you know if the deck is favourable?” he asked, a frown knitting between his dark brows as he pointed at them on the table.

“You have to track the ratio of high to low cards by assigning them with a value. You begin at zero, then as each card comes up, you add it to your tally. Cards two to six have a value of plus one, cards seven to nine have no value, and cards worth ten and also aces have a value of minus one, so you keep adding and subtracting, betting accordingly. Watch. Hit me.”

He dealt her another card, Emily tapping it. Another was placed. “I’m holding.” Turning the other cards, he saw she would have won her hand had they been playing for cash. He made her do it another five times before he truly believed what she could do, sitting there with slightly widened eyes.

“Look at that, huh?” he spoke, gathering the cards from the table and returning them to the pile. “No wonder he kept you around.”

She shrugged. “Shame it wasn’t of my own free will. All of this mess I’m in, it was because I tried to get away from him earlier, so he took a set of brass knuckles to me. Wasn’t the first time either.”

He studied her face, his jaw tightening. Luca had few codes of honour, and not taking his fists to a woman was high upon that list. He hissed a breath, his eyes narrowing. “Fuckin’ asshole. I’m extra glad I shot the living fuck outta him now.”

Dropping her gaze, she folded her arms, looking at her bare feet. “So am I.”

Reaching for his drink, he knocked it back, truly feeling glad that Joey no longer breathed. If there was one thing he truly detested, it was a woman beater. He didn’t have much to be proud of in his life, morally speaking, but he had never and would never raise a hand to a woman. Ever. “Fuckin’ brass knuckles, Jesus above. I know how much those fuckin’ things hurt only too well.”

She snorted softly, her eyes finding his again, her heart doing a little somersault as she watched the peridot shards glint at her through the low light. Hoo boy, he was a handsome one. Deadly, but handsome nonetheless. “Who on earth is brave enough to take a set of brass knuckles to the famous Luca Changretta, and live to tell the tale?”

He smirked, rising to his feet. “Nobody these days, but when I was still comin’ up, plenty of guys.” Moving back to the drinks cabinet, he took the bottle of whiskey, turning to her. “You want another water in there, or somethin’ else? I got just about everythin'.”

Peering at him over the back of the couch, he felt his inside pinch a little. She was so tiny and cute. “Could I have a vodka rocks, please?”

“You can, but ice I don’t have. Gimme a sec.” He strode across the space again, heading back down the stairs, the sounds of music growing louder and then returning to the dull rumble, Emily moving to pull on the long coat around her, feeling chilly. It smelled of him. The woody, musky, yet slightly spicy notes of whatever cologne he wore filled her nose as she held the soft lapels to her face.

The sudden blare of music signalled his imminent return, the tall Italian appearing from the stairwell once more, carrying with him an ice bucket he placed upon the table, going back to the cabinet and collecting the whiskey and vodka bottles, pouring a large measure into her glass, dropping the ice in and handing it to her.

“Thank you,” she spoke, Luca noticing her manners were impeccable, also watching her face as it twisted into a grimace, Emily hissing before straightening her leg, examining her grazed knee.

He gestured to her injuries with a sweeping hand. “Gonna let me help you with that yet? You’re kinda bleeding all over my couch.”

In an instant, she looked horrified. “Oh, I’m so sorry, and probably your coat, too. I’m an idiot, I'll sit on the floor.”

He moved swiftly, shaking his head. “It’s fine, ain’t no bother, doll.” In truth, it was, but he kept that to himself. Blood cleaned off, he had to concede. This girl, he needed to keep her sweet in order to keep on feeding him further information that he sensed she possessed. Joey Calebrese might not have been high up within his criminal family, a street guy who was not yet elevated at the time of his death (and which was why, Luca guessed, he’d used Emily for her card counting skills to make the kind of bank his lower standing didn’t allow for) but being around them, she was bound to know more.

She was a valuable asset, and he’d treat her as such.

He picked up the handful of gauze and iodine, moving back to the coffee table. “It’s gonna sting like fuck, but you likely know that.”

She did. Bracing herself, she clenched her teeth as one by one, Luca dabbed each cut and graze with the iodine-soaked gauze, wincing, hissing at the burning, sharp sting. “Gonna be a little black n’ blue for a while, honey,” he drawled, his mouth tilting into a smile. “Still pretty, though.”

He winked, and it sent a spark through her, although the rational side of her brain told her that allowing herself to be charmed by a dangerous mobster was the last thing she truly needed right then. He didn’t make it easy, though, being attentive to her, looking as good as he did. She’d always had a thing for older men, and she could guess he likely had at least a decade and a half on her twenty-three years.

“So, you gotta home I can take you to, people wonderin’ where the fuck you vanished to?”

Home. It was a word she didn’t really have any true comprehension over, the place that to everyone else acted as a sanctuary, a safe haven, had truly been anything but to her. “No, I don’t.”

“No port in a storm, huh?” he asked, gently lifting her leg to rest upon his slender thigh, smoothing her dress up a little to reach a cut beneath. His hands were so hot. Yet another spark flared within her belly.

“No, no port.” She paused, meeting his eyes, knowing he was expecting more. “I’ve no idea who my father was, and my mother was a drunk, still is for all I know. I don’t have any siblings either so when I was eighteen, I left California and made my way across the country to New York. Wanted a better life for myself. It didn’t exactly go to plan. I have a habit of trusting the wrong people.”

He looked away from her then, eyes flitting to her knee, pressing the gauze onto an open cut. He was definitely a man she shouldn’t have trusted, and he wasn’t entirely sure why that suddenly prickled quite sharply at his conscience, but it did.

“You probably don’t trust me, but if you wanna crash here until you find your feet, you’re welcome to.”

She looked at him with big, grey eyes full of hope. “Really, you don’t mind?”

He sniffed. “Wouldn’t have offered if I did.” Placing the cork back into the iodine bottle, he moved to take a seat beside her again, picking up his drink. “Might be better if you do, actually. The Calabrese’s are likely lookin’ for ya. If you vanished and didn’t wind up as a dead body, and I didn’t get blown up, then it don’t take no genius to work out that you ratted on ‘em.”

Shit. She hadn’t even considered that. It was a fear Luca was banking on playing upon, and it had worked flawlessly. “S’okay, though, sweetheart. As long as you’re with me, they ain’t gonna touch ya. You’re fine.”

Was she, though? Emily truly had to wonder. She pondered over it for the rest of the night, Luca telling her she could go take a bath and clean up, loaning her one of his shirts to wear that absolutely buried her, telling her he’d take the couch while she slept in his bed. She tried to protest, but he wouldn’t hear of it.

“I ain’t exactly a gentleman in a lot of respects, but you ain’t gonna sleep on the couch. Nah. It’s fine.”

Was it, though? As her tired eyes fluttered, lying in the comfort of a big bed that smelled like her host, she truly did have to wonder.

#luca changretta fanfiction #luca changretta smut #luca changretta x oc #peaky blinders fanfiction #peaky blinders smut #luca changretta fanfic #luca changretta fic #luca changretta #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders fic #nobody's girl #luca and emily #adrien brody

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hihomeghere · 6 months

Text

Hihomeghere Masterlist

My requests are open! Go ahead and send me your requests via my 'ask me anything' button on my blog!

Prompt list

The Umbrella Academy

Diego Hargreeves

Nightwing You try to keep Diego Hargreeves off your mind, especially after your break up. But after he breaks into your apartment begging you to patch him up. All the good and bad memories come flooding back.

Five Hargreeves

Wedding at the End of the World A reader insert for the episode Wedding at the End of the World. You and Five reminisce on your wedding/proposal before going to Luther and Sloanes wedding. You both go to the wedding with high hopes of a good evening.

Carousel Club After being dropped into 1963, you find work at the Carousel Club as a dancer. While following a tip where Luther could be, Five sees your routine. Overwhelmed by jealousy he sneaks into your dressing room.

Et tu, Brute? Based off a request, Five gets injured in a mission and you drop everything to make sure he's ok.

Insomniac Five has trouble sleeping and when he does sleep it's anything but peaceful. After a nightmare he craves your touch to remind him you're okay.

Tesoro Universe

Tesoro While working at the commission as a field agent you are assigned a new partner, Number Five.

Meet the Family Five finds a way to return to 2019, you both break your contract with the commission and you meet your in-laws for the first time.

One Bed After a failed mission with the commission, both you and Five find a hotel to rest in. The only problem is, you'll have to share a bed. (Can be read as a one-shot)

Unspoken thing Part 2 of One Bed, after that fateful night in the hotel room. Five has been avoiding you and now you're called into the Handler's office to take responsibility for the delay in exterminating the target.

Routine After the confession, Five and reader head back to a hotel room. Soft dom y/n. (Can be read as one-shot)

The Last of Us

Joel Miller

The Two C's Joel catches you smoking on your porch. Set in Jackson after the events of TLOU. Short and sweet

Red Dead Redemption 2

John Marston

Burning Love Set in the epilogue of RDR2. You stumble upon John in Blackwater after being alone for years. When he invites you to visit Beecher's Hope, will you be able to fight feelings that have been building ever since you were kids?

Gloves John goes crazy over you dressed up for a job, more specifically your white gloves

Arthur Morgan

Fakin' It After a botched robbery, Arthur and you take refuge in a hotel, hiding from the O'Driscolls outside your door. When they do decide to search for you two, how will you throw them off your track?

Fishing in the Dark You and Arthur have a private evening away from camp on the Dakota river.

Dreams Arthur starts having dreams of starting a family with you

My Eyes Only Arthur thinks you look like a work of art

Salt and Pepper Arthur notices his hair is starting to gray

Deserving 6. I won't let anything happen to you, I swear. 34. I think you're showing. 36. You're glowing. 41. The baby loves hearing you sing/speak. 83. Was that a kick?

Charles Smith

Knight in Shining Armor 1. "Kiss me" "What-", 81. "Your heart is racing."

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staysaneathome · 11 months

Text

Not me imagining one day that a worn and withered mango is brought before Emperor Amethar of the Concordant Empire, the first of his name. She has been caught and is on trial for murder, for killing a seemingly innocuous servant of Vegetanian origin, but her final request is to be brought before the Emperor, to speak in private audience with him.

He recognizes her. Barely, the years cobwebbing his memories, but he remembers the mango who fought by Gustavo’s side. Amangeaux Epicée. The one who vanished mysteriously from before the war tent during the battle of Pangranos.

She laughs, a dry, raspy thing. “My liege, there is far more to the story than that.”

And she tells him.

She tells him of being a widowed queen, certain there were enemies all around her, placing her trust in only her faithful handmaiden, the kindly radish priest of the Bulb who did not abandon her like everyone else, and a young chili pepper she always saw as a daughter, despite the girl’s strength of character and martial prowess.

She tells him of receiving a letter, containing her darkest secret. Of meeting a thane of the meatlands and a cheesy sellsword outside the finished food pyramid, alongside her chili pepper spymaster and radish priest. Of descending into the depths to hold audience with the ones calling themselves “The Fellowship of Destiny’s Architects”, and the certainty they would all be called upon again one day.

Of escaping to Comida on the advice of her two closest advisors to throw her lot in with Tomaté. Of the summons sitting there in the carriage they were escaping in. Of being given a task: assassinate a threat to the future on behalf of the FDA.

Of not being told who the target was until the fatal blows had already been struck.

It is a miracle Amethar doesn’t rend her head from her shoulders then and there. He agrees to wait until her tale is done, one hand on the hilt of Payment Day.

Amangeaux explains the horror of learning what the FDA’s true purpose was, that it was headed by none other than the late Archbishop herself. Of running, abandoning all she loved save the one who depended on her the most. Of honing her knowledge and skills, giving herself to Gustavo, a blade to be wielded to help instead of harm. She speaks of the march to Pangranos, of reuniting with a demoted wreck of archdeacon and a cheesy knight of the Bulb. Of standing outside that tent, pretending her heart wasn’t leaping for joy at the sight of her little chili pepper grown into a fine and strong woman, of the thane turned warlord in his quest for power.

Of following the babbling, raving archdeacon when he sighted what they had come across so many years ago: a being of mold and fungus, gentle, expressive, and almost childlike. Who are connected, and communicate through emotions rather than words, who allow for the rot of death to be turned to the soil of life.

Of discovering the FDA’s taint had spread so far as to enslave an entire seventh kingdom of these beings, beneath the earth.

Of watching the Archbishop become an avatar of a monstrous existence beyond the Hungry One and the Bulb, a being of alien metal and spinning teeth that rent anything which entered it, uncaring and unnourished.

Of losing her two closest companions, her kindly radish and her little chili pepper, to its blades.

She speaks of vowing retribution. Of exterminating every last member of the FDA she could find, wherever she could find them. Of employing all the techniques she’d seen her spymaster use, oh so long ago.

Of completing her mission with this one, final death.

Amethar has to sit with this a moment.

“Why now?” He asks. “You have survived unseen all this time. You have told nobody of your crimes or exploits. Why me? Why now?”

Queen, then Lady, then just Amangeaux Epicée de la Pêche gives a tired grin.

“For you are the Concordant Emperor of Calorum,” She states, “And one of those most hurt by our actions. It is only fitting you should be aware of the seventh kingdom under your protection, and the chance to understand what circumstances delivered it to you.”

She is still smiling even when Payment Day’s blade cuts into her.

#a crown of candy #the ravening war #the ravening war spoilers #lady amangeaux epicée du peche #queen amangeaux epicee du peche #amethar rocks #king amethar #let 👏 Amethar 👏 have 👏 closure #dimension 20 acoc #dimension 20 trw #d20 trw #d20 acoc #acoc #is this a good end?#is it a bad end?#no one knows #it just possessed me #and i wrote it

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the-sinister-story-teller · 16 days

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Healing.

Mentions: Angst, fluff, male reader.

Topic: You find Angel crying in his room, and decide to comfort him.

A/n: I LOVE writing Angel. He's so sweet and wholesome to do with certain topics, I love it. This is a oneshot and not an actual fanfiction TuT.

You sighed. It had been a long day of work, trying to dismiss all the trouble going on with redemption. It was past the whole extermination, and the hotel had been fully rebuilt and renovation. During it all, you had confessed to Angel in case something bad happened to you. So, now, you two are an official couple. It took the rest of the hotel by surprise, but you didn't care. You both were more than happy in your relationship with how it was, and you didn't want it any other way. You walked by your room, peeking in with a smile.

"Angie! Babe guess who's back!" You called out but stopped, realizing the demon wasn't there. "huh...he's in his room probably." You shrugged, knocking on his room door, hearing hiccups and a weak 'what'. In a panic, you swung the door open, watching angel shoot up from his bed, fat nuggets in arms.

"Sh-Shit! Y/n what are you-" He exclaimed. You rushed to him, wiping his tears sweetly and peppering his face in kisses.

"Angie-! What happened!? Are you ok?" You asked, shaken up as Angel relaxed in your arms, resting his head against your chest.

"Just...Had a real bad dream 's all.." Angel murmured, before continuing, "You won't ever leave me...Right?" He asked and you winced at the question.

"Is that what the bad dream was..?" You asked, and Angel teared up, as you smiled, kissing him softly, before gently pulling away, cupping his cheeks. "Angie, why would I leave you..? Your the best thing that's happened to me in this shit hole! I wouldn't trade you for the world." You comforted, making him giggle as he hugged him and Nuggets close. "You two...are my fucking world Anthony...I wouldn't ever leave you.." You muttered and Angel sighed softly.

"I love you too babycakes...Guess I was just shaken up is all..." Angel muttered as you nodded before nudging him with a smirk.

"Now c'mon! I got you stuff!" You teased as Angel raised a brow in confusion. You laughed at this, "It's a surpriiiise!" Almost instantly Angel got out of bed, wiping his face of tears.

"Then what th' hell are we doin'!? Let's go babycakes!!" He exclaimed, grabbing your wrist, still holding fat nuggets, dragging you out. A bit through the hallway, Angel stopped and turned to you. "About what you said earlier...About how you wouldn't trade me for the world? Well...I'd move heaven 'n hell for you babe." Angel said and you smiled sweetly, as you approached him, kissing him sweetly. It was passionate yet loving, and you both gently pulled away.

"I love you Y/n."

"I love you more Anthony."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/n: I LOVED WRITING THIS IT WAS SO WHOLESOME AHHH

#angel dust fluff #hazbin angel dust #angel dust x reader #male reader #oneshot #hazbin oneshot #angel dust oneshot

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dualityvn · 3 months

Note

Hello, I think I deserve several hugs and kisses and a few nice words right now… for no reason in particular

"Thoughts of you are what lulls me to sleep every night and what brings a smile to my face throughout the day, my love. And if there's something or someone who upset you, I hope you know I'll gladly exterminate them." - Keith, before he peppers kisses all over your face

"I don't have fancy words, but I love you and you're really precious to me. I probably like you more than chocolate." - Tenebris as he hugs you tight

#duality game #duality keith #duality tenebris

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selineram3421 · 1 year

Note

New Years kiss with Alastor?

Fuck yeah.

New Year Kiss(es)

Alastor X Reader Small Oneshot

Warnings? ⚠

⚠ mentions of death, kiss on the cheek, sitting on lap, nuzzling, nose kiss, more kisses ⚠

Extermination day was always interesting.

Looking outside from the closed window in your hotel room, you saw demons getting slaughtered by holy beings.

"Enjoying the show darling?", your love asked from behind you, wrapping an arm around your waist and putting a finger under your chin, making your head turn.

Alastor gave you a soft content smile.

"Nothing too interesting this time. No one's fought back yet.", you smile back and place a kiss on his cheek.

"Hmm~", he hummed and twirled you to face him completely. "It'll happen eventually.", he said and swept you off your feet. (Literally)

Carrying you over to the couch, he sat down with you in his lap. Static buzzed lightly as he nuzzled his face into your neck.

"Are you enjoying today?", you ask, getting comfortable and placing a hand on his chest.

You lift up your other hand, you start running your fingers through his hair, lightly scratching at his scalp.

The static buzzed a little louder.

"I enjoy everyday with you.", he says, voice slightly muffled, still not moved from your neck.

Giving a light scratch behind his ear, the static pops until you stop.

"What time is it?", he asks, holding you tighter.

Looking over at the clock on the dresser, you see that its almost twelve.

"Three minutes till twelve love."

He sits up and cups your face, placing a kiss on your nose. "I'll have to use this time wisely.", he says.

You look at him confused.

Leaning closer, he places another kiss on your cheek, then another on your other cheek, and another on your forehead. He peppers kisses almost all over your face.

You laugh as he does so.

The clock chimes at twelve, signifying the end of extermination day.

At last, Alastor kisses you on the lips.

"Happy New Year my dear."

This is late. AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH-

~Seline, the person.

Taglist@

@ducky-died-inside @stolas-thebirb @c4rved-pumpk1n

#x reader #gn reader #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor the radio demon #alastor x reader #the radio demon #hazbin hotel oneshot #oneshot #small oneshot #fluff #kisses #implied death #2023 #like gomez and morticia but ace

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mj3llyfish · 13 days

Text

Fallen angel!Adam x Moth Healer!Reader

Chapter 3: The beautiful light

(Ch.1) (Ch.2) (Ch.3)

Warnings: Swearing, nightmares, cannibalism, and smoking

A/n: Just wanna thank all the peeps that were able to vote on the poll I made a few days ago <33 Had no idea what to do for the story so voting really helped me. Also this one’s kinda L O N G, I just had a lot of ideas for this part. (Also this song just reminded me of this fic listen to it PLS)

Adam’s pov:

Another weird ass dream, ever since I moved in this chicks hip-dip apartment I’ve been getting them. It’s mostly the day of the extermination, I can’t believe I didn’t turn back as soon as they started fighting back. Now I let everyone in heaven down, even Lute.

Whatever, I need to go wiz. I should probably stay quiet otherwise that butterfly bitch might wa-

Third dream pov (idk what to call it):

Before Adam can finish his thoughts, he looks towards the mirror, revealing his angel form but severely injured, and with a large gaping wound in his chest, surrounded by blood. Adam lets out a startled yelp, backing up against the bathroom door, awakening him.

Normal third pov:

Adam wakes up, startled at his new dream. He had still been lying on the couch, but his eyes wider than ever. He sits up, some of the leather couch sticking against his sweaty body, scratching the back of his head. The grey morning sky shined between the window blinds, he wanted to go back to sleep, but who could after a dream like that?

Adam rushes to the bathroom, quickly opening the door and turning on the lights, heading straight to the mirror. He gently touches his left horn, feeling a mix of relief but also disappointment that he’s back in his new body.

A lousy cough escapes his chapped lips, feeling that his throat is dry, and decides to get water from the kitchen tap, grabbing a mug and filling it up with water. Sure it tasted weird and warm, but he didn’t care. He chugged the nearly the whole thing in one sip, with some water spilling from the cup to his chin hairs. Adam slams the cup against the table.

Suddenly, a displeasing alarm goes off in the distance. He realizes that he’s not alone in here, what could that alarm be for tho? Y/n steps out of from her room still in her pajamas, yawning.

“Oh Adam!... What are you doing up this early?” She asks while heading to the kitchen. “I dunno man, just felt like it.” He responds in annoyance, “What are you doing up this early? You’re the one with the annoying ass alarm.”

Y/n rolls her eyes a bit while opening the fridge and taking out a box of frozen waffles, “I just have somethings to do today, so I thought I’d wake up early. I’m planning to pick up something from cannibal town.” She begins putting some waffles in a toaster while making herself a latte. “Gasp, you should totally come!!” Y/n exclaims excitedly.

Adam looks alarmed, offended even, and just stairs in confusion. “Y/n, why in the fuck, would I want to go anywhere, in this miserable place.” He says in a brutally honest manner. “I mean seriously, are you blind? Have you seen what goes on out there??” Adam pulls y/n to the window opening the blinds, revealing a guy getting his brains blown out.

Y/n cringes at the sight, “okay yeah it’s not great, but cannibal town is pretty enjoyable! Cmon you’ll see what I mean when we go there, plus you get to try out those wings of yours.” She says pointing at his scaly two scaly things, leading Adam to spread one of them a bit.

Y/n stares at Adam waiting for an answer, he sighs in annoyance, “eugh, fine I’ll go. Whatever means I can crash in here.” She then jumps in excitement, “Yess!! Also you’re going to have to pay at least half of the rent here if you wanna stay.” (He really thought 😭)

Time skip: 2hours

Adam waits on the couch waiting for y/n to finish up getting ready, y/n was lucky to find her old roommates clothes in his size. He has a leather jacket, along with black jeans and a Red Hot Chili Peppers shirt. He’s wearing the same boots he wore when he got here tho, he thought they’d look good with his jacket. Adam flinches at the sudden steps of y/n who just finished up, walking in the room.

“Sorry, I didnt scare you did I?” She says chuckling whilst brushing her hair. She had a long forest green skirt, along with a brown laced top and a cardigan that only reached her elbows. “So do you wanna fly or walk there? I can teach you how!”

Adam realizes, he has to pretend he doesn’t know how to fly, otherwise she might get suspicious. He assumes that since one angel has fallen, then there must be a shit ton. He can’t let her know that he’s the reason for the exterminations. “yeah, yeah totally totes you can definitelyteachmehowtoflymanandstuffhahahha” He rambles on while his eyebrows are furrowed and making finger guns to him, noticeably sweating his ass off.

Y/n notices this, then coming to a conclusion. “I know why you’re nervous, Adam..” She says gently, while looking up at him. Adam panics, nearly choking on his spit, “Ar-Ar you serious?”

“Yeah..

you must be afraid of heights!” She exclaimed happily, truly a eureka moment for this woman. Adam sighs in relief, the most unbearable relief anyone has ever felt. “I knew it from the moment I saw you, it’s always the tall ones.” She says shaking her head. “We don’t have to fly, Adam. It’s only a mile or two away, we’ll get there in no time!” Y/n adds picking up her messenger bag. “Now, let’s get going!” She says with a bright smile.

As they step onto the sidewalk, y/n notices that Adam seems a bit cautious. Normally when he was in hell it was to commit a massacre, not having to worry about a sinner hurting them because-well they couldn’t at the time. But now things are different, he’s one of them now.

“Relax,” Y/n starts, “just stay out of trouble, and stick with me. Oh and also watch your step, these guys are open to just taking a dump anywhere they’d like.”

The two begin to walk on the dirty sidewalk, y/n being extra careful about where she’s walking, but Adam doesn’t really mind stepping on a used condom or some junkies bag of coke.

“So, what’s it like up there?” Y/n asks, Adam gets alarmed at her question, stuttering a bit. “uuuUUP WHERE?”

“On earth! I heard that the sky is blue instead of red. And the animals there are not as scaly” y/n begins to stroke the soft hairs on her left wing, she was truly torturing this poor man. “How do the animals look here?” He asks, before y/n can respond,

splat!

A large red fleshy snake falls onto the ground, not really moving that much, just there. “I think that should answer your question” y/n then walks over the seemingly dead snake, while Adam does the same.

“So like, what do you guys do here all day?” Adam questions while sneering at the explicit posters causally displayed out in the open. “I mean, that depends on who you’re asking. Most people go on a rampage as soon as they get here, at least from what I see.” Y/n shrugs. “But sometimes you find a stable part of hell, or at least as stable as hell can be.” Adam becomes slightly intrigued about what she’s saying about hell. “Like, I work at a cafe around here. It’s nice but it’s a bit hard to keep up the wage when angels and demons wreck the place every now and then.” She says sadly, Adam feeling a wave of shame, that she has to live in constant fear while working because of others, and sometimes him.

Eventually, both y/n and Adam finally enter cannibal town. Adam being a bit wary, since he sees many familiar faces around the place, but not for good reason. Y/n then noticing, “Adam? You don’t look so good, is something wrong?” She questions. Adam begins to snap out of his cautious mode, “uhh, yeah?It’s not like on earth people are open to just eating each other out in the open-and NOT in the good way.” He scoffs, pointing to a gentlemen eating another’s guts out. “Oof, Rosie might wanna get that checked at.” Y/n says looking over at where Adam is pointing.

“And who the hell is Rosie??” Adam asks pretty loudly, “The mayor, but I’m sure she’s busy today. Anyways, I’m gonna go to the florist shop. Whole I go you can..” Y/n begins to look around, trying to find a place for Adam to get distracted, then finding a smoke store nearby. “-go to the smoke shop!” She suggests pointing nervously to the shop, hoping that her assumption wouldn’t offend him.

Adam stared at the shop for a bit, he had smoked before, but it was mostly when he was able to disguise himself as a human and go to earth. But he hasn’t done that in a while, last time he smoked he found himself passed out at the back of some hippies van. Ever since Sera made sure he was always watched whenever he went to earth.

“…yeah sure I’ll go smoke.” He submits. Y/n taking a breath of relief, “good! I’ll be in the shop if you need me” Y/n quickly gives him a nice 50, then going off to the flower shop.

Adam finishes his shopping trip pretty quickly, to be fair all he had was 50$ and the store was quite small. He just bought a bubbler and a pack of cigarettes, along with a lighter of course. He sits on a bench that had been between the two stores, then smoking one of the cigarettes.

He sat on that thing for at least 6 or 7 minutes. As he was sitting, he did notice that this place was nicer than every other part of hell. A bit weird to think about, how just a few days ago they were trying to kill each other. A huge gust of wind blows his cigar onto the floor, and into a puddle to his left. His attention is then drawn into the reflection for a few seconds, but he shrinks away from the pain of realizing he’s a demon now, and turns away closing his eyes.

After a good 9 minutes, y/n comes out with a woven basket of lavender, as well as candles with flowers inside of them. “Oh I took so long didn’t I?” She apologizes. “They just had a great sale on candles I couldn’t resist!” Y/n begins to sit down with Adam, hoping to rest a bit after standing round for a bit. “So, how have your last few days been down here?”

“Shitty. Do you have any eyeliner?” Adam replies manspreading, him being slightly slouched down. Y/n then scurries in her bag, hoping to find some. “I didn’t strike you as the type to wear eyeliner.” She chuckles, handing him the small stick along with a hand mirror. “What shape do you like putting it? I like a thin feline, it’s cute but basic.” Y/n shrugs, “Do I look like Jeffery star to you? I don’t know the fuckin species of eyeliner.” He laughs shaking his head giving himself a soft Smoke. Y/n laughs along with him, setting down the basket of lavender and candles between them.

“I got the lavender stuff for you.” Y/n says, Adam pauses, looking over at y/n. “…you’re not that smart are you?” Adam stares judgmentally, y/n taking lots of offense to his comment but keeping quiet. “Why do I need flowers right now? I don’t need a pity gift, especially if they’re some fucking flowers.” Adam scoffs. “No, they aren’t a pity gift or anything, I can tell you haven’t slept peacefully ever since you’ve gotten here.” Y/n removes a bit of the cloth on the basket to take one of the lavenders out. “These will be able to help you, I can make tea out of them and they’ll help you out. Or we can use the aromatherapy I got with it too, just in case you don’t like tea.” Y/n offers, she reaches over to gently grab Adam’s hand places it on hers.

“I know you’re going through a lot Adam. You don’t have to tell me why, but I need you to know that hiding your feelings wont do any good for you.” She explains giving a worried but weirdly comforting look at him, “so please, let me help you.”

Adam stares into y/n’s maroon and green eyes. He then feels as if a big weight of pressure left his chest, he’s never been able to have a person understand him like this. Especially when they don’t really know who he is. Tears slowly form in his red eyes, as y/n pulls him in for a hug. Feeling the warmth in her body made him feel safe in a way, that he could trust her. That she can always help him when he needs it. He didn’t know the exact words for it, but all he knew is that he hadn’t felt this way ever since Eden.

Adam’s dream pov:

Both Adam and y/n had gotten back to the house, it was a nice trip back since Adam finally trusted her a whole lot more. Once they got back y/n gave Adam some lavender tea, sure he would rather drink a cup of literal vomit than tea but he was desperate to sleep soundly for once. Hell, he could even sleep in jeans if we wanted to.

Adam practically throws himself on the couch, immediately going to sleep as soon as his cheek hits the pillow. He dreams of nothing but a void of darkness, as others do, but in that void he sees a familiar face in it, carrying a beautiful light with it. As the light came closer, it transformed into something Adam can only described as beauty.

He wasn't sure who it was tho, he's seen many women in his life, but he couldn't poke out who it was, only little things.The way she laughed, felt like small bubbles popping in his head. and her teeth coming from her smile, like beams of light, peaking through clusters and clusters of trees. And her eyes, oh her gorgeous eyes, like two pearls shining against the sunlight. Whoever it was, was truly gorgeous. But who was it?

Lilith?

Eve?

Lute?

No, it can’t be

You just met her..

Y/n? ♡

#Spotify #hazbin hotel #adam hazbin x reader #Adam x reader #viziepop #idk #hazbin hotel adam #lol #x reader #Fanfic #adam hazbin hotel #jellywrites #dividers by dolly

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hatters-workshop · 5 months

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I'm seeing a lot of people crying about the new episode of Doctor Who being cringey.

Mate. It's Doctor Who. In its run it has featured grown adults, some of whom were award winning actors, lumbering around in bubble wrap and rubber, Tom Baker painted green with tooth picks sticking out of him and claiming he's a cactus, a robot dog shooting lasers out its nose and struggling to drive over carpet or door ways, sets that jiggled if you looked at them too hard, a walking red conker called Banakaffalatta, farting aliens from Raxacoricofallapitorious, the Master dancing to Scissor Sisters, the Doctor calling the Master's wife his beard, pepper pots with toilet plungers yelling exterminate and cybermen that are allergic to gold, and a fucking terrible puppet frog that is also a sentient universe.

Doctor Who has been cringey for as long as it's existed and it always will be. It's had bad dialogue moments and clunky scenes and awkward pacing and silly campness all along, there are episodes you will like and episodes you don't, but don't pretend the cringe is a bug and not a feature. It can be serious and it can be silly. It can be stupid banal shit one minute and it can be the best most emotionally gut punching thing you've ever seen the next. It can be both. Let it.

A trans character saying "erm why are you assuming that fluffy lump is a he?" Is nothing new. Guess what, the Third Doctor corrected Jo on an alien's pronouns in 1972 and no one got up in arms then. Rose being respected and loved by her family and being the linchpin to the storyline is not the worst thing you've ever dealt with with this show and if you think it is, guess what? That's a you problem.

#the star beast #doctor who #rose noble #donna noble #fourteenth doctor #rtd #rdt2

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mediocre-daydreams · 2 years

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peter parker x avenger!reader who can speak to flowers and plants, EXCEPT peter parker is oblivious to the way flowers just seem to grow at his feet and how daisies just lean towards him every time he smiles at r, and when r starts giving everyone in the compound flowers from their hand with a shimmering smile, peter can’t help but wonder why he hasn’t been given one yet, and why his heart seems to hurt when r spends a little bit too much time in thor’s arms.

— 🏄🏻‍♀️

ughhh this was such a cute, fluffy req and i ended up turning it into a mess of angst and insecurities and isabella madrigal but thank u 🏄🏻‍♀️ for sending this in! maybe i'll make some happier follow ups?

𝐝𝐚𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐞𝐬

peter parker x plant powered! reader

summary: you feel useless; you grow flowers while the other avengers fight battles. peter sees so much more in you, but it seems like you only have eyes for thor.

w/c: 3.0k

notes: gn! reader, angst w/ a happy ending, insecurities (feeling inadequate/reduced to looks/underestimated, etc.), jealous!peter, bestie!thor, flower symbolism that i spent a long time researching and i'm hoping it's accurate

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

being a superpowered avenger with a crush on another superpowered avenger while living in a multimillion-dollar compound that had its own walk-in ice cream fridge was pretty damn awesome. the only thing that could ruin the experience is if your aforementioned superpowers were absolutely useless and thus subject to constant (yet creative) mockery.

(hint: your aforementioned superpower was, in fact, stupid and ridiculed.)

“i feel stupid and ridiculed,” you huffed dejectedly. you and thor were sitting in front of a beautiful picnic spread complete with cucumber finger sandwiches and flasks of asgardian liquor.

“it is alright, midgardian. my brother, loki, is also stupid and ridiculed, but he is a god.” thor paused. “well, you are not a god, but you are—what is it that you little ones say these days? ah, you are W.”

you chuckled sadly, digging your toes into the soft tufts of grass that had sprouted when you’d laid down your picnic blanket. you were grateful for your gift, you really were, but compared to earth’s most powerful, dangerous, and influential people (and also aliens and gods), you were more like a glorified family pet.

“you contribute greatly to the avenging family,” thor reassured, placing one large hand on your shoulder with unintentionally strong force. you felt your body tilt under his strength. you sighed; you must’ve voiced your thoughts out loud.

“if by contribute, you mean reviving sam’s succulents every two months and supplying tony with emergency flower bouquets when he’s upset pepper, then yeah, i guess.”

“do not distress! you are also capable of growing poisonous mushrooms! my brother, loki, enjoys them. they are cute but deadly, like him. and you are sometimes an exterminator! the venus flytrap you gifted me remains in my asgardian throne room. it is very effective. i have not seen a single fly since.”

“that’s because there are no flies in asgard, thor.”

thor patted you on the back twice, forcing you to bend forward with each heavy-handed tap. you looked up at him, watching the man with long, golden hair and piercing eyes look down on you sympathetically. despite him being literally all-powerful and worthy of wielding a crazy magical thunder hammer, you had formed an unexpected bond with thor.

“you know, there was a time in my life when i was unsure of if i was worthy of mjolnir. i only played video games and drank asgardian hard lemonade. however, just because you may not see your worth at the moment does not mean it is not there. i was still as worthy and devilishly handsome. i just needed to shower.” thor looked up at the sky wistfully.

you smiled fondly, recalling the old pictures of thor with a beer belly and untamed beard. even when the team had poked fun at his ragged appearance, thor knew it was superficial and not a determinant of his character. the jokes were not a determinant of your worth or importance.

“thank you, thor.” your eyes crinkled and you blinked back your emotions, never having felt so understood. you looked shyly at your toes, admiring how the grass swayed and danced to the beat of your heart. “i never expected to relate to you so much.”

thor laughed heartily, slinging an arm around your shoulder and for the third time, crushing you with his inhuman strength. he pulled you close to his side, and for a moment, you let yourself enjoy the comforting pressure that grounded you.

unbeknownst to the two of you, a sneaky and jealous spider had come searching for you with a certain question in mind. peter knew how much you enjoyed spending days rooted in nature and connecting with your element, so after searching the compound, he figured you’d be in your favorite spot.

but when he reached the rolling bluff at the edge of the compound property, his heart sank at the sight of you and thor cuddled up on a romantic outdoor lunch. and when you pointed to something and giggled, followed by thor pressing a sweet kiss to your head, peter’s heart fully shattered. he left wordlessly, dropping the stop ‘n shop bouquet. it was pointless; you could grow your own flowers anyway.

“orange chrysanthemums,” you nodded towards the small patch you’d summoned, “for you. they symbolize friendship and clarity of mind. thank you, thor, for being here for me and allowing me to see my worth.”

thor gasped with childish delight. “the young spiderling bestowed upon me incredible knowledge the other day!” with deft fingers, thor plucked the flowers by their stems and wove them into a haphazard flower crown. “the five-minute crafts ‘tube film is truly revolutionary.”

“you’re a genius!” you squealed, jumping to your feet and giving thor a hug which ended up being you squishing his head into your torso. “how come i’ve never thought to make flower crowns before?”

the rest of the day was spent closer to the main compound grounds, lounging in the sun with thor as you flipped through a farmer’s almanac for flower meanings and growing them. thor proved to be a talented flower crown crafter, weaving intricate patterns and structures with flower steams and leafy vines. a couple of your teammates stopped to say hello, but nobody was particularly interested in your mindless, trivial afternoon activity. they had more pressing meetings and missions, after all.

“so,” tony said, walking around the counter to set down a luscious chocolate cake that he’d custom ordered on the dining table. “i know we just got back from a mission and two of our agents are in like, critical condition, but that’s booooring. let’s think halloween costumes,” tony announced, rubbing his hands together excitedly. “i was thinking the madrigal family; like, i’m obviously the house, since you’re all living on my compound and in my tower, etcetera… pepper can be pepa—duh—also because she’s always stressed… ooo, we could loop strange in and have him be bruno; plus, nobody likes him anyway so it fits…”

you and thor entered the dining room giggling maniacally, holding your completed flower crowns behind your back. thor was on his tippy toes, pretending to sneak around silently, as you tried (and failed) to stifle your chortles. when you came into view of the entire team sitting around the table with tony rambling about animated movies, the two of you silenced.

tony pointed at you excitedly. “perfect timing! you can be isabella, the one that’s really boring and makes all the eldest daughters cry because they relate to trying too hard but never being enough.” tony grinned proudly. “oh, and you both do the whole flowers thing, so that works.”

the air froze momentarily as you furrowed your brows, laughing breathily in disbelief. the table of avengers—tony, bruce, wanda, natasha, and steve—didn’t even notice. peter, lounging nearby, was the only one who seemed to have noticed your reaction.

“but has anyone watched she-ra?” wanda interjected. “i could totally see perfuma. she’s like this princess that… talks to plants or something.”

bruce raised a finger as if he’d just had a eureka moment. “snow white! doesn’t she grow flowers?”

natasha slapped her forehead. “she picks flowers to distract her from the executioner sent by the evil queen, duh.”

as natasha and bruce bickered about the magical limits of the snow white universe and wanda and steve argued over the coolest character in she-ra, peter just sat there, disengaged in conversation, watching as thor bent down to whisper something in your ear. you nodded, moving away from him, and peter jumped from his seat at the opportunity to catch you alone.

you caught peter’s eye and he smiled nervously at you, wondering if you intended to approach him first. instead, you ungracefully scrubbed at your eyes with your arm, presumably to wipe away tears, and then ran off, the sound of your footsteps bouncing off the empty hallway.

peter shuffled uncomfortably. the person he liked took one look at him, started crying, and then literally ran away from him. way to go, romeo.

“what happened to flower power?” tony stopped his brainstorming at the sound of a sob followed by the meek closing of a door. “are they like, okay?”

“they didn’t even stay for cake,” steve worried. “and it’s chocolate.”

peter cracked his knuckles, a habit he’d picked up whenever he was anxious. he opened his mouth to speak but was interrupted by another barrage of theories.

“maybe they were weeding the lawn and got tired?”

“nah, we have a robotic gardner for that-”

“did sam land in one of the flowerbeds again?”

“sam’s not even here right now-”

“stung by a bee?”

“foot run over by a tractor?”

“found a corpse in the fertilizer-”

“ENOUGH!” thor boomed, his usual joviality turned into fuming eyes and deep, angry breaths. “you midgardians are pathetically shallow-minded and incompetent. was it not evident that your hapless conversation was—how do you midgardians say it—creating uncomfortable energy in the studio?”

the table of avengers looked at thor, confused.

thor moved his hands from behind his back and displayed them. on his arms hung the flower crowns you and thor had spent all afternoon creating. thor carefully laid them on the table, smoothing out any wrinkles in the petals and fluffing the leaves.

“in asgard, we revere nature and its gifts. flowers, plants, trees: they are sacred. we could not breathe, nor eat, nor survive or exist without greenery—without powers like theirs. you foolish midgardians… have you not considered the unlimited power that your superfriend wields? the power of life, creation, and growth. to manipulate the natural land, which is what holds up this very building and the entirety of human creation.” thor sighed, shaking his head like he was scolding a classroom of silly kindergarteners.

thor pointed to the flower crowns, distributing them to the person they were meant for.

“for tony: dark, blood orange tiger lilies and golden yellow jasmines to represent wealth, pride, and elegance”

“for bruce: a circlet of green to celebrate the part of him that he tries to hide. green hellebore and envy zinnia, symbolizing peace, serenity, and endurance.

“for wanda: a crown of purple, made of verbena, crocus, and clematis. to attract butterflies and honor her youthfulness, creativity, and limitless capability.

“for natasha: white and yellow, because she deserves softness; chamomile for her patience in adversity, black-eyed susans for her sense of justice, and edelweiss, for her courage and devotion.”

there was only one more crown on the table, but two avengers left. red, white, and blue flowers—it was clearly meant for steve.

“they put their heart into these, and for steve especially. bluebell, for his humility. white gladiolus, for his integrity and strength. finally, red nasturtium, which they spent hours searching for, to represent his victory and patriotism.”

thor watched as each avenger admired their respective crown before noticing peter, hands empty, standing in the corner looking despondent. thor bit back a knowing smile, approached the frowning boy, and beckoned him closer. peter grimaced as he caught sight of thor’s subtle amusement, scoffing bitterly. was the god here to rub it in further; that he’d won over the object of peter’s affection who he’d been pining over for months?

“they are in their room,” thor whispered loudly. “they will probably want to see you, small and short arachnid child.”

peter elected not to ignore thor’s passive-aggressive insults and nodded determinedly, making his way to your door with his mind racing. thor had said you’d wanted to see him, yet you’d barely acknowledged him and hadn’t bothered making him a crown. he’d be fine with sticks hot glued together, if it meant you’d thought of him. which, he supposed, you hadn’t.

he didn’t get the chance to knock before your door swung open and you waved him inside. “sorry i got all dramatic back there,” you sniffed. “i didn’t mean to ruin the moment.”

“what? you didn’t- no, what everyone was saying was just… wrong. cruel. you’re- well, you’re incredible.” peter cracked his knuckles, the bones popping loudly and drawing your attention. he shook his hands out and looked at you bashfully. “sorry. nervous habit.”

“don’t be nervous,” you smiled sadly. “i’m harmless. literally.”

“y’know, thor showed us those crowns you made. i thought they were really cool, really beautiful.” peter hesitated. “beautiful like you. a-and i don’t want to push anything, ‘cause i know you’re upset and stuff, but i just… thought you should know.”

you clicked your tongue against the roof of your mouth and let out a dark chuckle. “yeah, they are quite pretty. thanks for saying that. i get it a lot, but it’s nice to hear it from- from you.”

“i hope you know that beauty isn’t all there is to you. you’re thoughtful—thor explained all the meanings behind the flowers and you even matched the colors up for everyone… you’re crazy smart—you read a farmer’s almanac and i don’t know anyone as good as biology as you; i suck at bio. and you’re really, really strong.”

you looked up at peter, bewildered.

peter’s face fell when he saw your expression of confusion. how could you not see your own power and endurance? timidly, he stepped forward until his chest was a foot from yours and brought his hand up to straighten your tightened eyebrows.

“don’t look at me like that. don’t look at me like you can’t comprehend your own capability.” peter’s thumb traced down your face—starting at your eyebrows, down to your eyes, where he wiped the remnants of your tears, gently circling over the curves of your cheeks, down to your jawline and trailing to your chin, where he took it between two fingers and tilted your face upwards so he could admire you properly.

“the rest of the team might make jokes, but they’re being close-minded. they talked about isabella, right? well, she grew these stems that encircled the entire house; so strong that they could carry both her and mirabel and it was like they were flying, y’know? a-and perfuma was like, a warrior princess that could choke people out with her vines and whipped them unconscious and could stab people with thorns—i’m kidding, it’s a kid’s animated series. but you get the point. there are possibilities, and just because you can create beautiful, delicate masterpieces doesn’t mean you’re shallow and fragile.”

as peter rambled, you had to bite your lip to stop the beam that was fighting to escape. you wanted him to talk forever, and you were scared that if you looked like you felt better, he’d stop with his words. admittedly, you loved the praise. but you loved the sound of peter’s voice and his loving caress and the way he seemed to believe in you—maybe even more so than yourself.

“peter,” you whispered hoarsely, letting yourself smile. “thank you, peter.”

peter swallowed thickly, having not thought ahead to what would happen after he spilled his guts out about his admiration of you. “uh, you’re welcome?” his voice cracked embarrassingly.

you gave no reaction. instead, your eyes seemed to soften. “i’m sorry i didn’t make a crown for you. i didn’t mean for it to seem like- like i didn’t care.”

peter’s eyes flickered across your face, looking for any sign of a lie. he didn’t want you to reassure you out of pity or because you felt obligated to after he’d complimented you. he cracked his knuckles, feeling the confidence he’d exuded a minute ago begin to die.

you grabbed his hands and forced his fingers to unclench from his palms, your own fingers running over his skin. your fingers were calloused from the time you spent outdoors, tending to your variety of plants, and it only heightened his belief that you were more than just pretty, that you were just as durable and strong.

“i didn’t know what flowers to use,” you said lowly, unable to meet his eye. “‘cause red roses are cliché; well, roses in general, and tulips and lilies have been overused, and baby’s breath seemed kind of bridesmaid-y, and- and carnations remind me of mother’s day, and you’re not my mother, so i just-”

“hey, it’s okay,” peter reassured. “i won’t lie, i was worried at first. i thought you just completely forgot about me, which is ouch. but it means a lot that you cared… so much.”

you squeezed his hands tighter. peter felt something tickle the fleshy inside of his palms and looked down curiously. slowly, your hands moved away from his and he watched in amazement as little buds began sprouting from your hands and falling as they made their way into full bloom.

daisies and their stray petals littered the floor beneath him, and peter tried his best not to move in fear of crushing one of the flowers. you looked equally surprised, but quickly caught your bearings, and when peter looked back up at you, you were holding a little bouquet of misshapen, droopy daises with a shy smile.

“so you don’t crack your knuckles,” you explained. “and because they represent new beginnings and, um, true love.”

peter’s face contorted as he took the flowers from you, fingers brushing over yours. you examined peter’s expression intensely, heartbeat skipping as you followed the way his face seemed to twist and morph into something similar to disgust.

but when peter held the daisies up to his nose and made a big show of smelling them, bringing them down from his face to reveal a huge, bright grin, you allowed yourself to indulge in one of your own.

“i take it you like it?” you muttered, shuffling closer as petals shifted beneath your shoes.

peter nodded, wrapping the arm that held his flowers around your back to pull you even closer. it was like you could feel the warmth emanating off him. he was like sun.

“i like it a lot. not as much as i like you, though.”

“i gave you a gift, didn’t i?” you breathed, eyes bright with anticipation. “do i get anything in return?”

peter hummed. “well, what would you like?”

you rolled your eyes at his game. “surprise me.”

neither of you was surprised when your lips met, initially brushing against each other like hesitant spring sprouts, before exploding into colorful, passionate blooms.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

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#peter parker x you #peter parker x reader #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x avenger! reader #peter parker x avenger!reader #peter parker angst #peter parker x reader angst #peter parker x you angst #peter parker x enhanced! reader #marvel enhanced!reader #peter parker x gn!reader #marvel x gn reader #peter parker x gn reader

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