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#sorry for posting like 1 colouring a month they just take me so long to do :( but I'm working on them
upperranktwo · 2 years
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☆Anya Forger | Telepath☆
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thebearchives · 2 years
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slow days in monaco | PG10
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PAIRING: pierre gasly x single mom!reader
REQUESTED: [] yes [X] no
WORD COUNT: 2.2k
SYNOPSIS: a slow day in monaco is like a bad omen, or so you were told. what happens when formula 1 drivers pierre gasly and charles leclerc enter the café you work at and spark up a conversation with your son?
WARNINGS: fluff, son has a name (thomas), reader can speak both french and english (translations are included), probably more interactions between pierre and the kid (sorry, not sorry. I'm a sucker for guys interacting with kids)
A/N: hello, hello!! first post alert!!! i hope you guys enjoy what i came up with during my dad!pierre brainrot. please don’t be a ghost reader! i love getting feedback, even if it’s just a small comment :)
( originally, this was supposed to be a series, and i’m more than willing to write more parts to this, but i’m not entirely sure if that’s what people want. that being said, send me a message if you'd like another part and I'll see what i can do! )
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although there never truly was such thing as a slow and quiet day in a coffee shop in monte carlo, the mornings were just a little bit more mellow after the start of the formula 1 summer break. or at least they were to you.
this was your first year working at le pain d'amour, a bakery and coffee shop popular with tourists and natives alike, so you didn’t have much to go off of. you had started working there a couple of months prior to the monaco grand prix, and even three months later, you were still recovering from the weeklong madness. 
long gone were the mornings where you made coffee for f1 enthusiasts and team members alike. now, your mornings were spent serving tourists looking for a good instagram-worthy latte, and suit-clad men complaining about their early mornings and lack of vacation days.
unlike other days, today felt like your longest morning shift yet; halfway into your five-hour shift, with only about five customers sitting inside the cafe. ‘a slow day in monaco is like a bad omen,’ your coworker had said. to you, it just felt like torture.
another hour passed, the five customers long gone, now replaced with three individuals who sat scattered around the shop, all busy with their own devices. the bells above the front door chimed announcing the entrance of two men. with the way the two men loudly chattered in french, you doubted the need for the bells in the first place.
you moved from your spot leaning against the counter to the front cash register. your coworker, michelle, had stepped out not too long ago for her break, leaving the cafe in your very capable hands.
“bonjour! welcome to le pain d'amour, i can take your order whenever you guys are ready!” you channelled your best customer service voice and looked up. the smile you slapped onto your face faltered slightly when you realized the faces of the two men standing across from you.
there in front of you stood f1 drivers, charles leclerc and pierre gasly.
you snapped back into reality when charles opened his mouth, “bonjour! can i just get an iced coffee and a croissant sandwich?”
you nodded as you entered his order into the system, “and for you?”
your question was directed to pierre, who had been gazing at the (h/c)-haired boy sitting on one of the stools near the counter. his head snapped back to you, a smile following as he looked over your head at the menu. a quick apology left his lips as he requested some more time, before opting to get the same as his friend but with a cookie as well.
as you turned to make their orders, telling the men to take a seat wherever and that you would call them up whenever their order was ready, you missed pierre gesturing towards the young boy, pulling charles up to sit on the stools near the kid. the alpha tauri driver couldn’t help but miss his nephew as he watched the young boy colour his page with great focus.
the quiet clicks of keys, and the music playing over the speakers was now overshadowed by the aggressive sounds of a crayon scraping against paper and the sound of the two drivers chattering in french. although loud enough for others to hear them, the speed at which the two men spoke made it hard to understand what they were saying.
“maman, regardez ça.” mom, look at this.
you drew your eyes from the espresso machine to the five-year-old, thomas, and the paper held up in his hand. you absorbed the shapes and lines on the paper before looking at the boy who was smiling widely.
“devinez ce que c'est!” guess what it is!
his energy was palpable, no thanks to the three hours he had spent sleeping on the couch in the backroom while you worked outside. you looked back at the machine, noticing the coffee just barely starting to stream. 
you decided to entertain the boy, “hmm,” you furrowed your eyebrows in fake confusion, “est-ce un chien?” is it a dog?
“what?!” he gaped at you, “not even close! réessayer.” try again.
you giggled at the young boy’s exasperated face, “désolé, mon petit. je dois retourner au travail.” sorry, my child. i have to get back to work.
if it wasn’t for sanitary reasons, you would have reached over and ruffled his hair to get him to smile. instead, you resorted to calling out to him again, “stop pouting, amour.”
thomas grumbled, a mess of both french and english, albeit both sloppy, escaping his small lips.
a voice broke his muttering, “puis-je deviner?” can i guess?
both you and the boy looked over to where pierre sat, a small smile gracing his lips. you looked back at the young boy, eyes wide open and jaw slacked. 
you huffed a small laugh, “tommy, ferme ta bouche.” close your mouth.
thomas sat up straight, “you’re in f1!”
he turned to look at you, “maman!! driver! un pilote de course!” a racing driver!
it was endearing, listening to him exclaim in both french and english. you, yourself, had been raised in a bilingual household, with your father being a native english speaker, who met your monégasque mother on his summer vacation. you grew up in a household where both english and french were spoken in tandem, and now, with your own son, you couldn’t help but raise him the same way. 
you turned back to finish making the drinks that said driver had ordered, “oui, and he asked you something. sois poli et réponds-lui.” yes…be nice and answer him.
tommy’s eyes grew wide again and he turned back to the driver next to him, “pouvez-vous répéter votre question?” can you repeat your question?
pierre pointed to the drawing, repeating his question in english this time, “can i guess what you drew?”
thomas looked down at his drawing. an attempt at copying the foam art you had done on his long-empty cup of hot chocolate.
he looked back at you for guidance, gesturing you to come closer to him with his hand. you placed the sandwiches and coffees in front of the drivers, smiling apologetically to pierre for your son’s blatant avoidance of his question. 
“i’ll get you your cookie in just a minute,” you stated, to which he responded, “pas d'inquiétude.” no worries.
as you neared the cookie display, and thomas, he reached up and whispered into your ear, “what if he thinks my drawing is really bad?”
you looked down at the boy, a small smile gracing your lips, “i’m sure he’ll think you’re very talented, and if he doesn’t…” you trailed off as you placed the cookie onto a plate. 
after placing the cookie in front of pierre, you leaned down to whisper in your son’s ear, “i’ll fight him.”
thomas giggled, moving away from you to push his drawing in front of the driver, “maman said if you think i’m a bad drawer, she will fight you.”
charles’ chortle was loud, turning into a series of coughs as he choked on his coffee. you gasped quietly, quickly turning away from the three to avoid pierre’s amused gaze and get charles a tissue, to which he nodded with a red face, eyes watering. you began cleaning your station, ears not having to strain to hear the conversation going on behind you.
as charles’ coughs died down, pierre sighed, “well, we wouldn’t want that now, would we?”
after a small sip of his own coffee, he continues, “is this a cup?”
you couldn’t see it but pierre was pointing to a spot on the drawing. 
thomas nodded excitedly, “mhm! c'est une tasse comme celle-là.”
the five-year-old pointed to the large array of coffee cups and mugs just to the left of where you stood.
pierre nodded, “is this design on top one of those foam…” he trailed off forgetting the words.
charles piped up from his spot, “latte form art?”
again, thomas nodded fast, “yes! but maman says i can’t have coffee so she makes me it on hot chocolate!”
both charles and pierre nodded at his words, “your mother is very smart, then.”
you turned around just in time to catch thomas nodding super fast, cheeks turning red at the compliment. 
pierre took a bite out of his sandwich and charles decided to reach out and make conversation with the kid, “what’s your name, buddy?”
“thomas! with an h,” he started, going on a ramble about his classmate who also shared the same name, but without the h. 
your attention got pulled from the conversation as you heard the bell chime again. this time, however, it was your coworker coming back from her break, keeping the door open for the person who was leaving the shop.
michelle smiled at you with a wave, tapping on her wrist as if to indicate the time. you looked at your own wrist, eyes widening to realize your shift was due to end in about 10 minutes. as slow as your shift had started, in the presence of the two drivers, you couldn’t help but be amazed at how fast time had passed.
there wasn’t much for you to do, waiting for the time to pass. as thomas continued chatting up the two f1 drivers, you made rounds around the tables placed in the shop, cleaning up any messes left behind.
with thomas and pierre’s loud voices filling up the air, it wasn’t long before michelle pulled you by your arm, eyes widened at the sight of the two very famous men sitting next to your son. her inquisitive look made you laugh quietly, explaining that they had come in not too long ago and had already ordered, and finished most of their food by the looks of it.
the ten minutes went by quickly, and you found yourself apologetically disrupting the very important conversation between thomas, charles, and pierre about whether or not a velociraptor could outrun charles in his ferrari. (charles: “velociraptors cannot run as fast as a racecar.” pierre, smacking his hand on the table: “you can’t believe everything you read on the internet!” thomas: “yeah! raptors are fast!”)
you smoothed out thomas’ hair, “hey, mon petit chou. i’m gonna go get our stuff from the back so we can get ready to go, okay? why don’t you start wrapping up the conversation?”
you left before charles could ask for your opinion on the matter, not wanting to face the wrath of either side if you defended the other.
by the time you made it back out, thomas was sitting on his stool, hunched over a piece of paper, a red pencil crayon held tightly in his hand as he drew something. the plate with pierre’s cookie now sat next to the boy, small teeth marks indicating that instead of the man who had ordered the cookie, the young boy was the one eating it.
pierre, noticing your return, smiled sheepishly as if embarrassed. whether it was for not ensuring your son had packed up before you came back, or for the fact that he got caught giving your son a cookie, you weren’t sure.
 “sorry, he said he wanted to draw something for us,” pierre started, his eyes catching the movement of thomas taking another bite of the cookie before darting back to your amused face, “and sorry for the cookie, i always intended on giving it to him, but i realize now i should have probably asked before if he could have one.”
you smiled at him, “don’t worry about it, either of the things. the cookies are by far his favourite item on the menu and he’s not had one yet, so no harm done.”
charles leaned over from his spot, pushing against pierre, “so, do you think i could beat a velocirapt-”
pierre’s groan cut him off, “fermez-la déjà.” shut up already.
charles poked pierre with his elbow, “no, you,” before he turned back to you, “google says raptors only travel about 40 km/h…”
you laughed, “i’m afraid i cannot give my answer without risking my life,” you gestured your head towards the boy still colouring, now with a blue pencil in his hand instead.
“i think that gave your answer perfectly.” though his words were directed to you, charles couldn’t help but stare at pierre, a cocky smirk planted on his lips.
before pierre could retort, thomas sat up eagerly, “j'ai fini!” i'm done!
he pushed the piece of paper into the middle of the counter, right in front of pierre. looking over thomas’ head, you couldn’t help but smile at the picture he drew.
two racecars, one red and one speckled with blue, the numbers 16 and 10 drawn on either car respectively. in between the two racecars stood four people. three squares bodies and one triangle, three boys and one girl. as thomas pointed at each aspect of his drawing including the people, not that any of them needed any supporting description, you couldn’t help but smile at the fact that the triangle stick figure was connected at the hand to the smallest square figure. you and thomas, holding hands.
after pierre and charles thanked thomas profusely, you helped him hop off the stool. you turned to look at the two drivers one last time, “thank you for keeping him entertained today, you really didn’t have to.”
“nonsense, he’s a good kid.” charles smiled, pierre nodding at his words, “hopefully, we’ll see you both again.”
you smiled, “well, i’m here nearly every morning, so y’know.”
you helped thomas put his backpack on, “have a good summer break, both of you. hope the rest of the season treats you two well!”
the racecar drivers smiled, waving bye to both of you as you walked towards the door. before stepping foot outside, however, thomas turned around.
 “maman’s number is written on the back! bye!”
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A/N: second part is now posted!! read lonely nights in monaco here!!
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choccy-milky · 6 days
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Hello there!
I've been a huge fan of your art of Seb and Clora here on Tumblr for quite some time now. Maybe a year? Idk time is weird aksbjs. Anyway, I'm an artist myself, and I was just wondering, put simply, whats your art process? Like how you shade and color and stuff.
Anyway, have a nice day! And uh- sorry if this is awkward sksbdn.
DAMN youve basically been here since day 1 THANK YOUU😭 im glad you like my stuff!! and ur not awkward at all!!🥹💖💖 and i actually posted a timelapse of my process on twitter not that long ago, so ill post it here as well!
as you can see seb takes me the longest LMAOO hes such a menace for me to draw still...and i dont even think seeing my process helps since its just so much trial and error and warping until it looks right BAHAHA (this is from like a month ago and i ALREADY think seb looks off here too 💀) but my process is super simple, i just colour and cell shade on multiply and then i add a grain texture on soft light 10% at the end. i dont rly do anything fancy for colouring, bc i used to over-render my art and make it really complicated, but now im a fan of just having it look kinda...flat? if that makes sense LOL. i like it aesthetically AND its also easier. OH also something i add to the end of almost all my pieces is this auto-action from clip studio assets which basically adjusts the hue/saturation/brightness. here's an example of what the original flat colours look like vs. when i add this filter:
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even if you dont have clip studio the same effect could be achieved with just manually tweaking with the hue/saturation levels afterwards, but i like this filter just cuz its easy and makes the colours more how i like them HOPE THIS HELPS💖💖
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dreadnotau · 6 months
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Its been a decent couple of months of productive work, so it's sadly time for a schedule change. I'll be posting pages two weeks apart again. Details provided below if you're curious as to why.
In all honesty there's no big dramatic reason this time around. I've just slowly lost drive to work on Dread Not as often and as thoroughly as I used to be able to. As I said in one of my previous posts (that sounded suspiciously like this one), I want to focus on other projects as well. One of those is my personal art blog, which I've neglected even though I've had art on the backburner that I've been meaning to post for AGES. Kingdomrune is another one of those, where I have shit I could post that I just... never did. Dread Not takes a lot of time and I miss being able to dedicate that time to consuming media instead of just grinding and trying to produce my own. One of the most important things to do as an artist is to broaden your horizons and take in as much art as you can, to diversify and expand what you know and what you can make. But, when all day every day I'm just sitting and drawing my own thing, it's like I have tunnel vision and my creative resources run dry. It's starting to feel weirdly soulless on my end, because I don't feel nearly half the inspiration to make the pages as I did when the big hiatus ended. It's all dependent on time and exposure, and I can only crunch for so long before it starts to feel damaging to me instead of fun and creatively fulfilling.
So what does this mean, practically speaking? Well, for one, I'm spacing out the page upload for the rest of Act 1, as previously mentioned. I'm well aware this will kill the pacing and it'll drag out longer than it theoretically needs to, but I'd even rather that than trying to rush out a page in the Two Days I have free this week (yeah, ONLY two days free out of the ENTIRE week. Don't ask me why it's not even my fuckin' fault this time). If pages become even more scarce than 1 page per 2 weeks, blame it on college. I'm getting new subjects and I don't even know the class schedule yet. Concerning Act 2 though, I'll be changing the structure of the pages from their core. I'll be switching to a different drawing software (probably Krita, suck my dick Photoshop) so it'll take some getting used to. I can't even promise bonus content or anything during the necessary break between acts because of that shift in software happening, I've never done a massive technical move like this. However, it'll allow me to, not only work on Dread Not better, but expand my art overall, so it's definitely worth it. I've wanted to get into animation for YEARS and Krita seems like an okay place to start (the gif on this post WAS made with Photoshop, but shitty gifs are about all I can make as animations in Photoshop). Act 2's style will, predictably, differ heavily from Act 1 and (with how long writing the dialogue alone for it is taking), it might end up being Longer than Act 1, too. Visually, it'll probably be something like cleaned up and coloured sketches, with simpler colour palettes and simpler (big airquotes) visuals overall, and it'll speed up the process and possibly allow me to post more than one page at a time. Possibly. That's not a promise.
I'm sorry if that's disappointing to anyone, but I physically can't make myself continue the current artstyle across all acts. It's just not feasible.
For those curious about the FARTHER future of Dread Not, I have plans to turn Act 3 into a series of fics rather than full comic pages, and something maybe a bit more insane for Act 4. I don't have everything figured out yet, and I don't want to make any false promises or give any grand ideas I won't be able to commit to, since only time will tell how my creativity will flow years from now. If you all want more content from me specifically, again I'm planning on reviving my art tumblr like a half buried zombie, and you'll probably see more there than you bargained for once I actually get into the habit of posting things. If you're mayhaps interested in my original stuff, keep your eyes peeled for a guy called Duro, I might start posting about him some time soon.
As always, thank you for your patience, and apologies again if this news was disappointing to anyone. I'm just one guy and this comic is a titan of biblical proportions. I'll keep you all posted on any further developments and plans for the future! Stay tuned!
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iamacolor · 3 months
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2023 sewing projects - part 2 details at the end of the post (click here for part 1)
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Note: I work for a fabric shop so I get most of my fabrics fabric for free as well as some patterns as I have to be wearing our products at work (I definitely consider it a perk). Without this job I would not be sewing as much and I'd probably be buying most of my fabric second hand or on sale as I used to do before. I also sometimes sew during work hours so keep that in mind if you're also a sewist, go at your own rythm 💜 Although I have basic training in pattern drafting I prefer to sew from pre-existing patterns to save on time (as i have to regularly make myself some new clothes for work) and discover new techniques and styles - but I often change stuffs to adapt the designs to my style.
1 - same pants as in part 1 but this time in a double wool crepe from italy (i found it in a charity shop and the border says so in italian - it's absolutely gorgeous, i found 3 pieces of it at once for like 10 € each. I made a dress in the first piece, then these pants in the second)
2 - dream dress in a coton double gauze - the gingham is sized differently on each side of the fabric so i had fun deciding where to put which but i had less fun gathering all of that fabric (the nice thing is it's super light and i get a lot of compliments on it) - the pattern has a short sleeves version that i'd like to make for this summer
3 - a simple tee made in ribbing fabric (usually used for the collar and wrist pieces on sweater) - the pants were made last year but they're the same pattern as the pink ones in part 1, just the slim leg version!
4 - another super quick make in a modal fabric (it's so soft and nice to work with), the last one i made in june before my tendinitis stopped me from touching my machine for a couple of months (and tbh i maybe shouldn't have made this one lol)
5 - first project back on the sewing machine during the summer holidays, very quick one in the remnants of the linen-viscose blend i used to make the matching set in part 1 (can you tell i love this fabric and this colour?)
6 - a mini retro skirt in coton gabardine - the skirt was made to be short and as i'm taller than the average height used in patterns i lengthened it but almost not enough as i ended up having to do a single fold of 1cm to hem the bottom instead of the usual 1 + 2/3 lol
7 - ok so this one...i went in with no pattern and not much thoughts tbh i took this striped fabric and decided to turn thop of the piece into a plain colour by folding it repeatedly so that the folds would reveal the secondary colour by opening - it was super long to make especially because i just cut straight on the side instead of taking into account the fact that I am very much not straight from the waist down to the hips so i had to do a little fixing on the side seams once all the folding and assembling was done before i could put in the zipper. I was very proud of this skirt when I finished it but I've only worn it twice since then (september lol) because it's absolutely awful to iron it (and although i stitched every single fold on one side i still have to press them all one by one)
8 - these curtains are made in a wax fabric given to me by my grandmother who got it from a church friend who brought it from her homecountry in Africa (can't remember where that is, sorry) - they're lined in a dark navy coton so they can be more occulting (the same used at the bottom for the ruffles as the piece of fabric was too small for my curtains to go all the way down). I did this project in an evening so the inside finishes are very rough and i didn't even iron them but i was hellbent on finishing them on the day I started (after months of just having the fabric draped over the window as a makeshift curtain) - it doesn't show too well on the pictures but the darker yellow is actually gold!
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burnt-wat3r · 2 years
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GREGORY OF YARDALE X READER HEADCANONS
Part 1 ➛ Part 2
Word Count: 605 
TW: None
All characters mentioned are aged up
➛Gregory’s family is quite wealthy, and he makes quite a lot of money from his missions with La Resistance, so he loves to spoil you
➛ He loves to give you flowers, and you’d get a beautiful bouquet every other day with a romantic note attached in beautiful cursive handwriting
➛ Though sometimes he forgets not everyone has a 4.0-grade average, and you have to ask others what he was trying to convey
"Hey, Kyle?" You look over to your desk partner.
"Hm? Yeah, what’s up?"
You glance back down to the letter, "Whats bewitching mean?" 
"Bewitching? Oh, it means like pretty."
Your eyes widen, "Oh! So he wasn't calling me a witch?"
➛ He would leave the notes in different places each time, sometimes your locker, school desk, or even your doorstep!
➛ If you do give him gifts in return, he’d keep them displayed on his shelf, or even in his pocket so he would have a memento of you while away on missions for La Resistance
➛ Proper British boy, will constantly be correcting you every time you spell colour without the 'u' 
➛ Gregory’s such a gentleman, he’d open doors for you, pull out your chair,  anything for you!
"Wait, y/n!" Gregory blocks you with his hand.
You stop in your tracks, "What is it?"
His eyebrows furrow, "There’s a puddle in front of us." 
You look down, "...so?"
"I refuse to get our shoes wet."
 He takes off his jacket, placing it on top of the damp ground below.
"Now we may walk ;)"
"Greg!"
➛You lent him your jacket because he got cold (-.-)
➛ Gregory believes he has the best of styles, often discretely flaunting his brand name clothing items
➛ He would often leave out his jackets or gloves for you to wear, or even buy you new closets outfits completely
“Gregory, what’s this?” You ask, gesturing towards your dresser.
He looks up from his book, glancing from you to the shopping bag on your dresser. “New clothes, I saw you looking at them during our visit to the mall yesterday.”
“I was... but you didn’t have to buy them for me!” 
“You like them though, do you not?” He looks at you, confused
“I do, but, you still didn’t have to!”
He smirks, “Of course I didn’t have to, though I did.” He flips the page of his book 
“I- but- you- ...Thanks.”
➛ No matter how tall you may be, Gregory always manages to one-up you, wearing those fancy high heel boots to be taller
➛ He definitely takes his height to his advantage, kissing and patting the top of your head
➛ Gregory's typically great at keeping his cool to whatever display of affection you may put on
➛He's just hoping nobody notices the blush on his cheeks
➛Especially if its in front of his friends
You see Gregory in the distance able to recognize that blond hair anywhere. He talks with broad gestures, while his colleague stands with his arms crossed, and a cigarette hanging out of his mouth.
“Gregory!” You run up and hug him from behind, almost causing him to lose his balance.
“Y/n!” he looks down at you, a flustered smile plastered on his blushing face.
“Just wanted to say hi ;D” You smile back, enjoying how red his face got from the action.
You hear a snort in front of Gregory, seeing his comrade blocking his smile with his fist, shaking slightly at the sight of his uptight partner getting so flustered.
“Mole! This isn’t funny!” Gregory shouts, causing Ze Mole to shake even harder with laughter.
A/N: OMG I DIDN’T REALISE I WROTE FOUR PAGES WORTH OF HEADCANONS JKSDHFNNJCVKSU
anyways imma spread them out into separate parts, and hopefully post them throughout the week (ngl I’m scared if they’re too long nobody will read them)
I’ve actually had these written up for 3 months now, I’ve just been procrastinating posting this, sorry sorry, anyways, hope you all enjoyed my first post!
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paperstorm · 1 year
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Hello! I love following your stories and your posts. You always have such an interesting take on things!
I have a question that maybe controversial (that's why I'm on anon), so feel free to ignore this if you don't feel upto it.
I'm a cis, straight woman of relative economic privilege in a very traditional, conservative country. Which is to say, all of my interactions with and information about the LGBTQ+ community are from the internet. This sometimes is an issue because I end up learning the wrong things, where I think I'm being an ally but I'm just thinking things that are problematic in different ways.
I write a bit of fanfiction for other fandoms and I really enjoy watching 9-1-1LS. I have story ideas for Tarlos, but I'm not sure about the ethics of someone like me writing about a queer couple. Is it okay for me to do that? Or is it more respectful to just read and listen and learn? In case it's fine to write it, never having actually witnessed a queer couple's relationship, how do I write realistically without perpetuating problematic tropes that I've seen in Hollywood/TV/other fics?
(This might get long, I’m sorry followers, one day I’ll learn to shut up but not today and not about this)
I want to start by saying that ‘own voices’ started out as a good thing. It started with the purpose of allowing marginalized communities the space to tell their own stories, rather than prioritizing a white man pretending he knows what racism feels like when he doesn’t. It had really good intentions, and it’s still important to amplify the voices of people who are speaking from direct experience.
But because social media spaces are literally never capable of nuance, it pretty quickly turned into ‘you aren’t allowed to write or talk about things that you don’t have direct experience with’ and this is where it became a really harmful mentality. It has led to things like celebrities being forcibly outed (off the top of my head – Lee Pace, Kit Connor, Casey McQuiston, and Jameela Jamil, but I’m positive there are others) because the internet mob said ‘you can’t portray/write about queer characters if you aren’t queer! Publicly perform your sexuality for us or ELSE!’. On a much smaller scale, it led to me not including characters of colour in my stories for years, because tumblr and twitter told me I wasn’t allowed to.
These are not positive things. I saw a post once, years ago, that said something like ‘yes it’s important for POC to get to see characters who look like them as the hero of the story, but it’s equally important for people to see characters who don’t look like them as the hero of the story, because that’s how you learn empathy for people who are different than you’ and that has really stuck with me. It was not good that a teenager was forced to come out before he was ready a few months ago because twitter told him he was queerbaiting by just existing and living his life. It was not good that I went years excluding characters of colour from my stories. It was not good that I never tried to get into the headspace of someone like Sam Wilson or Nile Freeman or Yusuf al-Kaysani or Carlos Reyes or Marjan Marwani. We develop intense empathy for people who have vastly different experiences than us when we care about their lives and their stories and their struggles.
I showed this ask to my best friend who is also queer and he made a lot of good points in a series of very passionate texts but among them are these:
I would rather someone be open and wanting to explore a new community, perhaps occasionally stumbling over the wrong thing, but learning rather then sitting on the sideline like some kid outside of a candy store window.
I’m not interested in allies who are silent. Who haven’t put themselves in my shoes. Who don’t adore the parts of our community the way I do. I don’t give a FUCK about people who are just going to sit there and say “it’s not my place to speak/participate.” I want my allies in the thick of it. I want them saying I stand with you, vocally and I’ll only sit when you sit.
Quit making people treat marginalized groups like exclusive clubs. Everyone is welcome in my gay house
I know my family loves me because they are my family and I am of them. I need to know the rest of the world is going to let me in, too. I need to know that some successful author who has absolutely no stake in the game ALSO sees value in a queer voice in their story. I need to know I have a place in the world BEYOND the people who are accepting of me because they are like me.
So. All of this is a very long-winded way of saying please please PLEASE write and love and care about queer characters even if you, yourself are not queer. If you’re worried about getting something wrong or unintentionally writing something that is offensive, ask a queer person if they would be a sensitivity reader for your story before you post it. And be willing to accept the criticism if a person comes to you after and says ‘hey this was offensive’ (while also understanding that one queer person or one POC does not speak for the entire community, and that the concept of offense gets incredibly complicated sometimes). But write it. It is a wonderful, necessary thing when people care about communities that they are not a part of. In the immortal words of Mr. Bernie Sanders, when then question “Are you willing to fight for someone you don’t know?” is asked, the world gets infinitely better when the answer is yes.
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Note
Good morning (here),
I wanted to stop by and say Hi! How is life treating you? It looks like a busy few weeks for you. I saw the progress on the sweaters you are making. They look so cozy. Is it still sweater weather there? It is a sunny day here. (still sweater weather)
I'm enjoying Sunday morning tea. Getting ready for my second one. It was a very busy weekend to come back. I'm catching up a bit now.
You recently reblogged some wonderful photos - bethandbono is so talented, great eye. They are one of my favourite photographers. Who are your favourite photographers?
I enjoyed your two recent art posts. I found it cool how you did one black on white and one white on black. Have you ever done the same image with the two different pencils/paper? Where did the black pencil on white paper image come from? I couldn't place it. It is so soft, just wonderful. Thank you for the @ on your artwork.
I also saw the @ for the necklace combo. Too funny. I look forward to the day we have to tell someone how we met. I keep trying to edit that most amazing combo. I never come up with anything interesting, something I would want to post. Not sure what I'm looking for. I haven't given up, the journey continues.
On my last visit you ask how I started/techniques. (I think this is close to what you asked.) As far back as I can remember I have always liked colours. I find them delicious. (Don't worry I did not eat crayons as a child) I often find when others are looking at the object, I'm looking at the shape/colour/texture. I'm the person who looks on a pattern floor and sees images/people/animals. I came here thinking I would try to post 1 edit a week. I found out sometimes it is more, sometimes it is less. The program I use the most is Affinity. There is Publisher/Designer/Photo in the suite. I'm still learning the programs, thank goodness for youtube.
OK SERIOUS business now. Bookclub business. Please look at your calendar and let me know when is a good time to begin reading My Policeman. End of February? End of March? Other month? I have some thoughts brewing in my head. I will contact you again to figure out/agree on the details.
I wanted to let you know I enjoy when your reposted your previous artwork. I like to think of them as Blast from the Past. It is great for those of us who are new(ish), trying to figure it all out.
Take care and have a great week. Until we message again.
W (progress)
Hello W :),
I am really sorry this took me so long to answer. I will write several-part answer, so this is just the first one. I was very busy and was not here much. I hope you are feeling well and have a lovely weekend.
The ref photo is the pastel one where is Harry in pastel pink and yellow etc. I might find it and link it. Yes, I did the black and white version of the same picture at least once (Severus Snape - it is the one I can remember immediately) but I think I did it with Harry or Louis too.
The My Policeman bookclub bussiness. Lets do it in March. At the beginning of the month if you have enough time. I am ready to be sad again :).
This is the end of the first part. I am sorry I have to go to bed now. Have a wonderful afternoon and evening.
Till the next time!
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crazydemigod666 · 1 year
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I posted 9,536 times in 2022
34 posts created (0%)
9,502 posts reblogged (100%)
Blogs I reblogged the most:
@just-a-little-anxious
@roses-bubbles
@we-all-horny-here
@zoe-oneesama
@sasmeo-bisaster
I tagged 2,329 of my posts in 2022
#dsmp - 265 posts
#mcyt - 246 posts
#dream smp - 226 posts
#toh - 210 posts
#the owl house - 146 posts
#miraculous ladybug - 142 posts
#scarlet lady - 138 posts
#scarlet lady au - 137 posts
#scarlet lady comic - 136 posts
#sanders sides - 104 posts
Longest Tag: 140 characters
#honestly it would just take looking up their own mother's music history to realize she dropped jagged's band around the time she was pregnan
My Top Posts in 2022:
#5
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Hi tumblr I'm still alive here's a Virgil sketch
Taglist ( sure been a while since I used that huh)
@purp-man @lance-alt @sasmeo-bisaster @gattonero17 @shadowylemon @justmeandmygayships @fantasticfangirl21 @spooky-scary-virgil @the-sympathetic-villain @someoneiwasnt @happy15crazy @cirishere @whom-is-thy @venus-virgil77 @moonfrost-star-comics @chaosfamder @treeni @thatonechicken @septiplierdantisanders @a-fanfic-reader-and-author
@virgil-sanders-the-gay-emo @catemons-blog @romans-dull-creativity @purpleweasel96 @cerulean-watermelon
99 notes - Posted August 29, 2022
#4
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Jason Todd in @ayamari-no-goshi 's To Join The Whispers fic! It's a batfam meets Danny Phantom AU from Jason's POV and its SO GOOD
I know it's not really compliant with his reaction to the uh, 'situation' but I liked the design and idea of how this turned out 👉👈
Image ID:
A digital drawing of Jason Todd. He his shown from the waist up, holding up his right arm, the white gloved hand semi transparent with a blue glow.
He is wearing a black mask over his eyes that are glowing bright green and the mask over the lower half of his face is a bright blue, as are the hood down on his back and the main body of his jacket. The sleeves are white and rolled up to his elbows, the rolled up part the same blue colour .
Underneath his jacket he wears a long sleeved black shirt with the bat symbol on his chest blue instead of red, emitting a similar blue glow as his hand.
The colours of his usually black and white hair are reversed with the white streak being black and the rest of his hair including his eyebrows white, the tips turning transparent.
Around his body is a blue glow as he stares at his hand in confusion.
Three glowing neon green ghost with red eyes and mouths are swirling around him as a similar green ghost portal swirls in the background, showcasing Jason being called by the Pit again.
119 notes - Posted March 5, 2022
#3
Snowy white hair, green eyes something something, POINTY TEEF
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119 notes - Posted November 8, 2022
#2
Egg Enjoyers WHERE U AT
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Absolutely Speedrunning this one
173 notes - Posted September 9, 2022
My #1 post of 2022
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Virgil in the rain as a secret santa gift for @s4moose ! (Which is,,, way too late, I know, I know)
And also the first Sanders Sides art of 2022! (And also the first ts art in like,,, months, sorry...)
I'm really happy with how it turned out!
Taglist under the cut, let me know if you would like to be added! 💜✌
@purp-man @lance-alt @sasmeo-bisaster @gattonero17 @shadowylemon @justmeandmygayships @fantasticfangirl21 @spooky-scary-virgil @the-sympathetic-villain @someoneiwasnt @happy15crazy @cirishere @whom-is-thy @venus-virgil77 @moonfrost-star-comics @chaosfamder @treeni @thatonechicken @septiplierdantisanders @virgil-sanders-the-gay-emo @catemons-blog @purpleweasel96 @cerulean-watermelon @hrrthryhhyr
228 notes - Posted January 15, 2022
Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →
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missguomeiyun · 4 months
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Homecooking [Sept - Oct - Nov ed]
Sorry. .. this is gonna be a long one.
I had trouble uploading pictures =( so it took a long time on my end. I don't really like this new Tumblr layout. Well, it's not new anymore but I just find it as 'friendly' as the previous version. Uploading takes more time, I find. & there's a cap for number of photos per post. Is it bcos some lag if there are >30 pictures?
Anyway, here we go~ 3 months' worth...
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Zucchini pancake. I wanted to make them more circular but didn't work out lol we had a lot of zucchinis for that 1 week & they were like all going sort of bad. .. so I made a big batch of these & froze them. (reheated some for breakfast)
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Leftover curry beef + napa cabbage with thick rice noodles. The curry beef was actually delivery from Spirit Bistro (saved that for another post). The curry was excellent! A lot of ppl like coconut milk in their curry bcos of the sweetness & extra creaminess. .. but I don't. So this Cantonese style curry was desirable for me.
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STILL the same curry beef but added my own stuff to it (had extra sauce from the restaurant order). Ate it with some veggies, pickled radish & seaweed.
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Busan fish cake + salted seaweed udon <3
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Snack break lol this is "Japanese teriyaki" chips. Sweet & savoury; highly addictive. Got this on sale. .. normally close to $4 for this small bag.
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Beef cubes + napa cabbage soup my mom made . .. with thick glass noodles. My nieces like these noodles in soup only so I decided to give it a try. .. yeah no. Japchae/dry format for me.
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Steak + lettuce .. & orzo mushroom soup. I used the Knorr mushroom broth. Wowww I did not expect it to be so dark in colour (never used it before).
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Have you tried 'fried' orzo? xD I haven't .. so I decided to give it a try. Orzo + salt + pepper + garlic powder. It was pretty good actually! I was pleasantly surprised. Coworker thought it was rice but .. nope! As you know, I don't rice often.
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Usually we get pork belly from Hmart or T&T but this was purchased from Costco. It's leaner & has less layers. But still good! Pork belly is pork belly haha my parents like braised (/softened) pork belly but I like it dry/grilled/pan-fried.
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Cheese ramyeon with leftover hot pot beef~
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Ra-bokki with budae jjigae soup base
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Ginseng chicken soup. This brand is not that good. .. I've learnt from my past mistakes, where upon cooking, the chicken disintegrates. .. so I now just pour out & microwave. The result? Still disintegrates.
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Rice cakes & fish cakes in savoury soy sauce.
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Another budae jjigae soup base ramyeon (without rice cakes this time so not ra-bokki).
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Soybean paste stew (deonjang jjigae) + air-fried dry rib + rice.
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Curry ramyeon. Sponsored by Ottogi! lol jk. I wish!! I used the Ottogi brand plain ramyeon (the kind without any seasonings or anything) & the Ottogi brand mild curry.
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Thickn rice noodles with beef & bokchoy. The broth looks plain & flavourless but it's actually pho broth. (the instant cube kind that you just put into the water)
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Perilla seed poweder sujebi with beef, napa cabbage, some chicken breast & topped with seaweed. YUM!
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The thin rice noodles with cabbage & satay sauce. Once in a while, I like random no-meat meals. ..
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Janchi-noodles, aka 'celebratory noodles'. I made a super simplified version using egg, kimchi & seaweed.
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Tried out this new appliance. It is a plug-in skillet-pot(?). I don't know the name but it's like a square pan but has a good depth so you can boil stuff in it, but can also be used as a grill. I made a big portion of spicy wonton noodles.
One drawback: doesn't heat up very fast.
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Bcos of the above drawback that I've just mentioned, using this appliance as a 'heater' is a better use of it. It'll be nice in the winter when we use it to make Cantonese-style 'pots', you know what I mean? But for now, I'm the only one using it bcos my parents think it's too slow to heat up lol this was my ddeokbokki for 2 (leftovers for my lunch the next day).
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Egg noodles with rice cakes + dumplings + fish cake & baby bokchoy.
Seriously, noodle soups is all I need in life lol
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Used pre-packaged ginseng chicken soup base & chicken pieces to make the broth/soup, & then used the soup to make congee! So it's really ginseng chicken congee & it was so good! I should have saved some soup for the chicken to bathe in but I used it all for the congee bcos I scooped in too much rice -.-"
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Thick rice noodles with beef brisket & baby bokchoy. I prefer napa cabbage over bokchoy any day but these bokchoys from Hmart was very good quality & price was decent! Not sure about you if you also live in Edm, but the quality of produce in Chinatown grocery stores has gone down the drain =/ so much of the inside is rotten or you end up with like 'half' of the vegetable bcos the outside leaves are poor quality (hence toss out). It's hard to find the balance between how much you're paying & how much you get out of it. This bokchoy was pricier but you don't throw out as much so. .. on avg, it's better? *shrugs* it's tough! Hence we bought so much! It lasted pretty long too.
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Italian vegetable garden soup (the pre-made ones in container, not can) with some added pasta cooked by me.
Soooo that is it. I will try to be more punctual with my posting. I PROMISE!
PS: Have you all watched The Devil's Plan?? I'm not into game/reality shows bcos I find there's like to much drama &/or too scripted. But TDP was actually very good - a lot of brainy stuff & little drama haha I enjoyed it a lot. I wanna play some of those games!
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threenorth · 9 months
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I told you every morning I check your socials, today you decided to go private on tiktok,
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Top right, the moon reminds me of you too, it's something In the way the light glimmers of your eyes and into your moon soul but I see the sun, it burns bright your love with showing me the way out of pain and suffering....
Black left top, the only reason we aren't together is me(you), you've been waiting?
(post vent) I hope this wasn't you but I rambled...
Well last I checked, I got kicked out of my motel for them being an assholes, the police in the mountain city told me my actions could be considered assault if I keep doing what ever it is I'm doing, and I thought it was a warning, so once I got kicked out had to go to a shelter and got kicked out of that for a pending restraining order, whitch I didn't know it was pending, and in that trip behind the scenes I had two big mental issues, that trip I had two panic attacks, with the lack of air and I couldn't risk a third especially that I'm still trying to be a nose breather now.. with the attuide the canned air probably saved my life the second time...with the homeless guy stealing the bike and so if this is you, I too am waiting but last I herd your in a relationship now from the police, who knows what's true anymore... but I'd hate to tell you that if we talked that trip, I might of been able to stay longer than a month but my out goings I don't know if you could of supported but maybe next time I break free it will be debt free.. I don't think we could afford it currently, so it's better to return home deafed, where I then had a rocky few weeks, two incidents of meltdown, maybe a truma break on both, I don't really remember it all to well.. Fun having my sensory issues on the fritis with a school truma and Costco some lady having a diabetic attack.. and just two weeks ago lights flickering andbgetting out of hospital for truma, (ED) and into into mental respite for four days, and now back to work full time next week, I unfortunately I put it behind me so quick I can get treatment for possible issues of whatever it could be but I'm facing my issues and pain... God I hate my mind for being so good and great sometimes... I really hope that wasn't you... But it definitely feels like it... I don't even know how to reply to that message...but soon maybe you'll come here... It's quite a long trip I reccomended exit rows if you can... It's been a rocky year for me so far....
White, you want to take risks but I can't?
I risked my life three times in Colorado, I traveled across the world, this is surely not you... Some of these posts feel like knifes if they were you but don't worry I'm fucking bulletproof and will always rebound the question is when...
Purple, no one will replace you either.
Dark purple, that's bull shit your perfect in everyway.
Red, I miss you everyday, every hour and sometimes minute by minute...
Light blue, you hate me, I get it... I did break your heart and I'm so sorry... I'm slowly trying to understand how my body goes zero to 100 in mental health with no warning signs... Well for me other than that maybe my eye colour and I don't really want to go looking unless I have too...
Pink, probably I think about you in my bed, in my heart, when I cook food wondering if you would like my food I make... Everything I do sings of you...
Grey, depending on the Playlist each one has a theme or a reason, yours is Forrest Gump stages but not themes, I like them... When I could see them...but like most of your socials all locked away but two...Anyway here's Billie at the start of. Bullet in a Bible.
youtube
Music means alot to me, I'm sure you are the same given our past.
Black 1 image two right bottom two up, I love you too Ren, maybe soon you'll message me, you know almost all my socials expect one but it's easy to find, yours on the other hand I feel a mole, but I don't know if I'm going crazy or not.
Green, you always are my favorite person and I blame myself for my actions that I didn't know I was taking, maybe you should blame the older me, he's nice or a complete asshat...
Who knows, whitch are you but sometimes I swear all these sing of you other times I'm second guessing but I can't tell sometimes ...
Well time to eat tofu stirfry leftovers for lunch.
P.S
There's a few on Charlie and Logan that I can't tell if it's you either, all these messages make me feel poetic maybe I'll make a poem at lunch based on my thoughts I had one day in the mountains.
0 notes
mccurdy91bowen · 2 years
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meltwonu · 2 years
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〚 💜 𝕕𝕠𝕦𝕓𝕝𝕖 𝕕𝕚𝕡 💜 〛| [CHAPTER 8]
this chapter pairing; florist!wonwoo x reader x tattoo-artist!jungkook
genre&warnings; florist/tattoo-artist!au, dom!jungkook, dom!wonwoo, threesome, blowjobs, face-fucking, masturbation, spit kink, dirty talk, degradation, name-calling, hair pulling, bukkake ☠️💕 Now when was the last time I updated DD huh kjdshfkjsdh 😭 LOL also sorry i switched up the days, this just worked better for me so 😭💕💕💕 Also I had this idea in my notes for a very long time, literally months so I’m glad i finally could bust it out !! It just… the jeons were too obvious of an idea i needed to bang out 😈🥲 And we all know they’re s-rank bias wreckers... 🥲🥲  And thank you, as always, for the continued support on this wild little miniseries!! I gotta make some… like, hybe office worker idol au fics for this one now that they share the same building… 😗 For next time~ Enjoy ch 8 for now and I’ll see u later!💕 I love u and stay hydrated! 💕💕
(this is if we had tattoo-artist!jungkook and fratboy!wonwoo meet levels nasty so u have been warned 😏)
*queued post.
word count; ~3100
chapters; 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7 - 8 - ?
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“Stop looking at him, I said.”
“I fucking can’t, he’s so cute!”
Jungkook rolls his eyes; slapping a pair of gloves on before picking up his tattoo gun. “See, this is why I don’t like bringing you into the shop with me. All you do is look at that florist across the street and tell me how you think he looks innocent and whatever the fuck else.”
You grin back at the tattooed male from your place behind the front table - eyes darting from the window to Jungkook who’s about to start tattooing Mingyu’s shoulder. “What else am I supposed to do then? I mean, I couuuuuld go over there and just talk to him while you work.”
Mingyu scoffs as he digs his nails into the tattoo bed when Jungkook doesn’t even bother to warn him that he’s started.
“Do that, I’d like to see you try.”
“Damn, Jungkook, ease up or you’ll fuck up my tattoo!”
The male rolls his eyes and wipes away the excess ink; dabbing on some vaseline before bringing the needle back onto Mingyu’s skin. 
“Shut up and let me work.”
You laugh lightly as they continue to banter, simultaneously admiring Jungkook’s sleeve of tattoos as he works.
The two of you had been dating for three years already and you’d seen the artwork add onto his skin as Jungkook had made a name for himself in the tattooing industry.
Recently, he’d relocated his studio on the other side of town - across from a small strip of stores, one being ‘Jeon’s Floral Arrangements’. And while the street was a rather quiet and less traveled one, he noticed the flower shop usually had a string of regulars coming by every other day.
‘Weird, it’s my last name too,’ he’d mumbled - lollipop precariously hanging from between his lips as he’d unloaded the moving van, ‘Maybe it’s an old grandma running it or somethin’. We should introduce ourselves just in case she needs help with some heavy lifting.’
And as the two of you’d quickly found out, it was definitely not an old grandma at all.
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“Ah, thank you so much for coming in again! Enjoy your weekend! And don’t forget to water your plants this time!”
Wonwoo beams at the chuckling man that leaves the store; the bell jingling above Namjoon who comes to replace the bonsai that he’d over trimmed again.
“Hmm.. what’s left to do.” Muttering to himself, Wonwoo undoes the apron around his waist to retie it before readjusting his glasses perched on his nose bridge.
He ran the shop alone and while most people asked if he ever felt the need for other employees - he’d often shrug them off and tell them he liked the quietness and calmness of the store when he was there alone.
‘I don’t have to worry about anyone but myself,’ he’d said; fingertips wrapped around a coral coloured rose as he inspected it for imperfections, ‘It lets me think and clear my head, to be honest.’
He takes a deep breath as he stretches from behind the register; arms above his head as he plans out the rest of his night as the sun starts to set in the distance.
“Oh! I should work on that arrangement so it’s ready for tomorrow…” Nodding, he walks to the front door and flips the ‘Open’ sign to ‘Closed’ before dimming the lights.
“Shouldn’t take me too long…”
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“I just need to do some highlighting with some white ink and we should be done, 'Gyu. Shouldn’t take more than 30 minutes.”
Mingyu grunts in return as you come by with a glass of water for each male, smiling as the tiredness becomes visible in their eyes.
“We’ll all be out of here and enjoying our weekends soon!”
Jungkook sets the tattoo gun down onto the table as he stretches and takes a break himself; yawning and cracking his knuckles before he stands and takes the glass of water from you.
“Oh look, your little lover boy in the flower shop is working on a huge project over there.”
You follow Jungkook’s line of vision to see Wonwoo in the window with, what had to be, three dozen roses. “Woooow, that’s so pretty! And it’s getting so late too, I hope he’s not overworked.”
“He’s!? Overworked!?” Jungkook guffaws, water spilling down his chin as he laughs and peers back at Mingyu who raises a brow from his position. “You hear that, 'Gyu? Mr. flower man over there might be overworked. His poor,  aching hands.”
“Yooo, if y’all have beef, leave me out of it. I just came for the ink, man.”
“We don’t have beef, my girlfriend just wants to fuck the florist, is all.”
“Hey!” You retort; slapping Jungkook’s arm as you pout. “I never said that!”
Jungkook leans down until his lips are ghosting against the shell of your ear; goosebumps rising on your skin as you gulp.
“So you’re telling me you don’t imagine his delicate hands all over your body with my rough ones? How he’d probably be soooo patient and slow when he fucks you while I ruin that cunt of yours? Hmm? Oh, how I bet you’d love for him to fuck you after I’ve already cum inside that filthy ‘lil pussy of yours.” He licks the shell of your ear as you let out a shaky breath and instantly clench around emptiness at his filthy whispers.
“N-no, but… Fuck, now I am, you asshole.”
He laughs and pulls away from you, downing the rest of the glass of water before handing it back to you and kissing you on the forehead.
“That’s very cute of you. We’ll invite him over for a light snack after I’m done, okay? I wanna have a chat with him, that’s all. Let him know a few things.”
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Wonwoo finishes the wedding arrangement that needs to be delivered for the next day; a soft content sigh falling from his lips as he takes in his work.
The couple had requested an arrangement of coral coloured roses mixed in with red ones and Wonwoo had painstakingly made sure to arrange them in a way that was pleasing to the eyes.
“Okay, let’s see, I--wh--” 
In the few seconds he lifts his head and peers out the window, he, very, panickedly looks down towards the countertop to make sure he didn’t accidentally see something he wasn’t supposed to.
What? No way, he thinks, I’m just tired, that’s all. I’ve been staring at the same arrangement for too long, I’m just seeing things.
He shakily looks back up and peers out the window to see that, yes, he was actually seeing what he thought he was.
“Holy… Fuck.”
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“Jung---Jungkook! Ah, s--slower, mmh, fuck, he’s w-watching…”
Your hands grip onto the glass countertop as hard as you can as Jungkook’s hips slam into your ass with each powerful thrust, but he makes no effort to slow down as he grins up at the man currently watching the two of you with his mouth agape.
“Slow down? You’ve never asked me to do that before… What’s wrong? Don’t want your loverboy to know you’re a needy ‘lil cockslut who likes it when I use your pussy to my liking? Hmm? Do you want him to think you’re a pure ‘lil vanilla angel?”
Your breasts press into the glass as you whine and drop your weight down harder onto the surface; teary eyes trying to focus on Wonwoo before rolling to the back of your head when the head of Jungkook’s cock slams right into your g-spot.
“O-oh, fuh--fuck, right there! Fuck me right there, h-harder!”
Jungkook scoffs, blunt fingernails digging into the skin of your ass as your pussy clamps down harder onto his cock.
“Whatever you want, baby.”
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Wonwoo tells himself he should look away but the stare that Jungkook sends him tells him that the other male wants him to see.
He gulps and quietly palms himself over his slacks; soft moans spilling from his lips as his shaky fingertips move towards the zipper.
No, wait, maybe I shouldn’t…
But he peers back up, hyper-focused on the way Jungkook’s now put three of his fingers into your mouth from behind as your body rocks against the glass countertop he’d bent you over - and Wonwoo can’t help but imagine that’s his cock in your mouth instead of those fingers.
“What the fuck, what the fuck…” He mutters softly; throwing all caution into the wind as he undoes the button and zipper of his slacks before shimmying his boxer briefs down just enough to wrap a delicate hand around his thick shaft.
“Oh, g-god… Fuck…” Wonwoo lets his head loll to the side as he spreads the precum down his shaft - eyes focused on you and Jungkook and timing the flicks of his wrist to match the thrusts of Jungkook’s hips.
His jaw clenches and he thinks about the first time the two of you had walked into his shop - cheery and inviting despite Jungkook’s inked and pierced body.
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“Howdy, neighbour.”
Wonwoo looked up to meet Jungkook’s grinning face only centimetres from his own - a soft gasp spilling from his lips as he took in the man’s eyebrow piercing and inked arm in a matter of milliseconds before pulling away and noticing you standing next to him.
“Sh--shit, sorry, I--I wasn’t paying attention. I didn’t even hear you guys come in! I’m so sorry!” He chuckles nervously before clearing his throat. “Can I help you find anything today?”
“Nah, we just moved in across the street!” Jungkook grins and points to the studio across the street - the minimalistic black building with a simple ‘JK STUDIOS’ in bold above the door. “We thought there’d be an old lady in here but it’s… you. Not that that’s a bad thing!”
“We just wanted to come introduce ourselves since our shops are right across from each other… Oh, and Jungkook noticed your store name has his last name too!”
Wonwoo smiles at you and readjusts his glasses, “Ah, yeah. My name is Jeon Wonwoo. It’s a pleasure to meet you! Funny how things work out, huh?”
You introduce yourself and shake his hand - already noticing how soft they were. “Your hands are so pretty!” Wonwoo blushes at your compliment just as Jungkook grins.
“And I’m Jeon Jungkook. It’s nice to meet you, man. Hope we get along well!”
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And now here Wonwoo stood, precum leaking from the tip of his cock as he fucked his enclosed fist in time with Jungkook’s quick thrusts.
He watches as Jungkook takes his fingers from out of your mouth - drool pooling onto the glass underneath you as the inked male makes a ‘come hither’ motion with his saliva coated fingertips.
Wonwoo furrows his brows in return, using his free, shaky hand to point at himself to which Jungkook just nods before planting his hand firmly onto the small of your back until your chin is touching the other end of the countertop.
Oh.
And Wonwoo has never sprinted across the street that fast in his life.
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He thinks to knock but the way you and Jungkook pay him no mind lets him know that the door was unlocked the entire time.
“O-oh, go--god, fuck, your cock is s-so big, mmh, stretching my ‘lil p-pussy out so g-good…”
Goosebumps rise on Wonwoo’s skin the second he hears your whiny, filthy words and he makes sure the door is shut and locked behind him before he saunters over to the end of the counter where your head is.
“Well, howdy, neighbour. Hope you enjoyed our little show.”
Jungkook smirks, glittering eyes meeting Wonwoo’s blown out pupils through the lens of his glasses.
“This needy ‘lil cockwhore got her panties alllll wet earlier over a few things I might’ve said… My bad, I didn’t mean to bring you into it.”
“W-what did you say…?” Wonwoo whispers.
“Oh, y’know, just… She thinks you’re so… nice. And sweet… Told her maybe you’d fuck her nice and slow while I fucked her dumb ‘lil cunt into the shape of my cock. Y’know, praise her for being so good while I spit in her mouth ‘n all. We just wanted to see if that was true.”
Wonwoo threads a hand through your hair, soft and nice as you mewl and lean into his touch. He massages your scalp as soft sighs escape your lips despite the way your body rocks with each snap of Jungkook’s hips.
But it doesn’t last long.
The grip in your hair gets tighter - almost as tight as Jungkook when he’s being rough. “O-oh, W--Wonwoo!”
The bespectacled man smirks down at you before he returns Jungkook’s toothy grin.
“Maybe all Jeon’s think alike.”
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You can barely touch the ground with the way the two males have you bent over the glass countertop - body rocking between the two as they use your pussy and mouth to their liking.
“Fuck, if her pussy is as tight as her fuckin’ mouth, I might need to come over here more often,” Wonwoo licks his lips before drawing his hips back and thrusting into your mouth, “Or maybe she can come over and I’ll teach her a thing or two about arranging.”
Jungkook grins and slaps your ass once; the action making you whimper around Wonwoo’s cock and clench around Jungkook’s.
“Oh? Hear that, baby? Wonwoo’s gonna be nice and arrange some things for you. Isn’t he nice? Just like we thought, right?”
You gag around Wonwoo’s cock as he starts to fuck your face - tears streaming down your cheeks and messing up your makeup as both males thrust into you at the same time. 
Wonwoo’s cock thrusts into your mouth just as harsh and quick as Jungkook thrusts into your wet cunt and makes you think about just how rough the two of them would be fucking both your pussy and your ass at the same time.
The fullness makes you feel lightheaded and the way they both almost challenge each other on who can fuck you the roughest makes you want to cum already - except you know better than to cum without Jungkook’s permission.
“Fuck, her cunt is getting so tight… Mm, pretty baby wants to cum already~ But we’re not done with you just yet,” Jungkook grinds against you just as Wonwoo’s cock cuts off your air supply when he sinks his entire length into your mouth and throat.
“Can we both cum on her pretty face? And then we can take turns cumming in her pussy too,” Wonwoo grunts.
He holds you onto his cock for a few more seconds as you choke around his girth - Jungkook laughing cruelly behind you as you clench around his cock.
“Fuck, maybe all Jeon’s do really think alike.” They both share a laugh before they pull out of you - your pussy feeling painfully empty as the air returns to your lungs.
“We want you on your knees now, baby. Wanna give you a ‘lil treat.”
It takes a second for you to process anything the two males said and it’s only when Wonwoo starts to round the counter that you feel Jungkook starting to help you from your bent position over the glass.
The rug digs into your kneecaps, your makeup is smeared all across your face, and your clothes are bunched up around your waist from them not bothering to undress you properly - not that you care.
The ache between your legs to be filled and fucked has you obediently sticking your tongue out and closing your eyes as both males wrap a hand around their cocks before they step closer to you.
“Mm, such a good girl… You’re quite lucky you have such an obedient slut on your hands… Makes me a little jealous, to be honest.” Wonwoo teases.
“I don’t really like sharing but… Might be able to make a few exceptions here. I think she’s in good hands.”
Jungkook leans over your body - a glob of his own saliva hitting your tongue first as you whimper and swallow it down before sticking your tongue back out and waiting.
“So good, baby~”
All you can hear are their grunts and low moans as you rub your thighs together and try to alleviate the carnal need in your body.
“Oh, f-fuck, ‘m gonna cum...” Muttering, Wonwoo tightens his grip around his cock and aims straight for your face - rivulets of cum landing directly on your tongue and chin as he lets out a string of curses.
And Jungkook follows suit after a few more quick flicks of his wrist; cum landing everywhere from your hair to your breasts as both males continue to ride out their highs.
The warm cum slides down your skin and only makes you crave them more as you open mouth whine and start grinding against the air.
“Fuck, you’re such a ‘lil whore. Look at you grinding against fuckin’ nothing... Need us to ruin your pussy so fuckin’ bad, don’t you?” Wonwoo quips, “If Jungkook wants, I have all night too, we can do our worst~”
“I wanna see my pretty baby swallow down all that cum in her pretty mouth first~”
You immediately do as you’re told - swallowing down all the warm cum before you bring a shaky hand up to your eyes to wipe the cum from your eyelids.
“P-please… I--I--” You peer up to both males with teary eyes; the need in your body reaching a record high as they stare down at you with teasing, lustful eyes.
You take the cum on your fingertips and collect more of it from your body before reaching between your slicked thighs and smearing the combined loads of cum all over your soaked folds before repeating the process and easing two of your cum-soaked fingers into your pussy.
“N-need you b-both, a-ah, right here… Inside m-my pussy… p-please…” You all but beg; letting them watch you as you collect their drying cum on your skin and fuck it deeper into your own pussy as you finger yourself. “P-please! W-wanna feel you s-stretching my--my pussy out, mmnh, so good...”
Wonwoo lets out a whistle just as Jungkook scoffs - somehow knowing that this is exactly how things were going to pan out as he and Wonwoo take a second to tug their pants back up.
“I have a piercing room in the back. How about we take it back there, huh? I think we’re going to need more space for the things we’re gonna do to you, baby~” 
You nod feverishly before trying to get up on your shaky legs - your inner thighs slicked with your wetness and their cum as Wonwoo walks behind you and grins at the way you’re glued to Jungkook’s back. 
“Ah, think I can fuck her pussy first? I wanna teach her a thing or two about arranging, y’know? Give her a crash course.”
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Text
Always Read the Fine Print - Part 8
Andy Barber x Reader (She/Her)
Description: Working as Andy Barber’s PI, you are pulled into a conspiracy with Boston’s criminal underworld. Can you protect yourself and those you love from being pulled under?
Warnings: 18+ Dark fic, some smut, mentions of violence, noncon, sex work.
Words: 4.8K
A/N: Sorry for the sporadic posting schedule. I am plotting the next (and final) chapters soon. Thank you for reading! Let me know what you think, criticism and other thoughts very welcome! 💜Reblogs super appreciated!
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Part 1 ◈ Part 2 ◈ Part 3 ◈ Part 4 ◈ Part 5 ◈ Part 6 ◈ Part 7 ◈ Part 8
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You were walked out past secure doors by a uniformed officer. You looked at your feet until you saw Bucky's boots. He was sat in a chair near the door, leaning forward on his elbows, looking at his clasped hands with his shoulders slumped. You hated that posture. You knew he was really upset when he sat like that. Six months ago when you promised him you'd stay away from Andy Barber, he had sat like that. He told you that he was worried about you, only looking up occasionally, with his forehead all crinkled with concern and his eyes pleading with you to see reason.
As you walked closer to him he noticed your approach and stood up quickly. He bundled you up in his right arm and walked you out of there. He got you settled into his truck and immediately took off home. Or you thought he was taking you home. Instead, he took you to your new condo.
There was a guard outside of the main door and another at your condo door. That man looked familiar, and you realized he had worked for Winston last night at the fight. He opened the door and stepped inside, once you and Bucky were inside the hallway he cleared his throat, reaching into his coat and holding out a card to you. Once you took it from his hand he said "Winston sends his deepest regrets" and closed the door quickly, returning to his post outside.
It was a small handwritten card of heavy, expensive looking paper.
Y/N,
I should have protected you last night. It won't happen again. You are safe.
Winston
You were kind of sick of all of these men telling you how safe you were after your life was thrown into chaos. You then looked around your place. You hadn't been here in months. Bucky had started to take more and more ownership over the interior design and everything you saw you loved. You trusted him.
Your eyes widened as you looked around. The high ceilings and the painstaking wood details, bold colours, and rich fabrics were overwhelming. You felt at home immediately. The open concept kitchen and living room felt spacious and the high 2 storey windows let in a breathtaking amount of light. You put down the note from Winston on the beautiful entry table, running your hand along the dark wood surface, feeling the high gloss slip under your finger tips.
You then walked through the kitchen, barely glancing at the magnificent shine from the brand new appliances or the modern concrete countertops that complimented the black wooden cabinetry. Simple white tiles served to contrast the dark colours. You knew you couldn't wait to cook in this beautiful kitchen. The island was massive and had seating as Bucky knew you loved to sit in the kitchen with your laptop for hours.
The living room had a massive and plush sectional couch, cozily tucked into the corner so that the it faced the rest of the room. In the middle of the far wall was a modern stone gas fireplace and the tv hung overtop. It was all so clean and luxurious, not a cord out of place or visible. You also had the dining room which was just off the entry way, another open space that jutted out and connected with the patio and balcony through large sliding glass doors. He had used every square foot of this place and created a home you knew you could live in for a long time.
It looked so inviting and open. You couldn't wait to have Bucky over for a meal, watching him relax on that couch.
You walked in a daze past the living room and down a hallway, towards the upstairs of your loft. The stairs were one of your favourite additions by Bucky. He built in large bookshelves underneath the stairs and installed soft lighting that made it feel bright and clean. As you made your way up the stairs the 2 pentagonal stained glass windows let colourful beams of light fall across the dark hardwood floors. You also knew that every single step popped out as a drawer, as he demanded that function and beauty always go together.
As you got upstairs, your bedroom door was the first on the left. You walked into the massive room, with the bed along the north wall, with a cozy set of chairs in the far corner of the room outside of the entrance to your walk in closet. Just as your current room, it also served as a hallway into the large bathroom with claw foot tub, modern glass shower, and double sinks. You could barely contain yourself and walked briskly to your office, and then to the laundry room and storage room where your cleaning supplies, vacuum, and other essential items were already waiting for you.
Bucky had followed you through this whole tour, watching you closely.
You finally walked towards him and hugged him hard, sobbing into his chest.
His voice sounded strained as he said "Is it not what you were expecting?"
You chuckled lightly and said, "No it's too perfect I couldn't have imagined something this beautiful... I am not creative enough."
You felt him relax and he hugged you harder, slightly rocking you back and forth.
After a while he said "Why don't you have a shower and relax? I'll order us some food."
You nodded and did as he told you. He said that Sam had packed some of your things and left them in a duffle bag on the high countertop in your closet. You were relieved to see very comfortable clothes and a practical set of jeans and a nice sweater. He also was surprisingly adept at choosing your undergarments. Except he had thrown about 6 pairs of both socks and underwear and many different kinds of bras into the bag. Better than not having what you needed, perhaps.
You showered and used the plush new towels from the large storage cabinet. You then crawled into the inviting and over-pillowed bed totally naked, falling down into the abyss for at least 3 hours.
When you woke up, it was dark. You were disoriented but then realized you were truly safe here. You quickly got dressed and headed downstairs to find Bucky also napping on the couch. He had gone to pick up sandwiches and there was one waiting for you on the kitchen island. You ate it while leaning over the cement countertop, watching Bucky sleep and contemplating the eventful week.
Suddenly Bucky's phone rang loudly beside him. He always had the ringer on full blast as he was often either on a noisy construction site or in the wood shop at his main office working with saws and sanders.
He quickly sat up, answering his phone as he did. His eyes settled on you and he looked intensely at you.
"Hi Pam, yes she's here... What time tomorrow? Okay I will bring her then." He then said "Yeah I think so, let me get back to you on that."
After a minute he said, "Hey I just wanted to thank you. I know this puts you in a weird spot. Okay, see you tomorrow. Sleep wall, Pam."
You were a bit annoyed. He had just met her and he was already taking her side? Thank her for what? Taking all your evidence that you could use to protect yourself? What if you were charged with a crime? Would he still be thanking her then?
He softly padded towards you, his heavy wool socks deadening the noise of his foot steps. He pulled out one of the high backed chairs and settled in.
He spoke softly, "How are you feeling? I wanted to let you rest."
You just nodded and them crumpled the wax paper your sandwich came in and tossed it into the garbage under the island.
He spoke first, obviously uncomfortable with the silence. "Pam needs you to come in for an interview tomorrow. She said it will just be you and her. She doesn't think it will take long and she spent hours going through your devices today so she thinks you might even be able to take them back tomorrow.
You again just nodded. He got off the chair and came around to your side, putting his hand on your shoulder blade and rubbing slow circles. "Come on, kid. You can talk to me. Cry. Yell at me for all I care. Just say something....."
"Andy betrayed me again." Your shoulders slumped and yours eyes started to water. As the tears began to slide down your cheeks you brushed them away but you didn't feel like yourself. You didn't cry like this. It was truly like someone else was doing it and you were just observing.
Bucky stayed quiet for a long while, just being near. Finally he cleared his throat and said, "I have to tell you something."
You looked up into his eyes, still feeling very dissociated.
He took a deep breath and said, "Last night, after I left Pam's place, I went to watch Andy's office. I parked across the street and used your backup camera from up in your office. When Andy arrived, a SUV driven by Father O'Leary pulled in behind him. They talked for a few minutes, and Andy looked pissed off. O'Leary then left. I was able to get 2 clear shots of them together and Pam used that to secure a warrant for Andy's office."
You looked at him with disbelief. You weren't mad, at him really. You can see why he did it. And you were thankful that he was looking out for you, even when he probably could have stayed with Pam all night instead. But you were still disoriented. You didn't know what to think about anyone or anything right now.
You gave him a soft smile and said "Thanks for telling me. I am sure you did what you thought was best."
You then walked slowly back upstairs to hide away from everything. At 6 am you awoke to the smell of cooking food. You got dressed in your soft jeans and sweater and went down to find Bucky cooking. He looked like he barely slept, bags under his eyes and hair all askew.
He kept conversation to a minimum and served you a simple plate of food and a steaming cup of coffee. You ate side by side, and you thanked him, giving his shoulder a firm squeeze. He grabbed your hand and placed a light kiss on the back of it.
You didn't know what you'd do without him. He drove you to the police station and waited in the entryway for you again. You were in with Det. Duffy for 3 hours. She had asked you every variation of every question she could come up with and you had spilled everything you knew. As promised your backpack and electronics were returned to you. They didn't find any criminal activity but Pam did have to give you a warning that any one of those people you investigated would have a good case against you for stalking. They didn't take copies of your files though, as they couldn't legally do so as you weren't under suspicion.
As she walked you out, you looked at your phone which was running on 3 percent battery. They hadn't been able to crack the passcode and so it wasn't searched.
The surveillance app had alerted you to activity at one of the outdoor censors. You opened the app and there sat Andy on the front steps of Bucky's house.
Bucky was quietly talking to Pam and saying goodbye. You kept your distance. Surprisingly the money Stark had left was also in your bag. You wanted to just hand it to someone on the street and get rid of it but you held on to it.
As Bucky walked you to the car you said "We have to go back home."
Bucky nodded and you rushed to the truck. He drove quickly, feeling your impatience but didn't ask questions.
When you pulled up to the house and saw Andy, he looked over at you in annoyance.
You ignored him and got out of the truck.
Andy came quickly towards you, trying to hug you. You pushed him square in the chest as hard as you could and he backed up.
He was panting, and looked furious. Bucky, touched your low back and said in a low voice, "Come on, let's take this inside."
You looked up at him surprised but knew he was right. It was cold and a screaming match for all the world to see doesn't help anyone.
Bucky looked at Andy and said, "Come on, I'll make a pot of coffee."
Andy sighed heavily and his shoulders slumped but followed you inside.
You immediately went into your room to get a second to think.
Andy was sat at the kitchen table staring into the middle distance and Bucky was leaned against the countertop staring at Andy.
You came in and swung around Bucky to get a glass from behind him and then had a glass of water from the tap, drinking quickly. Your throat ached for all the talking.
Bucky brought 3 mugs over to the table and then the pot of coffee, which he sat down on an ornate trivet you knew he loved. You really wanted to tease him about it like normal but figured he really wouldn't appreciate that in front of Andy.
Your anger had dissipated now. You were still pissed at Andy but actually more just curious about what the fuck was going on. This is why you loved taking cases like these, to get to unravel a mystery.
Bucky poured you all coffees.
Andy had been watching you with red rimmed eyes.
You finally spoke, saying softly, "What else don't I know? Why are you keeping so many secrets from me?"
"I didn't intentionally keep anything from you. We just... got distracted."
Bucky's eyes narrowed at him. You felt his annoyance hit the roof.
You put your hand lightly on Bucky's sleeve, trying to get him to keep calm.
"Why did you meet with Father O'Leary."
Andy said quickly and aggressively, "I didn't meet with him he followed me for blocks and I thought was going to threaten me."
"He didn't threaten you?"
"No he... said hello from my father. Apparently old friends from the cellblock." Andy looked briefly at Bucky as if trying to gauge his reaction.
You could faintly hear a knock at the front door. It was Sam, he always knocked the same, when he did decide to knock anyway. You were so glad to see him. He gave you a hug and whispered, "Glad you're back here safe." You immediately brought him back into the kitchen and got him a mug of coffee.
He shook Andy's hand and Bucky looked at him like he just recognized a Judas.
Sam gave him a smile and clapped him on his back and said, "Come on, keep an open mind, Buck."
Bucky said clearly, "Andy was just telling us about his convict dad's criminal friends."
Andy's face went hard and he got the air of impenetrability of him. Like no one or nothing could rile him unless he wanted to be riled.
You cut through all the macho bullshit. "What else did he say?"
Andy looked softly at you, "He wanted to know if you were someone I cared about. I told him the truth: more than anything. He said he won't lay a finger on you because my dad told him to look after me."
You were dumbfounded. And relieved.
Bucky interjected, "You sure keep a lot of secrets."
It wasn't a question, just a statement of facts. It was a good reminder.
You asked what had been bothering you since Erik's victory. "Did you negotiate Killmonger endorsing Stane publicly?"
Andy nodded and smirked. "I think that was a pretty good idea, don't you think?"
You couldn't help but smile back. But you were worried about Erik and his family and friends. Who knows what lengths Stark would go to make a point?
You remembered another instance of Andy's secret keeping: he gave your surveillance photo to the press.
"You gave some of my evidence to the press."
He leaned forward, reaching towards you across the table. "Only that one photo. The journalist told him the editors couldn't run the claims of mismanagement by the DAs office without some sort of tangible evidence."
"And you were more than happy to implicate Neal."
He shook his head, "it wasn't like that." He sighed. "Well, not entirely anyway. I just needed the story to hit the press as quickly as possible."
You snorted. "No, Stane needed the story out there."
Andy shrugged as if conceding your point. Sam turned to Andy, "Any other secrets you need to tell her?"
Andy leaned forward and said, "They didn't find anything at the office because there's nothing to find. I wanted Pam to see everything anyway. Bucky interfering just sped everything along."
Bucky's eyebrows were low over his eyes and he sat back in his chair and crossed his arms.
He looked at both Bucky and Sam with his arms open, "Yes I am working for Stane but only to get the information out into the press. To make sure that Stark doesn't get to skate on his crimes."
Sam spoke up, "Like Erik said after the fight, sometimes to get what you want you have to give something up."
Andy nodded and you hated how those words that were so infuriating to you yesterday were starting to make more sense.
Your energy collapsed out from under you then. You started to get restless. You kind of wanted to take a nap. You wanted to be alone with Andy. You wanted to feel the comfort that you felt fleetingly last night.
You turned to Bucky, "I think I will pack a bag and head back to the condo. I really love it, it's perfect."
Bucky smiled a bit and nodded.
You turned to Andy, "Do you want to come see it?"
He nodded and smiled, a true warm smile.
You got up and thanked Sam for all his help, telling him and Bucky that'd you promise to text and keep them in the loop.
Andy followed you into your room. He almost immediately saw the purple feather on the floor and picked it up.
He turned to you, looking at you softly. "I hate that you were scared."
You just started rummaging around and throwing more clothes into your bigger suitcase. You were packing for a few days as you wanted to have some space and get out of this house and this room for a bit.
Andy sat on the bed and watched you. Bucky knocked on the door frame.
He said "I spoke to Sam and he doesn't think I should ask you to stay, I am just worried about you, Y/N and wanted to tell you that."
"I appreciate your concern Bucky but I will be okay. Just want to decompress a bit and I felt safe at the condo."
You grabbed your phone though and sent him a link and instructions,
"I didn't remember to give you and Sam the instructions for the security system. Now you'll know if anything happens at either location. We should have handled this before."
Bucky and Sam both got their phones and started to figure out the app. You sat between them on the couch making sure it was all working and that you had a plan if something were to happen. Well... something else, anyway.
As you were getting up Andy spoke up, "I will do everything I can to keep Y/N safe."
Bucky looked unfazed but Sam nodded in agreement. He even got up to shake Andy's hand again.
Andy followed you to your SUV. He had taken a cab directly to Bucky's when Pam let him go. You drove and Andy was silent on the ride, looking out the window.
When you had your hand rested on the stick shift, he lightly picked it up and kissed the back of your hand, returning it to rest on the cool leather.
You felt warmth for him but still confused and hurt. You parked in the heated garage and made your way up to the condo. You said hello to the guard outside your door and he only nodded at you.
You and Andy made your way inside.
**
As you increased the lighting in the dark room Andy looked around appreciatively.
You smirked "Bucky done good didn't he?"
He nodded and gave himself a tour, even taking your bag upstairs. He came down right away, whistling.
"Quite the place you got here."
You smiled happily, "It's all I've ever wanted."
You felt a bit strange as Andy had paid for a lot of this place. You had worked many other contracts as an investigator but no one else paid in quite the same increments as Andy Barber. At first you wondered where all the cash was coming from but perhaps you were scared to ask.
He pulled out his phone. "I'm starving, shall we order some dinner?"
You nodded and both leaned over the countertop deciding on a place and ordering what was probably 2 days worth of food.
When it arrived, Andy went downstairs to meet the driver, not wanting anyone to come into the building. Andy had thoughtfully bought a meal for Winston's guard. He declined an invite to come in and join you but did accept a chair and a bottle of water and the offer to use the bathroom. You found out his name was Marcel and that he was going to be outside until midnight, when another guard would take over.
You and Andy ate at the kitchen counter. Andy kept taking his left hand and rubbing your back, eating with his right. It was soothing and you were soon leaning closer to him.
Once you had finished, you made your way over to the couch and laid down. The couch was wide enough that you and Andy could lay quite comfortable side by side.
Andy made you both cups of tea and brought them over.
You were looking around for the blankets when you realized they were hidden. You told Andy to pull up the top of the ottoman and sure enough, Bucky had used the smooth metal arms to create storage underneath, and pillows and blankets were all stacked nicely.
Andy looked over at you with a quirky smile and passed you both a pillow and blanket and you cuddled in.
He let you rest, and just sat at the edge of the couch. After you woke up from your nap, you found Andy in the exact same position he was before.
You started to scooch down the couch, hoping to put your feet on Andy's lap. However, he caught your foot and dragged you down the couch towards him and you gasped a bit. Once you legs were over his he said "We need to talk. I wanted you to be nice and rested for this part."
**
You tried to scramble back from him. His eyes look wild.
"Not so fast, Y/N."
You tried to curl into a ball and get away from him, his grip on your ankle a bit painful.
"I've been sitting by myself for months thinking of you, my love. Figuring out how to help you, how to care for you, how to keep us both safe. And at every turn you have pushed me away, distrusted me... never giving me the benefit of the doubt."
You just laid there, perfectly still like you were caught in the teeth of a predator.
"I have tried to get closer to you, to open up to you, to keep you close on your own terms." He sighed heavily, his hand starting to softly rub up your leg. "But I think thats the problem. I've let you think you're in charge here."
You looked at him, eyes wide and a strange combination of desire and fear welled up within you.
His hands were creeping up your legs, you were wearing your comfortable leggings and a baggy sweater.
"But you can't be trusted to look after what's most important to me. You haven't looked after your safety so Winston and Erik needed to help you. You don't look after your body and mind so Bucky has to step in. You can't be trusted to be at home alone so Sam needs to be there every waking moment." He shook his head in disappointment, "But really, all you need is me."
He then took both hands to the waist band of your leggings and underwear and pulled them off quickly in one fluid motion.
You tried to cover yourself with the blanket but he grabbed that too, throwing it just out of reach.
He stared hungrily down at you, half standing, half kneeling on the edge of the couch.
"Take off your sweater, now"
You hesitated and he moved towards you. You scrambled up a bit and pulled your sweater over your head, then your sports bra after he motioned with his hand.
Once you were naked, you tried to cover yourself up again. He grabbed your chin roughly, titling your head up.
"Did I say you could cover yourself up, sweetness?"
You gave your head a small shake.
He caressed down your shoulder and arms, his fingers lightly dancing over your soft skin.
"Get on your knees, sweet girl, you need to make it up to me."
You did as you were told, moving to kneel on the plush shag carpet. Andy took off his own sweater and tshirt, and dropped his grey joggers. He was still in the same outfit from this morning so he wasn't wearing any underwear.
You licked your lips and waited for you next instructions. He was hard and the tip of his cock was weeping.
He stepped closer to you, lightly pressing his cock against your cheek, rubbing a streak of pre-cum along your face.
He sighed lightly, "So obedient, aren't you?"
You heated at that comment but tamped down your annoyance.
He dragged the tip of his cock along your lips, watching you with feral eyes. You snuck your tongue out and licked along the top, not able to help yourself.
He took the invitation to slowly ease into your mouth, inch by inch. He was already reaching down to the back of your throat but you wanted to please him, pushing past your gag reflex and looking up with him with those doe eyes you know he loved. He grabbed the back of your head and used your mouth for his pleasure. Spit was pooling in your mouth and starting to run down out of your lips and down your neck.
You reached up to touch your breasts and Andy growled, "Did you ask permission for that sweetheart?"
You dropped your hands into your lap, one on top of another.
He said "good girl" quietly under his breath and continued to take his pleasure.
He soon pushed you off of him, and you almost fell over.
Andy grabbed you by the bicep and hauled you up, taking you over to the dining room table. He bent you over the table, your breasts pushed up against the hard and cold surface. He reached around and underneath you, finding your clit and saying approvingly, "See? I know what you really need."
He slowly eased into you, bottoming out inside you, the head of his cock firmly against your cervix. You had assumed that this gentle entry meant he was going to go slow and steady. Instead, he grabbed your hip with his free hand, and pressed his fingers more firmly against your clit and set a brutal pace.
He was relentless and you came multiple times before he finally stuttered and thrust inside deeper to release his load high within you. He soothed your hip where it was red from his harsh grip, rubbing your back with his other hand that he had just used to abuse your clit until you were whimpering. You pulled your arms underneath you, holding yourself up slightly. He hauled you up to standing and spun you around, kissing you aggressively. You held on tight to him. He picked you up and carried you back to the couch, setting you down and the laying down next to you, pulling the blanket over top of you both.
You were on your back, and he was on his side, arm across the couch holding his head up. In the soft mood lighting you ran your fingers across his beard lightly. He would occasionally lean his head down and kiss your fingers or cheek and you smiled softly at the action.
You had been thinking about what Andy said, how he called you out. Perhaps he was right. Perhaps you were just looking at him as the enemy, unfairly colouring your perception of his actions.
But could you really trust him?
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rpd-rookie · 3 years
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The One Who Runs Away, The One Who Runs Back (Leon S. Kennedy x Reader)
Author’s note: This is a sequel to “A PAST WITH HER, A FUTURE WITH YOU” and the end of my three-parts fan fiction "I TRUSTED YOU WITH MY HEART" I decided to write after so many of you asked for it. Sorry it took so long but I was navigating from one fandom to another. (BTW, if there are any Devil May Cry fans up here, you can read my DMC fan fictions here) PS: Even if I said it before, I have no hate whatsoever towards Ada or Aeon.
Tagged: Angst, Fluff, Romance, Post-Break up, Sexual Content 
Part 1 / Part 2
***
Do you remember? We started this story by quoting some sitcom character that was clueless about love. Well, here’s a suggestion. Why not ending it by quoting someone who knew a little more on such matter.
William Shakespeare - you know that English dude expert on tragic ‘drink this poison, stab yourself’ kind of love - apparently once said ‘Love runs away from those chasing her, and those who run away, she throws herself on his neck’. I say ‘apparently’ cause, even though I have a master in English lit, this quote is from the internet, and also … who knows what the guy truly said?
But it’s the quote that’s important. Not the author. The quote it’s important because it sums up perfectly how this story is gonna end. However, before starting, let me tell you this quote is going to be the only Shakespeare-worthy sentence in this final chapter. You’ve been warned.
Love runs away from those chasing her.          Well, this part was definitely written for someone like Ada Wong. Owner of countless gold medals and possibly a world record at this point, that woman is basically the Usain Bolt of the ‘Running from Leon S. Kennedy’ competition. Unchallenged winner since the creation of this sultry version of cat and mouse game, it’s better not to think about the number of times she successfully ran away from her favourite agent.  But this year, this formidable titleholder in a gorgeous red dress will have to face her Nemesis in the championship. You. Though the comparison to the hideous bio-organic killing machine might not be very complimentary to you but you get the idea.  This year you enter the Kennedy Olympics. And this year you run like Sonic the Hedgehog and you win the damn competition (screw you Usain Bold!). And you do this with your head high and without an ounce of regret. Ignore all the texts and flowers Leon might send on your track Mario Kart style. His gifts are not as slippery as banana peels and they can easily be dodged, I promise. Well, most of the time, when you’re not lying on your bed in the middle of the night crying and sobbing while reading his messages or playing his voice in your voicemail again and again until you’re nothing more but a giant mess with puffy red eyes drowning in a puddle of your own tears.        Screw those messages too! And screw his broken yet terribly sexy voice as well!
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Being a man of word, Leon kept his promise. And for months you kept on running peacefully, marathoning away from this past relationship that had destroyed you like no other before while tranquilly fixing your broken heart on the way. That run was a good cardio.
But sometimes, cardio is not enough, and even just the small sight of an overpriced whisky bottle or the smell of Leon’s perfume on some guy’s clothes is enough to reopen your wounds.           And when it happens, you always do the same thing, you break the damn bottle - and run cause damn! it’s expensive! -  or you tell the guy his perfume smells like cheap cologne and that he should definitely change it, which is an improvement on your past destructive behaviour, since there was a time shortly after the break up when you would have simply dragged the guy to your place to let him fuck you senseless while imagining he was Leon. All that just for the illusion to feel him again and for the sake to kick him out the next morning, screaming like a hysterical psycho.
So imagine, for a small second, the wave of intense feelings surging out of your healing heart when, in the middle of a cafe, you hear some dude sitting behind you ordering Leon’s favourite whisky while wearing the same bloody perfume. “It’s got to be relentless persecution at that point!” You sigh, already annoyed, closing your book more violently than intended. Hope you’re ready, stranger! Because you’re not in the mood to deal with this right now.            You turn around with a fake smile that reflects perfectly your irritation, ready to give him hell, your sharpest riposte already burning your tongue. After all, he deserves it and you can’t help it.         But when you meet familiar – and freaking gorgeous - baby blue eyes you freeze and stare, suddenly confused and lost and refusing to believe that in spite of the intense running, love just jumped at your neck after all and it was sitting there, taking the shape of Leon S(tupid) Kennedy.
You should have stood up and left, run for your life, run for your heart. And yet, you didn’t.    You stayed there staring at him looking at you, allowing all your memories, the good ones and the bad ones, all your buried feelings to come back from the dead, embracing them as if you had missed them, which, let’s be honest, you probably had.            You tried to scream to yourself “Come on, Y/N! Shake a leg!” but it seemed that what you brain understood was something like “Cum on him! Open your legs!” as a couple of blurry hours later, you were on Leon’s bed, legs wide open, screaming his name and begging him not to stop his amazing thrusts.
Six months, you ran for six months … Well, looks like the run ends here and now. After a minute-long deep stare, an afternoon of amazing sex and two hours long of something blurry in between.
“I missed you.” And there you were! The moment all couples that broke up have after one of them (in this case Leon with the infamous ‘I missed you line’) starts to believe they miraculously rekindled their love. The fatal post-coital cuddling session that you don’t know how to react to, as you think of all the possibilities before you.      Possibility Number 1) You tell Leon you missed him too and cuddle, enjoying that embrace you secretly yearned for months. But that includes forgetting what he has done or pretending that nothing happened.     Possibility Number 2) You push him away, get dressed, leave again and act as if this afternoon never happened. But if Leon doesn’t remind you of it, the ache between your legs will, that’s for sure!   Possibility Number 3) You jump him again until you sore even more and hope that you’ll be able to leave afterwards.         Frankly, all possibilities suck because, in all cases, it seems like you lose. Since,       with Possibility Number 1) you lose the run forever, with Possibility Number 2) you lose him again and with Possibility Number 3) well it’s result 1 or 2 + your body aching like crazy for days. I suck at math but no need to be Einstein to know the result of this calculation looks unpleasant.    So what do you choose?
You see a triangular dice rolling in your head, showing a never-ending succession of 1, 2 and 3 that doesn’t make any sense and that confuse you even more than you already are. 1, 2, 3, 2, 1, 3, 2 ! Oh for fuck’s sake!
You grimace, angry and pissed at Leon and probably even more at yourself, and finally leaves his bed and his strong warm arms, feeling the tears furiously forming in your eyes. “I can’t” You can’t look at him in the eyes. You don’t want to see his confusion, don’t want to see his pain as he witnesses all his hopes shatter to pieces.         “ What do you mean?” You can hear the sheets crease behind you, alerting you of Leon’s agitation, so you hurry and pick up all your clothes scattered in his room. You must leave, now. 2! 2 it is!  “This! All This! This afternoon never happened.” You tell him, putting on your clothes with sudden clumsy and trembling hands, not caring if your bra is correctly hooked or if you put your shirt on back to front. Your heart. You have to think of your poor heart first.          “Hey, hey, hey.” You feel Leon’s hand softly grabbing your arms and you let go of whatever you were holding right now. His voice is sweet and trying to be comforting. Don’t look at him Y/N! Don’t look at him! “Look at me.” You do. Damn it! And you see his gorgeous blue eyes staring at you, studying your flustered face and the tears slowly drowning your (colour) look. You missed those eyes. You missed them so.damn.much ! As much as you missed his hands cupping your face and his thumbs wiping up your tears. God! How many tears those thumbs have missed recently. “It’s alright.”
You want to believe him. You really do. But there is this voice screaming in your head and very clearly this time. A voice shouting, forcing you to remember that night, that awful nightmarish night, the one when you felt your heart break and your dreams turn to ashes. All that because of him and his obsession for her.
“No, it’s not alright, Leon.” You shake your head and miraculously manage to take a small step back. You never thought you could. But you had to. You can’t stay close to him. You can’t let him touch you, feel you. Not if you want to run away. And you have to run away. Like her! Like Ada. Ada! “I told you. For as long as you have feelings for Ada, I can’t … we can’t…”     “Please don’t talk about her.” He begs and rubs his hand over his face. Is he trying to chase her away from his mind? Is she still in here? Please, let her not be in here.    “But she’s the reason we’re in this situation now. She’s the reason why we’re in this mess.” You insist only for the sake to see his reaction when you mention Ada, to see if she’s still under his skin, somewhere. “Ada is not the reason. I am!” Leon corrects you, a finger directed at his heavy chest as he is putting the full blame on himself for the first time since that night. “I am the one who went after Ada when I shouldn’t have! I am the reason why we broke up! I am the reason why we are so miserable!”         “But I was fine!” You shouted back in an attempt to show him he was wrong refusing to listen to that part of you who knew he was completely right. You were miserable without him. “I was doing fine until you came back and fucked everything up! I was healing goddamnit!”             You felt new tears rolling along your red cheeks and quickly wipe them off with the back of your hand that felt so callous and rough in comparison to Leon’s gentle touch. “You can’t just jump back into my life like this and expect me to forget!”
Leon nods, agreeing with you in a certain way. But the truth is, he doesn’t want you to forget. He doesn’t expect you to erase his mistake. He just wants you to forgive him … No, he just wants you to come back to him. Period. And that’s got to be what you want to. It has to!   “So why did you have sex with me, huh?” He finally asks even though he already knows your answer. “Tell me!” You’re not the kind of person who has meaningless sex, not the kind of person who worships one’s body with divine kisses and devoted caresses if they mean nothing. “Why did you have sex with me?” And yet the answer he wishes to hear doesn’t come out. “For fuck’s sake Y/N! Answer me! Why?” He shouts making you shiver and cry even more.    “Because I LOVE YOU!” You finally scream. And it hurts. It hurts but it feels good too. Like a weight lifted off your chest. “Because I missed you too! Because those months without you have been terrible! Because I don’t know how to handle even just the thought of you or the sound of your voice in my voicemail. Because each time I see something that makes me think of you, I’m a mess and I do things that normal me would never do! You fucked me up, Leon! You fucked me up but I love you! And I hate to love you!” You grunt in pain and relief, enraged but happy that you finally let everything out. And Leon listens in silence, frozen by your powerful honest confession. But he doesn’t know how to react. He doesn’t know what to say. Part of him is overjoyed, ecstatic that you still love him but there is another part that just feels terrible, sorry for the pain your love for him caused you even in his absence.   “But you see—“ You continue “That’s the problem in our relationship, Leon! I love you in ways that are so intense, that go beyond sanity. And you love me by half.”    You see him crumple, his horrified face looking suddenly very pale as if he had just heard some dreadful news. Is that really how you feel? Is that how you see his love for you? Is that what he has made you believe?         “Goodbye Leon.”
With the full intention to leave Leon’s place for good and never come back, you grab you bag on your way out of the bedroom while carelessly shoving your underwear inside of it since you forgot to put them on in the midst of panic and precipitation. Get out of here, Y/N! Now! A reasonable voice encourages you. Listen to me!    But this not what Leon wants.
“I never loved you by half.” He declares and you abruptly stop, asking God if he’s some kind of sadist that loves seeing you in pain from the comfort of his divine sofa somewhere in heaven. “Never.” But it’s not God and his sadism that makes you turn around. It’s you, and your masochist love for that blue-eyed man before you.     “I don’t believe you” Your voice almost doesn’t leave your throat as you try not to sob.           “But it’s the truth.” He says with a calm soothing voice as he slowly approaches you. “I never imagined my future with Ada. I never wished to grow old with her or build a home with her.” You want to tell Leon to stop talking, to stay where he is but your body doesn’t seem to respond. And when you feel him grabbing your hands in his and the comforting warmth that goes with that simple touch, you know that leaving is now an almost impossible task. “Yes. I admit it. My feelings for her were real.” Even when his honesty hurts you, you don’t know how to leave anymore. “But they were nothing in comparison to what I feel for you.”     You try to let go, pulling your hands away from his loving grip but he holds you back. And you’re not strong enough. Or maybe, you just don’t want to be strong. Everything is so confusing. Everything is tearing you apart.     “But they’re still here, aren’t they?” You question, hoping his answer might give you a clue, might give you the strength to make the correct decision. Do you leave? Or do you stay? “And they’ll keep coming back each she goes back into your life. You can’t let go of her.”    “You’re maybe right.” His words hurt you more than you thought they would. They hurt like hell because you realise there are not the ones you wanted to hear. You wanted to hear him say that he would let go of Ada, for good, for you. You wanted to hear that because deep down … YOU WANTED TO FUCKING STAY! “But can you let go of your past?” He continues and you shake your head refusing to hear any other word coming out of Leon’s mouth.       “Don’t!” You beg, weary.           “No! Listen to me this time. Ada is my past, Y/N. She’s my past. And you … you’re my future. You’re my life, damn it!” He doesn’t cry but you don’t need his tears to sense how emotional and how honest he is. And suddenly, you just want to listen to him. “And I was a fool not to see it sooner. When you left me, I felt a void I had never felt in my entire life. I felt like a part of me was missing. And then, the bombing in Washington happened, and it was like I had nothing left. I needed you. I wanted you. You. Not Ada.”      “Leon” You whisper and he cups your face again, blue eyes staring deep into yours, allowing you to see everything in him, his strong love for you and all the weaknesses he hated to admit. “It was you in my mind. Only you. And it will always be you. Because I love you. Now. Today. And I will always love you.”
You cry even more, uncertain if those tears are tears of sorrow, tears of joy or a mix of both. God, how can your emotions be such a mess right now? How can you be wishing to shout at him with all the anger you’ve accumulated and, at the same time, willing to kiss him with all love you’ve got?
“If you got to believe something. Believe that. And if that’s not enough and you think you can be happy with someone else. Then go. I won’t hold you back.” You frown. He is fucking lying. You’re sure of it. “You can’t stop running after me and you know it.” He smiles and scoffs, sensing that hint of sudden defiance in your tone he enjoys a lot.  “True. I can’t sop running after you. But I’ll do my best not to catch you if that’s what you want. But you got to tell me. Is that what you truly want?” You don’t reply. Truth is, you’re not sure what to say not because you’re not sure that’s what you want but because you’re not sure you can trust him if you let him in again.                        “No.” You whisper. “No, that’s not what I want. I want you. All of you.” You can see Leon struggle to contain his growing joy as it starts to glimmer brighter and brighter in his irises. He doesn’t want to cry victory just yet. He is cautious and rightfully so. “But can I?”        “Want me?” He smiles. “ Have you completely?” You correct, searching for a promise in his eyes, one you hope, you wish he would not break this time.     “Trust me with your heart again and find out.”
This better not hurt this time…
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To Survive this Pain, Part 1 - 11th Doctor x Reader
A/n: I'm not dead, I promise! I've just been struggling to finish off fics. If this seems slightly rushed it's because I just needed to finish something. It's exam season (it's extra-long now due to a certain virus), but they're over in a few weeks. I've been trying to stretch into writing for different Doctors, and in my new formats, but good old Eleven is easiest to write. Inbox is still open :)
Word Count: 2596
Summary: After the "death" of Amy and Rory, the Doctor is devastated. After deciding to isolate himself on a cloud, he leaves you with the Paternoster Gang till Strax informs you the Doctor wants to see you.
Warnings: Angst, Cold Doctor, Doctor is slightly ooc due to guilt, mild self-inflicted Injury, Bouts of Rage.
I should try to post part two as soon as possible.
This is my first ever Full Story (GIF isn't mine).
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Your shoes splashed through puddles on the cobblestone road, on your way down to the park of which you knew he would be.
You hadn't heard from him in a short while now, but Jenny and Vastra frequently advising you to pay him a visit had been getting to you. That's why, when Strax brought you the news that the Doctor wanted to see you, you leapt at the opportunity.
You were worried, you'll admit. It was clear as day that losing Amy and Rory had him tearing himself to pieces. It was only a matter of time before he sent you off, too. Before he abandoned you.
Weaving around the quiet Victorian streets, the sun still yet to grace the sky, you had arrived at the park. Looking around the odd trees that decorated the perimeter, you picked out the tree that you knew had the elusive ladder directly above it. You stepped over the beds of wilting flowers that lined the pathways into the overgrown grass.
After completing the feat of reaching the ladders, consisting of either jumping or using your umbrella handle, you had successfully pulled the ladder down far enough to climb onto.
Making your way up the ice-cold rungs, you take a moment to consider why the Doctor called for you in the first place.
It made little sense to you. After all, the Doctor had been avoiding you for the better part of two months now; what had changed?
The Doctor planning on taking you home became all the more likely in your mind as you began to climb the spiral staircase, shivering as the late-autumn air nipped at your skin. Winter was slowly breaking through the remaining life.
If you weren't so hung up on adjusting to the less-than-ideal state of Victorian England, you would've had more time to worry about the Doctor. However, he was so hung up with his own issues, and you with yours, that he only crossed your mind when you were settling down for the night.
Of course, it hurt that you too. Never seeing Amy and Rory again. You did your best to hold onto the fact that they lived a happy life together.
A life that you knew could never have. You wish you could say goodbye to them, but you chose to carry the loss with you.
You were exhausted, it was safe to say. Spending your days helping out the Paternoster Gang with new cases that come in was certainly frustrating, especially when you had to avoid so much. Milk, green dyes, dodgy stairs, aliens and gas leaks. Nothing was safe in Victorian times.
Not that you didn't enjoy the company, mind you. Jenny always provided conversation, and paired with Vastra, there were plenty of investigations to be had. You just missed them all, sometimes.
The Doctor had become such a vital figure in your life that it didn't seem right for him to not be there. When you had both lost Donna, you were there for each other, and even then, he was a wreck. You had spent those first two months together, and you had never felt closer to someone before. At first, you couldn't admit it to yourself, but after six years, you knew that was when you started falling for him.
There was so much you didn't understand about him, yet so much he had begun to explain. You had seen and done so much together, places that surprised and scared the both of you. In distant worlds and ancient times, there lay so many memories that you had forgotten. Just another thing consumed by time.
A simple flip through your diaries would confirm that through all that, you admired him: mattering not which of his faces. You had accepted from the start that he was an unobtainable desire, no matter how you looked at it.
He was old, alien and a danger-magnet. Many considered the Doctor to be a God.
It upset you to know that the Doctor could never love you, not in the way you love him. Not in the way that he had shown you what love could be, what it should be. But that was what you had to expect from the Doctor.
You assumed that consistently losing those he loved must hurt immensely. You also imagine losing someone he could spend the rest of his lives with would leave another unfixable hole in his heart.
So it made sense to you that the Doctor would never willingly fall for a human. Your short life-spans and weak bodies meant that so much as a single bullet could rob you of your life.
The thought of what a state he must've been in at that very moment was disturbing, to say the least. You had seen the Doctor angry before, and it was not an easy sight.
His heart held so much pain, so much guilt.
After what felt like a good three minutes, you stepped off the staircase. Your shoes now emerged in a cloud, which could somehow keep you from plummeting into the streets below. You felt surprisingly light, almost like you were standing in a pit of feathers, yet some odd force kept you from losing your balance. Plucking your key out of your pocket, you press your hand against the door of the TARDIS. You unlock the door, pulling the key from the lock and stepping into the Console room.
You called out for him. After listening for a moment, you concluded that the Doctor must've been elsewhere.
The TARDIS was a glum sight. Most of the orange lights were dimmed: if functioning at all. A few even had fist-holes in them. There were what looked like hundreds of books cluttering the console, all of varying topics: The Time War, Time Lord Psychology, the History of the Universe, Earth History, Greatest War Losses. Some had bookmarks; others he had clearly tabbed.
Paper littered the glass flooring, each scribbled in several handwritings. They all clearly varied in ages and sizes, some a muddy brown, others a vivid white. Quite a lot were in small clusters of pages, as though they were ripped from a book. You picked up one of the sheets to inspect closer, and your heart nearly broke.
Each page had a sort of date in the corner, which you quickly realised must've been an approximation of the Doctor's age at the time. They were diary entries, ripped out and thrown in what you assumed to be a fit of rage.
The Doctors' tweed jacket had slipped off the console and onto the floor. The contents of his pockets spilt out onto the floor.
You leant to pick it up, grimacing at just how much he was carrying around. Throwing the jacket over the railing, you avoided stepping on any more pieces of paper.
"Tidy some of this, will you?" You addressed the TARDIS, a hand on the edge of the controls, "I'll go talk to him, where is he?" The TARDIS clicked and hummed in response, showing you a blueprint on the monitor, "The Library? Okay then."
Darting out of the Console Room, you attempt to discover the library as soon as possible. You vaguely remembered the three places the library is most likely to crop up. You went from there. Fortunately for you, you didn't have to go far before the library appeared.
You had always felt as though the library was too empty. Four stories of shelves filled with books, all visible from the ground floor, the rows of shelves created a sort of maze of titles and colours. The Doctor must've owned every single book in the galaxy, judging by the sheer size. Not to mention the several dozen or so empty seats. The library could easily hold thousands of people at once, yet there is rarely ever so much as a whisper.
You had a fair clue as to why the Doctor would be hiding away in there.
There the Doctor was, turned away from the door, in an intricately decorated armchair. You could just about make out the top of his head. You loomed behind him awkwardly, unsure or not if he was aware of your presence.
"Doctor?" You faltered. His head perked up slightly, and the Doctor strained out a hum. He stood up, his arms tiredly hanging at his sides after he stretched. It checked out with your fit of rage theory. The Doctor walked up to you, and you only then noticed how fraught he was.
His expression was tired, eyes sunken and lips pressed into a thin line. His shirt was unkempt: the sleeves were torn slightly. It also appeared burnt or covered in dust. His hands were covered in dust too.
However, you noticed that his right hand had quite a few cuts and gashes, which all seeped out orange-tinted blood.
His greenish-brown eyes search yours for a moment as a tear rolls down his cheek. He inhales deeply, nodding to himself.
"Look, I..." The Doctor paused, again glancing over into your eyes, "I'm sorry- I can't, I can't do this," He took in a trembling gasp for air, "I don't want to, but I can't keep doing this. I'm sick of it. I can't keep losing people. I'm so sick of saving the universe." Unsure of what to you, you reach a hand out to the Doctors. He puts a hand on top of yours, keeping the other, bloodier fist at his side. You brush your thumb over his knuckles, his hand hot against yours. The Doctor continues, "Everyone, everyone who travels with me leaves, or dies, and I'm always alone again. Alone and in pain. I can't keep doing this..."
Smiling sadly, you nod, "I understand," You looked back up at the Doctor, "If you called me here to convince me to go home-"
"Take you home?" The Doctor's voice cracked, "I could never. That'd be just as bad as losing you. I need you."
Oh, the Doctor have his way of making you feel important at the worst moments. Your insides bubbled giddily, but you refused to show it. Instead, you ignored it to the best of your ability; what he was saying was important.
Your attention had fallen back down to his hand, and it looked considerably worse than you initially thought. Pieces of glass dug into his knuckles, the skin seeming gnarled by the force of the oncoming storm, "Doctor, your hand,"
"It's fine." The Doctor seethed, staring numbly at you, "I'm not human, it's not going to kill me."
You wanted to protest. However, given the Doctor's already fragile temperament, you weren't going to push it. Instead, after an instant of silence, you asked a simple question, "How have you been, then?"
The Doctor blinked, giving an answer careful thought. He had an earnest grimace as he finally spoke, "Furious."
"I can see, that" You hum, putting equal thought into how you should approach your response, "What do you think you're going to do, now?"
"Stay here. I'm not getting involved anymore." The Doctor spat, pulling his hand away from yours, turning to sit down, "I don't want to care."
"That's fair enough." You reassure. You didn't like the sound of the Doctor retiring too much, but you respected his choice. If he didn't want to save the world, he doesn't have to. You hoped that, in his chosen conditions, he would heal.
You vowed to yourself at that moment that you'd do everything you could to help him. Starting with his physical injuries.
You heard the armchair squeak softly as the Doctor flopped back against it, picking up a book from the coffee table and beginning to read. You headed back over to the door and grabbed the small medkit from the bracket on the wall. You paced back to the Doctor, pulling a pouffe from a few feet away to sit on. The Doctor glared daggers at you, exhaling sharply and holding his arm out in your general direction. You thanked him meekly, beginning to remove the sharp, reinforced glass shards from his knuckles.
If you were new to travelling with the Doctor, you thought that seeing this might hurt you more. However, six years of travelling was more than enough for the two of you to be used to this sort of treatment. He never seemed to care much about his physical health, more about yours. That often ended up in you worrying about the Doctor, not that you minded. You supposed it worked out, as you both fussed over each other. If the Doctor's previous face saw how he was acting, you were sure he'd have a fit. Not that he mattered, as he was still a part of the man in front of you.
You could tell by the downtrodden way he pretended to read his book, staring a hole through it, that something was bothering him.
"Are you scared of me?" The Doctor halted, voice brittle. He had taken note of how delicate you were and had drawn it up to a fear that the Doctor would lash out at you.
"No," You shushed, focusing on removing the glass from his hands.
"You don't sound sure,"
"I am." You reassured bluntly, "I'm just being careful. I don't want to hurt you more."
"I'm not hurt! You don't need to fuss over me,"
You lifted your eyebrows slightly, "There's nothing wrong with feeling, Doctor. As you said yourself, feelings enhance life." The Doctor exhaled petulantly, eyes back on his book. "But not even you can be in pain forever."
"What is my alternative?" The Doctor strangled out, "I forget? I do something selfish?"
You grimace as you remove the last small shard from his pinky. You take out a clean cloth and some water, dampening the rag as you speak, "You're forced to survive this pain, this guilt, but you will grow from it. You make mistakes so that you learn from them."
You gently clear the blood from his hands and start to apply mild pressure to the deeper wounds. The two of you continued in silence, the Doctor only occasionally removing his hand to turn the page.
He was such a different person to the goofball front you were used to. He was melancholic. However, you would see a small amount of your Doctor bubbling to the surface. He would occasionally chuckle at the book he was reading or draw circles on your palm as you held his hand still. It provided you with enough comfort to know that you weren't wasting your time.
You finished up your last-minute medical care with a bandage around his hand. You closed the medkit.
"Alright, I'm just going to go restock this, then I'll go tidy up the paper in the console room,"
"Oh- right that... Must've been a mess. I'm sorry,"
"It's okay." You smiled pleasantly, "Come find me if you need me, okay? I won't be far,"
The Doctor caught your hand in his, just as you were about to leave, he tugged at your arm. You leant down, and the Doctor pressed a short kiss to your cheek. You countered with a kiss of your own on the middle of his forehead. Just like you used to, back with his previous incarnation.
As you wandered off, you were oblivious as to what that gesture meant. Was it a thank you? Another apology? Was it even platonic?
From behind you, you swore that he said something you thought you'd never hear the Doctor say.
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