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teeful-corner · 6 months

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𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ How? .ᐟ. . . (THE FUCK ARE YOU ALIVE!?) Lloyd Garmadon x Reader | Gender Neutral Reader

ੈ˳light Dragons Rising (s1) spoilers, reference to previous seasons; Ghosts of the past come to haunt Lloyd in the future, while somehow also quelling a long-term ache in his heart. ੈ˳tags / warning: implied relationship, death (slightly detailed), dealing of lost and angsty Lloyd, Jay and Cole are still not back :(, not proof read! 4.9k words.

"Hey Lloyd!" Arin called from the library, catching Lloyd's attention sharply as he tried to pass by. The call didn't seem urgent, yet Lloyd wasn't going to do anything of particular urgency either, so he decided to peak inside; he was also wondering why (and how) Arin was in the Library. Not that it had been locked, or anything of the sort, yet because the Library somewhere that Lloyd would have thought Sora would be, not Arin. Hmm, maybe scratch that. Arin would probably be in the Library if it meant he could learn anything about the ninja. Good dedication, he had to admit, albeit it a tad weird. "Yeah Arin?" Lloyd called back when Arin didn't turn his attention over to him, still engrossed in whatever he was looking at. When Lloyd entered the room, walking over to Arin to peer at the book from behind, he would soon notice it was an old photo album. Zane, Pixel, and Nya used to keep it up to date with adventures and general family outings. "Who's that? I don't think I ever remember a ninja wearing purple on your team before." Arin asked, pausing for a minute before he added on quite proudly. "And I know more about you guys than anyone should know!"

The photo that Arin was looking at was a group photo, one in front of the Monastery before one of the countless times it got burnt down. Sometimes Lloyd couldn't help but wonder why they didn't rebuild the Monastery out of something that was inflammable; though he guessed Master Wu always enjoyed coming back to a Monastery that hadn't changed. And Lloyd had to admit, it was also a nice change of pace of the constant changing world outside. It felt like a part of the chaotic world was standing still; even if that feeling was usually a brief one. Yet, in the photo, Arin would point at a Ninja who was piggy-backing off of Lloyd back. Well, maybe not piggy-backing. It was more of, at the time of the photo, they had jumped onto Lloyd's back and he was in the process of falling down. Meanwhile, Kai had burst out laughing and Nya was elbowing him, rather harshly, with a snicker. Though her efforts were rather targeted as seeing the rest of the team was already bursting out in bubbly laughter. Lloyd swore he could hear all their laughter echo in his pointed ears, like the day had just happened. But he knew he was wrong. His eyes became saddened as much as he tried to smile; if not to soothe Arin, then to soothe himself. "Ah, well, that's the Master of Crystals." Lloyd began to explain to Arin, who craned his neck back to look up at Lloyd. "...um, shoot. What can I say about them?" Lloyd tried not to laugh at his own short comings, a habit that he was constantly teased for yet he couldn't help. "The Master of Crystals?" Arin mumbled in echo to Lloyd's statement. His eyes filtered back down to the frozen photo, taking in how blurry everyone looked from moving. He couldn't help but crack a smile. "You two seem close!" "We were!... we really were." Lloyd's voice drew off a bit, his eyes glancing to the side as he still tried to wrack his mind on what to say. He knew if he said too much he would start crying, yet he also knew that Arin would want to know as much as possible. Yet how could he sum up them in words? That task, Lloyd thought, was impossible. "I wish you could have met them," Lloyd would find himself mumbling. "They were amazing, well as great as a person can be." Lloyd started as Arin turned to face him again, photobook still supported in his hands. "They were rather talented, some of their paintings are actually hung around the Monastery - well those that didn't burn in the fires. They were. . . wonderful, incredibly funny at all the wrong times. Fearless, in their own way, and yet reckless at the same time. Master Wu always scolded them for jumping head first into situations instead of using their head. "They were rather passionate as well, yet somehow managed to be a total introvert; they would not speak to the press, nor anyone they were uncomfortable with. Always gave one of the Ninja this stare that screamed 'help me'. Social awkwardness, that's the word for it." Lloyd couldn't help but smile as memories began to surface themselves after being dormant for years. Arin kept his eyes on Lloyd as he spoke, only occasionally glancing down at the picture to look of the Ninja that Lloyd spoke of. Arin couldn't help but wonder why he hadn't heard of them before. "They were also kind... maybe too kind." Lloyd paused in his speech, he had been rambling for a while before his words fell short. So much so Arin had noticed that Kai stopped to listen from the doorway; he seemed curious on the conversation, yet soon realized who Lloyd was talking about and grew the same solemn look. "What happened to them?" Arin was compelled to ask when he noticed all the past-tense that Lloyd was using when describing the Purple Ninja; furthermore the solemn look that the two grew when speaking about them. Yet, Arin wasn't sure if those looks were because the Ninja got lost during the merge. . . or if something before the merge happened.

The silence was more deafening than a rock-n-roll concert. Arin's brain was flooded with reasons for the sudden silence, ranging from the simplest answer (they were lost in the Merge) and the most complex scenario his brain could possibly think of. He would gingerly close the photo album and try and place it back into the shelf, "We don't have to talk about it if you guys don't want to!" He was quick to rush out. He didn't want to cause any sort of discomfort, and the silence suggested he had; that or he had just resurfaced some horrible memories that were being shoved away. Arin didn't hear when Kai had came over to the two, jumping when he felt the sudden warm hand on his shoulder, and gingerly glancing back over to Kai. He seemed in a much better shape about the question than Lloyd was. Arin knew Kai was trying to offer some sort of smile to soften the anxiousness that coursed through Arin - yet his smile wasn't very convincing. "They gave their life to try and protect us, kid." Kai explained, ruffling Arin's hair in another attempt to soften the mood. Yet, somehow Arin felt worse in hearing the news, turning to look over at Lloyd with apologetic eyes. Lloyd wasn't facing them.

Sora was quick to pick up on the more solemn mood that Lloyd seemed to be slumped in, not being as attentive during training or flat out spacing out - which tended to cause multiple accidents. Sora knew she wasn't the only one who caught on either. During her training with Nya, the Water Ninja continued glancing back at Lloyd with frowned eyebrows and eyes swimming in worry. Nevertheless, they both saw how careful Arin was around Lloyd, and Sora half wondered if some sort of stress caused Lloyd to crack and snap; she's heard from a few sources that he could have a temper on him. Yet, Nya pointed out how Kai acted around Lloyd and claimed that something happened that wasn't Lloyd snapping at Arin. Something much bigger. "How can something bigger than Lloyd snapping at Arin make Lloyd so. . ." Sora fished for the right word. Distant didn't feel right. ". . .I don't know! Not-Lloyd and Arin so cautious?" Nya glanced over at Sora, lips pierced in a frown, before her eyes returned over to Lloyd, "I don't know, but something did happen. Not Lloyd snapping happen, yet something. I've only seen Lloyd this despondent since-" And Nya stopped, causing Sora's interest to peak. She waiting for Nya to continue, dutifully noticing the rise of suspicion mixed with realization that swirled in Nya's eyes. When Nya did not continue, though, Sora asked with a cocked eyebrow. "Since some big even that caused Lloyd to lose someone close to him, and he somehow still blames himself over all these years?" It was a rhetorical question, laced with some humorous sarcasm, as Sora went back to her work. She was fixing up her mech, trying to add some enhancements on it so it would run smoother. All the while she was also trying to channel her elemental power without Riyu's help. This allowed Riyu to be able to lay in the sun nearby while intensively watching Sora's work, ready to bounce onto his feet if Sora needed his help. Sora noticed the silence from Nya, yet ignored it at first as she tightened a screw. Yet, after the third, the silence got a tad awkward. Sora glanced back at Nya, who was staring at her with a baffled look; almost as though she had seen a ghost. "What. . .?" Sora glanced behind her, seeing if she had missed something. Yet, she only saw her mech and came to the conclusion that she didn't. "How did you?" Nya's posture straightened as Sora glanced back at her. Now Sora was positively confused, "How did I what?" And Nya would roll her wrists, acting like that had carried the answer to Sora's question. It didn't and Sora was left just puzzled. Yet Nya seemed to get the hint that, maybe, Sora didn't know what she was talking about and happened to just take a rather accurate jab in the dark with her rhetorical question. As for Nya shook her head, clearing the baffled look on her face, before actually waving off Sora's puzzled look this time. "Nothing, nothing. I just thought-" And again, Nya wouldn't finish her sentence as her eyes drifted back to Lloyd. Sora would notice as she rubbed her neck, her eyebrows frowning more so than before, and a frown tugging deeper on her lips.

"I LEFT YOU GUYS ALONE FOR ONLY A SECOND!" Kai's shouting filled the court yard as Sora, Arin, Wyldfyre, and Riyu stood away from the gigantic hole in Monastery wall. Kai had gone inside only a a few minutes before a merge portal had appeared right above the Monetary; which both frightened and confused the four, seeing as Lloyd had used the dragon cores a few weeks ago! "It wasn't us!" Arin started, instantly trusting his hands up in the same way a cop would ask you to. Kai gawked at the four before rushing down the Monastery steps as Zane peaked door behind him, confused. Sora was quick to add to Arin's plea for innocence, yet she was cut off by Wyldfyre. "This was not our faults!" Wyldfyre crossed her arms, "Someone just fell out of the sky, crashed, and broke the wall! It was not me this time." Sora resorted just to agreeing with the two at this point. Kai groaned, and Sora wondered if it was out of laziness (for not wanting to deal with another broken Monastery wall) or out of 'I'm going to be killed for leaving you all alone!'. Either way he rushed past the four and over to the wall, but to Riyu's concerned growls, to check out the damage. He drew his sword just encase. "Fell out of the sky? But Lloyd should have stopped the rifts from reopening." Zane said as he walked over to Arin's left, staring at the rubble with confusion before he began to analyze the rubble as Kai began to carefully climb onto of it. "That's what I thought!" Arin shouted, thrusting his hands out at the crashed wall, "but then someone just- FELL FROM THE SKY!" Sora would add, "While being spit out of a rift. Though it disappeared after they got spat out." "Again, none of this was Wyldfyre's fault." Wyldfyre stated again, nodding in agreement to her own statement as though to add value to it. Nya didn't seem too amused as she rushed out with Lloyd to the hole in the wall and the proclamations of rifts and people falling out of them. Kai swore he was getting a headache from listening to Arin, Sora, and Wyldfyre explaining the situation again; not from their voices, yet from the sheer annoyance that these rifts were causing trouble again. Especially when they had all thought that they were taken care of. And just as he thought life was getting back to normal, or as normal as life after the Merge could get, life slaps him in the face. Again! Thanks life, you're really helpful. Yet Kai's sour thoughts towards life didn't stop him from checking the rubble and coming to a quick stop after he noticed a familiar gi lying on top of the white stone. His body froze at an instant, the grip on the Monetary wall tightened, both out of fear and unknowing how to process who laid in front of him. "Lloyd-" Kai called into the flurry of voices that tried to figure out what had happened. Gaining no response from Lloyd at first, Kai tried calling him again despite not being able to tear his eyes away from the person. Finally, "LLOYD!" "What?!" Lloyd shouted back to Kai, turning to face the Fire Master both confused and more aggressive than he intended. Though his stance quickly softened as he noticed Kai's face: pale white. A beat. Lloyd gingerly, yet with as much confidence as he could muster, walked over to Kai and where he stood on the rubble. As he approached behind him, Lloyd called out again: "Kai?" Yet the only response he gained was a shaking hand that Kai pointed towards the rubble. Concerned, and with adrenaline now rushing through his blood like crazy (the held silence from the others not helping his nerves at all) Lloyd climbed upon the rubble to come face to face with a haunting face. In an instant, it felt like Lloyd's world was turned upside down as his eyes flickered over every detail of the familiar body that was no longer mangled or torn, no longer gruesomely defiled in the most repulsive way.

Lloyd could still remember how their limbs hung on like strings, or were disconnected entirely. How their blood stained the concrete road blacker than it had been, how the rotting smell filled the streets before the war had ended and they were safe to burry their friend. The details rushed back to Lloyd quicker than he wanted; more graphic than Lloyd remembered it being. The shock, horror, terror, slight disgust all made him recoil away from the stones wall; it forced him to completely turn his back and cup his mouth in fear of puking. His eyes were wide, his pupils shrunk as he tried to get those horrible, god awful memories out of his mind. The smell he remembered that coated the streets hit him, causing him to hunch over. He knew this was all in his head, old trauma resurfacing to bite him in the ass for never fully recovering from that scene. He could hear the voices, panicked and just as disturbed (mostly from the original Ninja) when they realized who laid in the rubble. Lloyd distantly felt a hand on his back, but his mind swirled and circled as he felt like his gut had been punched. "What's going on? What's happening?" Arin panic sounded so far to Lloyd, and Arin seemed further when Lloyd turned to look at his student. Arin grew fearful as he saw the detailed horror on Lloyd. Nya was trying to calm the situation. Zane was examining the body, trying to make sense of what was happening. He first ran a diagnostic and the only words Lloyd picked up were "Alive", "Breathing", "Vital". They weren't mangled and torn and tattered, they breathed and were whole and alive. That was a wild concept to Lloyd, caused his knees to buckle. His hand slid down roughly on the Monastery wall as he crashed to his knees. He was trying to keep the tears from spilling over, hiccupping escaping his throat as he choked back sobs. "Can someone explain to use what's going on?!" Sora shouted as Lloyd balled his hand into a fist against the Monastery. Sora sounded distressed, Lloyd couldn't blame her. He couldn't blame any of the new students for how they felt at the moment, after all this was slowly turning into a shitshow of emotions. Lloyd could feel Nya trying to snap him out of his engrossing thoughts yet the felt all consuming; It's like Lloyd felt everything all at once and yet, somehow, nothing at the same time. He blanked out at the explanation the students were given. He blanked out for a while. He wasn't sure when someone had managed to move him, yet he now sat in the living room of the Monastery with his fists clenching at his pants and this sickening feeling still in his stomach. How can you possibly explain that the fact that someone who had died, gave their life, to protect something greater than them (yet somehow also meaningless after they gave their life) to students who hadn't heard of them before? Lloyd moved his hand to cup his mouth, trying to control his breathing as his eyes zooned out on the floor. His knee bounced now without the weight of his arm. He could hear Nya next to him trying to explain the seemingly impossible to the three students: "A long. . . long, time ago, during one of our last fights with Lord Garmadon, after Harumi had resurrected him, we were almost cornered." Nya explained, "Well, we had been running from their joint forces for a while, taking refugee in abandoned building of Ninjago, yet this time we had no were to truly run. I suggested we split up, confuse Lord Garmadon and Harumi and Lloyd said we needed to all stick together." Nya would pause, allowing Lloyd to notice how she had rambled a little and how Kai had to place a hand on her shoulder. There was a silent nod that was shared from Kai to Nya, something to reassure her. Nya took a deep breath before she continued, "To make a long story short, the Ninja you saw crashing through the wall was the Purple Ninja, Master of Crystals. . . (y/n). "They had, despite much protest, said they would ward off Garmadon and give us a chance to escape; promised that they would meet us back at the base-"

"Garmadon tore her to pieces." The growl in Lloyd's voice didn't go unmissed as he interrupted Nya. His hand pulled down from his mouth, pulling at his skin a little before he rubbed his neck. "Left her to die rotting on the street, limbs hanging on by threads. . ." His statement was followed by silence, stunned if not horrified silence. Lloyd didn't look up at the three students, who sat or stood nearby. He couldn't bare to catch their eyes, to catch the horror that their mind was crafting after the vague description that Lloyd left hanging in the air. The silence was thick, thicker than Lloyd would have wished. "But... but they seemed.. fine?" Arin choked out, trying to get some sort of positivity back into the room; or at least to get some people to start looking on the bright side. Despite the gruesome topic. "We don't know how." Nya answered, shaking her head. "The best explanation would be that she was fixed when their soul moved on to the Departed Realm? But we haven't seen much trace of that realm in the merged... nor have we seen many traces of other realms for souls, like the Cursed Realm." "Yes, and it is rather odd that she would appear now." Zane walked into the room, cleaning his hands with a cleaning cloth. Attention snapped to him in a unsettling way (from his standards) yet he guessed it was just worry for the Ninja he had just been taking care of. "Especially after Lloyd stopped the MergeQuake. We can only hope that means that the Realms are settling into their new place, and returning people to where they're meant to be. Yet, that would not explain how (y/n) managed to resurrect." Zane noticed how Lloyd didn't look in his direction when he spoke, yet he couldn't blame Lloyd, not after all they've been through. Not after all he's been through; Especially since he was the closest to (y/n). "Well, the only thing we can do now is just wait for them to wake up, yeah?" Sora pipped up after a moment and she would receive a nod from Zane. She made sure to think on her next words, as well as her tone, before she crossed her arms, "So then let's go do something! I'm sure your friend wouldn't want to wake up after being dead for so long to see you all depressed!" "OH!" Arin pipped up instantly. "I have just the thing!"

The smell of some sort of bread was the first thing that came to mind, the second would be the warmth of a weighted cover that was tossed up to my shoulders, and the third would be the softness of the pillow at my head and the mattress under me. The warm and softness coaxed me back to sleep, yet my mind made it feel as though I had been asleep for decades. Decades. A soft murmur escaped my mouth as I rolled onto my side, my brain slowly registering the sounds that echoed from where I laid. The sound of birds nearby, the clattering of pans, the sound of laughter and chatter and talking; Feet on wood floors and sliding doors. The smell of different ingredients mixing with the smell of baking bread or maybe pie. It was like the sweetest dream. I grabbed at my covers and turned again on the mattress below me. It was so tempting to go back to sleep, to let the soft, warm sounds bring me to a dream where I was with everyone again. That was until I had fully registered what was happening. With a quick motion I shoved the blanket off of me, sitting up, and looking around feverously. I stared at the room in front of me, all too familiar and all too haunting. My hands had a mind of their own at they first touched the sheets under me, then my cheeks and face, and slowly my whole body as I began to register something: I was. . . alive? How was this possible? Hadn't I died, oh I don't remember, a few years ago? This shouldn't be possible, it shouldn't-. Thoughts circled around my mind like a storm that could not be tamed, panicked and frightened, terrified and horrific. I tried to remember what I could not, at the time, and my only last thoughts were those of the moments before I had died. The feeling of my bones, ligaments, tendons, muscles all pulling apart are screams ripped out of my throat in a piercing way that still haunting me. The tears that streamed down my cheeks, the pain; oh the unbearable pain, all suffered to make sure that everyone else could hopefully see another day. So Lloyd could see another day. I raised my hand, feeling my damp cheeks. I didn't even realize I had been crying, and I frowned my eyebrows as I couldn't understand whether it was because the memories or the confusion. And I couldn't help but sit on the bed, my bed, as I reeled in all that was happening. I was alive, I was back. Yet was everyone else here? What had happened after I died? Did the resistance work? Is Ninjago City back to how it had been? Is- The thoughts brought me onto my feet and tugged at my gi, taking in a shaky breath as I felt it. My feet guided themselves, my mind in a foggy trance, to the door and out the room, down the hallway of the Monetary while following the sounds of voices and laughter. I was led to the kitchen, were I would stand at the door and look in at the scene: Lloyd, Nya, Zane, Kai, and four people I didn't know; three kids, one frog guy. They all were making Pies, from what I could tell, and they were laughing and smiling and joking. Kai had flicked flour at Nya, who sneezed and glared playfully at Kai. Zane was putting pies into the stove, helping as the kid with pink hair read a book out loud. Lloyd with a kid in orange stood at a counter nearby, seemingly racing to make the pie that the pink-haired kid was shouting. The frog guy stood nearby. I didn't noticed as tears flowed back down my cheeks as I stared at the scene, my mouth slightly agape. Everything seemed so peaceful, so right. I could only guess Jay was in his room changing because there was a massive pile of flour on the floor and on Kai and Lloyd. Cole probably in the bathroom from having eaten too many of the sweets, with all the empty pie tins that laid on the table. Nya was the first to notice me, she was about to throw water at Kai yet paused as her eyes caught a glimpse of me and looked back. I could see the way her eyes widened, realization and relief and overwhelm wash her. All I could give her in response was a small smile, a weak bit of laughter.

There was a brief moment were we just stared at each other, and the next thing I knew Nya had rushed away from her spot and enveloped me in a hug. And I couldn't help but hug her back, feeling tears form in her eyes as I choked on mine. "Oh fuck-" Kai mumbled, and I could only guess he had realized why Nya had not shot him with water and instead rushed towards the door. The room grew quiet, confused then realized, as attention darted over to Nya and I. Lloyd's eyes. Oh, his eyes. Despite the pain that rang through them, they way they scrunched and drew out lines on his face. Despite the way he could only meet my eyes for a few seconds at a time. Despite the way they reddened, looking like he was about to cry. His eyes were still lovely as ever. I tightened my grip on Nya, "What did I miss?" I mumbled softly to the shocked silence. I let out something akin to a airy-chuckle. "Most recently, the ending of MerqeQuakes which occurred when all the realms were merged together into one big realm; before that,-" Zane began to respond yet he stopped himself. He couldn't help but smile, and I swear he was about to cry (if he could). "Actually, that does not matter. What matters now is that you're back... and awake." Nya slowly let go of me, I could feel as she tried to break from my grip and I slowly loosened her. She was smiling, yet she was crying; choking on her own tears. I couldn't help but give Nya one last reassuring squeeze before I slowly moved around her and towards Lloyd. The silence seemed thicker as I reached Lloyd, his hesitance more noticeable as his brows thickened and frowned. A thin frown spread across my lips, I knew what this was about (that much didn't take me being alive for years to know). "Lloyd I-" My voice felt weak as I started, reaching out to Lloyd with my hand yet stopping. I balled it into a fist, seeing Lloyd turn away from me, and slowly dropped my arm back to my side. What words could you say to someone who you betrayed? Nevertheless someone like Lloyd, who's been through so much and the last thing he wanted (I knew) was to see my body on the concrete floor. Blood staining the road. Limps ripped apart by his father. I knew that so much that my last thoughts had been about Lloyd had how he would react when he saw the scene. My mouth twitched as I stood there, next to Lloyd, in silence as my head fell. Sorry was not good enough, it would never be good enough; no apology would be good enough to start trying to make up for the time I had missed. For lying, as I knew that I wouldn't meet them back up. For everything. For leaving him alone and making him bear the world without me for so many years. For not being there for him for whatever he had to go through while I was gone; it had aged him so, I could see the aged pain in his eyes. It would never feel enough. "I'm-" And yet, somehow Lloyd turned to face me. And somehow, he came to embrace me, hugging me tightly as though he were afraid I would die again. And somehow, he managed to be near me after everything I had done. And somehow, I had a feeling, we would slowly get through this. Slowly, I wrapped Lloyd in a hug and gripped onto his gi, just as tightly. I buried my face into his shoulder as he did the same and we just stood there and hugged tightly. And everything felt right, even if it was for a brief moment. Everything felt like it had and how it should here in the Monastery, with Lloyd: It felt like home.

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scribblesofagoonerr · 3 months

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Cos' sometimes sleep isn't enough anymore | Inner Demons

⟫ Alphabet Challenge, C - Cos' sometimes sleep isn't enough anymore

Pairings: leah williamson x teen reader, arsenal wfc x teen reader

I guess I'm on a roll tonight? 3 parts posted so far, I'm not even sure how many parts this will end up with but, um, yeah, i hope you like this one and it's not to heavy to read.

Absolutely none of it's proof-read so yet again it could seem jumbled up or not even make sense but umm I can't sleep and my brain is overthinking at 4 am so this is the result of it :)

Thanks for all the continuous love and support on this so far!

Waking up in hospital, you think over your thoughts about what happened and wonder if you really did mean to do it?

tw: heavy angst, talks of SH, MH, suicide and death.

Bright lights and slow repetive beeps followed by the sterile smell of a hospital enrivoment.

That's how you knew it was bad when you woke up.

You really hadn't mean for it to get to that point though, you made the mistake of cutting deeper than you should have and now you have landed yourself in the hospital.

This was definitely not your smartest move you had pulled.

Something tells you it wouldn't be so easy to hide your pain behind a fake smile now.

You felt the wet tears covering your own hand along with the heavy weight of another body practically leaning on you.

"Geez, did somebody die in here or something?" Was the first words you spoke since you had fallen unconcious and of course, it was with your usual cocky teenage atttiude.

Dark humour has always been your go to, you hate to show any type of vulnerability.

"Y/N/N" Leah voice croaks in surprise as she sits bolt up right to look straight at you. "You're awake, finally!" she immediately breaks down into sobs again as she reaches towards you and wraps her arms around you.

"Yeah, I'm awake but there's no need to cry about it" You struck back with the same cocky atittude, that drove your team mates crazy but loved you never the less. "Seriously though, did someone die? Cos' you're crying that much right now that I'm begining to think so" you note, hiding your own pain behind the smile.

Just keep smiling, nobody will ask questions.

Everyone will think you're fine.

"Seriously, Y/N?" Leah is quick to smack you around the back of the head as she's now giving you one of her famous glares, one that you knew all too well. "You scared me to death, you little shit!" she admits, showing her vunerability.

"Ow. Ow-- Hey, you can't hit me, I'm fragile right now" You can't help but pout and hope for sympathy from the older blonde girl.

"Fragile, huh? You seem fine enough to be making jokes" Leah remarks as she continues to glare at you.

"Come on, you know that dark humour is the way to go sometimes Le" You grin at the blonde, who doesn't seem to have the same idea.

See? Totally easy to hide your pain.

Leah just stares at you in disbelief you're really cracking jokes right now, "You're unbelieve sometimes, Y/F/N" she mutters aloud.

"Uh oh, your using my full name, am I in trouble now?" You can't help to continue with your cocky, I don't give a shit attitude never the less you had worried all of your team mates like you did.

"Right now I'm just glad that you're alive," Leah admits as she rewraps her arms around you and squeezes you gently. "But if you ever scare me like that again then we'll be having a very different conversation!" she tells you, sternly.

"Okay" You wince slightly as the tightness of the hug that the blonde was very reluctant to let go off you. "Seriously, Le. I'm fine now, why are you still crying so much?" You ask, confused.

"I'm crying because I... I thought I had really lost you this time" Leah speaks her thoughts aloud as she still holds onto you like you would disappear all over again. "When I found you, like the... like the way I did, I thought you was going to die" she adds in, quietly.

Your own amused smile starts to falter as you glance down at the bandages wrapped around your arm. "I'm sorry... I am really sorry for scaring you like that" You apologise quietly, starting to realise the seriousness of it all.

You must've had all of your team mates so worried and right now you were only acting like a total jackass about it.

"I was so scared" Leah replies as she pulls away from hugging you before she readjusts to move onto the bed beside you. "There was so much blood, Y/N/N. I... I thought when we arrived at the hospital, it would be too late and I'd be saying goodbye to you instead" she explains, swallowing the lump that formed in her throat.

Shit, why did I go and do that? I've made Leah almost have a nervous break down.

How could you be so selfish? You didn't deserve the love you recieved from your team mate.

"I bet the bathrooms' a right bloody mess now then" You can't help the comment that slips out of your mouth.

Once again, dark humour is a key to hiding the reality of pain.

Leah clicks her tongue at your comment, although she can tell exactly what you're doing now.

You had been doing it all this long so easily, it was just that nobody realised it.

"Why didn't you tell me that it was getting bad again?" The blondes' question is something that catches you off guard.

Guilt-striken to hear her words, you found sudden interest with the crisp white sheets currently covering you.

There was a lot of things that you could have said, but would she want to hear any of it?

Nobody can help me with the way I feel,

I'm so tired,

I wanted to relieve the pain, I wanted a way out.

All of the questions racing through your mind, you actually began to wonder if you had cut yourself that deep on purpose? Did your own selfishness overshadow any other feelings inside of you.

The battle with your inner demons was just too much sometimes, you was just so exhausted now.

So, why couldn't you have just been left to die instead?

"What's going on inside your head, Y/N/N?" Leah's next question brought you out of your dark thoughts. "Talk to me, you know that I'm here to listen" she states with a gentle tone of voice.

Although the next words that you speak are nothing that she can be prepared to hear.

"I think... I think I wanted to die, I wanted an out on life" Your voice quivers as you admit the truth to the blonde, finally.

"W... What?" Leah looks at you with a mixture of shock and hurt.

"I'm so tired, Le-- I'm just so fuckin' tired. I... I can't do this anymore" You express your feelings as you feel yourself tearing up.

It was as if Leah hadn't quite regestered the words you had said, or she had but she refused to believe that you actually did want to try and kill yourself.

"The girls all went to get coffee, um I think that all of the girls will be back soon though" The blonde tells you quietly as she wraps her free arm around you and gives you a small smile.

Denial, it was so easy to pretend there wasn't anything to read into with your most recent confession.

"Leah--"

"I bet they'll be happy to know that you're awake now" Leah cut you off as she continues to give you that weary smile, you weren't sure if she was now clutching onto you a bit tighter in fear of you pulling another stunt like you did.

"Leah, didn't you hear me? I said I wanted to die!" You shout loud enough for her to suck in a sharp breath.

"I heard you, Y/N/N-- I heard you, I saw you, I... I was there for it all. I was the one who found you in the bathroom; You was lay in a pool of your own blood while you were slipping in and out of unconciousness" Leah broke her game of where she didn't pretend you as she turned to face you, you had her whole attention now. "I sat there, pressing a god-damn towel against your cuts, praying that you would make it and you... you tell me that you want to die? You don't get to die. You can't, we need you-- Damn it Y/N, I need you! Y... You're my family! So you don't get to tell me you want to die!" she tells you, the shake in her voice so evident that she's close to tears again.

"What? You... You want to die?" Beth broke the tense silence as she has a distraught look on her face.

"Do you really mean that?" Lia questions as her eyes widen in shock.

Neither you or Leah realise that some of the older girls had made their way back to your room, when they arrived they were delighted with the realisation that you were now finally awake after the long 24 hours but that quickly turned into shock and hurt when they heard Leah's words so boldly, that even the patients down the hall probably would've heard.

"I do, I did... I don't know. I'm tired, I can't... I can't keep doing this anymore" You admit out loud for every single one of them to hear.

You hear the blonde beside you suck in another sharp breath as she keeps her arm firmly attached round your shoulder.

The confession is left hanging in the air, leaving a tense feeling and it was suddenly so quiet that in the room that you were certain that you would even be able to hear a pin drop.

Nobody utters a word, a state of shock written across each one of their faces.

"Sometimes sleep isn't enough when it's my soul that's tired" You tell them, leaving them all stood there grief-stricken with the realisation that you really had been struggling for longer than you wanted to admit.

#arsenal x reader #woso x reader #arsenal women x reader #leah williamson #woso #woso imagine #woso fanfics #leah williamson x reader #heavy angst #woso one shot #arsenal wfc x reader

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emeraldborealis · 1 month

Text

It's The Same Things

Pairing: Ex-husband John Price x GN!reader

TW//CW: Angst? Anxiety, mention of manipulation, fluff if you squint, John is still trying to change, gender neutral pronouns but use of wife like two or three times.

A/N: I was sad I probably wouldn't get to participate in @glitterypirateduck 's O' Captain! Challenge but coincidently this works with scenario 7, Date night

Words: 7,375

You are currently reading Chapter 2

The Do-Over Series Masterlist - Chapter One - Chapter Three - Chapter Four - Chapter Five

"Yes, let's get started." He took a sip of his drink, licking his lips after. Why did he have to do things like that? He knew. You knew he knew. And he knew you knew he knew. "Question one; given the choice of anyone in the world, who would you want as a dinner guest?"

"Did you memorize thirty six questions or are you pulling these out of your ass?" You chuckled, adjusting to sit crisscrossed, slowly getting more comfortable.

"Admittedly, I memorized them." He leaned back into the couch more, manspreading. Getting himself more comfortable as well. "Now, answer the question."

"Let me think." You pondered it for a moment, thinking of all the people you could, why you'd want to have them as a dinner guest. Who's cooking this dinner? Is it just dinner? Do they have to be alive? "Um, I don't know. It depends on my mood I guess. How about you?"

"You. I'd want you to be my dinner guest." He sounded so sure of it, like it was the obvious answer. You couldn't tell if it was sincere or flattery. You couldn't fathom why out of everyone in the world he'd want you. He seemed to notice your puzzled expression. "Don't look too far into it, I just think you're good company. Entertaining."

"Alright. What's the next question?" This could be fun, this was fun. You loved questions. Loved asking them, loved people wanting to hear your answer. You need to be more optimistic, have fun with this, but remember what John is.

"Would you like to be famous? In what way?" He sat up, leaning his elbows on his knees, curious about your answer.

"I've always thought it could be fun to be an actor. Have fans and go to conventions and be asked questions. It just seems kind of fun, for the most part at least." You shrugged, putting your arms back on the cushions of the couch. "You?"

"Don't want to be famous. Seems like a hassle. If I got famous in my career that would probably mean something bad." He leaned back again, finishing off his drink and putting the glass down on the coffee table. "Before making a telephone call, do you ever rehearse what you are going to say? Why?"

"Every time. Like, every time. I have anxiety." He'd known the answer to this one, he'd watched you do it several times while you were married. It was another thing about you he thought was endearing.

"I don't typically rehearse, but I do collect my thoughts before making calls. There's no point in calling if I'm not going to get to the point and waste time with being a blubbering muppet." That checked out. He was never one to beat around the bush.

"I miss having you order for me at restaurants. That was nice. Or when you'd ask people where things were for me." The previous tension was dissipating, things were quickly feeling like old times. Walls be damned, he was busting through. You were thankful for the layers and labyrinth of defenses you'd learned to build.

"I remember doing that. You were such a nervous thing in public, funny you would want to be famous." He chuckled, recalling all the ways he'd served you and tried to make you comfortable. "What would constitute a perfect day for you?"

"Like a normal day or an activity filled day? Are we talking my perfect mundane day or my 'if money was no object' day?" You asked to clarify.

He thought for a moment, thinking it through, considering how he would like to answer the question himself. "Somewhere in between."

"Okay." You fiddled with the hem of your shirt while you thought. "It'd start with sleeping in, but not too much. Then I'd have breakfast with someone I care about, and leisure around, then go to a park or for a walk or something where I can just talk and spend time with someone, maybe play games, any game would be fun. Just not Clue. Then a scenic drive with good music, if the weather permits, with the windows down. And I'd like to end the day snuggled up in a blanket watching fireworks or stargazing. That would be an achievable perfect day for me."

"Sounds like a good day." He hummed, nodding his head softly. "My perfect day would just be spending time with someone I care about, doing what they want to do."

You laughed at his answer, not taking it seriously. Making him frown softly. "You not caring about what you're doing? Last I checked, that was your nightmare. Not having a plan or control."

"A lot about me has changed. I don't need constant total control anymore. I'm learning to let someone else decide things, to have a say in what goes on when I can. I've found it's really freeing and destressing to not be in control and go with the flow." He defended his answer, nudging your shoulder to try and keep things light. Understanding your reaction.

"Okay, okay. A lot of time has passed. People can change. So, I'll accept your answer." You still found it a little hard to believe, but you've changed a lot too. Maybe he did enjoy being pulled along now, not having to have his brain on all the way and on high alert. Taking joy from some little things. Domestic loving things.

"You'll accept my answer? I wasn't aware you had a say in my answers." His chuckle rumbled through his chest again, making you laugh along, when you did he couldn't stop the smile from creeping up his face. It'd been so many years since he'd heard you genuinely laugh.

"Surprise." You pushed his knee teasingly as you kept laughing. He tried his best to memorize every detail of you in this moment. Tried to remember everything about the second first date with his future wife. There was no way he'd mess this up again. No way he'd let you be the one that got away.

"When did you last sing to yourself and to someone else?" He asked the next question, offering you his hand to help pull you up onto the couch, noticing you weren't very comfortable on the hard floor. There was plenty of room on the couch, he'd remember his manners. He wouldn't bite.

"I sang to myself while I cleaned the house today. I don't recall when I last sang to someone else, definitely in the last few weeks. I think." You were never one to sing for others, whether or not they thought you sang well or not.

"I miss when you'd sing to me. In the car, or late at night when neither of us could sleep, when I'd curl up with my head on your lap and you'd play with my hair and sing to me. I miss having that privilege to enjoy that part of you." The way John would recall things to you always made them sound more pleasant than they really were. More special.

Maybe that part of your relationship was special.

Worthy of being sacred and kept away from the rot of bad memories and hard times that took over the relationship. The pain and ache that seeped into your bones that would act up whenever you were around him. Like he was a storm, you knew when he was coming from the preemptive pain, the warning in your joints.

You couldn't even remember why you ever trusted him that much. Actually gave him those pieces of you. Gave him every piece of you. You were so naive to the ways of the world. When you are born in a burning house you think the whole world is on fire. Think it's just the way life is, to burn and let yourself be consumed by that fire.

But the whole world isn't on fire, and you know now you don't have to live your life suffocating in the smoke of a fire someone else started, that someone else is feeding.

You don't have to burn to prove that you're alive.

"What about you? When did you sing last?" You asked curiously, trying to remind yourself why you need to keep John at a distance.

"I sang to myself last night. I think the last time I sang to someone else was you, at least the last time I remember singing to someone else. You know I don't sing often." John's singing was a little treat only you were ever given the privilege of hearing, and it really was a privilege.

"What'd you sing to yourself last night?" You were curious, couldn't stop yourself from asking. Even if you had a feeling he was baiting you into asking.

"I sang that song you were always singing to me, no matter how much I look I can't find a version that sounds like how you used to sing it. However, I know the words by heart, so whenever I need that calming memory I sing it to myself." He was trying to show his new effort he was willing to put into your relationship, he was trying to confide in you and admit how much you meant to him.

"You do? Really?" The entire idea didn't make sense to you, it completely went against the mental image of John you'd learned to view in your mind's eye. It didn't feel right thinking he was human too.

Though you'd always known he was human, nothing more nothing less. You'd learned to view him as less. It was easier to justify a beast's actions when they're cruel than a man's, a man who was supposed to be soft and gentle, a man who was supposed to love you how you needed him to.

"Love, I can recall just about every time you sang it for me." His eyes were so soft, you had to remind yourself that that was just the way they were shaped, his features in general were just soft. He was molded so perfectly into a man who looks like being loved by him would be a gift. It wasn't.

It was like performing CPR on someone who's been dead for several days now, rigor mortis had already set in and passed, with each passing moment more dirt was being put atop the grave of what used to be, and if you weren't careful you'd both be buried with it trying to bring it back to life.

Dead things needed to stay dead.

"I didn't know it meant that much to you." Your admission forced you to think about it more, to remember how he'd be able to breathe deeply, how you could watch him visibly untense and relax, how he'd hum along. How deep his voice would get in those quiet, secret moments.

"If you were able to live to the age of ninety and either retain the mind or body of a thirty-year-old for the last sixty years of your life, which would you choose?" His next question brought you out of your sudden wandering of thoughts into memories.

"Probably body, my bodies already got enough issues, not really looking forward to seeing how it continues to degenerate with age." You forced a small laugh, trying to stop viewing him how you once viewed him. He's changed now, you need to view him as he is now. See him as a new person.

A new person with a history you couldn't just erase from your mind.

"I'd keep my mind. I can endure anything as long as I'm still aware of who I am, and who the few people I care about are. I don't want to forget the things I love." John was still a man who liked control, he needed to maintain some semblance of it, needed to know that at any moment he could take the reins. Most importantly he needed to be in control of himself, who he is, who he was, and who he will become.

"We'd be a funny combination to see, a young fellow with an old man, the old one being the conscious of the two." You chuckled, imagining how funny it could be, but then you started thinking about it more, a fear blossoming in your chest. "I don't want to get old. I don't want to forget things, I don't want to be aware of my body dying and giving out. Not being aware of it almost sounds worse though. Dying isn't really scary to me, but the things that come with age do. So, I hope I die before then."

"I'd take care of you." John put his hand on your knee, he wasn't trying to push boundaries, he was just trying to comfort you. Put pause in your racing thoughts. All your doubts, all your fears.

"You'd probably be dead by then." You pulled away from him, removing his hand from your knee. You couldn't let him close again. You didn't like the thought of him being there when you weren't mentally. So, you removed him from the mental picture. Anyway you could.

He couldn't be in control of you, he couldn't make decisions for you. He couldn't choose what was best for you. He wasn't allowed to decide to end or prolong your life. It was your life. You didn't want to think about the choices he'd make for you. He wouldn't be there. He'd be dead. He wouldn't be left with the home of your soul but not your mind.

"I think we should skip the next question." He rested his hands on his knees, he seemed almost small in this moment. His voice carried a meekness you'd only heard a few times before. He was hurt.

"Okay, then what's the next question you'd like to ask?" You hadn't meant to hurt him. You hated hurting people. Hated knowing you were the cause of someone else's pain.

This was once again not going well. You didn't have to look hard for the reasons this wouldn't work out. There was just too much history to be able to ignore it. Too much you'd both done.

"Name three things you and your partner appear to have in common." He seemed a bit more hopeful with this, a turning page, a way away from what the last question had dug up. A step away from the skeletons and fragments of wooden casket left from your last relationship.

He wasn't trying to resuscitate your past relationship, he was trying to start a new one. A new relationship with someone he already loves, someone he already knows how to love.

"Three? Okay, let me think." You pondered it, trying to think of things you had in common. "We both prefer to watch movies over sports, we both hate when people rub it in when we lose, and we both like games where everyone works together against the game to win." You smiled softly when you successfully thought of three things, it was a little easier than you thought it'd be. You just had to remember the good moments you had.

"Game nights with your family were actually a nightmare. I've had missions that have threatened my life less." His small smile was back now, his cheeks soft and round, his facial hair making his cheeks look bigger. He looked so harmless smiling like that. You knew better though.

"Oh please, they were only that bad sometimes." You rolled your eyes at him. "You get used to it, it doesn't phase you after a while. Besides, that's why I moved away in the first place. One visit every year or two is manageable. Gives time to allow distance to let fondness grow. It's your turn to answer the question." You nudged his shoulder, curious about what he would come up with.

"Alright, let me think. We both liked when you'd dump info on me about the plots of things you were into." He adjusted on the couch to fully face you, his arm resting on the back cushions, his head resting on his hand.

"You liked that? I thought you would get annoyed with me sometimes when I'd do that." His answer was surprising to you, you'd never known he'd enjoyed when you'd ramble on and on to him. You adjusted, matching his position, mirroring him.

"Hindsight is twenty twenty, my dear. I look back at it fondly. Didn't you just say distance brings fondness?" He had the audacity to use your words to prove his point. "More than once Johnny or Kyle have been saying something and I've only understood it because of you."

"Who's Johnny and Kyle?" You ask curiously, not following, but finding it somewhat sweet that in a roundabout way you've helped him bond with people.

"My boys, my team." He explained, with how soft his expression was you could only imagine how much he cared for his team. He'd always been one to get attached. "You made me a better soldier by helping me remember my humanity."

Taking in his words a piece of yourself felt a little bit better, a warmth in your heart, like it was remembering how to beat properly. Beat with a sense of pride. "What are the other two things we have in common?" You didn't plan on letting him stop at three, you were too curious about what he would say.

"We both like live music, and neither of us like to sleep with socks on and are adamant about it." He listed the other two things, teasingly grabbing your foot and shaking it before letting go, playing with you, swatting at his hand, you returned the playfulness. "What do you feel most grateful for in your life?"

"Probably the people who have helped me learn and grow, the people who have supported me and made me feel of worth." Your answer seemed a bit basic to you, but it was truthful.

"I'd say the same." John agreed, nodding his head softly. "If you could change anything about the way you were raised, what would it be?"

"That's a really deeply personal hard question." You weren't sure you wanted to answer it, weren't sure if you could pick just one thing, weren't sure you could stop yourself from spilling out too much of yourself to him again. He knew the story of your childhood and youth, nothing had changed.

"You don't have to answer it if you don't want to." His reassurance almost caught you off guard, he seemed more understanding now than he used to be. He didn't want you to have to dig up anything painful for you.

You took a deep breath, letting out a heavy sigh. "It's okay, I'll just be brief. I would have liked to have more friends around my age, to have been properly socialized. Not just have adults to talk to or try to play with. I wish that part of my development had gone better, instead of how it did. It's just something I have to live with everyday. Seeing people but feeling like there's something between us, like a glass barrier. Like everyone knows I was the kid no one wanted to talk to. The weird kid in the weird family."

John's hand reached for your knee again, but he stopped short, letting it fall on the cushion between you two, there if you wanted it, but at a distance. "I'm sorry."

"Not your fault." You put your hand over his, he turned his over and held yours gently but reassuringly.

"Even still." He squeezed your hand softly. "I wish I'd had someone to tell me that they were proud of me, that I was doing well." His words made a part of you hurt. He'd never had support in his youth.

"I think we could have worked out, like really worked out, if I just wasn't me, and you weren't you. If we weren't children raised like adults. If we'd been given a better start, a fighting chance. If we knew how to be healthy for ourselves, we could have been healthy for each other." You squeezed his hand back before slipping out of his grip, pulling your hand back.

"I don't want to answer the next question, so we'll skip it." He looked down at his now empty hand, the feeling of you pulling away again eating at him. He needed to be able to keep you. He was nothing but an empty cage without you.

"Then we'll skip it, whatever it is, we can skip it. We can make the rules to this game, we don't have to do anything either of us don't want to." You gave him the same out he'd given you. Frankly, if it was a question he didn't want to answer you didn't really want to know what it was.

"If you could wake up tomorrow having gained any one quality or ability, what would it be?" John asked another question, a small smile coming to his face as he adjusted once again on the couch, scooting slightly closer to you.

"Telekinesis would be super useful." You didn't even have to think about it, but then a sudden embarrassing realization hit you. "Or.. did you not mean a superpower?"

He chuckled at your eager answer. "I was more so thinking of a skill, but superpower works too, love."

"Well, if it's a skill I'd probably pick something like learning an instrument or being able to create something useful. Or like how to fix something." You gave him another answer, still feeling a little stupid for taking it wrong.

"I think invincibility would be a very useful superpower." He smiled at you, giving his answer, he didn't want you to feel like an idiot for taking the question another way. "But skill wise, I've always thought sculpting looks fun, or woodwork. I watched a man carve out a canoe from a big piece of wood in a documentary once."

"Not you and your documentaries. Gosh, those were all you'd watch when I didn't pick a show or movie. That and those survival shows." You laughed, teasing him.

"Knowledge is power, my dear. You never know when you'll need to know something." The possessive pet name made your chest feel tight. You could feel John breaking through another wall, making his way through the labyrinth of your defenses. He wouldn't stop till he held your heart again, or died trying to.

"Okay, well when I'm lost in the woods and need to know how to survive and build a canoe I'll call you." You moved to be sitting on your legs, moving closer to John in the process, a wolfish grin spreading across his face.

"If you're lost in the woods and call me I'll just come get you." He chuckled, his eyes taking in your new sitting position. "If a crystal ball could tell you the truth about yourself, your life, the future or anything else, what would you want to know?"

"'Am I genuinely a good person?' Or, maybe something like 'what is a simple thing to do or change about me that would positively impact those around me?' there's also you know... more materialistic thinking of 'what can I invest in that will make me rich beyond my wildest dreams?'" You listed off a few things, finding this question a lot of fun.

"I would ask for guidance on how to fix my wrongs." He seemed genuine, if not a bit sad. He really had changed, and he really was still trying to change. He wanted to make amends.

"I think most people would like an answer to that." You nodded in understanding. "Do you think all wrongs can be fixed? Be forgiven?"

"I'd hope so. If not, there's still a point in trying, don't you think?" It was a sad thought thinking you could never right some wrongs, that all the bad things you've done would just always be there, always haunt you.

"Yeah, I'd hope so too. I think there's always a point to try and become better. Even if you're not forgiven." Forgiving yourself for the wrongs you've done was half the battle, allowing yourself to move on. Letting yourself let go of some of the weight and burden of hating yourself for something that you'd done.

He nodded, seeming to think it over for a moment. "Is there something that you've dreamed of doing for a long time? Why haven't you done it?"

"There's a lot of things I've always wanted to do, sometimes life, money, and even other people get in the way. Maybe one of these days I'll be able to get a few things off my bucket list." You felt like a lot of people had things they dreamed of doing, some things just needed to find a window of opportunity to actually do.

And sometimes some things just aren't meant to be, life's rejections are sometimes protection. You tried to remember that.

"Can I tell you something stupid?" He leaned in closer, a mischief to him you'd only seen a few times. When you nodded he continued. "I think it would be fun to swing on a chandelier, but I wouldn't want to break one." His confession made you burst out laughing.

"I've always wanted to do that too! But yeah, I don't think it's 'socially acceptable'." There were lots of things you would do if you wouldn't be judged for them. "If you ever find a chandelier on a deployment you could do it, I mean no one would know if you broke it or if a stray bullet did."

"I don't mess around in the field. Learned my lesson a long time ago." He shook his head softly. "What is your life's greatest accomplishment?"

You tapped on your lips in thought, trying to think about it. "That's a hard question, maybe sticking with things? Seeing them through till the end. I don't want to choose just one thing, since I've done a lot. But none of it would have been possible without the desire to finish them. So, my resilience?"

"Works for me." He smiled. "Sometimes I wonder how I was ever able to get you to marry me in the first place, so I'd say that. Even though we didn't last forever, I still had you for a time, and I think that was my life's greatest accomplishment."

"Not being captain? Or any of the medals or anything?" You were surprised that he saw his time with you as his greatest accomplishment.

"No. Being with you proved I at least had good taste once." He was trying to flatter you, it was working. A warmth spreading through your chest, you could feel it creeping out through the rest of your body, he seemed proud of himself for getting this reaction from you. "What do you value most in a friendship?"

"Communication and understanding." You'd thought about this a lot over your life, took notice of what worked and what didn't work in past and current friendships. "Also, you know, I appreciate when people don't become my friend because they want something from me."

"I agree, those things are what I'd say are most important." He gave a little nod, happy you were on the same page about this. "What is your most treasured memory?"

Your face lit up as you remembered something. "Do you remember when we went to the theater to watch that movie? I don't remember what movie it was, but it was awful. Like really bad. And so we ended up talking through it, whispering and laughing back and forth."

"Yes, I remember that." He softened, recalling the date with you.

"I remember it was just us and one other person in the whole theater. And he got up and he complained about us, and we got kicked out of the movie. I remember being so grateful because I did not want to watch that movie anymore but I didn't want to say anything." You continued to recollect your past date.

"Why didn't you say anything? I would have been okay with walking out. It was a cheap showing." He laughed, finding your eagerness in retelling this story to him despite the fact he was there cute.

"Anyways, then we went and we got ice cream together, and we drove out to the secluded park with all the trees and we parked there to make out in the car like teenagers. Then that police officer came up to your window, tapped on it a few times. And he said that we can't be doing what we were doing in a public place, it was 'indecent'." You rolled your eyes at that.

"I was so mad. I was not going to be very nice to him, but I restrained myself, as far as I remember." John was enjoying watching you get so animated about this.

"I don't think I'll ever forget what you said to him, you said 'I spend enough time away from my wife, I'm not going to waste a single second not loving them when I'm with them.' I knew then that I would love you forever. But somewhere between then and our divorce, you stopped loving me like that. And I knew it was time to say goodbye. Knew we were already over." You looked down at your hands, the memory turning sour.

"I never stopped loving you like that. I just- I forgot how to let go of myself to remember how to treat you like that. Things got tense between us. I'm sorry for perpetuating that rather than fixing it." He was so sincere in his words, in his regret.

"What about you? What's your favorite memory?" You let it go, you didn't want to rehash things.

"It was right after I'd gotten home from a longer deployment, I'd gotten home in the middle of the night, and you were so tired. You'd slept in till noon, head on my chest. I didn't feel like I could sleep yet, still too stuck in work mode. I committed your face to memory, the way your mouth was slightly open, drooling on my shirt. You soaked right through. I'll never forget the feeling of that damp spot from your drool on my chest." He seemed to think of this fondly, but you were horrified.

"I drooled on you? And you let me? I'm so sorry, that's so gross. Why didn't you move me? Didn't you think that was gross?" You couldn't stop wondering how often you drooled in your sleep now, how often you'd drooled on him.

"You were asleep, it's not as if you did it on purpose." He seemed so unfazed by it, like it was perfectly normal. Which only added to your horror. How many times had you done this? Why did his favorite memory have to be one where you were so... human.

"Out of everything that's really your most treasured memory?" You couldn't fathom why.

"Yes, it was a very simple relaxing moment. You were safe, I was safe. It was just us two in our bed. No one else, nothing else. Everything was at peace. Because of you I was at peace." You hadn't thought of it like that. "What is your worst memory?"

"What the hell kind of question is that? Let's bring up something happy and then immediately bring up something so traumatic and mind altering it's to the point it plagues your consciousness." You made fun of the question, making John chuckle and shake his head.

"You don't have to answer it." He reminded you.

"Well, it's too late. I've already thought about it." You sighed. "When I was around thirteen I just wanted to fit in, be like the other kids. I was tired of being seen as weird. I was tired of wearing second hand clothes, so I asked my mom for something in style, she got upset, I mean money was tight. I understood that. But, she looked me dead in the eyes." You paused, closing your eyes for a moment refusing to let yourself get emotional.

John took your hand, squeezing it softly, he'd never heard this story before. "And?" He prompted softly.

"And, she told me that I did not deserve nice things, that I wasn't worth nice things." You finished. "I know she just meant clothes, or something. I don't know. But it's always stuck with me, more than any other hellish thing people have said to me. It's weaseled it's way a little too far in my mind. Spread into everything. Poisoned my perception of what I'm allowed to let myself have."

"Love, look at me." He gently tipped your head up to look at him, looking into your eyes. "You are worthy of nice things. You deserve nice things. You deserve whatever is best for you. I'm sorry. I'm sure there's more to that story or ideation than you said, but you don't have to tell me. It's okay."

"I guess it's your turn to tell me your worst memory. Maybe we should have skipped this question after all." You laughed a little, trying to pretend you weren't just getting emotional, trying to not let it hurt again.

You were trying not to let something that would hurt him slip out of you. You couldn't say more, if you did you'd be too honest. You'd twist the knife you were sure you'd already left in his heart.

"When you handed me the divorce papers. I remember that day in such vivid detail. Fuck, I'm sorry. For everything. All the things I said when I realized it was over, there's no excuse for it. I'm sorry. I don't even remember all I said, I just remember this buzzing in my head, and your face. I remember your expression." He stopped himself from saying more. Too much guilt eating away at him.

"We should have skipped this question." You decided, looking away from him for a moment. "What's the next one?"

"Um, what does friendship mean to you?" You were surprised you actually got John to a point where he used a filler word. He never used filler words, you were sure for so many years that he was incapable of using them seriously. That he had trained himself out of using them.

"It means everything, I believe any successful healthy relationship should first be built upon friendship. How can you be with someone who isn't your friend too?" Sometimes the thing you missed most about John was his friendship, he was a good friend, your best friend at one point.

"Trust often comes with friendship, so it's really important to me. I need people to trust me so they'll listen to me." He collected himself once more, standing up he took his glass into the kitchen before coming back with it half full, probably all that was left in the bottle.

"That makes sense, I can see how it could affect how well the job gets done without that level of trust." You nodded, letting him settle back into his spot on the couch. "Do you consider your team as your friends?"

"I'd say so, they're good lads. Stressful, reckless at times, they keep me on my toes. But yes, I'd say they're friends. To a point. Not people I'd go to about my personal life." He explained their relationship, taking a sip from his glass.

"Do you have any friends you can talk about your personal life with?" You were curious if he had any kind of actual support system, he was never the best at those kinds of friendships. He saw the allies he could call for help in a fight as close enough to that.

"No. I don't." You couldn't view him as your responsibility, couldn't offer yourself to him in that way just because he didn't have anyone else, but that horrible part of yourself that needed you to give yourself away and fix people was begging for someone to take care of. People aren't projects, you have to remind yourself that.

Especially not John. The only person capable of fixing John was John. If you ever tried he'd tear you apart, the last time you tried you were the one who needed the fixing. Or maybe you needed fixing the whole time. It's hard to say.

"I'm sorry. I try not to talk to people about my issues, I always regret it after I say something. People talk, views change, it's more trouble for me than it's worth. But I know you're more social than I am, I know you like to talk to people, even if it's not necessarily about your problems, you just like talking about life." You felt bad for him, you hoped he wasn't isolating himself.

"It's alright, love. Not your fault." He pat your shoulder, making you playfully roll your eyes. You were about to say something, but he cut you off. "What roles do love and affection play in your life?"

"Every role? I try to love everyone, try to understand they're human and flawed, just as I am. I love the idea of love, I like loving people. And you know I'm an affectionate person." You picked at your nails a little as you answered.

"Your version of affection is a bit unconventional, but it's still endearing." The jest in his voice did little to amuse you.

"Gee, thanks." You were deadpan with him, making him chuckle and shake his head, before finishing his glass and putting it down. "Just answer the question."

"It was supposed to be a compliment." He clarified. "Love and affection don't play as much of a role in my life as I would like. I would like to love more than I ever have, and I'd like to actually express that love rather than assume it's just understood without action."

"Maybe you should love 'your boys'." You snickered, hiding your mischievous smile behind your hand.

"I suppose you think you're terribly clever." He scooted closer to you, testing how comfortable you were with him getting closer.

"I don't think-" He cut you off before you could finish your sentence.

"Clearly. Completely hollow up here" He softly knocked on your skull, making you scoff in mock hurt, laughing from his unserious attack.

"Okay, rude. What's the next question?" You absentmindedly scooted closer to him, when he put his arm on the back of the couch you came closer, sitting on your calves and facing him.

"It's more of an activity, we're supposed to take turns sharing positive characteristics about the other." He explained. "I'll go first, you're one of the fastest learners I know."

"I thought I was stupid?" You teased, a bit smugly.

"I lied." He sighed, but he didn't actually seem annoyed or upset.

"So, now we're lying?" You pushed, making him give you a look of warning not to go there. "Okay, okay. You're charming. In your own way."

"That sounds like a backhanded compliment, but I digress. You're passionate about things you like or care about." He relaxed again, moving slightly closer, your knees touching his thighs now. The touch was distracting you, how right it felt. How wrong you've felt going so long without him.

"You are too." It was an easy answer, one you didn't have to think about much, a cop out. But still an honest answer.

"You are a calming person, you're easy to be around." You smiled softly at his words, leaning into him a little.

"You never give up, you're persistent and you achieve your goals." Both of you were more relaxed now, sinking into each other. Getting ever closer. You couldn't even hear the alarms going off in your mind, choosing to ignore them to just have a nice moment.

"How do you feel about your relationship with your mother?" His question ruined everything, reminding you to keep your guard up, to remember this was still the same John Price you were once married to, even if he wanted to act changed.

"Really? We're bringing up my mother again? Okay, it's complicated. I still love her, and I understand that she was the way she was while I was growing up because of her own trauma, but at the same time, I was just a kid and didn't deserve the things I went through because of her." You sat up more, pulling away from him, keeping your knees touching his thighs.

He didn't say anything about you pulling away, he tried not to show his disappointment. "It's just the next question. I'm answering it too. I love my mother, she worries about me a lot. But we're not close. Never have been overly close."

"Okay, fine. Next question." You just wanted to move on, family was a hard topic, you didn't like to linger on it.

"There's only a few questions left, most of them are like the characteristic activity, which we can skip. The next question is, when did you last cry to someone else and when did you last cry to yourself?" He didn't really think this question was any better than the last, he still asked it though, these were questions that were supposed to bring the two of you closer. They were supposed to make you fall in love again, or at least maybe help resolve something.

"I don't know when I last cried to someone else, I try not to do that. It's been a while since I've cried in general. I think I've been suppressing my feelings and emotions. I don't really know how to stop though." You confessed, confiding in him.

"That's okay, you'll cry when you need to." He pat your shoulder comfortingly. "It's been a while since I last cried to myself and even longer since I cried to someone else."

"The day we learn to feel our emotions properly is probably the day the world ends." You joked, making him chuckle.

"Probably. Alright, love, what, if anything, is too serious to joke about?" He asked curiously.

"Dark humor has its time and place, and of course coping through humor is a thing, context is also important. However, human trafficking is hardly ever funny, in any time or place. You know, like the really serious stuff like that I don't really find funny." You felt that was a pretty reasonable answer.

"I can't argue with that." He agreed. "Last question. Your house, containing everything you own, catches fire. After saving your loved ones, you have time to safely make a final dash to save any one item. What would it be? Why?"

"Just one thing? Probably my keepsake box, it has everything important to me in it. It also has my birth certificate and that kind of stuff in it." There was so much importance in one small box, losing it would be the worst thing ever. "And you?"

His face softened as he thought about it. "My ring, I would want to go back for my ring."

"You still have your ring?" Your voice was soft as you asked the question. It shouldn't have been as surprising to you as it was, a part of you was internally preening, but another part of you was devastated by hearing that.

He still had his ring, he was still holding on to what was. He was still holding onto you. John Price still saw you as the person he promised to love, to have and to hold, for as long as you both shall live.

"Do you?" He asked curiously, leaning in a little closer to your face, trying to read every possible emotion and thought you could be having.

"Maybe somewhere, it was really nice, so it's probably in a box or something. You know I struggle with getting rid of nice things." You fiddled with your fingers a bit nervously, you weren't expecting him to turn the question back on you and had to scramble for an answer.

"I remember well how much you struggle with getting rid of nice things." He chuckled a little, watching your hands fiddle. When you were married you'd play with your wedding ring, but you hadn't made a habit of wearing rings since the divorce.

You perked up a little at the thought of a question coming to your mind. "Okay, you've asked me many questions, and we've both answered them. Now, I have just one question for you, when we ran into each other again, was that really a coincidence? Be honest."

John contemplated it, running his hand over his facial hair. Thinking about how he wanted to answer this. What truth or deception could give him in the long run. Whether or not he was ready to give you this answer yet. Honesty was important, more now than ever.

"No."

Tags: @waiting-so-long @little-laamb

#ocaptainchallenge #x reader #oneshot #reader insert #gender neutral reader #cod fandom #cod #angst #cod fanfic #john price #john price cod #captain john price #captain price #captain johnathan price #john price x reader #captain john price x reader

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cottagecheese1 · 1 year

Note

Oh oh, what a platonic request where steve rogers meets his orphaned shy five years old grand grands Grand- niece, reader

Can you say Hello?

Summary - Steve finally meets his grand niece you, but he didn't know you would be so little.

Warnings - Nothing, just fluff really and a little angst

Paring- Steve Rogers x child niece reader

Steve didn't have any more family. Well, not that he knew of, after he came out of the ice and as he continued living in the present day, he learned that all his family had passed on, and even most of the people he knew except Bucky.

So you can say he was pretty surprised when he got a call from an unknown number on his phone. Steve was contemplating picking up the unrecognized number, but what was the worst that could happen? That the person on the other line tries to get his credit card number? Yea, right.

Although he was pretty contempt with learning to live like that, he would still lay down in his bed at night and wonder what would have happened if he didn't take the serum and got to live his life so Steve could pass on with the rest of his family and friends.

Steve glanced at his screen one more time before hitting the green answer button. Holding the phone up to his ear, "Hello?" Steve waited patiently for someone on the other end to answer until a voice finally came up, "Hello? Is this Steve Rogers?".

Steve furrowed his eyebrows curiously, holding his phone tighter, becoming more engrossed in the conversation.

"Uh, yes, it is. Who is this?

He heard the voice on the other end give a relieved sigh.

"Thank God. I've been trying to get a hold of you forever. My name is Jessica Marfield. I am the owner of Mar's Orphanage"

That's weird. Steve wasn't looking to adopt any kids.

"Ma'am I think you're confused, I haven't called looking to adopt any kids."

Hearing a slight chuckle on the other side of the phone, he was also confused. Now he was just waiting for another response.

"No sir, we actually contacted you because we have a little girl who's about five that recently came in that seems to be your niece, and you’re the only known relative that's she has that's alive."

Steve paused, not for a second a long time. He couldn't believe it, but at the same time, Steve felt excitement and joy at the thought of a little girl that's related to him. Maybe he wasn't alone after all.

"Can I meet her? Well, I-I mean, could I schedule some time when I can meet her?"

"Oh yes, of course, Mr. Rogers, whatever time works for you. And of course, if you meet her and you would like to get guardian ship, we could go through that process also."

At this point, Steve was ecstatic. He quickly got up from his bed with a huge grin on his face. Holding the phone up to his ear again, he began to speak.

"Yes, um, how about tomorrow at 1:00?"

"Of course, Mr. Rogers, I'll put it right in my notes! She's a little shy, but I'm sure she will quickly warm up to you."

Steve quickly gave a quick 'thank you' and hung up the phone. He laid on his bed with the biggest grin on his face. After setting his alarm and finally getting ahold of his excitement, he was finally able to go to sleep.

---------------------Next day------------------------

When Steve woke up, he was probably the happiest he'd been in weeks, so when Steve went downstairs to get breakfast at the compound, everyone looked at him a little funny, considering he was unusually bubbly at this time in the morning.

Natasha eyed the blonde haired man suspiciously until she started speaking.

"Whats got you so happy, captain?"

Steve looked at her and tried not to smile, but the more he tried to suppress his grin, the wider his smile got.

"Well, I'm going to an orphanage and meeting my niece. And she's about five, so I guess I'm pretty excited. It's been a while since I had any family around, ya know?"

Natasha gave Steve a sympathetic smile and gave him a pat on the shoulder when she walked past him.

"Well, I'm happy for you, Steve. I think you'll both love each other"

Steve leaned against the counter, "I already do".

-----------------At the orphanage------------------

When Steve pulled into the Driveway and found a parked spot, he grabbed the white teddy bear from the backseat and took a deep breath. He looked up at the orphanage, and he was ready. But also very nervous.

Walking through the front doors confidentiality, he went up to the front desk and said he had an appointment to see you. The lady tapped on her keyboard and looked back up at him.

"Yea, you have a time scheduled to meet (y/n) at 1:00 correct?"

Steve didn't know her name, but he was pretty sure that was it, but even then, Steve knew she would have a beautiful name. The lady led Steve to a room filled with tons of little kids. Some of them were coloring, painting, playing dress up, and playing with a variation of different toys. It all just made him a little more excited at the wholesome sight.

"Wait, right here, Mr. Rogers, I'll have to get her quiet little self out of that corner she's always in."

Steves eyes followed the lady to the little girl who did look around five. He noticed she was coloring while sitting down in a princess chair, fidgeting with her fingers nervously as she glanced at me and back at the woman.

The little girl got up slowly and walked in front of the lady while she held her small shoulders softly. Once she made her way over to the door frame, where I was at, we all walked in the hallway. She stood silently, glancing at me once in a while.

"Can you say you say hello?"

She turned to the lady behind her once again and spoke.

"Is he my Daddy..."

I chuckled a little before the woman spoke up with a slight smile on her face.

"No, he isn't your daddy. I'm sorry, sweetheart, but he is your uncle. I'm sure you'll love him."

Steve gave a small frown at the sight, adverting her eyes down while she gave a soft 'oh' and played with her small fingers nervously. Steve knelt down to her level. He held out the white bear towards her while she stared at it.

"I got this for you. Do you like stuffies?"

He saw her give a small smile while nodding her head, looking up at him for reassurance that she was allowed to take the teddy bear.

"Go ahead, you can take it, angel, what's your name hun?

She took the white bear while giving a small thank you.

"y/n.." she said softly.

"That's a beautiful name, y/n, I'm Steve it's really nice to finally meet you"

The small girl giggled and hid her slightly red face with her hands. Steve couldn't help but pull her into a hug. He still couldn't believe how he actually still had family. Especially a little cutie like you.

Wrapping her little arms around, Steves neck and hugging as tight as she possibly could. Steve picked her up, rubbing circles on her back until he felt sniffles against his shoulder.

"Aw sweetie, why are you crying, baby?"

She looked up at him with puffy eyes and just gave him lots of "Tank you's." Steve cooed and wiped her puffy eyes. Until she spoke again.

"Cause you wan me"

Steve was positive his heart broke when she said that, moving her long hair out of her face, giving her a peck to her forehead.

"Aw, I love you so much, sweetie."

"Tank you, Stevie.."

The woman in front of me teared up but started to speak.

"Y/n, would you like to live with Stevie?" She quickly nodded her head but shortly rubbed her eyes tiredly while yawning.

The woman chuckled and walked over to me, "it's almost her nap time anyway, I'll go get the paperwork, and you guys stay here. Trust me, she'll out in a couple of minutes."

Steve laughed and gave a quick ok and felt the pressure of the small girls head on his shoulder, her face tucked into the crook of his neck. Well, I guess she would be out in a couple of minutes.

---------------------time skip-----------------------

Once Steve filled out the paperwork and got her stuff, some people came over to check if his living area and house were acceptable, he slowly picked the girl up and carried her to his bedroom where she would sleep until he could get her a bed.

When Steve laid her down softly and tucked the covers under her chin, laying the white teddy bear beside her, he bent down and gave her a quick peck on her forehead.

And at that moment, Steve knew everything at that point on would be ok.

A/n: This request was kinda cute, so I decided to finally finish something that was in my drafts.

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beom-pyu · 11 months

Text

my wips! ★⋆⁺˚⋆｡ °₊*️

see what's coming soon:

(more under the cut!)

I CAN'T SWIM, IDIOT (choi beomgyu x fem!reader) POSTED.

SYNOPSIS:

your best friend just so happens to enter you both into a married-couple-greece-resort-stay-all-expenses-paid giveaway hosted by some random insurance company he found on twitter. but those things are always scams—there's no way you'd end up having to pretend to be beomgyu's wife for one week in a foreign country. and there's absolutely no way you'd end up seeing your childhood best friend in a different light after your stay. nope—not a chance.

RESET (kang taehyun x fem!reader)

coworkers to lovers, rivals to lovers, fluff, comedy, smut

SYNOPSIS:

working as a game developer has been your dream for years. you fought long and hard to work your way up to the top, and you've finally secured a stable, well-paying position at one of the lead gaming companies in the country. things are going well—until your head hires a new programmer to work alongside you for a new campaign. while you are excited to see fresh faces in the office, a problem quickly arises—you can't seem to get along with your counterpart. his know-it-all attitude rubs you the wrong way from the very beginning, and each day, you find it harder and harder to get anything done when he's over your shoulder, critiquing your every move. you don't know how much longer you can put up with his nagging until you downright lose your mind... and maybe your job as well.

(current word count: 3.24k)

TEASER:

“um, hello! nice to meet you. i’m y/n y/l/n, lead character designer,” you introduce yourself with a small bow, looking up to see taehyun smiling at you with those pretty wide eyes.

“i specialize in character design as well. i guess we’ll be working side by side this year,” taehyun shoots you with a blinding grin. your heart stutters a bit at his unwavering eye contact, nodding with a small smile.

“i guess so. you sure you can keep up, though?” you playfully flirt towards him, a low and quiet ‘ooooo’ coming from soobin and yeonjun on either side of you. taehyun remains unfazed at your comment, shrugging slightly at your words with raised brows.

“i’d like to believe so. i’m looking forward to seeing what you got, y/l/n.”

you smile a bit, your gaze unbreaking with his cat eyes.

“likewise, kang.”

END CREDITS (choi yeonjun x fem!reader)

underground boxer au, exes to lovers, heavy angst, fluff, smut

SYNOPSIS:

yeonjun feels as if he's stuck in a loop. every day is the same, boring, painful drag—work, fight club, dinner for ma, and repeat. he's completely numb to everyone and everything around him. why shouldn't he be? the only person he's staying alive for is his mother—if he were to die today, earth would continue to spin without a second thought. that is, until you pop back up into his life—and now everything he knows is flipped onto its head. you left him because of the way he is... so why are you staying this time?

(current word count: 4.6k)

TEASER:

“i think i’m just gonna head home. ma is probably waiting for me.” yeonjun forces a small, strained smile towards beomgyu, watching as the younger’s shoulders droop in disappointment.

“you are so lame,” beomgyu huffs, pushing yeonjun’s shoulder lightly. “dude, just come celebrate with us tonight. i swear i won’t ever ask you again.”

yeonjun shakes his head, shrugging on his gray zip-up before turning back around to walk out of the locker room, beomgyu still hot on his heels. “don’t feel like it, beomgyu. just drop it.”

beomgyu chases after yeonjun as he walks back into the crowded arena, shoving his way through all of the sweaty bodies as another fight starts up.

“you’re the most boring person i’ve ever met,” beomgyu shouts.

“and you’re the most annoying person i’ve ever met,” yeonjun shouts back, not even bothering to turn around and face the younger.

to be added:

rockstar!yeonjun x lead singer!reader - exes to lovers

farm boy!taehyun x city girl!reader - strangers to lovers

soon-to-be-married!soobin x wedding planner!reader - exes to lovers

#beom-pyu #txt imagines #txt fluff #txt angst #txt smut #txt scenarios #txt x reader #txt x you #yeonjun x reader #soobin x reader #beomgyu x reader #taehyun x reader #hueningkai x reader #yeonjun imagines #soobin imagines #beomgyu imagines #taehyun imagines #hueningkai imagines

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togrowoldinv · 8 months

Text

Booked

Florence Pugh x Reader

You meet Florence at a bookstore event and spend a whirlwind evening with her

Note: I just love Florence and bookstores so here’s this. Enjoy!

Florence Pugh Masterlist, Main Masterlist

You knew it was going to be a good day when you woke up the morning. The sun was shining for the first time in days and you had plans to attend an event at your favorite bookstore.

When you got to the bookstore, you settled in with your favorite fall drink and a wave to the employees that you know well. You listened with rapt attention to the author as she spoke about her new book.

You paid so much attention to her that you didn’t notice the woman sitting two seats from you. She couldn’t keep her eyes off of you. In fact, she was having a hard time doing anything but smiling at the way your face was contorting in thought.

After the discussion, the crowd began mingling and refreshments were served.

You are drinking a glass of champagne when she approaches you. You know who she is, but you feel like pinching yourself to make sure she’s real.

“Hello,” her sweet voice falls from her lips. “I couldn’t help but be absolutely enamored by you.”

You’re sure she can tell you’re flustered by her words. You don’t know what to say.

“What are you drinking there?” She asks.

“Oh, um- champagne?” You phrase it as a question. She chuckles.

“May I?” She gestures to your glass.

You hand her the glass and her fingers brush against yours. The feeling is cosmic. You watch as she drinks a sip of the champagne. You probably spend too long watching her throat as she swallows the liquid.

Looking away when she catches you staring, you grab the nearest book and pretend to look through it.

“I’m Florence,” she finally says.

Her hand goes to shake yours. In an act of politeness, you reach for her hand quickly. But in the process you drop the book.

“Oh, sorry sorry,” you ramble as you bend down to pick up the book.

You look up before you stand back up. Florence looks down at you from her standing position. All you see is her hands gripping the glass and her alluring chest. You stand up again.

“Good choice,” Florence says. She takes the book from your hand.

“So, you’ve read it?”

“Little Women? Do you not know who I am?”

“Oh, I know,” you say quietly. “I just didn’t know you would read a book for the movie.”

“I’m always prepared,” Florence says. “What’s your name, darling?”

The term of affection makes your heart jump. What had she meant earlier when she said she was enamored by you?

“I’m y/n,” you tell her.

“Y/n,” Florence says. You love the way it sounds with her accent. “Tell me, what’s your favorite book?”

You tell Florence your favorite book and walk her around the store to show her more. Her attention is completely on you. You can sense she’s the type of person that makes everyone feel like they are the most important person in the room.

It’s hours later when you realize that at some point you got comfortable with telling Florence pretty much everything. Maybe it is the champagne. Maybe it is the way she looks at you.

“Y/n, we’re closing soon,” the owner addresses you. You and Florence had found a comfortable seat in the children’s reading area.

“Thank you ma’am. We’ll be on our way,” you say.

“Hello,” Florence introduces herself to her. “I’m Florence. I love this place so much. Thank you for keeping books alive in this world.”

The owner smiles at her words and thanks her fervently. Even before she finds out that Florence donated thousands of dollars to the store tonight. She leaves you with Florence.

“So, I guess I better be going,” Florence says. “Thank you for an amazing evening, y/n.”

You stand and walk her to the exit. Outside, you keep pondering how to spend more time with this woman. You are falling for her.

“Hey, do you want to get some ice cream or something?” You ask. Florence chuckles and you rethink your words. “Or something else or nothing, I just don’t want this night to end.”

“I’d love to get ice cream,” Florence replies. “I know just the place.”

You wonder how she knows an ice cream place in this part of town, but you go along with it. She takes you to a sweet little hidden spot where they seem to know her.

Florence refuses to let you pay for the ice cream and you settle into a booth opposite of each other.

“So, what’s it like?” You ask her.

“What’s what like?”

“Being you,” you answer. “Being Florence Pugh.”

Florence thinks for a moment before she answers with a glorious smile.

“I’m just me. I’m the same Florence I’ve always been,” she says. “The media fucking sucks, but I’m still me.”

You nod along, appreciating her candor.

“What’s it like being you?” She challenges. You laugh.

“Some anxiety, some shyness, but mostly I think I’m alright,” you joke.

“I think you’re amazing,” Florence says. She reached across the table and puts her hand over yours.

The ice cream order is ready soon. You walk to the counter to get it before spending another few hours talking to Florence and enjoying the treat.

You still feel the longing to see her for more time. Florence takes your hand as you stand up to leave the ice cream shop. Her hand fits perfectly in yours.

She stops short of getting into her car and turns back to you.

“Y/n, forgive me if I’m being too forward,” Florence begins. “But would you want to go out on a date with me?”

“I would love to,” you say quickly, not even pretending to care you said it too fast.

Florence chuckles her glorious laugh and hands you her phone to put your number in. You do so and she sends you a message with her name and a heart next to it.

“I look forward to seeing you again, y/n,” Florence says. She steps closer to you. You take a deep breath.

“You too, Florence,” you say.

Neither of you know exactly what to do next, but Florence takes the lead. She leans in and hugs you tightly. You feel like you’re at home in her arms.

Florence pulls away just slightly and gazed into your eyes. It’s like every romantic comedy movie. So cheesy but so perfect as she leans in and kisses your lips softly.

“I’m so glad I came to the bookstore today,” you mumble when the kiss is paused for air.

“I’m so grateful you did,” Florence says.

She kisses you again and a few more times before you finally say goodnight. Before you get home, she’s already texted you to ask if she can see you again soon.

Who needs cheesy romance novels when you’ve got the perfect girl in your sights now? It was the perfect day.

#florence pugh x reader #florence pugh #florence pugh fluff #Florence pugh comfort #I love you flo #Florence Pugh meet cute

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thehobbem · 1 year

Text

Jane Eyre

(Um. SPOILERS for Jane Eyre, I guess.)

So. I put off reading Jane Eyre for many years, bc

1) I read a chapter at college and didn't like the style (so I chose to read Great Expectations for that class, instead), and

2) pop culture spoiled the story for me long, long ago, so it killed any sense of urgency. Like, Rochester having his wife in the attic (technically, "secluded room in the abandoned 3rd floor") is the "Darth Vader is Luke's father" of English literature -- it should come as a shock, but at this point, everyone who cares already knows.

But I finally picked it up last week, and reader, I'm having a blast. And I realize now that no one had told me the actual two main attractions of this particular show: that Jane is absolutely hilarious, and that Rochester is WILD. I expected him to be wild, bc, well, he's got his wife locked in the attic, but he's entirely RIDICULOUS?????

So far, these exchanges have happened:

Mr. Brocklehurst: "What should you do to avoid hell?" Jane: "Not die" (GIRL XDD)

Rochester: goes on and on about temptation and redemption and regret, in the most abstract of manners Jane, getting up: "I'm not following anymore, so I'm gonna go. (This man??? Met this 18-year-old girl who has seen nothing of the outside world and???? decided to just???? tell her his entire life story???? including his sob story about a French mistress???? Didn't tell her about the wife in the attic, ofc.)

Rochester, who's way too cool about having been almost roasted alive in his own bed like a suckling pig: "Thank you, Jane, now go." Jane: starts to leave Rochester: pikachu_face.jpg "Are you leaving???" Jane: "You told me to??" Rochester: holds her hand, thanks her profusely for saving his life, calls her his 'cherished preserver', Jane: "No problem! Night." Rochester: "Are you really going?!" Jane: "I'm cold, sir." LSAJFLASKDF

Servants: talk in code about the wife in the attic Me: EVERYONE KNOWS, EXCEPT JANE???? HE'S NOT EVEN KEEPING IT A SECRET????

Rochester DRESSED UP AS A FORTUNE TELLER???? TO TEST JANE???? I GUESS???? He implies she's about to be super happy in life, but also that he's gonna marry Miss Ingram, and then???? Jane realizes it's him??? Jane: "Take this costume off, sir" Rochester: "...I can't, the string is knotted" SKJDJLDAKVK

Rochester keeps telling her he's gonna marry Miss Ingram, and that he'll send Jane away???? And then proposes to Jane???? Saying he TESTED MISS INGRAM, AND SHE FAILED???? So... So what, had Miss Ingram proved to be a nice person who cares about him and not his money, would he then... have married her instead???? WHAT'S HAPPENING HERE

And all the while I'm like "Sir, stop playing dress up and stop proposing to other women, YOU HAVE A WIFE LOCKED IN YOUR ATTIC" (same intonation of "a horse loose in a hospital"). Can't wait for the next fire, is all I'm gonna say.

Rochester is preposterous. He makes Fitzwilliam "You're beneath me, your family is ridiculous, I don't know why I like you but I do, you have fine eyes. Marry me?" Darcy seem like the MOST sensible man in the world. Hell, he makes Frank Churchill seem sensible.

Meanwhile, she has an uncle in Madeira (me, reading it: "oh she has an uncle in my country, how exciting!" XD) who has money and wants to adopt her???? GIRL, RUN TO YOUR UNCLE, BE ADOPTED, ENJOY THE COMFORTS YOU'VE NEVER HAD ACCESS TO

I'm loving every second of this. Reading this knowing about the wife in the attic is great.

Part II, because why not

#jane eyre #charlotte bronte #literature #we were born to make queuestory

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jessicaslittlelovesickmess · 4 months

Text

Stick Season

Pairing: Emily Prentiss x reader, Larissa Weems x reader

Warnings: angst, hints of miscarriage

The team sat drinking in Emily's apartment “Oh and what about that woman you dated! The pretty one” Morgan laughed “Y/n?” She responded confused. “Yeah! What happened to her?” Penelope gasped wide-eyed “Um- she moved away” Emily swallowed.

“She was so pretty” JJ sighed leaning back on the sofa “I still remember her babysitting Henry for me” she smiled “She has talent” JJ tilted her drink. The radio played softly in the background as the group made Emily's ex the main subject "Imagine having to tell people how badly you fumbled" Morgan shook his head.

Penelope hummed along before starting to sing, JJ joined in until Spencer and Morgan hummed too "And I'm terrified of the weather, 'cause I see you when it rains". Emily closed her eyes listening to the music, Hotch and Rossi looked knowingly. This was you.

"Doc told me to travel, but there's COVID on the planes" They all stood to dance not realising the lyrics just yet or maybe they did. "And I love Vermont but it's the season of the sticks" Emily's eyes opened you always wanted to visit Vermont, that's where your mum was from. It had been two years almost since you had broken up "And I saw your mom, she forgot that I existed" Emily wanted to laugh.

"And it's half my fault, but I just like to play the victim" She knew it was partly a dig at her "I'll drink alcohol 'til my friends come home for Christmas". You never drank because your dad was an alcoholic "And I'll dream each night of some version of you!!!" Spencer's voice cracked.

"That I might not have, but I did not lose" Emily quickly stood, on a race to the bathroom, closing the door only making the music seem louder. "No, I am no longer funny 'cause I miss the way you laugh. You once called me forever now you still can't call me back."

She had to find you and it wasn't hard she knew you tried to contact her still Emily watched the phone ring through unable to face she had hurt you. Stick season was the name of your song. It came out a year ago but now you were posting some gorgeous blonde on Instagram,

You were finally doing everything you had always planned, you looked happy Larissa had proposed on your anniversary she seemed nice. The more she scrolled Larissa was a principal for what school it didn't say but your following had boosted. You'd made it just like you spoke about.

There was another picture- a few actually that stood out a picture of a dove but you were scared of birds the caption read Joanne Prentiss. Emily didn't know a Joanne and definitely not one with her last name, it was posted a few months after you broke up. Another picture closer to when you had moved out was two plates but only one set of cutlery. It flew over Emily's head, had you been seeing Larissa longer than the internet said?" she wondered still stalking you.

"I hope this pains just passin' through, but I doubt it" Emily slumped against the bathtub watching the last two years of your life in pictures. Everyone made sure to remind her how she let you go but back then it felt best.

You will marry Larissa who helped you gain your shine back and she'll rot at work, you will continue a family while hers will grow without her. You will be happy and that's all she could hope for until she accidently liked a post from when you moved to Vermont.

"Em? Are you okay?" you messaged not long after but Emily couldn't bring herself to say the truth "I'm great, Penelope was on my phone" she frowned. 'Okay, I'm just checking but it's good to hear you're still alive' Two years for this, Emily still lying. It's the alcohol she tried to pass 'Yeah I guess, I heard your song it's...' Emily typed only to delete it 'Yeah, I'm sorry I wasn't there' No Emily.

'I love you- no' 'yeah I guess so, I see you're well' the song was coming to an end "Now your tire tracks and one pair of shoes. And I'm split in half, but that'll have to do" JJ sang loudly. It took a moment for you to respond 'Yeah it took a while, life was tough but it wasn't anything I hadn't gone through before'.

'Can we be friends?' Emily was quick to text 'I'm not sure, you really hurt me but only time will tell. I have to go now Em, Larissa just got home but please take care'.

#imagine #wlw #emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss #criminal minds #angst #larissa weems x female reader #larissa weems imagine #larissa weems #larissa x reader #larissa weems x reader #emily prentiss imagine #Wednesday 2022

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bestworstcase · 5 months

Text

@tumblingxelian tag from here

#OK I'd legit love to hear your take on her interactions with Oscar

oh i think about the interrogation scene a normal amount

something i want to underline before diving in is the conspicuous discrepancy between the eloquence and spoken delivery of salem's soliloquies in V1/V3 (internal monologue) versus her dialogue (verbal speech). it's especially noticeable in juxtaposition with ozma's V7 soliloquy versus ozpin's dialogue, where no such discrepancy exists; oz talks the way he thinks, he's an excellent orator and even in casual conversation he's well-spoken and charismatic.

whereas salem... thinks eloquently and often poetically ("nature's wrath in hand, man lit their way through the darkness..." or "it's true that a simple spark can ignite hope, breathe fire into the hearts of the weary..."), but speaks with minimal rhetorical flair. her speech is also sometimes a little stilted or just very, very deliberate in a way that does not sound natural; and there's times—her conversation with cinder in V5 is a particularly noticeable example—where what she says circles around what she means.

"working with bandits? keeping ruby alive? what's the point? we're strong enough to take what we want by force!" / "never underestimate the usefulness of others; take leonardo. he was one of ozpin's most trusted, but now... hm. you will have the power i promised you when the time is right, but remember that it comes with a cost. if ruby rose has learned to harness her gift, you must take care to protect yours. there's only so much i can do to aid you."

<- its like. instead of just saying it, salem says examples supporting the idea she's trying to articulate. if a conversation were a math problem, salem shows all of her work but doesn't give the answer. and she does this A LOT.

none of the other characters in the story are like this—which means it isn't, like, a problem with the writers failing to write cogent dialogue. it's a deliberate character choice for salem specifically.

anyway, prior to the interrogation scene, salem only appears in contexts where she is either addressing her subordinates or—in V7—giving ironwood the terms of her siege. on two of these occasions, she get interrupted with unexpected new information (ozpin is back, ruby rose used the lamp) and in both cases, salem abruptly ends the conversation and either kicks everyone else out (V6) or leaves (V7).

and i think that's worth noting in relation to this scene, because the interrogation veers off script very fast and we get to see salem, um, Trying Her Best.

so!

as far as salem knows, oscar is gone. she expects—prepares for—a hostile and painful confrontation with ozma. when oscar wakes up, she's huddled against a pillar in a shadowy corner with an arm curled around herself and her head low, staring fixedly at conjured shadows of her dead children. she is Not Okay.

but when she speaks, her tone is conversational. almost cordial, once she's past the withering sarcasm in "my long lost ozma... found at last." it's affected! it's not real! she's reciting words she planned and probably rehearsed beforehand—which i think is likely the case for most of her little speeches. she's a poor speaker.

except... it's oscar. salem twigs that he isn't ozma the instant he talks, stares at him for a couple seconds without no visible reaction except that her mocking little smile fades, and:

snarls and grabs his face and yanks him down to get a better look at him—the mask just shatters. there's lots of ways to interpret this, but i'm inclined to take it as salem recognizing that this isn't ozma and then second-guessing that instinct and grabbing him because she needs to be absolutely sure.

"you can pretend, boy... but you're not fully him. not yet, at least." her tone shifts on every clause, from almost a growl to relieved to just sort of resigned. and then she drops him, exhales, steps back:

and just... stands there gazing into the middle distance for a couple seconds. like—oscar being here was not a possibility she even considered until it happened and upon finding herself in this situation her reaction is basically, "...um."

and then she's like

well... :)

perhaps you and i can have a better working reLaTiOnShiP.

...

oscar, >:[

was it? :\

laying aside the dire understatement of referring to what happened between her and ozma as a bad "working relationship," you can like. hear. the crash box crashing in her head as she says this. her tone swings from sweet and gentle to sardonic to coldly indifferent—and then she follows this by swerving right back into cordial neutrality. hrgkhsj her affect just goes haywire

and i think that happens because this is just so far out of expected bounds that she can't figure out how to say what she needs to say to get herself back on track. her speech smooths out again as soon as she segues into her questions, because she knows what she planned to ask ozma and she can tailor that to oscar instead.

but getting there? dial-up noises.

the hysterical part though is that it's really obvious this awkward verbal jumble isn't indicative of internal confusion or uncertainty, in that salem knows what she's going to do—her chosen tactics are clear and entirely coherent. she:

calms herself down and backs off.

states her intention to play nice if he cooperates.

both implicitly and explicitly differentiates him from ozma to indicate she understands he's his own person and can and will set her rage and bitterness with ozma aside to treat oscar fairly.

which is precisely what i meant in the OP, about salem having the necessary grasp of human nature to be—in theory—a formidable manipulator but lacking the social dexterity and charisma required to put it into effective practice. like, tactically this line of attack is very shrewd, but her awkward, erratic delivery cuts the legs out from under it because she sounds utterly insincere.

⭐️ she tried.

continuing on—salem first explains the context regarding what she needs to know about "the beacon relic" (sidebar, does... salem even know what it is? this is the only one she refers to this way. the lamp, the staff, the sword, and "the beacon relic"), all in a fairly amicable tone except for:

"if i know my ozma" <- she's implicitly positioning herself and oscar on the same 'side' against ozma. this follows from her deliberate rhetorical separation of oscar from ozma and also the basis of her strategy in coaxing this information out of oscar. the reason she's taking the time for this little prologue is not to help oscar understand why she captured him necessarily. she's (trying to) set out the rules of the game she is playing. trying to, because she's doing her showing-her-work-but-not-giving-the-answer thing again.

here's what she means:

"perhaps you and i can have a better working relationship. oscar, was it?" -> i can work with you because i know you're not him. "if i know my ozma, he has used some means of deception to hide [the relic's] location differently from the others." -> ozma lies. i despise him for lying to me. i expect you to prove to me that you're not like him in this specific way. "i need to know where it is." -> i want an honest answer.

salem knows he isn't going to tell her where ozma hid the relic, if oscar even knows that information; she doesn't expect or even want him to tell her that yet, necessarily. rather, this is a test. she wants to see if oscar will try to deceive her.

"that's not something i know about." he passes.

immediately, salem rewards him for being honest. "of course." she removes her hand from the hound's shoulder and moves away.

"he would keep that one guarded as long as possible." she also takes the opportunity to reinforce that she sees oscar as a separate individual and insinuates that ozma is actively keeping secrets from both of them.

and again, this is a cunning approach because:

oscar is scared and uncomfortable. he quite clearly anticipates that salem is going to get angry and hurt him as he says he doesn't know the answer. so when she accepts "i don't know" without hesitation and physically moves out of his personal space, it creates these feelings of surprise and relief.

that emotional reaction is the key to salem's strategy here. first she tells oscar that she will be reasonable if he cooperates, then she clarifies her expectations ("don't lie.") she asks a question knowing full well that he either can't or won't answer it. he says "i don't know" and braces for retaliation, but instead salem goes "okay" and turns down the heat. she's demonstrating through her actions that she's going to play fair.

"how about something easier, then? the password for the lamp."

she doesn't expect him to tell her this one either. not yet. it's another test that builds from the first. she's established that "i don't know" is a safe answer (as long as it's true). what salem's fishing for him to say now is "i'm not going to tell you that."

why? when she walked away, she left oscar hanging from the hound's jaws. salem lowered the heat—she didn't turn it all the way off. the point of all this is to teach oscar how to play her game, and the last rule he needs to know is that "i won't say" is also a safe answer. had he given her that answer, the hound would have set him down and withdrawn to lay down in the entryway.

only then would the game truly begin. the idea is to draw oscar into something like a real conversation and gradually get him comfortable saying things like "i don't know" and "i won't answer that question" by cultivating trust. once that rapport exists, it becomes really easy to turn the discussion around by asking oscar why? why not take the risk of trusting her with this or that information? after all, she's been nothing but polite and reasonable. does he truly still believe she's the evil monster ozma made her out to be? she gave him the benefit of the doubt... can't he do the same for her?

salem wins by convincing him she's a person he can negotiate with. that pulling this off would be the ultimate fuck-you to ozma only makes it more satisfying.

of course, that's not what actually happens. (partly because salem talked a circle about the "don't lie" rule and oscar—who hasn't spent the last four volumes seeing that his woman yells and flips tables when she's lied to—didn't pick up the hint.) instead, he tries to deceive her again and salem lashes out.

<- the physical violence gets all the attention from the fandom, and i do understand why, it's nasty and protracted and made to be viscerally unpleasant to watch, but. it's only a placeholder, something salem does while she considers what she's going to do—and say—to hurt him in a way that will never heal.

ok.

salem gets that oscar isn't ozma, didn't ask to become him, and feels desperate to retain his own identity distinct and separate from for as long as possible. she knows how ozma's reincarnation works, what this curse does to his hosts. it's not hard to figure out that it is a horrifying, traumatizing ordeal for the souls he's "paired" with. this is why she makes such a particular point of differentiating between oscar and ozma.

"the lies come out of you so easily." ("if i know my ozma, he has used some means of deception...")

why does she caress his face like this? to make him remember her like ozma does. "like-minded souls, indeed." you can pretend, boy, but so much of you is him that you remember even this.

the torture is just the preshow. this is the cruelest, most devastating thing she could possibly do to him, and salem knows it. she gave him a pass on pretending to be ozma, and he threw the second chance back in her face by lying to her again; she's furious and upset and she wants to HURT him.

this is how porous the boundaries between you and him have become. this is how close you are to being him. this is how little of you there is left to lose. like-minded souls, indeed.

like.

she does this to fuck with his head and it horrifies him so much that oscar spends the remainder of this arc actively choosing to endure being hazel's literal punching bag rather than let ozma take over or try to escape using ozma's magic. in 8.6:

OZMA: I’d like to express again that this is my burden to bear, not yours. His grudge is with me. OSCAR: No, it’ll be even worse. He’s holding back with me, I can tell. OZMA: I understand. I do. But you’ve done so much already. The least I can do is give you a break and try to get us out of here. OSCAR: We can’t leave yet.

they go back and forth, oscar proposes trying to flip hazel, ozma agrees it's worth a try. when hazel comes in, ozpin goes "oscar, please"—and because oscar doesn't respond, it's ambiguous whether he gives ozma control or if ozma shunts him aside again as he did at haven academy.

either way, the next we see of oscar after the interrogation scene is ozma entreating oscar to let him take over and oscar going no no no, that'll make it worse, no i don't need a break, i've got a plan, no no we have to stay here. and while his reasoning is cogent... this is a fifteen year old boy who's spent the whole day getting beaten up by a guy three times his size, and he actively wants to stay and be tortured more rather than let ozma front for a while.

and then in 8.9:

OZMA: I think this plan to divide may have run its course. It’s time we start thinking about a way out; not having our cane certainly limits our options, so… OSCAR: No! I don’t like what happens when we use magic. Every time we use it, I can feel us merging faster. I'm not ready for that.

the deeper truth gets spoken aloud.

this is not a new thing with oscar—his emotional core has always been existential dread—but framing it in this way, set against hours and hours of brutal torture that oscar insists is the less bad option, represents a massive spike in the intensity of his horror.

because salem Did That.

anyway the interrogation scene is great. 10/10.

#can't wait for her to have more Conversations in V10

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bruciemilf · 1 year

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wait I have got to hear your thoughts on bruce being lottie!!

Rewatching Princess and The Frog has got me in a chokehold! But basically, the AU as of now;

It's a well established, well know, well respected fact from the White House to the Bayou; If you ain't Wayne rich, you ain't rich at all.

But you won't catch Thomas Wayne bragging and boosting and yapping about hot cars, or big mansions, or pearly white yachts.

Thomas' pride and joy is one tiny, fawn eyed, overly energetic boy that made Gotham collectively swoon.

"And I want a princess when I grows up!" Bruce is just prancing around in his pink prince costume, adjusting a paper crown that Alfred made, " Or a prince! Can you get me a prince, papa?"

"You know the deal, Bruce; You wish it, daddy grands it; Ain't that right, Martha?"

Martha Kent chuckles in that warm, knowing way of hers. Her friend is infamous for the way he spoils his boy. But the Waynes are good people. And not just because they keep her farm afloat.

"Yeah, you're good on that front. But you know, sweetheart; It doesn't matter if you marry a prince or princess. As long as they make you smile, that's all that matters."

Lois, just a bit older than Bruce, makes a disgusted noise, " I don't want no prince or princess. I just want Princess money."

Bruce squeals, " But a PRINCE. I'd love to marry a Prince. We'd have a big big wedding and the sweetest cake in the world, and everyone would have fun, -- Clark! You gonna be at my wedding, right?"

Clark, dressed up in his blue overalls and paper sword, to fit the knight Bruce always calls him, nods, with a smile that doesn't match his words, " Course I will, Bruce. If you'll have me."

Now. Bruce is so very good at forging fantasies. But when a princess from a far away island rumoured to be populated entirely by women comes into town, it doesn't look like make believe at all.

"Women only? Lucky."

Lois doesn't have the time for dreams; She's a bonafide, concise, straight to the point realist. Taking truth by the throat and brings it to light.

And often enough, truth isn't pretty. And ugly truth, as Parry said, right before booting her right out of her job, doesn't sell.

Luckily, Clark's folks were nice enough to give her a delivery job cause Clark can't drive worth a damn. Still. If she's gonna watch him contain another dreamy sigh for Bruce, she'll blow chunks.

"Did you see her in them papers?! That's the prettiest woman I ever did see!"

Mr. Wayne growls behind his newspaper (that Lois could've written better than fucking JIMMY) and Bruce doubles down, " Um. After mama."

Mr Thomas smiles. "Hm. Guess you're finally getting that princess, huh, Brucie?"

Even in adulthood, Bruce squeals like a strangled kitten, " Where's Clark? Can't have the perfect wedding without the perfect best man!" Lois bites her lip and stacks up the peaches in Mrs. Wayne's Cafe.

After all these years, she just refuses to let that old place go. Lois has to respect that. Martha gives her a sympathetic look, warms her up with a mother's love. " How's work, Lo?"

"It's work, Mrs. Wayne. Thank you for that big order for the masquerade ball. At this point, you're the only ones keeping that farm alive..."

"Give those apples some credit," she winks, but squeezes Lois' hand, " If you ever need anything..."

"Thank you. But I don't take handouts."

"Pride won't buy you food, honey. But I guess I gotta wait for you to open your own newspaper. Then I'll make you rich. You'll see."

Bruce is just hugging and squeezing on Clark's arm, ranting a mile a minute about his wedding colors, his cake flavor, the honeymoon, all while nuzzling Clark's toned arm.

And Clark does what he does best; Hide behind a smile.

Alfred sighs, " If he wasn't mine, I'd whack that boy's head with a pan."

"You'll do no such thing, or so help me!"

"Save it for the after party, Tommy dear," Martha chuckles, " But I gotta understand, -- this Diana lady's making waves. I never even seen a woman talk to the mayor before. Let alone yell at 'Im."

"That's cause Tommy Elliot only wants women under his desk," A roll of the eye, a coil of disgust fanning resentment In her gut, Lois takes the box. "Sides, little miss princess probably ain't better than he is. "

The problem with always looking back is you're never ready for the forward.

When Lois bumps up in something tall, solid, and warm, she thinks its Clark. Except neither she or Clark smell like vanilla ice cream and clean air and blue oceans.

Clark certainly doesn't have long, majestic hair gracefully dancing in the winds. He doesn't have blood red lips, or strong blue eyes.

Clark's eyes were summer sky blue. Not a blue Medusa herself couldn't stone.

And he certainly doesn't make her heart stop with a smirk.

"Well," Diana Fucking Prince says, voice satin and velvet, "I don't know about being a better. But I could change your mind about that."

#dc #bruce wayne #clark kent #lois lane #dc comics #superbat #diana prince #diana of themyscira #lois x diana #basically diana goes undercover as a civilian to see how the mayor treats his citizens or maybe shes running from something and lois #has to help take your pic!!!#text #text post #also bruce has little babies!! jay and dickie ^^ lois employes their help to stop wonderbat from happening bc clearly CLARK should marry #the princess and save the farm #jay isnt down!! she wants the cool lady as his mom! and dick wants uncle clark as his dad!

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etherealstar-writes · 2 months

Text

I WANNA BE YOURS | WOSO X READER | PT 14

pairings: woso x reader

summary: in which you're accidentally added to a random group chat, not knowing they're all actually famous footballers, and obliviously end up having many of them competing for your love and attention.

part: fourteen

part one here

�� ——— ✦ ——— ✦

THE NATIONAL DIVING TEAM

the imposter aka y/n ❤️ you guys back me up here

lotte y/n absolutely not

neev oooh what's gotten lotte acting like this

the imposter aka y/n ❤️ so i made this insane connection yeah lotte is literally a female tom holland but miss wubben-moy here is denying it

the REAL karate kid huh?

mccard hold on you might be onto something here

the imposter aka y/n ❤️

LOOOK it's not the best photo to compare from but tell me i ain't the only who sees it

stairway OMG

brightness oh yeah i'm seeing it

stephy YESSS it's the side profile

the imposter aka y/n ❤️ exactly!!

meado that is insane

the imposter aka y/n ❤️ seeee lotte! i meant it as a compliment when i said you look like tom holland's twin

elton changed lotte's name to tom holland's twin

tom holland's twin

neev

the imposter aka y/n ❤️ 😔😔

tom holland's twin niamh do i need to remind you of this afternoon at the beach? because i will

hempo oooh i wanna know what happeneddd

daly

stairway WAIT YOU GUYS WENT TO THE BEACH?! AND DIDN'T INVITE ME

the REAL karate kid that is so sad we must've completely forgotten about you

the imposter aka y/n ❤️ OMG YESS I HAVE AMAZING PHOTOS TO SHARE

neev Y/N NO

tom holland's twin Y/N YES

the imposter aka y/n ❤️

this one and jessie were STRUGGLING for an hour trying to place their mats 😭😭 it was so funny

flaming hot STOPPP DONT REMIND ME

the imposter aka y/n ❤️

and miss fleming here even gave me the bird guys she's not as innocent as she looks

flaming hot oh shut up y/n

the imposter aka y/n ❤️ you're just sour that the wind loved me

flaming hot yeah i really am

the imposter aka y/n ❤️

i'm justfdghjkem ehyu tyuiolkjehsyuikmdrnh

willybum um y/n you good?

elton are you having a stroke rn?

the imposter aka y/n ❤️ sorry y/n's a bit busy rn

neev WHERE'S Y/N MY BAE AND WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO HER

the imposter aka y/n ❤️ if you want to see her alive again i'm gonna need y'all to venmo me 10k each

stairway 10k?

the imposter aka y/n ❤️ is that too much for you?

stairway oh no no it was just surprising how you didn't go for one 1 million like everyone usually does

the imposter aka y/n ❤️ oh well i guess if you want it that way then 1 million each from y'all

willybum STANWAY WTH

neev had to open that big mouth of yours

ona we'll save y/n just what is this venmo and how do i venmo you money?

elton i mean do we have to ..... she'll be fineee

neev you know what how about 1 m for y/n toone will pay for it on behalf of us all

elton HUH excuse you i ain't venmoing anyone a million dollars i'm positive i don't even have a hundred dollars in my bank account

the imposter aka y/n ❤️ wow glad to know how much i'm worth 😔

ona y/n! you're okay! do i still have to venmo for your safety?

the imposter aka y/n ❤️ oh no no don't worry about it ona you're too sweet for this world 🥺 kyra and charli were being jerks and snatched my phone and ran away

the imposter aka y/n ❤️ added kyra and cha cha

kyra aw man you ruined the fun 😔 i could've earned some money

the imposter aka y/n ❤️ nahhh ona's too precious to be scammed by you but i mean ella on the other hand ....

elton OI

the imposter aka y/n ❤️ OMG HOW MANY SELFIES DID YOU TWO TAKE ON MY PHONE?!

cha cha just enough 😁

stephy i was dreading when the three of you would meet up as if we don't already have enough chaos in this groupchat

the imposter aka y/n ❤️ stephyyy why would you think that 😔

cha cha honestly

kyra

the REAL karate kid 😭😭

willybum HELP

cha cha HAHA I LOVE THIS PLS

stephy

kyra WOAH WOAH WOAH

stephy

kyra

cha cha HELP YOU BEAT KYRA WITH MEMES I CANT BELIEVE THIS

the imposter aka y/n ❤️ HAHAHA STEPH YOU ICONIC LEGEND I LOVE YOU EVEN MORE

✦ ——— ✦ ——— ✦

i don't even know what the hell this is anymore 😭😭 but i hope you enjoyed this nonsense

part fifteen here

#woso x reader #lionesses x reader #engwnt x reader #auswnt x reader #matildas x reader #engwnt #woso imagine #woso fanfics #alessia russo x reader #niamh charles x reader #jessie fleming x reader #kyra cooney cross x reader #charli grant x reader #steph catley x reader #ona batlle x reader #lotte wubben moy x reader #leah williamson x reader #ella toone x reader #georgia stanway x reader

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waywardangel-wilds · 11 months

Text

In tonight's episode of siblings or dating... both!

Okay so the girls in my Everlark discord said some very funny things and I had to write a one-shot about it:

[AU where hijacked Peeta fully forgot about the romantic tension between Gale and Katniss and he truly believes they are cousins -- using the real book dialogue as a base then going off on my merry fanfiction way-- I will be adding this to my 'cellar conversations' collection (I finally made the funny one!).]

“Thanks for the water,” Peeta says.

“No problem,” Gale replies. “I wake up ten times a night anyway.”

“To make sure Katniss is still here?” asks Peeta.

“Something like that,” Gale admits.

There’s a long pause before Peeta speaks again. “That was funny, what Tigris said. About no one knowing what to do with her.”

“Well, we never have,” Gale says.

They both laugh.

“She loves you, you know,” Gale says. “The way she kissed you in the Quarter Quell… well, she never kissed me like that.”

Peeta frowns. Kissed him? He must have misheard. “It was just part of the show,” Peta assures him, although he can't help the edge of trepidation in his voice.

“No, you won her over. Gave up everything for her. Maybe that’s the only way to convince her you love her.” There’s a long pause where Peeta wonders what the hell this conversation is about. “I should have volunteered to take your place in the first Games. Protected her then.”

“You couldn’t,” Peeta speaks somewhat slower than usual. “She’d never have forgiven you. You had to take care of your family. You matter more to her than her life.” You. Her family that you are a part of. Because you're cousins. Close cousins who look like siblings. Cousins.

“Well, it won’t be an issue much longer. I think it’s unlikely all three of us will be alive at the end of the war. And if we are, I guess it's Katniss’s problem. Who to choose.” Gale yawns. “We should get some sleep.”

“Yeah,” Peeta slides his handcuffs down his support. Maybe this is one of those normal things he forgot were normal. But whatever, who cares, he's probably going to die tomorrow anyway. This is really not his most pressing concern.

"Night," Gale rolls over and he's left to stare at the ceiling.

[Several months later, before 'so after' during 'Peeta and I grow back together']

Peeta picks up the stack of unopened mail that sits precariously on Katniss's mantle. He shuffles through the letters and sees a variety of names, including his own. Katniss sits patiently on the couch, watching him without speaking a word.

"Why haven't you opened these?" He asks with a smile as he waves some of the letters around with one hand. "Looks like everyone and their mother wrote to you."

Katniss tries to hide it but she lets out a little laugh. She rolls her eyes. "I don't think everyone wrote me a letter, Peeta."

He shrugs and goes back to shuffling the letters, taking care to tuck his own at the very bottom of the stack. No use reading those now. He pauses his shuffling when his eyes land on a familiar name. A name that's been bothering him for some time now, in the back of his mind, with an old question.

He clears his throat and attempts to appear casual. "Hey, you have a few here from Gale Hawthorne. You two got along well, right?"

Katniss visibly tenses. "Yeah." she offers nothing more.

"Well, maybe you should open those first." He smiles and offers the three envelopes to her. "Should be easy."

Katniss purses her lips. "I'd rather not start with him, thanks."

Peeta nods rapidly. "Oh. Okay, yeah that's fine." Remain casual he reminds himself. He doesn't want to offend her or anything like that. He holds the letters in one hand and reaches up to scratch the back of his neck. "Hey, um, is it okay if I ask you something?"

Katniss raises one of her ebony eyebrows. She smiles at him quizzically, "Uh, you just did."

"Ha," Peeta smiles and rolls his eyes good-naturedly. "Right. Yeah. But um it's a bit of a dumb question." He pauses. Katniss doesn't do anything other than stare at him expectantly. "Um, so, no judgment or anything like that, I mean, I'll still like you of course, but uh, was Gale actually your cousin?" He frowns almost with embarrassment as he asks. Katniss raises both her eyebrows in surprise. "I mean, ah, maybe that wasn't that big of a deal back then? I don't actually remember. I mean, well, I think I do? But uh, maybe your family was different, I mean, not that your family was different bad or anything but--"

"Peeta," Katniss interjects but he's already on a roll.

"I mean, I guess there weren't that many guys around our age who were visually interesting--"

"Peeta!" Katniss is laughing. She covers her mouth with her hands and shakes her head, but he can still see the laughter shaking her frame and lighting up her eyes. "No. No. Gale and I aren't cousins. That was just something the Capitol made up. Not real."

"Oh." Peeta nods. He presses the stack of letters to his chest and nods again. "Well, okay."

Katniss drops her hands back to her lap. She's still smiling. "Is there something else?"

"Well, I know you kissed him. He told me," he admits. "Um, was he your boyfriend or something?"

She shakes her head. "It was... complicated. Nothing ever really went anywhere. We were barely friends at the end. Probably strangers now."

Peeta takes a moment to absorb that and feels a deep sadness for her. He looks down at the letters. Maybe not strangers.

"Why don't you read these?" He insists gently, extending Gale's letter towards her. "It looks like he wants to talk."

Katniss frowns but takes them. She places the closed envelopes in her lap and pats them gently. "Maybe," she concedes. "Sometime later. When I'm ready."

He nods, "Sure." He smiles at her and walks around the coffee table to join her on the couch. "Sorry about that dumb question by the way."

Katniss laughs again, her eyes crinkling, "No it's okay. I mean I would want to know."

[and that's it! I didn't know what else to write to end it, but this was kind of funny to me]

#everlark #the hunger games #peeta mellark #thg #katniss everdeen #katniss and peeta #fanfic #gale hawthorne

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ronearoundblindly · 1 year

Text

Warning Signs

um, I've had a miserable day, so I wrote angst that absolutely no one asked for. Partly hurt/comfort, too. Totally unedited. No descriptions of injury. Just feels and sweet, protective Steve. WC 1.7k

Summary: Your first bad mission shows Steve how you handle tragedy.

Silence.

The quinjet is flooded with it, thick and suffocating. You'd never know there were eight living souls on board.

Plus two bodies.

Steve's worked with everyone around (alive or dead) for a long time, but not you. He watches you follow the pattern of everyone else's grief. As much as he hates to be dismissive, this is standard stuff for the team.

If he had to guess, he's looking at the numb phase. They'll touch down at the base and go through the motions. You'll make it to your quarters, take an absurdly long shower, possibly have a meltdown, maybe blow off steam at the gym, and emerge 'feeling better.'

It won't actually be better. It doesn't actually get easier. He knows that very, very well.

He hears a sniffle and starts, thinking it's you, but in fact, Sam's broken first. That's not a bad sign; it's actually good. Sam Wilson likely broke on purpose, to set an example, to show it's okay to not feel okay, to begin the mourning properly so that you all can heal. He's a good man that way.

Sam wipes his eyes. He makes no moves to step away for privacy.

Your face is blank as you stand from your jumpseat. Steve watches with fascination while you gather bottles of water and the med kit. You make rounds to everyone, completely expressionless. You look over every person for injuries, cleaning every single cut before moving to the next. You walk a tight circle around him and, seeing no damage, step back without a word, handing him his water like a prize lolly at a doctor's visit.

Finally, you go to Sam, and he obediently stands to be inspected, holding out his wrist and forearm crusted in blood.

Arms clamp around him. Your hug is brutal, strong, and a push that sends Sam over the edge of 'example' into the deep end of reality. One by one, each member aboard breaks. Steve's never seen anything like it. They are all close. They are all comfortable enough to see each other and be seen by each other this way, but not around you.

Not yet, Steve would have thought, but he takes a seat and buries his face in his hands, too. He lets himself drown for a few minutes.

Collectively, the flood of emotion drains away, and it's a shocking difference. By no means has everyone healed, but they've vaulted several of the usual hurdles all on a single ride home.

You're still hugging Sam when Steve collects himself for touchdown. The door lowers, breaking another seal of silence, and you let go.

Steve stiffens.

Your face is still blank, eyes distant and unfocused, cheeks dry.

You let nothing go. Not a single tear. It looks like you drank down the grief of seven war-weary soldiers and are just holding it inside.

You walk out first after letting the med crew come in. Steve can't follow because the nurses fuss over everyone and bombard him with questions. You're gone by the time he looks back down the ramp.

He's only able to come to your door hours later.

You don't answer. F.R.I.D.A.Y. confirms you are inside. Still no answer.

"Dammit," Steve whispers. He doesn't want to have to do this, but since you've never been on a mission like this one with him, he has no standard for how you process.

"Override the door. Authorization gamma four foxtrot."

"Override accepted, Captain," the AI gently announces, and the magnetic latch pops open.

Slowly, Steve's eyes roll over the whole room, trying to remain as calm as possible.

The place is trashed. Mattress flipped against the window, squishing and bending the blinds. Chair upsidedown on the unaligned boxsprings. A dent in the headboard above shattered lamp pieces. Dresser and nightstands face down on the carpet. You're nowhere in sight.

He can hear water running, so he immediately goes to the closed bathroom and knocks, shouting your name.

Nothing happens.

He tries the handle. Locked.

Steve's way past being nice about this. His shoulder cracks through the hollow wood easily, and he bursts in.

There's no steam.

Through the glass doors, he can't see you standing. There's a dark streak above the rim of the tub basin.

He leaps forward, careful not to grab the glass so hard he shatters it (and he knows he can because he's done that twice).

You're curled up, facing away, drenched and letting cold water run all over you, fully clothed.

Steve says your name gently, heart racing now with concern. He uses a grip at the back of your neck to check for a pulse as well as turn you.

Blank. Your face is still devoid of...anything. You're completely catatonic.

He reaches over to turn off the water.

"Okay," he soothes, "okay, sweetheart. It's okay. Here we go."

He slides an arm under your legs, supportive hold still at your neck, and lifts you out of the tub and straight onto his lap, soaking himself and the bathmat.

"Come on, sweetheart. I got ya."

Steve scurries to yank two towels from the rack above him and covers you loosely. Your eyes don't meet his. You don't appear to see him at all.

He's seen all sorts of versions of shell shock--poorly treated and well handled alike--and he knows several things he can do.

But he just waits. He watches you blink and breathe, and that's it. That is the sum total of what your body can muster for who knows how long.

Your hair is half dry and the pads of his fingers are wrinkled by the time you turn your head in towards the crook of his elbow and shut your eyes.

Steve sighs, wrapping the towels a little tighter and adjusting you closer in his hold.

"We're okay. We're going to be okay." He pets strands of hair off of your face. "You did everything right. You did everything you could. We all did."

Steve keeps saying aloud what he thinks to himself after each mission, except when he says it to you, he means it. He's proud of you, and he says it. He promises to take care of you, and he will. He keeps talking, slowly rocking back and forth until his own heart has calmed and you're sleeping.

He keeps holding you but stretches out his legs because they've fallen asleep, too. He can't carry you while his lower half tingles painfully. Soon enough though, he's standing, adjusting you to allow him to maneuver past doorways easily.

He can't get any of your clothes from the upended furniture and there's nowhere to lay you down. Steve barely thinks before heading straight to his own room, towels still dangling from you and his arm, but he finally hesitates when his twitching fingers remind him of your wet tac suit.

The whole point was not to take you to the infirmary while you slept, but he can't possibly change you without waking you.

He makes an executive decision. You have to rest, and the best way to get started on a proper rest is to get you comfortable and dry first.

Steve sets you down in his chair, leaving the towels bunched under you as he steps away to find a shirt and shorts for you to wear. He returns to see you awake with heavy eyelids, sitting up but slouching.

The blank face is back, so he asks you to change. You don't move.

He asks you to stand up, and you look down at your feet before pushing up off the chair.

"Can you give me those wet clothes?"

He turns around when you start to unzip the suit, waiting for the squelch of fabric hitting his floor to stop.

Offering the stack of clean things without looking, Steve says, "these are for you."

Nothing happens.

He peeks over his shoulder to find you staring at the wall, and he knows he'll have to do this himself.

T-shirt first, he bunches it open and ready while still turned away.

"Arms up."

He looks only at your hands to align the sleeve, lets it fall and drape to cover as much of you as possible, and then pops your head out. He sweeps away the hair that pushed over your face again.

Next, the shorts.

"Left leg, please. Good. Now the right. Thank you, sweetheart." Steve's kneeling, pulling the elastic wide enough to not drag his thumbs up your legs, but he still grazes the swell of your hips before releasing the band.

"Are you tired? You can sleep some more here."

You look over at the bed, his bed, completely unfazed. You don't even nod. You shuffle over and lay atop the covers, facing in, hands between your tucked-up knees, still staring.

Steve takes that as a win and sets about short tasks to get himself settled as well, checking on you after everyone, eventually laying on the other side of the bed.

Your eyes are closed, so he thinks you've fallen asleep and turns out the lights. He tries not to move around too much and disturb you until you speak.

Your voice is so small, so flat.

"Why them?"

Steve turns back to face you in the dark. "I don't know," he offers as honestly as he can. "I don't know."

Your breathing comes a little heavier for a while. "Why can't I feel anything?"

Tentatively, he lifts a hand to the dip of your waist, hiding his heartbreak deep down in his gut.

"Because you'll feel too much every other day--" his thumb sways back and forth over the worn cotton of his shirt over your skin "--and sometimes you need a break. It's okay. I'm right here."

"What are you gonna do?" The words choke you, laced with fear of having failed in some way so soon. He knows that judgment. He judged himself that way until the day he realized: mourning doesn't make him a better soldier but it does make him a better man.

Steve can give you the same gift. He can give you space to mourn.

"Watch over you, sweetheart," he mutters, "just like I promised."

[Main Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

#steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers one shot #steve rogers x reader #steve x reader #steve rogers fic #steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers angst #steve rogers hurt/comfort #captain america fanfiction #captain america x reader #captain america x you #hurt/comfort #angst with a happy ending

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