#i know the post is somewhat vague lol | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

504py · 2 months ago

Text

No Compromises

Yandere Canada/Reader – You reunite with an old college friend, though he's nothing like you remember.

⚠️ Yandere content, kidnapping, self-harm, stalking, possible emetophobia (descriptions of gagging and the feeling of illness), no use of Y/N, gender-neutral reader.

IM BACK YAWL 😭😭 just a bit of a filler post and another apology for being away for so long!!! i tried to get this out by halloween but i kept adding more shit LOL

while this is much more aligned with his 2p version, i had no idea if it counts as such since here i portray his 1p and 2p version as the same guy 😭😭 so that's up in the air!

also u may notice the lack of a [oneshot] tag... thats cuz i have a prequel wip for this, but figured i'll just finish and post it if the people desire it LMAO. pls lemme know if y'all do!! anyways so sorry again and i hope u enjoy!!! thanks so much to everyone for sticking around and enjoying what i do 🩵🩵🩵

┊͙✧˖*°࿐

The light drag of a cigarette is the first thing you process when you finally come to your senses.

A man stands before you, singular lightbulb leering ominously above a head of overgrown blond hair, the bright light reflecting in his glasses making you unable to see much of his features. His tall, slender figure is highlighted by the stark overhead shadows that are being cast on his baggy clothing. He exhales, smoke billowing and resting heavily in the dusty, stale air.

"Hey." He says, the friendly, casual tone of his voice making you blink faster in the hopes of gaining more lucidity. His tongue pokes at his cheek as he drops the cigarette to the cemented floor and stomps on it. The gritty sound feels like boiling water in your audio-sensitive drugged up state.

"Are the ropes too tight?" He asks with a quirk of his head, you squint, thinking you'll be able to catch a glimpse of his face, but the dark shadows and your pupils trying desperately to adjust to the lighting in the dim room make the task much too difficult. You didn't even notice you were bound 'till you tugged your wrists at the mention of the word 'rope.'

The mystery man straightens his posture and takes a few steps closer to you. His sneakers are downtrodden. The lacing is asymmetrical, any recognizable color or branding rubbed off, and the hem of his loose jeans caked in what seems to be mud.

"Come on, you can speak, can't you? It's not like I taped up your mouth." The tone of voice he uses here is almost playful, yet too vague. You didn't know if it was condescending, comforting, or cheerful.

"I... I'm... Ropes are okay..." You respond mindlessly, your voice coming out in a hoarse croak. God, it feels like your head could loll off your neck at any moment.

"Poor thing. You sound parched– Tell ya what, I'll give you some water if you kiss me." Even if his face is still hazy, you can make out the glint of a smile. His canines are pointy.

He draws closer, and crouches in front of your seated figure. He's a lot taller than you thought, seeing him up close. You see the indent of a pointed dimple by the edge of his sharp lip corners when he turns his cheek to you. There's a few moles on his pale skin. He smells like tobacco, rust, and rainwater. Smells a bit like something syrupy and moldy, but maybe that's just the room.

You shudder away from his close proximity, and he laughs nervously.

"Aw, I thought that'd work." He chuckles, before facing you fully, still crouching.

You can finally see his face. What you thought were dark brown eyes turned out to be a dull shade of purple, just with his pupils as fully blown as they can go. The stare is creepy, but at least his droopy outer eye corners and straight blond eyelashes soften their impression. His nose is well-structured and pointy, reddish at the tip. His sharp lip corners seem to always point upwards, and were pink like they had just been kissed and bitten. If it weren't for this moment, you'd have thought he was an attractive man with a somewhat docile-looking face. His cheeks are flushed, he tilts his head in wonder, a few pieces of his hair falling over his face.

"Merde, you're really pretty up close. I can't believe you're in front of me right now. I missed you so, so much." He giggles, cold hand reaching out to carefully grasp your chin to try and steady your bobbing head.

He swoons, "So, so pretty." then presses a kiss to the corner of your mouth. The action makes him exhale a shuddered, moaning breath. Whatever is in your system prevents you from reacting too much besides a weak jerk of your body.

"I should get you out of this shitty room, but I wanted to be prepared in case you reacted more violently. I didn't wanna have to drag you around. Don't wanna rough my baby up." He says with a small smile, as if the thought secretly brings him some amusement. Maybe his otherwise comforting smile just comes off as sinister at a time like this.

"You're reacting so much better than I thought you would, though. You're being so, so good, you know?" He coos like you're a pet, taking his hand off your chin and his blunt fingernails gently scratching at the top of your scalp.

Your throat hurts. You swallow dryly. "Who are you?"

The corner of his mouth twitches, and his smile drops slightly. He takes in a deep breath and sighs, cigarette-stained air blowing over your face.

He squints at you. "You really don't remember me?" He says quietly.

You shake your head. His light eyebrows knit in what looks like an expression of heartbreak.

He tries to jog your memory. "Come on, college sweethearts?"

"...I didn't date anyone in college."

His lips part in shock, the wrinkles between his eyebrows deepening.

"It's Mattie. Come on now." He pleads, desperation dripping from every word. The higher, more pathetic register his voice shifts into begins to jog your memory.

The sound of that nickname makes your eyes widen and forces your shoulders to press against the back of the chair. His identity makes things a million times worse.

"...M-Matthew Williams? No, no, c'mon, we never dated. Don't be like this."

"We had something special, though. I missed you. You missed me too, didn't you? You even remembered my full name." Matthew's gentle voice raises, as if trying to convince you of his feelings, trying to justify this situation.

"Th-There must've been a better way to get in contact with me without tying me up."

He shakes his head, frown almost a pout. "I did try! But you'd always blow me off to hang out with your other friends, a-and– and I just couldn't watch when I found out you were starting to see someone else." Resting on his knees and looking up at you, he grasps your bound hands on your lap. The position reminds you of prayer. Worship.

"I love you. Always have. A-And I know I'm different from how I used to be, but maybe you'll like this newer version of me more. You did say you liked a more assertive partner, didn't you?" His head tilts while he nods, like he's trying to convince you of everything he's saying.

His crazed eyes quickly scan your expression for any validation. "Yeah, yeah... I-I was a doormat back then, so that's probably why you didn't return my feelings." He laughs bitterly, and the sight is almost irritatingly funny to you. He's comparing his former pitiful self to the way he is now, as if he had changed. "But I'm different now. I'm not a coward anymore. I'll take care of you, and I'll do it well, I promise. I'll make you so happy."

"Please, Mattie, j-just let me go, and I'll give you a chance–"

He gasps. "You used my nickname." A disgustingly lovestruck grin spreads on his pale freckled face. He presses your bound hands against his flat chest. His heart is beating wildly against his ribcage.

"Feel my heartbeat. It's all for you. It only beats for you. I promise I can make you feel the same way for me. Just let me."

"...Do I even have any other choice? You kidnapped me."

Matthew's smile falters, eyes drooping, and he looks just as pathetic as he did all those years ago. He frowns flimsily. "I-I'm sorry. But I'll be good to you. Really. I'll be so good for you."

You shut your eyes and lean your head back. Your whole body hurts. Weighing out your options, you make a decision. If this Matthew is just as pathetic as the one you remember, then maybe you have a chance to escape if you butter him up enough.

"Fine. Untie me first."

Matthew's eyes widen. "R-Really? If you fight back, though, I'll have to use force, so, please, just... Don't run."

"I get it."

Eagerly, he brings out a knife and cuts through the rope. He rubs and massages your wrists for you when you're freed from your restraints. Dusts your clothes off for you, too. Though, you're wondering if what you think is a needlessly thoughtful action is just an excuse for him to feel you up.

"Let's get out of this basement, yeah? It's much better upstairs. Promise." He says, gently holding onto your hand. His are covered in bruises and small wounds. Butterflies are taking flight like fighter jets in his stomach.

When you stand up, Matthew pauses for a bit, violet eyes raking over your figure.

"Sorry, I just–" He starts, before cutting himself off by quickly stepping closer to you and encasing your body in a hug. He trembles and lets out a shaky breath, tightening his hold.

"I missed you so much," His voice cracks, "So happy you're here. Really. I feel like I'm on top of the world having you all to myself. You're all mine, finally."

Matthew takes in a sharp, obstructed breath. "Ugh, I–" He pulls away and his voice sounds all wet. He's crying. If you weren't so woozy, you would have scolded him when he wipes his face with his dirty jacket sleeve. Even now, you care about him, and maybe that's why he's fallen so helplessly in love with you.

He feels like he's shriveling into himself when all he does is simply breathe and what comes out is a sniffle. It's shameful, to boast about being a changed, stronger man, only to fall apart with a hug.

Wordlessly, he gulps his insecurities down his scratchy throat and grabs your wrist, taking you up the dusty wooden steps and leaving the basement. He does this with such little care it surprises you a little. It forces you to come to your senses in order to not stumble over your own heavy feet.

The actual interior of the house is much less industrial-looking than what you'd assumed from the basement. Rustic is the first word to pop into your mind to describe this place. Cottagecore, like the trendy people say, but... with a whole lot less of that trendy factor. It definitely is comfortable, which is a relief considering the storm outside.

Oh.

Looking out the window makes you realize something dreadful. You were never scared of the dark, pitch-darkness, even, but the vantablack surroundings beyond the glass begins to shroud you in a shadow of realization; there is a total absence of light. There are no lights, there are no houses nearby, there is nothing. You were in the middle of nowhere. You glance down to Matthew's battered sneakers and mud-caked jeans, and wonder how much trouble they went through to get you here.

He senses your staring, and looks to you, following your gaze and flushing.

"Oh, I'm so sorry. This is no outfit for a reunion as important as this." He laughs sheepishly, weakly. He had managed to swallow his tears, with the only evidence left behind being his reddish waterline and nostrils.

"I'll, uh, I'll go change– Just sit down anywhere you'd like. Those drugs will take a bit to leave your system. I'll fix you something up to wash it down as soon as I'm back, sweetie." Matthew stays for a moment, gnawing on his lip like he's weighing something out in his mind, before deciding to just go for it. He leans in to quickly place a kiss to your temple, and despite his attempt at nonchalance, he lets out a thin, shaky breath, before scampering off into what you assume is his bedroom.

Still nauseated, you hobble over to the couch and collapse onto it with more grace than you expected. You spare only a few seconds before forcing yourself back up, making the most of your time alone to examine the area without the pressure of Matthew watching you.

You scan the room quickly, making note of any possible exits. There are only two in this living room. The window, and the lone door against the other side of the room. Nearing and examining the window, you quickly find that it has a keyed lock, and rush over to the door.

Keyed, padlocked, deadbolted. God, he really went through the trouble of installing multiple of these. You could only imagine what his keyring looked like. You wonder if you could nab it.

A long-fingered hand clamps over your shoulder, digging into your collarbones and pulling you back. It's over so quickly you don't even have time to complain and yell about the pain.

"What do you wanna eat?" Matthew asks sweetly. His voice, though recognizable, is different from the way you remember it. His signature softspoken-ness is still there, but it's hoarse, slightly deeper. Maybe it's because he started smoking, but no cigarette can be owed the credit of the subtle confidence in his tone– Maybe not confidence, but some sort of certainty.

Your irises tremble slightly at the startle as you return his stare, before gulping and answering. "...Anything's fine."

"Pancakes it is." He shrugs, a small smile on his lips. As he walks to the quaint kitchen, he pulls a black hair tie off of his bony wrist and begins tidying his wavy, honey blond locks into a low ponytail. His hair's grown so much since you last saw him, and you can't help but think it suits him well.

It's not just his hair, the rest of him has grown, too. Matthew's gained a few inches of height, though he looks slimmer than before. You're unsure if he lost weight, or if his height just makes him look thinner than he actually is. He's aware of it, that he looks slightly worse for wear, but he couldn't help but lose his appetite being away from you for so long. He'll gain it back eventually to look good for you. I have to, he tells himself.

Now that he's rid of his jacket and clad in just a loose, plain graphic shirt, you get a better look of the wounds on his arms. It's mostly around his knuckles and palms, maybe he's clumsy, maybe he does a lot of physical labor, those are strangers to you, but you're familiar with the thin scars on the inside of his wrists. They're faded and old now, thank god, but you remember the long teary nights in college you'd spend trying to convince him not to hurt himself just because you couldn't spend time with him that week. You made him promise he wouldn't do it anymore, and judging by the lack of fresh wounds, he's kept his word. Though those memories make your head throb, you feel slightly proud.

You wobble over to the couch, deciding to take a seat to try and soothe the nausea bubbling about inside you. You remember those red plaid pajamas he's wearing, too. Always wore them whenever you came over. You wince as another wave of pain ripples through your skull, and you wonder if he's purposefully dressed himself like that to remind him of his most favorite time in his life, one that he thought was yours too.

That smell of butter, vanilla, and syrup doesn't help. While your stomach does respond to the smell, you can't help but think of Matthew first before the food. He always smelled faintly of maple syrup, along with hints of lavender and men's shower gel. His old apartment reeked of it. You never thought such an innocuous scent could bring you so much irritation.

Matthew glances behind him, finding your zoned out, furrow-browed stare.

"Your head hurting real bad?" He calls out from behind his back, focusing on the current stack of pancakes he was building by the stove.

"Yeah," You say under your breath. You're not sure why you even bothered responding if you knew you were gonna answer so silently. A part of you felt it rude had you just been unresponsive, but good god, forget the formalities, he'd kidnapped you!

After a few more moments of head-clutching silence, Matthew arrives, sitting on the couch and placing a plate of pancakes on the wooden coffee table in front of you.

"Come on now, you should eat. You've been knocked out for a while, you're about to miss lunch and dinner." He says lightly, a faint sternness in his voice, like he were speaking to a child. You scoff feebly.

"Nah, I... I don't really feel like eating." Despite the apparent hunger pangs in your stomach, you feel terribly sick in the throat, like you were constantly on the verge of retching. As much as you wanted to down the food he's prepared for you, just the thought of eating makes you gag.

He lets out a small laugh. "Want me to feed you?" Scooting closer, he leans down and tilts his head to get a better look at your pallid, gloomy face, heavy with queasiness. You're still so beautiful, he thinks.

You shake your head adamantly at that, immediately regretting it at the dull pain that amounts from the action. "No, no, I'm alright, Mattie," You bite your tongue when you realize you've called him by that stupid nickname again. "I feel like I'm gonna throw up."

He can't help the cheesy expression on his face and the way his heart flutters at the nickname. "It'll get worse if you don't eat." He pouts. "Come on, at least five bites." He picks up a fork, already slicing a small bit for you, and holding it up to your mouth.

You look at it with a small frown and wince in your expression, and his eyes darken.

"I'll tell you where one of the keys are if you eat."

Those words grab your attention immediately, and haplessly, you take a bite of the pancake he offers you. Matthew lets out an airy giggle.

"I remember you used to complain so much about this. Whenever I tried to feed you." He says with a pointy, wistful smile. "You've changed a lot over the years. Still so in love with you, though." His gaze is heartbreakingly warm.

You look at him, heart stopping in your chest for a moment at how sincerely he's looking at you. His heart does the same, but just at the mere action of you meeting his eyes, acknowledging his existence.

"You too." You say simply, despite your thoughts being so much more than those two words imply. When his cheeks redden and his lips gape, you quickly correct yourself. "Uh, that you've changed. Not that I love you." He huffs a dry chuckle.

"Figured, but I wanted to believe it." Matthew cuts up another piece of the pancake and offers it to you. You bite, and his blush only darkens. While you're chewing, he speaks again.

"You're not wearing that bracelet I made you anymore." He makes a sad face.

You swallow, "It's in my apartment. Felt too bad to throw it away." The light returns to his lavender eyes and he grins warmingly at you.

The bracelet is simple, a thin twist bracelet made with red thread, all entwined together with love. Matthew gave it to you during a morning class, blushing and stuttering. He made one for himself, too, like the red string of fate, he giggled when he said this, lovingly looking at the matching bracelets around your wrists. Now that your vision was less foggy, you can now see that what you thought was a wound was actually that same bracelet around his wrist. The color has faded slightly, more dull with dirt and age, while yours is still as vibrant as the day he gave it to you. It's a shame he didn't nab it when abducting you.

"You still care about me." He grins, almond eyes sparkling with mirth.

"To my own detriment." You smile emptily at him, taking the fork from his grasp and quickly eating the rest of what you owe him.

"The key?" You remind him, and he seems like a lost puppy for a moment, before it hits him, his pointy-fanged grin widening. He chuffs bashfully, as if a secret of his had been revealed, before he answers, awfully joyous; "Oh, I was lying." He laughs almost childishly.

A feeling of cold dread and shame drips from your head and down your shoulders. Of course, why did you assume so easily that he'd just hand that to you on a silver platter? At the same time, of course you would, he's Matthew Williams, the same man who gave you his coat and paid your bus fare the first time you two met. He insisted you kept it, said it suited you better and he's got hundreds more like it anyways. You did, you kept using it over the years even when you graduated. You used it this morning, maybe that's why it was so easy for him to recognize you. Your gullibility strikes you with chagrin and you can only retaliate by pushing back.

"What? We made a deal. Why would you lie to me?"

Matthew's usually docile expression falls, and suddenly you feel like you genuinely have no idea who this man is anymore, and you regret thinking that you could just walk all over him and out that door like you did all those years ago.

"Do you think you have any control over this situation, sweetie?" He crawls closer, palms dipping the couch cushions. "Did you really think I'd guard you so loosely? After all these years?" The collar of his shirt hangs from his neck as he leans down, collarbones prominent. "Did you think I'd let you leave me again? Stupid." He spits, though it seems like the final insult was more directed towards himself than you.

You scoot back until your back hits the armrest, and before you can try and slide off the couch, a lithe arm cages you in.

"It tore me up, ripped me to shreds and I came back a different person, but the only thing that stayed, that didn't change, was my love for you– No, my love for you is what broke me in the first place. Please, god, just soothe me a little." Matthew's voice crescendos until it cracks, hysterical expression making you relive the hell that was your college days together.

"Just love me a little." He whimpers weakly, before pressing a desperate kiss to your lips, moaning in surprise as if he wasn't the one to kiss you first. It's short, brief, like it zaps him, too much for his poor racing heart to handle. The bright smile returns to his face when he pulls away, breathless. It stays despite the horrified look on your face.

"Why are you so disgusted? You already tasted plenty of me in those pancakes. You looked so cute eating up my spit." He teases, his glee evident in his voice, the loose strands of his hair tickling your face. The realization of what you had just consumed, what now sits heavily in the pit of your stomach, was something of his, makes you dizzy with abhorrence. You try to push him off, but he slams your shoulder back into the cushions, hands vice-like and heavy against your skin.

Matthew is panting, and when he catches his breath, his eyes widen and his irises shake. You can see his pupils contract and dilate. "I'm sorry, I-I'm sorry– Didn't mean to– Ah, merde." He whimpers, dropping his head to the crook of your neck. He's already reduced to a groveling mess, and you've barely said anything. "Please love me, I didn't mean it, I'm sorry. I'm sorry, I love you!" He cries, and you hate that you really do feel sorry for him.

You hate him, hate the shit he keeps putting you through, hate how soft his voice is, hate how pathetic he is, hate how reliant he is on you, hate seeing his tears. You hate how he still manages to pull pity from you despite everything he's put you through.

With a shriek through gritted teeth, you fist his shirt and yank him down, this kiss is intended, and definitely felt like, more akin to an act of harm over love, but poor Matthew can't tell the difference.

He melts into it with a loving sigh despite his bleeding lips.

┊͙✧˖*°࿐

378 notes · View notes

endless-weightless · 4 months ago

Text

Ford Pines x GN!reader headcanons!

I'm surprised it took me this long to get into Gravity Falls. Anyways this has both SFW and NSFW so beware. There's also a brief mention of being AFAB as a possibility but other than that it's completely gender neutral (I'm 99% sure, I didn't proofread too well lol).

SFW

Right off the bat, I’m saying he’s autistic because so am I and I said so.

If you’re someone who needs reassurance or is generally anxious/paranoid about anything he’ll go into long (often scientific) explanations to ease your mind and also throw in some fun facts.

Both a listener and a yapper. He loves nothing more than the sound of your voice but also loves being able to spout all sorts of things about his research and interests while you stare at him lovingly.

Can’t sleep unless you’re next to him. You don’t even need to be cuddling, your presence is just the one thing he needs to fall asleep.

That being said, he will NEVER pass up an opportunity to cuddle. Watching a movie? Cuddling. Working at his desk in the lab? Cuddling on his lap. Cooking something in the kitchen? He’s got his arms wrapped around you as he presses loving kisses into your temple.

He rarely swears, but when he does it always makes you do a double-take (and maybe giggle because it sounds so odd coming from him).

Probably tried weed once or twice in the '70s and was somewhat part of the psychedelic rock scene. Stan has some old photos of him during that time somewhere but Ford is absolutely mortified by the idea of you seeing him in bell-bottom jeans.

It doesn’t matter how long you two have been together, every time he sees you he feels the same as he did the day you two met. Ford will never stop becoming flustered at the sight of you.

Post-Weirdmaggedon he became very anxious at the thought of you being out alone or not being near him. He feels like he needs to be on guard at all times so that he can protect you. He eventually calms down after some reassurance from you and a fuck ton of therapy.

While he lacks some emotional intelligence he’s actually very attentive and knows exactly what you need when you’re upfront about your feelings. As long as you’re not vague and communicate, he knows what to do to help you.

Adding onto that, I think he briefly studied psychology in college so he’d have a pretty good understanding of any mental health issues you might have.

Said “No more Mr Nice Guy” one time and hasn’t heard the end of it from anyone.

NSFW

Has to stop himself from cumming too quickly when you tell him how good he’s making you feel. Stroking his ego (and other things) is the best way to get him horny.

Will always ask you for consent no matter what it is. You could be mid-fuck and he’d still ask if he could put his hands on your hips.

This is just my personal headcanon but I believe while he didn’t really have too much experience before he got stuck on the other side of the portal (probably hooked up with Fiddleford once or twice tho), I fully believe that after a few years of dimension-hopping, he would’ve had a few one-night stands (mans gotta blow off some steam). So when he gets the chance to fuck you, a real human from his dimension, he’s more than ecstatic, especially since he’s picked up more than a few tricks over the past thirty years.

Knows how to use all twelve of his fingers.

Since Ford was sucked into the portal in the early ’80s and spent thirty years in there, he’s super confused when you mention shaving down there or being embarrassed about your body hair (if you do either) since the last time he was around everyone preferred going all natural.

This one’s less sexy but I’m putting it here anyways. He avoided taking off his shirt for ages since he didn’t want you to see all the scars he’d gotten over the years or any of the tattoos related to the things he did in the portal, especially the ones related to Bill. Surprisingly not as insecure about his “Flirty Gal” tramp stamp.

Doesn’t understand that he’s ridiculously hot.

You jokingly said “Yes sir” one time and he got hard so quickly.

Although he does rather enjoy you taking the lead.

Loves experimenting with cock warming and edging. Literally. He’ll time the both of you and have everything written down somewhere and draw a graph with extra info like if you’re someone with a menstrual cycle and how that affects the results.

#gravity falls #x reader #fanfiction #stanford pines #ford pines #stanford pines x reader #ford pines x reader #smut #headcanons

242 notes · View notes

flowerquib · 1 year ago

Text

CREATION

why must you hurt me why must you hate me why must you do i need this is this for me

do i need pain?

...I am important.

guys i love him so muchhhh ahhh i meant to post this yesterday but I forgor

anyways

very brief character sheet bc im gonna go on a ramble

Main things: - he has no face besides a mouth qtubbo built (i will get into that) - the wheel of glowing eyes constantly move - he's like an inverse of my qtubbo design (the robotic parts of his body switched sides)

I have 2 stories but one thing stays the same

Creation acts as a guardian/protector off the eggs and uses any force necessary (aka his pointing making people disappear or making them "logging out")

ALRIGHT to my little story (based off hc and the theories)

PRESENT ROBOT Creation was made by qtubbo (in the present) and is gaining his own consciousness. That's why the others can't tell qtubbo. This also goes off the theory of fed tubbo (or not it kinda doesn't matter?) Basically, Creation was made up by a spare qtubbo body that qtubbo found. The spare body was a failed experiment by the fed that they threw out. Qtubbo found it and was like "hey this could be cool." He built this robot that is somewhat sentient (connected emotionally to qtubbo in a way).

TIME TRAVEL Creation is a future qtubbo that has been so changed/deformed that has come back to the present. He vaguely knows who he is and his purpose. He's just a confused little guy. I might go back to add more but that's the basis for this one. okay thats all i have rn ive been distracted by tubbo stream lol

#tubbo #tubbo fanart #qsmp tubbo #qsmp #q tubbo #qsmp creation #qsmp fanart #guys they give off such a frankenstein vibe i love him #also guys why is Creation afraid of water or something #eh ill make another blog about that

366 notes · View notes

mer-acle · 2 months ago

Note

i know i should not ask this but, what are your Athena ig wump headcannons :3 dont worry i have alot of time on my hands

okay okay okay

I think I'm gonna make this mainly trauma/whump potential themed. Like think, how do you break the owl? lol

Pain: I don't see Athena as scared of pain in general. She wouldn't mind being nicked in battle or something (she would bc of pride and being told she has to be perfect, but not the pain) I am willing to bet she's cut herself out of curiosity of what it feels like. Now if there's pain on top of other stuff, that's when she starts to fall apart. She's not used to dealing with physical pain, and if she's otherwise compromised (read: God Games) it becomes a problem.

Breathing: That's more of a general god hc I decided for whump purposes. The gods do have a breathing reflex and while they don't die from lack of oxygen + don't have negative effects if they actively choose not to breathe (like underwater), but like... yes gods can hyperventilate... or have trouble breathing... do with that what you will (like i do, I reaaaallly do stuff with this factoid)

Water: It's a winged!Athena specific one for me, but could be applied to any version. Athena's not a fan of water in general and afraid of being fully submerged in particular. She got somewhat used to it after a while living with Triton, but since Pallas' death, it's gotten worse and she hasn't really been in the water since. (This all came to be bc I found out that owls are actually terrible swimmers bc their wings aren't waterproof so they just have to get to shore to dry off... and wings weighed down by water sounds pretty scary

Control: Kinda vague, but shapes my entire approach to her. Athena is all about control. Anything that messes with that is BAD. Fever? An injury that you can't just push your way past? Drugs, medical or otherwise? She would literally rather be in excruciating pain. Like... if she's mentally not well, having shaky hands or dropping something might already be cause for a negative spiral it's that bad. Speaking of...

Mental health (Pt. 1) (to be continued) Ah I posted accidentally okay wait I'll make a part 2 and link it 😖

#epic the musical #epic athena #whump writing #athena whump #epic headcanon

49 notes · View notes

creampuffqueen · 7 months ago

Note

I wanna hear more avatar headcanons! From the novels or just the avatars themselves! I loved reading your kavik and yangchen hcs 🥹🫶🏻

ahhh thank you!! i'm glad you like my random thoughts lol 🫶

here are a few more random thoughts i've been having that i just haven't quite made into posts yet (mostly yangvik because i love them but some other avatars as well):

yangchen is actually a terrible cook 💀 she's basically always had people taking care of her so she never really needed to learn! she can make a good cup of tea and that's about it. she regularly burns rice. she's also just generally bad at remembering to feed herself. kavik, who is a decent cook, is largely the only reason she remembers to eat

as for the other known avatars: kyoshi is by FAR the best cook. she's genuinely good at it. aang is a very close second. roku, kuruk, and wan are all average at it. korra has been banned from every kitchen in republic city

yangchen and kavik both strike me as people who really enjoy physical touch. they both really enjoy cuddling with each other, even before their relationship turns more romantic. acts of service is also a major love language for them

i also feel very strongly that they never used typical labels for their relationship. they usually referred to each other as their 'partner', occasionally 'lover', but most often just continued to use 'companion'. these vague labels frustrate scholars to no end, and today in the atla universe nobody can agree on the nature of their relationship. which is exactly how they wanted it lol, they were extremely private about their relationship

yangchen does have the iconic crooked smile that all the avatars share, but it only comes out when she's well and truly happy about something

her laugh is the same way. she has a very convincing fake laugh, as her real laugh is kind of 'ugly'. it's some kind of snorting, wheezing sound that kind of sounds like she's dying but is also absolutely adorable. yangchen hates it. kavik adores it, and will make an absolute fool of himself trying to hear it

yangchen is a massive, merciless flirt and takes great pleasure in seeing just how red she can make kavik's face turn. but on the rare occasion kavik gets enough confidence to flirt back, she turns into a total mess

pik and pak's favorite place to sleep is right on top of kavik's face

because of how hard she works herself, yangchen often falls asleep in the strangest places. if she's actually tired, she can fall asleep literally anywhere. it's simultaneously a superpower and a massive annoyance

a somewhat sad/bittersweet headcanon i have is that yangchen dies first. i've seen a lot of people saying that she lives to 150 but i can't find a source for that anywhere so i'm choosing to ignore it. yangchen has already watched too many loved ones die, she doesn't need to see kavik die before her as well. they both live very long lives, but kavik outlives her by a few years. after yangchen's death, he returns home to the northern water tribe

at one point, only a few months before his death, he is out for a walk when a little toddler wanders up to him all alone. he chats with him for a few minutes until the boy's parents find them and thank him for watching over their son. 'kuruk, what have we told you about wandering off like that?' the mother asks. the toddler waves goodbye, and kavik walks home feeling oddly contented. he never meets the boy again, and he dies well before kuruk is revealed as the avatar, but he feels a sense of peace from the interaction, knowing deep down that yangchen has made it safely back into the material world

when kavik dies, he wills his bone necklace to kuruk's family. they don't understand why until kuruk's sixteenth birthday. (SERIOUSLY THEIR NECKLACES LOOK ALMOST IDENTICAL ITS WILD)

that's all the thoughts i can scrape up off the top of my head, but i'm just generally thinking about avatar characters All The Time lmao. thank you for asking!!!

#notsosecrettunnel #atla #tlok #chronicles of the avatar #yangvik #yangchen x kavik #avatar yangchen #kavik #yangchen novels #avatar kuruk #atla headcanons

123 notes · View notes

golbrocklovely · 5 months ago

Text

outsiders // colin and penelope

A/N: i know this is unlike anything i've posted before on here. i'll be honest, idk how else to explain this other than i direly need to see luke newton play a vampire, so this is about as good as it's gonna get until then. this is also very vaguely based off of a tweet that said this picture of polin makes them look like a cunty vampire couple and you know what??? they ain't wrong about that lol i used direct lines from the show, particularly in the drinking scene with the boys and the carriage love confession (which will be in part two). there are also some quotes and line sprinkled throughout that are similar to those in the show/book. but most of the dialogue is not from the show/book directly. also this is the first time i've ever written a fanfic using characters rather than real ppl… well minus a spn fanfic i never finished. so, please be kind since it's all fiction anyway. hope you enjoy and lmk what you think :)

prompt: Colin is trying to deal with the fact that he is not only in love with his best friend, but that he is incredibly lost as to who he is as a person. It also doesn't help that he's a monster; a vampire. Pen just wants her freedom, her ability to be Whistledown without anymore people finding out. And in her mind, Debling is the solution to her problem. But one fateful night brings Penelope and Colin together in ways they never imagined.

trigger warning: jealous!colin, protective!colin, AU!vampire, the entire bridgerton family are vampire, colin's friends are dicks lol, formal english (but that's a given), vampire powers, manipulation, ANGSTY AS HELL, idiots to lovers (not until part two), somewhat of a cliff hanger but not really since the next part will be out soon, mentions of blood/blood drinking

word count: 3054

~~~~~~~~~~~

Colin knew deep within himself that going out with Fife and the rest of his so-called friends was a mistake. Mostly because his mind was preoccupied tonight, many thoughts swirling around him; all of which pertained to a certain red head he had known since childhood. The mistake was thinking that he could relax while being around these exhausting men and their childish ways.

However he really did need some revelry after what he witnessed during the day.

When he walked into the library party and caught Pen with Debling, smiling and laughing at whatever he was saying, his blood boiled. A permanent frown etched into his face and had stayed there the entirety of the day.

"Say, what ails you, Bridgerton? Are you not enjoying your night?"

Colin turned to Stanton, blinking slowly. He took a swig of his drink, shaking his head. "I am well. Please continue with your story."

Stanton smirked, turning back to the table, "On my Grand Tour, I encountered this Greek girl in the Balkans. My bear leader..."

Colin zoned out again, unable to truly listen much longer to the men's stories of different conquests they had over the summer. His mind was still reeling, his thoughts ever consumed by the image of Penelope. Of their shared kiss. Of his constant reoccurring dreams of her and him.

"She sounds like the young woman who made my time in the French Quarter worth the length of the voyage. Much to offer upstairs, and I do not mean her mind." Lord Wilding motioned with his hands, causing all three men to burst into laughter. Colin sighed, staring at the ground for a moment.

Fife looked up at Colin, "What about you, Bridgerton? You were gone for quite a while. I am sure the girls of summer made your trip quite... fulfilling?"

The gentlemen chortled, and Colin could feel them all eyeing him, waiting for an answer. "I did tell you my story of the contessa, did I not?"

"Yes, but you did not give details." Stanton whined.

Colin half-heartedly smiled, "Well, a gentleman must keep some things to himself."

Wilding pffted, "Oh, come now. I do not see a gentleman amongst us."

"I concur with you there." Colin shook a finger at them. The gentlemen gave him a quizzical look, freezing him for a moment. "Oh, forgive me… But it is tiring, is it not? The necessity imposed on us to remain cavalier about the one thing in life that holds genuine meaning. Do you not find it lonely?"

Colin gazed upon the men, hoping to see agreeing eyes; but instead the table chuckled at his expense. He sat back in his chair, defeated.

"This wouldn't have anything to do with a certain Featherington girl, now would it?" Fife teased, his glazed eyes staring at Colin's face.

"You know, Bridgerton? Congratulations are in order. I heard that apparently Debling plans to propose to her." Stanton raised his glass, "The marriage mart whisperer actually made a match. Cheers."

"May God have mercy on that poor man's soul." Wilding whispered, finishing his drink.

Colin narrowed his eyes, "I beg your pardon?"

"I know you have a fondness for the girl, but I cannot fathom what type of wife she would be. I would never marry a Featherington, but especially Penelope." Wilding remarked, almost disgusted.

"Maybe that's why Debling plans to travel for years." Fife quipped.

"Well, like your lady in the French Quarter, she at least has a lot to offer upstairs." Stanton snickered.

Colin leapt to his feet, his chair slamming to the floor. His hands were clenched tightly at his sides as his anger raged through him. His red eyes shot up, glaring deeply into the gentlemen's souls, captivating them instantly.

"You will never speak about Penelope or the Featheringtons ever again. And if ever asked about them, you will say nothing but the kindest of words." Colin grunted, his gaze shifting from man to man, "If I ever hear you speak badly about her or her family again, I will tear your throat out with my teeth. Your trivial existence will be ended, and the ladies of the Ton will be better for it... Know this as true, but forget I said this."

The gentlemen blinked rapidly, clearing their throats and looking at each other confused. Fife glanced behind Colin, "What happened to your chair?"

Colin smoothed out his vest, calming himself, "Oh, it must have fallen over when I stood up. Goodbye gentlemen, I am growing rather tired of this night."

~~~

Colin had the privilege of being born a vampire; and with that privilege came the ability to manipulate those around him. However, there were only two types of people he couldn't manipulate: other vampires - which really only applied to his family since he knew of no others - and those he was in love with. That applied to all the Bridgerton siblings. It was their own little family quirk, as they so lovingly called it. In a way, it kept everyone in check. Because they knew out of everyone in the Ton, the people they loved couldn't fall victim to their ability.

But luckily for everyone in the Ton, the Bridgertons were a good family. Violet had taught her children to seldom use their ability, and the children all followed suit. Hyacinth and Gregory did occasionally use it on the maids in the house, so that he could get extra sweets or she, the latest issue of Whistledown before bed; but for the most part all of the Bridgerton siblings fell in line with Violet's beliefs.

While most of the Bridgertons enjoyed being vampires, Colin did not. Maybe it was because he was battling with himself over who he truly was. All this did was make him feel even more like an outsider. He wanted to be normal, to be known and loved for who he is, but how could he? He was a monster.

And now this monster, deeply annoyed by the past couple weeks of events, was on the search for blood.

Colin did not enjoy hunting. In the day, when he couldn't hunt, it was easier to forget what he was. But at night, his cardinal urges always came to the surface.

Hunting on the poorer side of London wasn't challenging. There was always someone out and about. And Colin only needed a little bit of blood. None of them ever killed; the rule was only take what you need and leave no trace. And they were all excellent at that.

The worst that could happen was being caught by authorities. Or even worse, somehow ending up in Lady Whistledown.

Colin lurked around a corner, waiting impatiently for a passerby. He glanced at the printer shop, the light inside telling him someone was there. He needed to move further away, in case those inside would hear his victim if they were to scream out suddenly.

He casually walked down the cobblestone street, his sense of smell picking up someone near. It was a woman; that he was sure of.

He knew he should have just drank from the prostitutes, the ones he couldn't even bring himself to sleep with tonight. But he didn't like the idea of drinking from them. They oddly had shown him kindness, something he couldn't even acquire from his friends.

A woman rounded the corner. She was young, and her dark black hair was slightly unkempt. Colin rushed over to her, their eyes meeting instantly. The only sound she was able to make was a small gasp.

"Don't be scared, Miss . This will be over quickly. I'm just so...." he swallowed hard, "hungry."

Colin cupped the woman's face, turning her head so her neck was more on display. His fangs grew, his mouth watering at the thought of blood. Her pulse had quicken when he rushed her, her blood now calling his name. He sunk his teeth in, moaning as the liquid poured into his mouth. He closed his eyes, his thoughts shifting slowly back to familiar ones...

Penelope.

He hated admitting it, but he had wanted to drink from Pen. His dreams not only consisted of touching her in the most inappropriate ways or confessing that their kiss was all he thought about; it was how he longed to bite her neck, taste her salty skin and rich blood. He knew she would be heavenly, but he never allowed himself to ponder on it too long. These were fantasies after all. She would never, ever find out what he was. And he would not damn her to a life like this.

He groaned against the woman's neck, lapping up spilt blood. Penelope was haunting him, even in real life. How was it that he could smell her, even right now? Even with his mouth on a different woman's neck, drinking her life essence, was he able to feel Pen's presence? It's like he could hear her say his name.

Colin glanced up, the printer shop illuminating the archway leading onto the street. A short person stood frozen, watching him.

He froze too, his eyes focusing on the figure. The woman in his arms slurred incoherently. His eyes connected with her for a split second, telling her to forget what occurred and to go home. He pushed her off down a separate street, his eyes remaining on the silhouette.

He took a whiff of the air, his eyes widening.

The person ran the opposite way, racing back towards a carriage nearby. Colin made it there long before they could, grabbing them by the shoulders and pushing them up against the wall. His hand covered their mouth instantly, staring deep into the blue eyes he was captivated by since childhood.

"Penelope?"

~~~

Penelope had known the Bridgertons were vampires for years. While she might have met Colin first, Eloise had been her closest friend; mostly because it took Pen a while to really strike up the courage to actually talk to Colin. But when Eloise and her were young, outside and playing in her mother's garden, El casually told her what she was. At first, Pen didn't believe her. Who would believe such a thing without proof? El suddenly waltzed up to a butler nearby and told him to start doing a dance for her, and he did. The girls laughed at the sight, and from that moment on, Pen knew.

She never asked questions, but she was curious as to what vampires were really like. El wouldn't confirm anything to her, understandably wanting to keep some things private. And once Lady Whistledown rose to power in the Ton, El was even more hush about vampirism. Pen could tell she was nervous about her family's secret getting out there. But Pen assured her that Whistledown would never write on such a thing, otherwise she would become the laughingstock of Mayfair.

And now with El completely ignoring her because of Whistledown, she hoped that El understood that statement still rang true. While she would write about what everyone was talking about, no one but her knew their real secret. She would never share it, even if her and Eloise were no longer close.

The carriage came to a stop, the footman opening her door swiftly. She stepped out, the newest addition of Whistledown in her hand. She smirked as she read it over, noting how many in the Ton were speaking on her and Debling's possible engagement. While Pen did not enjoy being the center of attention, she did enjoy knowing that the sniveling mamas of the Ton were wrong about her.

Not only was Penelope courted, she was going to get married. That is, assuming she accepted Debling's proposal. Or that he actually planned to ask her mother tomorrow.

A life with Debling seemed... fine, to her. And if that's all she could get, she would take it. She wanted a love filled marriage, that was true; but maybe time would change that. It's possible that Debling one day might love her. Or that she may grow to fully accept what she had.

Part of her hated admitting it, but her feelings for Colin were still there too. But she accepted that reality as a fantasy and nothing more. Somehow, vampires were real, but Colin reciprocating her feelings wasn't.

God had a very wicked sense of humor.

She walked down the street, turning the corner to the printer shop. When she raised her hand to knock, something caught her eye. She gazed down the street, two figures stood out in the open. It appeared to be a man and a woman. She squinted her eyes, watching them. The man cupped the woman's jaw, burying his face into her neck. Pen blushed at the notion. She had thoughts similar to that of her and Colin. Dreams, even. But to see two people doing something like that, so out in the open, was very scandalous to her. She wanted to look away, but curiosity got the better of her.

The couple swayed into the light unintentionally, and Pen's eyes widened.

The man's mouth was latched onto the woman's neck, and she was limp in his arms. It almost appeared like he was biting her. As she took in the man, she noted his dark brown coat. His tall stature and quaffed hair were familiar to her. It almost looked like...

"Colin?" She whispered.

The man looked up, locking eyes with Pen. She gasped, seeing his face for the first time. Dear Lord in Heaven, it was Colin. His mouth was stained red from blood and his fangs were prominent, even from such a distance away.

Her heart raced, and she knew she needed to get out of there, now.

She spun on her heel, running back to the carriage. Before she was able to get remotely close, her body was pushed up against the wall, her mouth covered.

"Penelope?" Colin hissed, his red eyes almost glowing in the dark.

She studied his face, taking in the features she had yet to see of him. His eyes were the most surprising, but his fangs were shocking up close.

"I am going to remove my hand. Please don't scream." He moved his hand slowly, her face feeling hot from his skin touching hers. "What are you doing out here?"

"I could ask you the same question, Colin." Pen argued.

"It is none of your concern, Pen. Whatever you saw..." Colin fought to speak, "was not what it looks like."

Pen suddenly became aware of the Whistledown papers in her hand, "Well, if that's the case, then I should be heading back home."

"You didn't answer my question. Why are you-" He began.

She cut him off, trying to sidestep him. "Colin, I need to-"

"What is that in your hand?" He questioned, pointing down.

Her blood ran cold. "W-What?"

Colin grabbed the papers from Pen's hands before she could stop him, her heart dropping instantly.

He gazed at the papers, reading over the words hastily. She backed up, her body hitting the wall. His stare hardened, eyes watering. "You're... Whistledown."

The hurt in his eyes, his voice, made Pen instantly tear up, "Colin, please I can-"

Colin backed away from her, "I cannot believe this. How could you?"

Pen wiped away her tears, "I am terribly sorry, Colin. Please let me expl-"

"No, no. I do not want your explanation. What is there to explain? Clearly you are the one who has been writing such horrid things about my family. I cannot believe you would do this to us. To El." He choked out, "To me."

She begged, "Colin, let me explain myself."

"On top of being Whistledown, you come out here in the middle of the night to do your dealings. Unchaperoned, and presumably with no one knowing where you are. You could seriously get hurt! Not only could you ruin your reputation, but you could be harmed. How can you be so careless, Penelope?" He furrowed his brow, his eyes boring into hers.

Pen hated being talked down to. Who was Colin to act so scared for her safety, or her reputation for that matter? He was a vampire, for God's sake. She spat, "The only thing out here that seems to be harmful is you, Colin."

She knew she made a grave mistake. Damn her mouth.

Colin's eyes glowered at her, his body tensing. "What did you say?"

"I-I," Pen took a moment, gathering the courage to speak. "I saw you, Mr. Bridgerton. You weren't simply... caressing some random woman on the street. You were feeding on her. You're a vamp-"

He glared into her soul, demanding, "You are going to forget we had this conversation. You are going to forget what you saw moments ago. You are going to go home. Now."

Pen copied his gaze, shaking her head. "Who are you to tell me what to do? Have you gone mad?"

This was a terrible time to find out that Colin was, in fact, in love with Penelope. He knew he was, but the timing of it all really could not have been worse.

Colin growled, walking up to Pen's carriage door and opening it for her. "Get inside, Penelope. We will talk about this on the way back to your home."

"How can I trust to get in a carriage with you? Are you still hungry?" She sassed, her hands on her hips.

He lowered his gaze, his eyes darkening. "Do not make me force you inside."

Her skin felt hot suddenly, his tone hitting deep within her body. She had never seen Colin like this, and she wasn't sure what to make of it.

Her mind was cautious, nervous. But her body... felt something else entirely.

She sighed, stepping inside her carriage with the help of Colin. He followed her in, sitting across from her. He called out to the footman to go to the Featherington residence.

"Take the long way, please." Colin sat back against the seat, staring at Pen.

"Make a stop at the Bridgerton's house first... please." She called out. The footmen acknowledged their commands, and Colin rolled his eyes at her petty attempt of control. She squirmed under his gaze, unable to make eye contact with him.

He asked bitingly. "Should you start or should I?"

|| Part 2 >>

#colin x penelope #colin bridgerton #penelope featherington #penelope bridgerton #bridgerton #colin bridgerton x penelope featherington #polin #colin x penelope fanfic #bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton fanfic #bridgerton fic #luke newton #nicola coughlan

49 notes · View notes

unionizedwizard · 14 days ago

Text

actually to develop a bit further because i Have thought about it. so irma grew up in ul'dah with an adoptive family who kept reminding her of the fact she was beholden to them as an ala mhigan refugee (and in a much better position than any of her peers could hope for). the fact her status & cultural identity were kept hidden from public opinion was considered as a favor they were making her. said family was an arrivist and ambitious merchant couple so they made a huge show of worshiping nald'thal and giving generous alms to the order (while not taking irma with them or allowing her to go, which is why she never officially enrolled at the thaumaturges' guild despite being a full-fledged black mage by now). i also headcanon that due to the political situation & the capitalism-flavored anti-refugee sentiment/xenophobia prevalent in ul'dah until late/post stormblood at the very least, and considering the deep religious sentiment embedded in ala mhigan culture & particularly the refugees we met (the little ala mhigo episode & attempted rhalgr summoning come to mind), rhalgr as a deity has been undermined and disliked in ul'dah - you know how it is with "religious conflicts" - his cult being associated with the lowest classes & basically the undocumented migrants being used as little more than slave labor for the 20+ years of garlean rule over gyr abania, and therefore associated with ideas like "savagery", "foreigners", etc. i also have the feeling that the fact the cult (and order) of nald'thal being quite transparently a political organization (they're in charge of maintaining the roads throughout thanalaan!) makes the very sincere (and somewhat extreme, in certain cases) beliefs of rhalgr's followers a bit "quaint" and "primitive" to them - like the cult of the fury in ishgard might seem a bit "too much" for the average sharlayan whose reverence of thaliak is more of a symbolic & practical thing than anything else. the very idea of "destruction" must appear as unsavory and inelegant to the average ul'dahn by ARR in my opinion, especially when THEIR deity is an elegant metaphor: a double-deity of both death and commerce - everything being passed around in one fluid, harmonious motion, unlike the raw strength and more "basic" aspect of the meteor imagery

all this to say that, considering this is pretty much all she knew about her origins, irma has always clung very tightly to her religious practices & the worship of rhalgr, mostly inwardly. when she starts practicing thaumaturgy on her own and realizes channeling lightning-aspected spells feels like second nature to her, she (joyfully) concludes that rhalgr favors her and that he has heard her prayers. it also brings a measure of comfort about the fact she can't cast/channel healing magicks, because it seems to confirm her (vague) assumption that she's been chosen to become the destroyer's hand in eorzea. this religious foundation + a similarly vague, unexplained feeling both prime her to become hydaelyn's champion and so she leaps into the role immediately without asking questions during ARR, complete faith & unbreakable devotion, the whole deal

she was REAL mad when the whole "the ascian taught us how to summon rhalgr as a primal :( sorry" plot beat happened LOL. supreme impiety & blasphemy in her eyes, and the fact she can very much understand where they're coming from makes her even angrier out of a feeling of helplessness

#irma #you will read my run-on sentences (fake concept) (all my favorite authors write pages-long sentences OKAY)

22 notes · View notes

apatheticrater · 5 months ago

Note

i think you posted or reblogged a picture of mike faist that was giving professor! art and mentioned how he kinda looked like spencer reid and that reminded me of something lol (if this wasn’t you, i’m so sorry. my memory has been shit lately 😭)

when my best friend was in high school, there was a teacher who started in the middle of the year who also looked like spencer reid (how i remembered this lol) and he and this other teacher were CONSTANTLY flirting with each other. got so bad that because her and other students knew they were both single, they started telling each of them to ask each other out. they did. and now they’ve been engaged for sometime

so it got me thinking of being a teacher at a school and teacher!art randomly coming in the middle of the year. you’re the only two teachers around your age and constantly flirting with each other in that subtle way teachers do, except everyone knows and just thinks you should get together already…

You were correct!! I was referring to this gorgeous photo of him <3

I also made this into headcanons because it's what felt the most right to me when trying to write it. I left reader's gender and what type of school they teach at somewhat vague as well <3

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆

Teacher Art x Teacher Reader headcanons

Art was a newer teacher, having come in the middle of the year after the usual history teacher went on maternity leave

It was his first year as a full-time teacher, having only done substitute work previously

You were an English teacher whose classroom shared a wall with Art’s, and you were his first friend on the staff

You had already been working at the school for two years at this point, so you knew your way around and the students pretty well by now, making you the perfect candidate to give Art advice and show him around

You were both on the younger side of the spectrum in terms of the teachers around the school, and you were closer to your students, making you the perfect victims of their jokes and sass (when appropriate)

You guys quickly became good friends and after two months of Art working at the school you guys started to flirt with each other heavily

Whether it was started as jokes between close friends or due to genuine attraction to each other, no one knew, but either way, your students had a field day with it

Every time either of you would enter each other's class, whether to ask a question or grab something you needed/left behind earlier in the day your students would start be little shits making jokes or ‘ooooo’ing at you two, gossiping about things like “did you see how Mr. Donaldson looked at them?” and “Have you noticed that they smile at Mr. Donaldson in a completely different way than they do everyone else?” and so on

It becomes such a running joke around the school that it’s something every student talks about at least once in class, which leads to your boss having to ask you guys to, ‘please tell the students to stop talking about your relationship’

Despite not being able to talk about you guys in class anymore, they still try to set you guys up, especially when they get the confirmation that you’re both still single

It’s almost like that one plotline from ‘Clueless,’ when Cher and Dionne try to set up their two teachers by tricking them into situations together and making them think they both like the other

They keep coming up with excuses that force you guys into the same room; Friends texting each other while one of them is in your class and the other is in Arts, coincidentally both of them need something printed and their computers just ‘won’t work’

They tell you that Art said your hair looked nice today, they give Art a small gift and say it was from you (even though it’s so obvious those things aren’t true because you could’ve walked to each other's class instead of having the students do it for you)

They keep telling you guys to ��just ask each other out already!’ saying ‘you already flirt constantly’ among other things

What they don’t know is that you and Art already are dating and have been since months before he started, you just found it too funny to not mess with the students and let them try to matchmake you two, plus it showed they cared about you guys

They were shocked the first time one of them saw you leave the school in the same car, you kissing Art's cheek before the car pulled out of the lot

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆

#challengers #art donaldson #art donalson x reader #headcanons #gn reader

34 notes · View notes

theamityelf · 8 months ago

Note

If you had to put a twist on Makoto's parents what would it be? Honestly the fandom doesn't do them any justice, I barely see any headcanons with them and that makes me a bit bummed. I saw someone make a post on how maybe they were ultimates in the past with Makoto and Komaru vaguely inherting their talents (Ultimate Lawyer for the mom and Ultimate Sniper for the dad). What really caught my interest though was when someone pointed out that the reason Komaru might be so cool with Toko/Syo is because one or both of her parents were kinda yanderes. Mr. Naegi definitely has that look that something is off about him so it kinda works but Mrs. Naegi could be to but manages to behave in a way that doesn't draw attention to her.

Honestly I could see how Makoto's strong belief may have come from them as well but that might be a bit far fetched. I just enjoy the idea of everyone thinking Makoto and Komaru are normal only for them to turn around and do some crazy sh*t.

The funny thing is, before I clicked to check this ask, when I only saw the first sentence, I was already thinking in somewhat yandere terms.

(Also, all of this is just me brainstorming, lol.)

I don't think I want them to be Ultimates, because I really value when characters aren't Ultimates, but I definitely lean in the direction of them being lowkey super abnormal in ways that resulted in both their kids' guise of normalcy and their kids' unusual tolerance for ridiculosity.

The first thing I imagined (again, before I read the full ask) was that Mr. or Mrs. Naegi killed the teacher who snuck into Komaru's room that one time. Like, they caught him sneaking in and now he's buried in their yard, and when Komaru brought up seeing a ghost in her room, they were just like "That's right, honey, it was a ghost." I don't know if I more enjoy the idea of them being hypocrites about this (like, teaching the kids that murder is Just Wrong no matter what, without a hint of irony) or super honest (like, "Murder is wrong, but if someone messes with my kids, I'll kill 'em. I'll do it." "Daaaad..." "We're not saying we want to, honey, we're just saying we will." "Moooom!")

(Or maybe we could take that same intensity, and instead of murder, make it more psychological warfare, to kind of mirror Makoto and Komaru's people skills.)

Just generally, I find it fun to imagine the Naegi parents as almost bizarre caricatures of normalcy. Almost like they're putting on an act of what humans are like, except they genuinely think they're being normal. They're deliberately availing their kids of the most basic, popular media enjoyed by the masses, because that's what people do; those are the things people enjoy. (They'll go to the movies, not having seen any trailers or feeling any anticipation for a particular film, and they just pick whatever movie the most other people in the ticket line went for.) They know the exact average time most people have dinner and that's dinnertime for the house. (It doesn't end in :00, :15, :30, or :45; it is a very irregular and specific time.)

It sounds like it would be strict and meticulous, but in execution, they're so casual about it that it wouldn't seem weird until you heard them explain it.

When Makoto says he's extremely average, he's not just being self-deprecating; he is giving an accurate description of his family's lifestyle.

#danganronpa #mr naegi #mrs naegi #naegi parents #makoto naegi #komaru naegi

59 notes · View notes

twopoppies · 2 months ago

Note

Hi Gina!! First of all, I wanted to thank you and Daisie and everyone else here for the amazing Larry masterlist. I'm a new larrie myself, though I've been around the fandom since 2011 (tho not super closely) when WMYB MV was released. I was deep diving on receipts, and as per usual, I took it all in with a grain of salt and kept all my conclusions rational and unbiased. I just wanna add something you might consider a receipt, connecting to one of the tour receipts ones I’ve read on Daisie’s tags (I dove into both yours and Daisie’s tags lol). This isn't so big and new at all but I thought I'd add. Sorry in advance if I am too vague with this lol

A quick context: I had worked with small event productions here in my country, and had become pretty close with suppliers (tech, security, venue, etc). I got curious about an entry I read from your receipts tag which happened in an international tour here. Anyway, I am pretty close with our security supplier, and I thought I'd check if there were traces of them working with the boys. After a few google search, I saw them with Louis on a video during his tour here - confirming that at least for that show, they did work with Louis. He has been very open to me ever since we met, so when I DMed him about being involved in the show, he enthusiastically answered that they did all 1D-related ones in the country.

Anyway, bottomline, I tried to ask if it's true that Louis was here during Harry's concert because I've kind of heard it somewhere (being the receipt I read from Daisies' account). That’s when he got weirdly super silentl and left me on ‘seen’/‘read’ (which had never happened EVER before). I waited with the chat box open; he se seemed type after a few mins - and then stopped completely. When I realized he (c)wouldn't reply, I didn't push it and said he doesn't have to respond and that I respect if he’s bound by certain contracts. After that, he immediately replied, basically just saying "Thank you" (for understanding, essentially). We just chatted a bit more before ending the convo.

So I guess I'd say it somewhat solidifies that theory in my head because I personally know them, and if there's really something super big they cannot share at all, they WONT. I knew there was something because it was almost comical for me how he suddenly left me on ‘read’. So if it's not a big deal at all he would've shared because we've talked about other works they've done in the past (he was so enthusiastic and shared all the names of the shows they've done with 1D a few mins prior lol) - but when I specifically asked if Louis was with Harry here for his tour, he immediately closed off and stopped replying - and THEN thanked me when I said he didn’t have to reply lol (I didn’t ask anything else, just that exact wording, straightforwardly asking if L was there during H's show, and I didn’t phrase it in a playful or teasing way like I am implying there’s smth gossip-worthy between them I'm fishing out of him)

ANYWAY, I’m not even sure if this is worth posting but I needed someone to share it with and I thought it could be like a backup info for the future hahahaha I am trying to be vague because I do want to protect myself and my (in a way) source (?). But if you need any clarification from me - I’d be open to elaborate more in the dms (I’m rusty with tumblr so I hope I can navigate this properly lol)

Ofc, a part of me wish I could've gotten something, but I also respect them for staying quiet. And even if they did share something big, I might've had second thoughts on sharing bcs I was mainly asking it for my own sanity tbh, knowing that I knew who the security team was lol So I guess my point of sharing this with you is to basically share that the usual NDA thing with H&L, whether as a whole 1D unit before or as solos, is definitely enforced here. That the silence somewhat solidified my belief of other Larry receipts such as 1.) in relation to the Argentinian security confessions, and 2.) the receipts pointing out that those two fly together sometimes in the tours.

Idk if this is worth posting at all, but I just really needed to let it because I feel like I might be getting biased but also not (it was very fishy for me for sure lol). Thank you!

Hi, darling. No, it’s totally worth posting! I agree with you that it says something without saying anything. Are you able to tell me what year you were asking about? Or what country? I won’t post anything you don’t want public.

I’m really glad to hear that people take their NDAs seriously and even if it was from years ago they would still be professional about it.

Thank you so much for sharing this. If you think of anything else you can add, LMK. Or send me a DM. I’ll keep it private. 🩷

#Larry receipts

29 notes · View notes

ro-is-struggling · 30 days ago

Text

Second Chances || Johnny Storm x Reader

Summary: You run into Johnny in a bar and after he saves you from having to spend the night with what you were convinced was the most irritating man on earth, you decide to give him a second chance to get to know him better. Maybe he wasn't as bad as you thought…

Or the story of how you accidentally agreed to be friends with Johnny as if you were two little kids that hit it off in the playground.

THIS IS PART 2 OF MY MINI-SERIES FIREPROOF! Masterlist + info (series summary & warnings) HERE

Warnings: fem!reader, reader having a terrible time in a bar, Johnny being a flirt, vague mentions of Johnny's tragic family past, fluff, bonding, I think that's it?

English is not my first language

Word count: 7600

Notes: sorry this took so long, it wasn’t supposed to exist lol Part 3 was originally supposed to be part 2 but I thought it was going to skip too far ahead in time (you'll see what I mean) so I decided to write this short(?) thing about how Johnny and reader go from strangers to somewhat friends. Parts 3 and 4 are almost ready so I don't think it will take me that long to post them.

Stay tuned for more and I hope you guys like it!

Do you want to get notified when I post? JOIN MY TAG LIST HERE!

You hated bars.

Well, that was a harsh way of putting it. You didn't hate bars all the time. But at this moment you definitely did.

You enjoyed going out drinking and dancing with your friends from time to time. While it wasn't your favorite activity —and you certainly could do the same in a quieter, more intimate setting— you recognized the de-stressing value of a good night out, especially after a week of midterms. You didn't always enjoy the people in the bars, especially the men, but it was nice to spend a night with friends laughing and dancing while the alcohol slowly washed away your worries.

However, tonight was not a casual gathering of friends looking to unwind from the pressures of college. No. Tonight, the bar represented everything you hated about those places since the focus was not on having a good time, but on getting Ellie a guy to help her stop crying about Johnny. Just as you thought it would happen, he got bored with her after a couple of encounters and, because of your threats, it didn't take long for him to have the “it's not you, it's me” talk with her. Ellie knew she shouldn't have taken their hookup seriously in the first place, but she had done it anyway, so the breakup —if it could be called that— had left her devastated. Luckily it wasn't one of those breakups that left her crying for weeks, but she kept talking about Johnny. She was becoming quite the stalker, following him around campus, taking note of the girls he talked to or went out with to compare herself to them. It was a little scary if you were honest. It wasn't like her at all, so one of your friends decided it was time to erase Johnny from her mind once and for all.

So now you were stuck at the bar near campus, pretending to be having a good time while you and your friends struggled to find Ellie a nice guy to spend the night with. While you knew this would be a difficult task from the start, you had no idea how difficult it actually would be. You had lost count of the number of mediocre guys who had approached your table in hopes of winning one of you over. They used cheap tricks and corny lines that made you roll your eyes every time they spoke. Your friends laughed at them with you at first, but as the hours went by, the alcohol and desperation slowly made them stop seeing it as ridiculous.

Soon it was just you and Ellie at the table. The rest of your friends had either already left with some guy or were dancing with one on the dance floor. You hadn't had too much to drink —you figured at least one had to stay relatively sober to keep the rest from doing something they would later regret—, and now you were cursing yourself for it. You weren't nearly drunk enough to be able to keep putting up with the cheap lines the guys were throwing around, honestly hoping that a couple of memorized and overused words would be enough to get in your pants. You hated every second you had to stay there and were ready to tell Ellie that they should call it a night. But before you could say anything, Mark sat down at your table to chat for a while.

He was like a breath of fresh air. He seemed genuine and funny, needing nothing more than his natural charisma to get your friend's attention in an instant. He didn't resort to using corny lines or disgusting remarks. He was just himself and that was enough to get Ellie on the dance floor for the first time that night. You were genuinely happy for your friend. If things went well, maybe she had finally found the perfect candidate to push Johnny out of her mind for good. However, Mark was not alone. He had a friend who had sat across from you and hadn't stopped looking at you since. And to your misfortune he didn't seem half as charismatic and genuine as Mark. So while all your friends were having fun you were stuck with a guy who thought that telling you about his gym routine was the right way to get into your —or any other woman's— pants.

You put up with this guy's poor attempts at flirting for as long as you could. You knew that as Ellie's friend your role there was to get the annoying friend out of the way so she could have some alone time with Mark. However, when he started talking about his supposed success at being his own boss —and how people were poor because they didn't try as hard as he did— you knew you had put up with too much. You jumped up from the table, making an excuse about going to the bar for drinks so you could escape the situation. You no longer cared about Ellie or her relationship problems. You needed to get out of there as soon as possible and never cross paths with that guy again in your life.

In your rush to escape, you didn't notice a figure approaching your table until a familiar voice echoed behind you.

“Y/n? There you are! I've been looking for you all night!” Johnny exclaimed with a smile.

Your expression changed from annoyed to confused in an instant. What was he doing there? And why was he talking to you as if you were best friends —as if your current misfortune wasn't his fault.

“Johnny?” was all you could manage to say, the confusion evident in your voice.

“Yes, silly! Were we supposed to meet, or have you forgotten already? Don't tell me you're already drunk!” He gave you a subtle wink and, once you got over the initial shock, you understood what he was trying to do.

Why Johnny Storm of all people in that bar was looking to help you escape your uncomfortable situation was something you didn't understand. But you didn't need to in order to take his help anyway. You were a proud woman, but not proud enough to deny the salvation he was offering you. Who cared about what he had done to your friend? At that moment you wanted to run from there and he was giving you the perfect excuse for that.

“You're right! I'm so sorry!” You played along with the charade, putting on a fake smile and pretending to be happy when you spoke. “I got distracted talking to... my friend here, but you're welcome to join us.” You cringed internally when you couldn't mention his name and you could swear that Johnny's lips quirked into a smile.

“What do you say I go get us some drinks first?”

“That's exactly what I was about to do! I'll join you.”

You didn't even turn to exchange words with Mark's friend before disappearing through the crowd towards the bar. Johnny took you by the waist to guide you through the crowd and you left him just because fighting with him at that moment was not in your best interest. You could still feel the other guy's eyes on your back, following your every step carefully. If you wanted to get away from him for the rest of the night, you had to make sure you made it clear to him that you were unavailable. And Johnny was giving you exactly that opportunity, so you couldn't fight him because the charade would be exposed.

However, when you reached the bar and were able to hide in the crowd of people ordering drinks, you took the opportunity to show Johnny how you really felt about him.

“Thanks for that... but you can keep your hands to yourself.” You said in a rather dry tone, pushing away the arm around your waist.

“Hey, I just saved your life back there! How about you show a little gratitude.” He snorted, but there was the ghost of a smile on his lips.

“I'm not going to show you any gratitude after what you did, you're the reason I have to be here today!”

“What, did I somehow force you to come out of your cave and have some fun?”

“No, you idiot! I'm here because you broke up with Ellie!” You raised an accusatory finger and Johnny raised his hands in the air in surrender.

“And that's why you're mad at me? I thought that's what you wanted me to do! I was honest with her like you asked me to be, you can't blame me for that.”

You looked at him with narrowed eyes, annoyed that he was right. You couldn't be mad at him for doing the one thing you had asked him to do. You could hate him for the way he was in general or curse the moment he fixed his eyes on your friend, but at least he'd had the decency to talk to her and end the relationship before things got more serious. That was the least he could do, but at least he had done it. But still, Ellie was in bad shape because of him which meant he was your number one enemy.

“Still, you made her sad and because of you she dragged me here so I'm not going to talk to you anymore!”

You turned away, leaning back against the bar to wait for the bar tender to let you order. You hoped your attitude would be enough to get rid of Johnny, after all, you didn't really understand why he had decided to help you. However, his smile appeared once again in your field of vision. He settled on the bar next to you, one arm on the table supporting his weight as he looked at you with an amused expression that made your eyes roll.

“I wouldn't be so quick to kick me out just yet.” He leaned toward you to make sure you heard him over the sound of the music and the people around you. “'Cause your friend over there is coming over here. But I'm sure you were having a great time with him and that thing I saw on your face when I walked by your table wasn't annoyance at all, was it?”

“He's what?” your head turned with incredible speed, scanning the crowd for the figure of who you were sure was a government experiment designed to test your limits. Johnny let out a laugh, but your concern didn't let you even care about that.

“Don't look back!” He warned you and your eyes instinctively met his again. “I can get you out of here without him noticing, but you'll have to trust me.”

Your eyes darted to the dance floor, searching for Ellie in the crowd of people. Before deciding anything you wanted to make sure your friend was okay. You found her quickly, still dancing with Mark as she laughed. You assumed that things between them were going well and decided to believe that he was the one she would end the night with so you would feel less bad about running away. Looking back at Johnny, you let out an exhausted sigh. You didn't really like the idea of listening to him, but you also didn't like the thought of having to endure the boring stories that awaited you if you didn't get out of there quickly. You were caught between a rock and a hard place, although ultimately you knew which was the better option. Still, that didn't stop you from being suspicious of Johnny and his intentions.

“And why would I do that?”

“Because you don't have much of a choice.” Johnny said as if it was obvious and you knew he was right. “Or much time. He's getting close.” He added, his eyes getting lost in the crowd behind you for a second before returning to your face.

“But why would you help me?” you insisted, ignoring his last comment.

“Because I felt sorry for you, you looked miserable out there with him.” You looked at him with narrowed eyes, distrust evident in your expression. “It's not a pick up trick if that's what you think.”

“Then why are you helping me?”

“You know what, if you don't trust me that's fine. I guess I'll leave you alone. Enjoy your night.”

Johnny patted you on the back and prepared to walk away, but he didn't make it more than a step before your hand clung to his arm. “Wait!” you hurried to say. “Don't go! I... I need your help.”

Johnny smiled at you and you feared for a moment you had made the wrong decision.

“Follow me!” was all he said before he grabbed your hand and dragged you into the crowd of people on the dance floor.

You let him guide you through the bar, pushing your way through the crowd of sweaty bodies until you found yourself on the other side of the dance floor. When you realized that Johnny was leading you towards the restroom area alarm bells started ringing in your mind. Surely he hadn't lied to you to get into your pants, had he?

“Where are you taking me?” you asked, concern evident in your voice.

Johnny let out a laugh, knowing exactly where your mind was going. “Relax! We're almost there.”

As you passed the restroom area you breathed a sigh of relief. However, it didn't last long because he soon led you to an area of the bar you didn't recognize. And by the absence of people there you suspected that you weren't supposed to be there. You went down a staircase and ended up in a hallway so far away that the music started to become less audible.

“Are you going to murder me?” You joked and Johnny laughed.

“No, I'm going to set you free.”

With his free hand he pointed ahead and then you noticed the illuminated sign marking the back exit of the establishment. Pushing open the metal doors, you found yourself in an not-so-friendly alleyway. If you were alone you probably would have run inside as quickly as you had come out. It really looked like the place where a character from the first few minutes of a crime show would meet their end. It didn't have much lighting and it smelled terrible. And you were pretty sure that if you paid attention you could see the rats that inhabited the dumpsters. You didn't want to be there a second longer than necessary.

“Oh so you're really going to murder me.”

“Come on, my car is not far from here.”

Under normal circumstances you wouldn't have gone anywhere with Johnny, especially after having to put up with Ellie talking about him all week. But that place was creepy and you didn't feel comfortable walking alone to your apartment in the short dress you were wearing. So you held on to Johnny's arm and didn't put up a fight when he opened the passenger door of his car for you. You assumed he was going to take you home, but when he missed a turn and kept driving you looked away from the window to stare at him in confusion.

“You missed it, you had to turn there to get to my street.”

“I know. We're not going to your house yet.” Johnny didn't take his eyes off the road as he spoke, giving you even less of a clue as to what he was up to.

“Are you kidnapping me?”

“What is it with you and those comments, huh? I'm not a serial killer.”

“You're the one acting weird!” you defended yourself. “In my defense, all men are potential serial killers. And Ted Bundy was cute and charming too, so a girl can never let her guard down.”

Johnny took his eyes off the road to look at you for a second, a smile plastered on his lips. “You think I'm charming?”

You felt the heat of embarrassment in your cheeks, but you did your best to hide it. “Really, that's what you take away from that?”

Johnny shrugged. “A compliment's a compliment, even if it's a fucked up one like that.”

You rolled your eyes, deciding not to press the issue any further so as not to expose yourself even more. “Anyway... where are you taking me?”

“The night's still young and I'm hungry so I thought we could stop by and get something to eat before I take you home.”

“Oh.” You murmured, somewhat surprised that Johnny wanted to spend more time with you than was strictly necessary. “I appreciate you asking for my opinion. That was very nice of you.” You added in a sarcastic tone.

“Oh my god, there's no way to please you, is there?” He rolled his eyes, but you knew from the tone of his voice that he wasn't really upset. More like amused you'd say. “I save you back there, take you out for a bite to eat so you don't end the night so badly, and this is how you treat me, huh?”

This time it was your turn to roll your eyes at his feigned pain. But you couldn't deny that he was partly right. You were being a little mean to him, but you couldn't help it. That was your natural reaction when interacting with people you didn't trust, especially people like Johnny. Sarcasm was your defense mechanism and, while you recognized that it made people not like you very much, you weren't willing to change it.

“I'm just saying I'd like to know beforehand.” you doubled down.

Johnny smiled. He liked your attitude. He wasn't used to girls being themselves around him. Usually they acted a certain way to get his attention, always saying yes to everything, always playing a kind of cat and mouse game. He knew how to play that game very well, almost too well to the point that it was getting boring. He knew what the girls were going to say before he even approached them, which was fine when he was looking for some late night fun, but terrible when he wanted to have a conversation with someone.

In that sense, you were a breeze of fresh air with your strong character and sarcastic remarks. You weren't looking to impress him and you didn't fall for his charisma. You were simply being you and that intrigued him. Since meeting you the morning he woke up in your apartment, Johnny found himself thinking of you from time to time. He recognized you when he saw you in the hallways and wondered if you would ever get another chance to interact. That's why when he saw how uncomfortable you looked at the bar he didn't hesitate to come to your rescue. And that was also why he had made the unilateral decision to invite you to dinner. Johnny wanted to get to know you better, to understand why you awakened so much interest in him.

He stopped at a drive through to order some food and then drove a while longer until he pulled into the parking lot of a supermarket that was closed. You remained silent the whole time —except for telling him your order—, stealing the occasional chip from the bag as you looked out the window, wondering where he was taking you. When Johnny finally stopped the car, he got out and hurried to open the door for you. In one hand he took the bag with the orders in it and wrapped his other hand around yours to help you stand upright in the heels you were wearing.

“Wow, you shouldn't have.” You said, your tone equally sarcastic as you inspected the place.

It wasn't the prettiest spot in town, that was for sure. The fences that enclosed the place were rusted and covered with overgrown vines. There was some graffiti on the walls and a couple of oil stains on the pavement. The place had a bit of a creepy vibe. It was unusual to see a place like that so empty and there was something about it that made the hair on the back of your neck stand up. However, when you looked up you discovered that it had a nice clear view of the sky. The stars were shining beautifully in the dark night sky and that was almost enough to put aside the scary vibes of the place.

“You see, you talk a lot about not wanting to murder me but you bring me to the most isolated place in the whole city.” You joked. “I feel like you're giving me mixed signals. What are we doing here?”

“I come here sometimes when I want to think.” Johnny shrugged as he pulled the food out of the bags, using the hood of the car as a table. “It's pretty quiet in here, don't you think?”

“You think? Who knew.” You regretted that comment the moment it left your lips. You didn't mean to be so aggressive with him, it was just that sometimes you found it hard to turn off the sarcasm once you turned it on. It was the reason you didn't have many friends. You had to work on that, but it was easier said than done.

Luckily Johnny took no offense at your comment. He simply sat on the hood of the car and popped a couple of fries into his mouth, his eyes never losing that amused sparkle. “Unbelievably, yes. I know what you're thinking 'cute, smart AND sensitive? That must be a lie!' But I assure you it's not, I'm the whole package, baby.” He winked at you and you let out a laugh.

“Yes, that's exactly what I was thinking, how did you know?”

“It's one of my many talents.”

Johnny invited you to sit in the car with him, which you awkwardly did. You ditch your heels immediately, tossing them with mild hatred a couple of feet away from you. You smile as you feel the freedom to move your feet with ease, slowly regaining the feeling in your toes. The tight dress wasn't the most comfortable in the world for the position you were in, but you made it work.

“Give me your jacket.” You said as you popped a potato chip into your mouth.

“Are you cold yet? Should I stand up and do the whole show of draping my jacket over your shoulders like a gentleman?”

“No, silly. This dress is incredibly short and I tend to cross my legs a lot so I don't want to accidentally flash you.” A cheeky grin came across Johnny's face and you knew then what kind of comment he was going to blurt out, so you hurried to shut him up. “Whatever is going through your head, keep it to yourself or I swear to god I'll walk from here to my house.” You added, your accusatory finger pointed straight at his face. He raised his hands in the air in defeat, though the smile did not leave his lips. He still gave you his jacket and you secured it in your lap before doing anything else.

You ate in silence for a while, the soft sounds of the city at night and the sipping of the drinks were the only things you could hear. Normally in that kind of situation you looked calm on the outside but your mind was a worried mess. When you were stuck with a person you didn't know you were always worried that things wouldn't feel awkward. You wanted to be nice, but you could never find the words or the time to say something that would start the conversation. And suddenly the air would start to feel tense and you were never able to tell if it was just you or if the other person was feeling it too. Then it became harder and harder to say something—what if you sounded weird? What if the other person didn't want to talk to you and the very fact that you opened your mouth bothered them? What if it was the complete opposite and by taking too long you had ruined your chances of striking up a conversation? What were people supposed to say in casual conversation? And by the time you realized it, the other person was gone, probably thinking you were weird or rude.

However, sitting quietly next to Johnny didn't bring any of that up. You were just there, eating while enjoying the soft cool evening breeze, not even thinking about what to say or do to fill the silence that had formed. And when you realized that, it confused you. You didn't expect to feel so comfortable with Johnny Storm of all people. You wondered if it was because of the alcohol still coursing through your veins —though you hadn't really had much to drink—, or if maybe it could be because you had no desire to impress Johnny. After all, he wasn't just any stranger. He was someone you never in a million years could have imagined sharing a moment like this with. You two were so different on the surface that you hadn't even imagined ever having a conversation with him, much less a friendly one. You didn't see the point in getting his attention or even generating a friendly relationship because guys like him generally didn't look twice at girls like you –for any reason, romantic or platonic. And maybe that was what was allowing you to be so free, the lack of expectations.

“How did you know about that back exit at the bar?” your voice broke the silence and for once you felt comfortable doing so.

“Well, let's just say I know some people on the staff.” Johnny said with a mouth full of food.

“Well of course you do! I should have seen that one coming.” You shook your head, disappointed in yourself for not having considered the implications behind Johnny's words sooner. Now that you thought about it, it sounded stupid to have asked. Of course he knew probably more than one of the girls who worked there very intimately.

“Hey! I'm more than just a player, you know?” He pretended to be offended, holding a hand to his chest to emphasize the pain your accusations caused him.

“You don't act like that.”

“Well, maybe I only do it for the right people.” He looked very proud of that line, but you had to purse your lips to keep from smirking.

Arching an eyebrow at him, you said, “Does that line usually work on women?”

Johnny let out a chuckle, surprised at how easily you seemed to read him. “Surprisingly, yes.”

“That's okay, Storm. I'll give you the benefit of the doubt.” You sighed suddenly, wiping the salt off your hands with a napkin before reaching for your drink. “Show me you're more than a flirt.”

“Uh, a challenge. I like it! Now you're starting to speak my language. What do I have to do?”

“Hold a serious, normal conversation for more than 10 minutes without resorting to cheap lines or meaningless flirting. And maybe I'll start to consider that you're a multifaceted person.”

“But my flirtatious attitude is my best trait!”

“So you agree with me then, all you think about is sex.” You took a moment to sip your nearly empty drink, using the annoying sucking sound to emphasize your point. “Tell me, Johnny, why is it so hard for you to take things seriously?”

“Who are you, my therapist?” He let out a chuckle, but you could swear it was more out of nerves than amusement. You felt a little proud of that. Not many people could make Johnny Storm nervous.

“I'm just one person trying to generate a connection with another person. Usually for that to happen people talk, mostly from a place of honesty and earnestness.” Your sarcastic tone came through again, only a little softer this time. You were beginning to feel really intrigued by what Johnny might answer. Being someone who saw the world completely differently, you couldn't help but wonder how his mind worked. “ What do you do when you talk to the girls you go out with?”

“Well, for starters I don't usually get into arguments about the meaning of life or anything like that.”

“You don't have to get all philosophical to engage in a mildly meaningful conversation with someone.” You rolled your eyes. “What do you talk to them about?”

“There's usually not a lot of talking, if you know what I mean.”

“So you really just repeat a couple of corny lines and that's it?”

Johnny shrugs. “There's a little more to it, but yeah. I'm not looking for a relationship, I just want to have a good time.”

“Still, that sounds boring.”

“Maybe, but it works.”

“So you never talk about your life or your interests with the girls you date?”

Your disbelief was evident. You knew Johnny's attitude wasn't strange. Quite the contrary, most men had that approach to dating and sexual relationships. It was the reason why finding a partner was so complicated for you. However, you found it strange that he didn't see anything wrong with being so emotionally distant from the people he slept with. That was definitely a 'you' problem, because other women were clearly delighted to pass through his sheets without having the slightest connection outside of the physical aspect of it. But for you it was impossible to separate the two. How could you be sexually attracted to someone you didn't know? It sounded like a nightmare.

“I suppose I do, but not to any great extent unless I can use it to my advantage, like my interest in cars.” Johnny shrugged. “I'm sorry, but I don't understand why a girl I don't know would have to hear about the last time I visited my sister or my life story before we had sex.”

“I don't know, maybe so they can get to know you a little better?”

“If I do that they'll think I'm looking for something more serious and they'll never stop chasing me.”

“They already think that, Johnny.” You rolled your eyes. “You're not exactly great at letting people know your true intentions all the time.” Your mind drifted back to your friend and how despite it having been one of the quickest and most honest breakups in Johnny's history as far as you knew —thanks to your intervention— she had still caught feelings for him. And while that wasn't entirely his fault, it was undeniable that he hadn't been entirely upfront with his intentions —at least not explicitly.

“Why am I being judged? You're the weird one! Casual sex is a thing and lots of people enjoy it!” Johnny countered finally, raising an accusatory finger in your direction. “In fact, I think you'd have more fun in life if you'd stop being so uptight. I know at least you would have had a better time tonight.”

“Oh yeah, and stay with Mr. Self-centered back there? No thanks.”

“Oh come on, it couldn't have been that bad!”

“I thought that at first too, but then he started telling me about his gym routine in extreme detail like it mattered to anyone but him and I knew he was an idiot.”

Johnny grimaced in disgust. “His mind was in the right place, but he completely blew it with the execution. He was supposed to make you touch his abs or his biceps so you could feel his muscles.” You shook your head, unable to believe he was taking the time to correct your horror date's flirting techniques. But still, you couldn't help but let out a chuckle as you imagined the sequence. Did Johnny really think that could work on you?

“That's even worse!”

“No it isn't! Look, touch my arm and tell me how it feels.” Johnny winked at you, flexing one of his arms to highlight his muscles. You rolled your eyes and threw a crumpled paper napkin in the center of his face to make him stop.

“Are you flirting with me, Johnny? Because that would prove me right, you know? It hasn't even been five minutes and you're already resorting to overused tactics to try to get me flustered.”

“I'm not! I'm simply showing you what he should have done.”

“Instead of that why don't you tell me something about yourself.”

“Something like what?”

“I don't know, something that lets me get to know you a little better. Something you wouldn't tell one of your conquests.”

Johnny didn't take more than a couple of seconds to think about what to answer, blurting out the first thing that came to his mind. “Well, I was raised by my aunt. My mother died when I was a kid in a car accident...my father is out of the picture too, so my aunt had to take care of me and my sister. Poor Aunt Mary couldn't control me, so I guess that's when my rebellious attitude started to develop.”

Even though Johnny was smiling, you could notice a change in his attitude. The playful sparkle disappeared from his eyes, replaced by a more sober expression. He tried to act casual to hide how uncomfortable it made him feel to be so vulnerable, but he wasn't doing a very good job at it. It was a rare thing to witness. He was a very confident guy, so much so that it was annoying at times, but that attitude seemed to have evaporated. His eyes were focused on an oil stain on the floor, completely lost in thought. He was silent, but he didn't seem to be waiting for a response from you. Rather, he seemed to be having a conversation with himself in the depths of his mind.

For the first time since you met him, you saw Johnny for what he was: a normal guy with a life story as complicated as everyone else's. Not that you didn't know it before, but it was hard to remember when he went to so much trouble to hide it with the way he acted all the time. You didn't have much of a relationship with him, so you usually just saw him as a jerk who enjoyed playing with the hearts of the women he seduced. You didn't necessarily hate him, but you didn't love him either. And while all that might still be true, you were now able to see beyond the image he had created of himself. With those few words he had been able to show you a glimpse of his true self. And you liked that.

The least you could do after that was to return the favor.

“The reason I'm this... structured and focused on my studies is because I want to prove to my family that I can be somebody... that I can do something with my life.” You broke the silence with your confession, drawing Johnny's attention back to you. As he looked at you, his eyes had a softness in them that you had never noticed there before. It helped you not to feel intimidated by opening up about something so personal in front of him. “They never believed much in me so I never believed much in myself. Until I got my acceptance letter, so I made it my mission to graduate with honors.” You let out an uncomfortable chuckle, not quite knowing how to proceed after such a revelation.

Johnny was surprised by your words. He found it hard to believe that you had such a negative image of yourself, especially in relation to academics. He didn't know you very well, and yet he could safely say that you were the smartest and most prepared person on campus. It was a little sad that you weren't able to see that. But it was even worse that you went out of your way to impress people who didn't deserve it.

That was the moment he decided he should stay close to you. You needed him in your life even if you didn't realize it. You needed someone like him to help you remember that it was your life and you should live it according to your desires, not the expectations of others. He could help you loosen up a little and release the fun part of you that he knew you were hiding inside.

“Fuck that! You don't have to prove anything to anyone.” Johnny said and you were surprised by the honesty in his voice. “You should live your life for you and not to meet someone else's expectations. We only get one shot at this, and it's too short, so we should make sure we live up to our own desires.”

“Thank you, Johnny. That was... very profound and smart of you.” You smiled at him, but this time it wasn't sarcasm. You were genuinely impressed with his words. It was a very Johnny thing to say, but it painted him in a different light. Knowing what you knew about him now put some depth to his everyday actions. He wasn't annoyingly reckless just for the fun of it, there was more weight behind it, a thoughtfulness and awareness you didn't consider he had.

“I told you I'm more than just a pretty face.” Johnny sounded proud of himself, gloating at being able to tell you 'I told you so' after you didn't want to believe him. You couldn't help but giggle.

“You're right, you are. But I'm right too, because I never would have figured it out if you didn't open up to me and we had a normal adult conversation.” You pointed out and Johnny rolled his eyes at your smartass attitude. “See, human connection! Now that I know you a little better I see you as more than the annoying playboy who broke my friend's heart... And I hope you can see me in a different light too. Isn't that nice?”

“No 'cause now I'm sad because you made me have deep thoughts.”

“It's okay to feel sad sometimes, especially with the right person.”

“Why would I want to be sad when I can not be sad if I don't think about it?”

“Oh my God!” you exclaimed, unable to believe your ears. How was it possible for Johnny to go from saying one of the wisest things you'd ever heard to...that in such a short time? He really was a multifaceted guy. “Do I have to explain emotions to you as if you were a five year old? They are normal, they are part of the human experience and a functioning adult like you shouldn't bottle them up inside. It's healthy to let them out from time to time, even the ugly ones, especially if you find the right person to do it with.”

“So what you're saying is... you're the right person.”

“What? No! I mean, I don't know... if you want me to.” His words took you by surprise to such an extent that you didn't know how to react.

Your first reaction was to refuse, making a weird expression, a mixture of disgust and surprise. You weren't looking to have a friendship with Johnny, he was rather forcing it by continuing to show up in your life. But then you felt bad about how quick you were to dismiss him. Maybe he wasn't as bad as you thought he was. Maybe you weren't so different. Maybe he really needed someone to talk to and this whole thing was his weird way of asking for it without having to say it. Or maybe he was just trying to fuck with your mind. One could never be sure of anything with Johnny.

“Why the sudden fluster? Don't you want to be my friend? After all that! I showed you my soul, opened up to you and all for you to reject me? I can't believe it! And you said you were better than me, ha!”

You knew he was joking, his exaggerated tone and the way he touched his chest in feigned pain gave it away, but it still made you feel bad for what you said. “I didn't mean that! You caught me off guard... I mean, do you even want to be my friend?”

Johnny shrugged. “Why not? You seem nice and I must admit I enjoyed our little chat.”

You smiled at his words, although you didn't quite understand why. “Okay, I guess we can be friends... but no bullshit!” You added that last once again raising your accusatory finger.

Johnny let out a chuckle, throwing his hands up in the air. “No bullshit, I promise.”

A small silence formed then. It wasn't necessarily uncomfortable, but it wasn't pleasant either. You could both read in each other's faces how surprised and bizarre you found the situation you were in, but neither seemed to want to back down. As strange as it seemed, it was also interesting. Both of you were intrigued by what this new friendship might bring to your lives.

It was a challenge for the two of you. If you were honest with yourself, you didn't have much faith that things would work out. You figured he would get bored of you in a couple of days —weeks if you were being optimistic— and never speak to you again. You wouldn't blame him for that, you didn't feel like you were interesting and you didn't know how much fun you could have with someone who was so different from you.

But Johnny was a completely different story. He wasn't someone who ran away from a challenge, and as sweet as your talk was just then, becoming your friend was exactly that: a challenge he would have to overcome. It was exciting and intriguing, exactly what he needed to escape the monotony he'd been stuck in lately. You seemed like a nice person despite your differences, which he didn't see as a negative. He felt he could learn a few things from you, as well as teach you a few others.

“Do we shake on it?” Johnny broke the silence. “Or maybe we make a blood pact like in the movies.”

“No dumbass! We're not kids.” You laugh, shaking your head. “Now take me home, it's getting late and tomorrow I have to get up early to study.”

“Fine, but just so you know, there will be a lot less studying if you're my friend. You need to enjoy life a little more.”

You rolled your eyes. “Good, well then there will be a lot less quick hookups and more sharing of our feelings if you're my friend.” You went along with the joke. You expected him to complain, but Johnny didn't seem to mind.

“All right. Then please allow me...” He jumped up from the hood and walked a couple of steps to reach the heels you had thrown away when you arrived. “I can't let you touch the pavement with your bare feet. Let me help you.”

Before you could object Johnny knelt down in front of you like a man in love about to propose to his partner. Only instead of a ring he offered you your heels. He took your right leg gently and rested your foot on his thigh as he tried to figure out which shoe to place on which foot. Your skin tingled under his touch, your face hot from the intensity of Johnny's gaze as he carefully fitted your shoe. You knew he was playing with you, you could read it in his face, and yet you could do nothing but stand there, frozen in place as you let him take care of securing the heels back on your feet. Even though he was doing it to tease you, there was something incredibly intimate about his action that left you feeling stupid. His fingers lingered on your skin for a few seconds longer than necessary, arousing warmth in its path. His gaze traveled from your legs to your eyes and back to your heels, admiring your figure in a way you weren't sure another man had ever done before. Everything seemed to move in slow motion —the ticking of the clock, his fingers, your breathing, the night breeze hitting your body. Everything but your heart, which was pounding in your chest with an increasingly faster and stronger rhythm.

You managed to come out of your trance when he finally pulled his hands away from your body. So you took your foot off his thigh and jumped up, as if suddenly the metal of the car burned you. You felt embarrassed that you had fallen for his trick and even more embarrassed that he knew you had bought into his game. The damn bastard had done it on purpose, just to show you that he could, that you were no different from the others even though you presented yourself that way, and that with the right approach you could fall under his spell like all the others.

“What did I just tell you about all this bullshit?” You threw his jacket violently at him before making your way to the side of the car. Johnny caught it in mid-air, letting out a laugh that you found in equal measure charming and annoying.

“What? I was just being nice!” He played it off, throwing his hands up in the air in innocence. You decided to answer him by slamming the car door after settling into the passenger seat, crossing your arms over your chest. But all you did was make him laugh even harder.

“You look adorable when you get mad... and when you get flustered too.” He teased you as he put the key in to start the car.

“Drive or I'll end up being the one who kills someone tonight.”

#johnny storm x reader #human torch x reader #johnny storm x fem reader #johnny storm #fantastic four #human torch #johnny storm fluff #johnny storm angst #fireproof series

22 notes · View notes