#i tried to pick ones people are less likely to have heard of so like... not brandon sanderson for example
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rosetintedkaleidoscope · 11 months ago
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best books i read in 2023:
- comfort me with apples by catherynne valente. fantasy/horror. this is a creepy, dystopian, fairy tale kind of story. some biblical references. the creepiness builds up slowly through strange little details.
- quest for a maid by frances mary hendry. children's historical fiction / fantasy. 13th century scotland & norway. read as a child, completely forgot, then found in a used bookstore this year. it absolutely lives up to my memories: rich with details, from the foods to the clothes to the activities to all the little things you don't really notice that create a sense of another time & place. the loving attention to detail is a big part of why i like this book so much. also excellent characterization.
- nisa: the life and words of a !kung woman by marjorie shostak. nonfiction. okay, if you're following me you've probably heard of this because of @etirabys, whose posts inspired me to read it, but i had to include it anyway. based on interviews with a hunter-gatherer woman, it tells about her life and worldview. moving and immensely fascinating
- making babies: the science of pregnancy by david bainbridge. nonfiction. also immensely fascinating. my ideal kind of science book: readable yet detailed and in-depth, and full of strange facts. strong contender for the coolest nonfiction book i've ever read
- the ladies of grace adieu and other stories by susanna clarke. fantasy. wonderful eerie fairy stories
- we have always lived in the castle by shirley jackson. classic, horror. sinister and evocative. one thing i really like is that the characters are likeable and often happy despite the weirdness and the horror. it's optimistic and tragic at the same time, and gives you things to think about even after you're done reading
- murderbot series by martha wells. science fiction. it has an interesting plot and setting and all that, but the main appeal is the character and charm of the protagonist, a robot who hacks itself to gain freedom. all it wants to do with that freedom is watch tv, but dangerous stuff keeps getting in the way
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wileys-russo · 2 months ago
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Alexia - family backyard BBQ - “I’m going to marry you”
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ring first II a.putellas
"-how you say it?" alexia frowned, sat on the counter watching you cook as you turned around with a smile. "marry me chicken." you repeated for the third time, the catalan woman mumbling it under her breath but not looking any less confused.
"por qué? you marry the chicken?" the midfielder questioned with an adorable look on her face making you laugh. "when you eat it, you will understand." you promised her with a grin, swatting away her foot with a playful glare as it poked at your ass.
"are you going to do anything to help? or just sit there and ask me questions?" you raised an eyebrow, moving the chicken to the side so you could focus on the sauce.
"princesa you told me you did not want help to cook!" your girlfriend scoffed causing you to roll your eyes fondly.
"you could go and change the sheets on the bed over, so they are done when we get back tonight." you suggested, turning back around and feeling her hazel eyes roaming over you from behind.
"lo siento, no entiendo inglés." alexia sighed with a shake of her head as you paused, narrowing your eyes at her over your shoulder. "lo siento, no más sexo." you shrugged, grinning to yourself at the way the blonde scrambled to jump down from the counter.
"alexia!" you laughed as her arms looped around your waist, peppering kisses all over your face and mumbling apologies. "go and make the bed!" you ordered, pushing into her and nudging her away, her hand grabbing your chin and pecking your lips twice as you hummed.
"te amo." alexia stated as again you only hummed, turning back to the stove as the catalan frowned and crossed her arms over her chest. "te amo!" she repeated louder this time assuming you hadn't heard.
"sorry, no spanish." you glanced at her with an apologetic pout, squealing at the way her hand connected with your ass with a huff. "i love you. go be useful!" you pushed at her shoulders, the footballer grumbling her annoyances but going to do as you'd asked.
"ah! no." you smacked your girlfriends hand as you were covering the chicken with foil, everything else packed and ready to go as the two of you were about to head off to her mami's house for a family bbq.
"que? mi amor, one taste." alexia tried again, knuckles rapped with the handle of the ladel you were using to get the last of the sauce into the container as she gasped.
"at dinner? you can have as much as you want." you promised, kissing away her protests as the taller girl melted, as always she was wrapped around your little finger.
"is alba meeting us there or did you say you would pick her up?" you questioned, alexia's head a little woozy as you pulled away, the blonde nodding wordlessly as you grinned, patting her cheek lightly with a wink.
"close your mouth putellas, you'll catch flies."
there was a collectively loud cheer as the pair of you walked out into the backyard, already having been greeted by a handful of alexia's tia's and her mami eli who were in the kitchen getting everything ready.
despite the fact you'd been broken apart to continue with the greetings you were acutely aware of your girlfriends eyes on you as you made your way around the yard, hugged and kissed by her relatives who took you in as one of their own, your own family still based in england but they adored alexia just as much as hers cared for you.
and sure enough just like a magnet the moment she was free again she was drawn to your side, an arm settling comfortably over your shoulder as you leaned into her, the pair of you taking a seat and joining in with conversation.
it was about an hour later that the food was ready and your eyes almost bugged out of your head at the sheer amount of it, easily enough for a small army despite the fact there couldn't have been more than fifteen or so people present.
"i told you to bring the eh...how you say? tupperware?" alexia mumbled in your ear, accented english making you laugh and smack her chest with a grin. "sí, but when does your mami not already send us home with a doggy bag?" you quipped, watching her eyebrows furrow together as alba handed the pair of you a plate each.
"dog? que? why would mami give us a dog?" your girlfriend questioned as you bit your lip to stop from teasing her, knowing that as much as her english was better than your spanish, there were still some idioms that flew over her head.
you settled for an amused smile, merely pecking her lips and chuckling as her younger sister made a gagging noise in front of you, alexia's hand shooting out to smack the back of her head as they started to bicker.
that all fell silent as eli popped up out of nowhere, a stern glare and they were already focused on food again, alexia dishing up for the pair of you as you swooned at the small gesture, kissing her cheek in thanks as you both took a seat at the table.
"marry me chicken." alexia pointed to the dish on her plate as you nodded, a slight blush on your cheeks as praise was tossed at you all across the table from her family who'd already started to eat, a laugh leaving your lips as you promised eli you'd show her how you made it.
"good?" you asked as alexia took a bite, pausing for a moment to chew and swallow as you traced circles against her thigh under the table, awaiting her response.
"i am going to marry you." was all the midfielder said, grabbing your face in her hands and pressing a kiss to your lips causing cheers and whistles to errupt as your neck flushed bright red, grinning as your girlfriend began to shovel food into her mouth.
"ring first my love." you teased quietly in her ear, squeezing her knee and tapping your finger with a sly smile, attention captured by her cousin across from you who asked a question, missing the way alexia stared at you adoringly.
little did you know, the ring was already sorted, and true to her word alexia was going to marry you, and nothing else made her heart soar more than the thought of soon getting to call you her wife.
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multicohn · 2 months ago
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summary: fans don’t like lando’s new girlfriend because how scary and emotionless she looks, but he could care less.
warnings: mention of fans not liking the reader
pairing: fem! reader x lando norris
genre: fluff, short one shot, established relationship
face claim: none
author note: lowkey kinda sucks. i don’t have much motivation to write rn but i wanted to upload something 🥲
✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦
the couple had only been dating for only eight months before lando decided to reveal his girlfriend to the public. y/n had no problem with keeping it a secret since they were both unsure if their relationship would even work given the busy schedules they had, but through a lot of communication they managed to make it work. however, fans weren’t very happy since y/n always looked emotionless or angry on screen and in photos despite lando having a giant smile on his face that could rival all might’s ( my hero academia reference ) when he’s beside her. his fans were very vocal about how they felt about her, but neither of them cared.
the british grand prix was only a few days away and ever since they started dating, lando had dreamed of having her being by his side. however, y/n ( had exams that weekend / couldn’t get time off work ). he tried not to show that he was upset, brushing it off with a simple; "well, there's always next year", but y/n knew him too well and knew how much this race meant to him. any other race would have been understandable, but this was the british grand prix.
when lando arrived on thursday, he was immediately greeted by cameras, microphones, and merchandise being shoved at him from every direction.
"you look a little down, lando. not a fan of the weather?" it was quite cloudy that day and the rain was starting to pick up, but it was far from the reasoning behind his mood
"just didn't get a good sleep"
"oh?"
y/n had gone to bed much earlier than usual, saying she needed all the energy she possibly could for tomorrow. lando inquired about what was so important, but she refused to tell him. he had stayed up last night and wondered about what was happening; was her exam worth much more than he realised? / did her job have a special work thing going on that he doesn't remember?
lando sighed deeply as he made his way inside the hospitality area. his hand itching to grab his phone and text y/n despite knowing that she would be busy.
✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦
y/n had lied.
she knew how much this race in particular meant to lando and she wasn’t going to miss it, but the thought of surprising him made her lie about school / work.
unfortunately, her plan slightly backfired as she was going to surprise lando when he finished his practice session, but the weather delayed everything.
shrugging it off, y/n entered the garage to find her boyfriend dressed in his race suit with a windbreak over top and looked to be dozing off in a chair.
“lando” y/n tapped his shoulder gently as she sat down beside him
“oh, hey baby” he commented while staring at her sleepily
. . .
he suddenly shot out of his chair making those around them jump in fright at the sudden movement.
“y/n?” lando rubbed his eyes. sure that his brain is still asleep and making him hallucinate
“yeah?”
“am i dreaming?” she rolled her eyes and turned her attention back to the tv where they were showing fans who were in colourful ponchos or raincoats
she almost laughed at seeing someone’s poncho decorated with george russell’s face.
however, all emotion left y/n's eyes as her face popped up on the screen before it shifted towards lando who was just dazing at her lovingly.
if they were in a cartoon, his eyes would've been hearts.
she heard some people let out “awes” and they started cooing at the couple making the edges of y/n's lips twitch upwards. she turned to her boyfriend and placed a hand on his cheeks before caressing softly.
once they were no longer on screen, y/n leaned forward and kissed her boyfriend gently.
✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦
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sabertoothwalrus · 10 months ago
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so I’ve been gaining a lot of insight into the animation industry recently, especially in regards to pitching & the creation of new shows. There’s a few ways to go about it.
First, there’s pitching to a studio. When you pitch, it has to be SHORT and CONCISE. You may write a lovingly detailed pitch bible that perfectly breaks down episodes and characterizations, and it might barely even get read. First impressions, first impressions, first impressions!
Most peoples’ first projects don’t get picked up. I’ve heard a few stories from directors that said they tried pitching a story they’d had for years, which got rejected, to then spend a week or even several hours in their car coming up with a new idea, only for that to get greenlit.
But that’s not the end of it. Just because a show gets greenlit, doesn’t mean it will ever get finished. There’s lots of things that can happen. Sometimes, unexpected major world events (like… a global pandemic) can cause projects to get chopped. Sometimes, a CEO change or studio merge means a single person can decide a project “no longer fits with the company’s brand.” Sometimes, the one producer that was rooting for your project gets laid off, and no one else cares enough, so it gets shelved. Sometimes, a streaming service decides to create an animation department, and then they decide they don’t want it anymore. Sometimes, the studio will be simultaneously be developing another project that was too similar to yours and they just didn’t think to tell you until they decide yours is the one with less potential.
On top of that, almost everyone in the industry is saying that “studios just don’t pick up original content anymore.” Studios want something they can franchise, something that will bring in money. New content is risky. Established fanbases are safer.
However! Studios can still be a very good thing. They can be unionized. They can provide better benefits and resources. They can have connections and infrastructure and a larger volume of workers. At a studio, you can divide the labor and produce more in less time. Longer episodes, longer seasons, more consistency in quality.
But this comes with all of the disadvantages of having more in the kitchen.
The alternative is indie animation.
With indie animation, you have total freedom. Full artistic control. It doesn’t even matter if your idea sucks ass, because there’s no one to tell you you can’t make it. You could make it anyway, and you can make it whatever you wanted.
The thing is, making animation is hard. In my production class last semester, the average maximum animation one person could make in that timeframe was 30-60 seconds, and that’s not even counting background design, sound design, or cleanup/color. To make a 5 minute animated short, you should probably have at least 5 people.
And it is CRUCIAL you have a production manager. Ideally someone who’s not already doing art for the project. Most projects without a production manager will fall apart pretty quickly. Once the adrenaline and impulse-fueled motivation wears off, you need someone to hold you accountable and enforce deadlines and proper time management.
Speaking of time, that’s also hard to get. The more people you have, the more likely schedules won’t line up. Most people will have school, or other jobs.
And it costs MONEY!!!!!! You either have everyone work for free and volunteer their time & energy, or you establish a business as a proper indie studio, with people who may or may not have experience on how to handle paying someone else’s salary. And the money has to come from somewhere, so you have to rely on crowdfunding like patreon or kickstarter. (This, by the way, is why I could never fault an indie animation for releasing merch with their pilot.)
And like, maybe you wanna do a series, and all your friends agree to volunteer their labor and time to make the first episode, but it was unanimously not sustainable. Deciding not to produce a second episode until you can raise enough money is not being suddenly greedy, it’s attempting to compensate people rather than expecting them to be continuously taken advantage of.
You have to consider your output as well. There are some outliers like Worthikids, who afaik does all his animation himself, and afaik can work on it full-time thanks to his patreon subscribers. And he still has only produced a total of 30 minutes of animation (for Big Top Burger specifically) in the past 4 years. This is an IMPRESSIVE feat and this is with using a lot of 3D as part of his pipeline!!
Indie animation also has the complication of being more accessible for fandoms. When you’re posting your Official Canon Content on youtube, it doesn’t look a lot different than the fandom-created video essay in the sidebar next to it. What’s canon vs what’s fanon becomes less distinguishable. The boundaries are blurrier. When the creator is just some guy you follow on twitter, it’s easier to prod them for info regarding ships and theories and word-of-god confirmation. They don’t have a PR team or entire international tv networks to appeal to. And this is when creators get frustrated that their fans snowball and turn their creation into something they don’t recognize (and no longer enjoy) anymore.
So it’s tricky.
Thankfully, the threshold to learn animation is fairly low nowadays!! There are TONS of resources online to learn it on your own without forking over a couple hundred thousand to a private art college. There are conventions and discord servers and events where you can network, if you know where to look.
I know it can seem discouraging in the face of capitalism, but I think that’s all the more reason why it’s so important to BE DETERMINED about animation!! We’re already starting to see the beginning of an indie animation boom, and I think it’s a testament to humanity’s desire to tell stories and create art. Even if there’s no financial gain, we do whatever it takes to tell our stories anyway.
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hs-is-loml · 2 years ago
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Don't Make Me Say It Again. (x.t)
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Pairing: Xavier Thorpe x Fem!Addams!Reader
Summary: blurb! xavier is close to snapping when you don't realize what he has been hinting.
Warnings: mutual pining, fluff
a/n: okay, another one before i go torture myself in actually reading my textbook that i haven't picked up in weeks.
masterlist
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“Shouldn’t you be with your sister?” Xavier questioned as you tied on your apron.
“No, she wanted to work at pilgrim world for some odd reason. I would rather die than dress up as a colonist,” you informed the boy.
“That doesn’t surprise me.”
“Hey, Y/N! Need a hand?” Tyler called out from behind the counter as you and Xavier cleaned the tables.
“Already got one,” you replied back pointing to Thing wiping the table.
“I thought I told you and your sister that he was bad news,” Xavier whispered to you as he reached over to grab a mug on your side of the table.
“Twice actually, but I couldn’t care less about him. Wait. Enlighten me,” you turned to face him.
That was when you noticed how close you two actually were. Though you were standing around a foot away from each other, it was concerning how he seemed to step closer to talk.
“It happened last Outreach Day. I was working on a mural for the town then he and his friends come up and start attacking me. They destroyed the mural and left me with bruised ribs. People like him don’t like people like us,” he explained.
“Hm.”
“It’s not like you would care anyways, right?” Xavier scoffed walking off to the next table.
“It seems like he’s changed, quiter softer now, which is disappointing,” you admitted as you followed Xavier. “Why do you care so much if I talk to him though?”
“You’re kidding.”
“Why would I kid?” you blanked.
“Open your eyes, Y/N! I have been here on your side this entire time, and you still don’t get it?” Xavier snapped banging the table with the tub full of plates and mugs taking a step closer to you. “Sometimes it’s unbelievable how little empathy you have for others.”
“Xavier,” you breathed out taking a step back.
“I like you, Y/n. What do I have to do for you to see that?” he followed in taking a step closer.
“You know I don’t actually like Tyler, right? You might be an imbecile and infuriating but-” you hinted.
“Really know how to make a guy blush,” he let out a small laugh.
“It’s the attributes I like about you though,” you muttered under your breath.
“What was that?” he mocked.
“Don’t make me say it again,” you deadpanned looking down on the floor avoiding his gaze.
“No, I don’t think I heard you the first time,” he joked he lifted your chin with his hand. “What did you say?”
“I’m not saying it again.”
“You gonna let me kiss you?”
“Depends,” you answered.
He moved his hand from your chin to the back of your neck pulling you into a kiss. You found yourself kissing him back wrapping your arms around his neck. You could feel him smile into the kiss. You didn’t kow how long you to stayed there for until you heard a cough behind you.
“Seems like you’ve had fun working,” Wednesday said unimpressed as she pulled you away from Xavier. In which he just laughed as you tried to get your arm out of Wednesday’s grip.
"Wednesday, why do you always have to grab the same arm," you whined as she dragged you out.
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marvelwitchergilmore · 3 months ago
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Simple Gestures
Summary: Logan x Fe!Reader -> You and Logan, despite getting off on the wrong foot, find yourselves falling in love through simple gestures.
Disclaimer: Mostly cute fluff, an almost kiss in the snow, stargazing, stealing clothes, a little violence in the beginning, a meet ugly, simple gestures of love. Light swearing, happy ending. Not Proof Read.
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Yourself and Logan had fallen in love through simple gestures. Although, that wasn’t how it always was. 
In the beginning, neither of you had exactly been in the other’s good books. Though, you supposed that had something to do with what Rogue would call your “meet cute” rather than your individual personalities. 
Your “meet cute” (as Rogue put it) had been when Xavier had first tried to recruit you to join X-Men. 
At the time, you had been living in Colorado and was spending most days either working at the library or working at the local bar. And one evening when you got home, you found three strangers on your veranda meaning they had misread your “Keep Out” sign at the pathway entrance, or had completely elected to ignore it. 
“I don’t know what you’re selling but I’m not buying.” 
You walked through the three of them and their huddle, opened up your screen door, unlocked your front door and slammed both in their faces. 
“Logan,” you heard a British voice sigh before an American one replied with; “I’m on it.”
Maybe he was Canadian?
Either way, he didn’t sound thrilled to be having to do whatever he knew was being asked of him. 
But you soon found out what that was because a few moments later, he was opening up your back door. 
So, as any woman would do when a stranger is ignoring her polite “fuck off, please” and trying to get through the back door of her home. 
You threw a book at him. 
And it wasn’t just any book. 
It was a hardback copy of Kings and Queens of Britain. 
“Wha- Jesus!”
Stumbling back, Logan caught hold of the door frame as his head mended his new found concussion. 
“Get out!” you screamed. 
Finding yourself walking towards him, you were about to shove him out when he noticed what had hit him and before you could throw a punch to his face, he caught your wrist. 
“Whoa, hey, wait. We’re not here to hurt you.”
“Said every intruder ever.”
“Please, Ms Y/l/n.” The British guy was back. “We only wish to talk.”
“Yeah?” You looked around at the three of them before you looked back at the book. Logan’s grip squeezed on your wrist to get your attention. 
He had it. 
“I wouldn’t think about it.”
Glaring from Logan, you turned back to the Brit. “Please. Just five minutes of your time.”
Once more you looked around them and yanked your wrist from Logan’s grip. Turning, you picked up your book and placed it back where you had found it. 
“You have a funny way of showing it,” you grumbled to yourself as you walked further inside. 
The three of them entered and stood around your living room as you walked from your kitchen and back in again. It was more of an open floor plan so they could still see you. Not that you were trying to hide from them. 
“So why are you here? Other than trying to break into my home?”
“We wish to offer you a job,” the woman said. 
“And you are?”
She smiled at you. So far, she was the only one you liked. “Ororo. But you can also call me Storm. And this here is Logan.”
You looked at him. “We’ve met.”
Logan mirrored your look to him. 
“And this is-”
“Professor Charles Xavier.” He introduced himself. 
You nodded. “What sort of job?”
“It’s to be a part of our team. The X-Men.”
You took a gulp of your drink. “And I want to be a part of this…why?”
The Professor rolled forward. “Ms Y/l/n-”
“Y/n.”
The Brit smiled. “Y/n. Our team is made up of some of the best people we know who are like us. Mutants.”
You paused. “Mutants?”
“Ororo here can control the weather. Hence her nickname, Storm. And Logan-”
“Is what? Catwoman? I mean, with the breaking and entering and the little kitty ears for hair, it sure does fit him.” 
Storm chuckled and Logan looked less than amused. The Professor held back his laugh, too. “Actually, Logan is, well…”
Turning his head to look at him, Logan rolled his eyes a little and gave a short sigh before bringing his fist up and clenching it just as metal claws came out. 
You grimaced. “That’s super gross.”
Logan rolled his eyes once more and put his claws away. 
“Like I was saying, our team is made up of mutants, who can help people. And with your reputation preceding you, I figured we might as well come down here and ask you ourselves.”
Looking around them all, you debated the idea. 
“Why me?”
“Your mutant abilities might prove a successful part in building our team.” Ororo explained. “With talents like yours and by joining our team, you’ll be able to help more people than just the locals here. Those in serious danger could use your help, just like they could use ours.”
“And you just expect me to join you? Like that?”
“There are other parts to your job, such as becoming a teacher. I run a school for the gifted. For mutants. To help them earn a well rounded education as well as helping them learn how to control their powers.”
Logan was baffled. “I thought we were here to put her on the team, not give her a teaching position. She can’t be a teacher.”
“Why not?” Storm asked. 
“For one,” Logan gestured to you. “She works in a bar.”
Your arms crossed your chest. “Someone’s been reading my CV.”
“You really think making a bartender a teacher is a good thing?”
Your brows knotted for a moment. “I’ll have you know I do have a teaching degree and working in a bar is only part time. I also work at a library.”
“She has a teaching degree and she’s not even a teacher.”
The Professor shrugged. “This gives her a chance to put it to good use.”
“What will I be teaching?”
“Well, considering your degree is in English and History, you’ll primarily be teaching English to our students.” The Professor smiled. “And you can take some of Logan’s classes as we move closer to final exams for our older students.”
You looked at Logan, a little shocked. From the jeans and leather jacket, you figured he’d teach something like gym or shop. That’s if he was even a teacher and not just hired muscle. 
“You,” you pointed at Logan. “Teach History?”
A little offended by your shock, Logan nodded. “I’ve lived through most of it.”
“How old are you?”
By your tone, Logan was nowhere near being less offended by you.
After more than just a five minute conversation, you agreed to take the job. And six weeks later, you had your things packed, had moved into your new room and was already teaching some new classes. 
However, considering you were already taking one of Logan’s classes a week as he helped the older students prepare for their mock exams, and neither your or Logan had gotten off on the best foot, things were a little…icy. 
“You need to get neater handwriting.” Logan blurted out one afternoon as you were both sitting in the teachers break room. 
“Excuse me?”
Logan practically slammed another paper beside his thigh. “You write like a five year old.”
“Fast handwriting is a sign of intelligence,” you pointed out. 
“Fast, maybe. But illegible isn’t.”
Another paper went down by his side. 
“You know, maybe if you took your time to actually read, you’d be able to see what it said and it wouldn’t look so much like a blur across a page.”
Logan sighed, marking another paper. “I’ve been doing this a lot longer than you have.”
“Logan, I practically read for a living. I’m living every introvert's dream.”
Logan sighed, shuffling his finished papers. “And I mark for a living. Fixed your handwriting.”
Placing half of the papers back with you, Logan walked out carrying the rest with him. And as he did so, you took the top paper from the pile and read where you had written your feedback for the student. 
“It’s not illegible.”
Six months in, not much had changed. 
You and Logan still held small hostilities to one another. Though, on the handwriting front, Logan stopped mentioning it after three months so either he gave up on ever trying to change your handwriting, or he got used to it enough that he could finally understand it. 
And as time went on, the students started to gather their own opinions on you and Logan, both as individuals but also…
As a couple. 
And it was simply by luck that neither you or Logan had found out about it. 
The first teacher to find out was Storm during one of her classes, to which she mentioned it to Jean who later heard the same from her students before she shared it with Scott in the privacy of their bedroom as they were getting ready for bed one night. 
Soon enough, all the teachers save for you and Logan knew of the group of students “shipping” yourself and Logan. 
But things between you and Logan began to change almost a year into you starting your position at the school. 
“But she’s annoying.”
You already knew Logan was talking about you. Over the course of a year you’d somehow become accustomed to the tone and tune of Logan's voice when he was talking about you. 
“Oh, please,” you grumbled as you entered the Professor’s office, still dressed in your pjs. 
Though, considering you had fallen asleep in lounge wear that consisted of joggers, an old t-shirt and a black hoodie which you were 40% sure had been Logan’s at some point, you figured you could get away with being dressed the way you were at eleven in the morning. 
“I annoy everyone,” you told Logan.
“Ain’t that the truth.” Logan mumbled. 
“You’re nothing special.”
The Professor smiled to himself. Storm and the others would get a kick out of this later. 
“Thank you for joining us.”
“Why aren’t you dressed?”
You drank your coffee. “Not all of us sleep in jeans, Logan.”
“I don’t sleep in jeans.”
“Please, you’re never out of them.”
The Professor cleared his throat. “As I was just telling Logan, since final exams are coming up, I would like you and Logan to work through a plan together for next semester's classes. It seems we have a few more students than we had planned, taking History as an option next year. I’ll leave it to you both to work it out, but when you’ve finished, please give me a copy of your schedule.”
“Oh,” the Professor continued. “And please let it be an actual plan this time, Logan. Not a scribble on the back of a napkin from the kitchens. I’ll make sure the library is free tonight so you can both work without any interruptions.”
So there it was. 
After almost a year, you and Logan were being told to spend time alone together after half of the team had worked their hardest to try and make sure someone else was in the room when it came to you two in fear of you both finally snapping and doing more damage than what an encyclopaedia could do to an adamantium skeleton. 
And when Logan found you that night, he felt something shift. 
Both universally and inside of him. 
Walking into the library, he was expecting to find you absent from your chair. But instead he found you sitting at one of the desks, your ankles crossed beneath your chair, multiple notebooks around the place, two pencils in your hair, one between your teeth, pens across the desk (some without caps) and you frantically searching for something. 
On one of the smaller tables behind the sofa, Logan found a familiar notebook which he knew belonged to you, flipped open onto a page. 
Somehow in the past couple of months he’d become fluent in you. From comparing your handwriting to that of a five year old, it wasn’t long until he began to pick out words and eventually became a master in your handwriting. 
Even the others came to him, most of the time shoving your note in front of him and asking him to read it. 
“Looking for this?”
You looked up at Logan and gave a look of relief. “I thought I’d left it upstairs.”
You took it from him. “Thank you. Now where did I put my pen?”
In a similar fit of desperation, you started looking around for your pen, but something made Logan smile. Leaning across the desk, his palm on top of a couple of sheets of loose paperwork, he raised his other hand and you stopped. 
“What? What is it?”
Reaching up and behind you, you felt Logan pull something from your hair before he presented it to you with a soft smirk. 
“Is this what you are looking for?”
You looked from the pen to Logan and back to the pen before plucking it from his fingers. “Thanks.”
Logan watched as your gaze flicked from his back to your work. He stood up. “What’s all this?”
“Just things for lessons. Oh, uh, here.”
You pulled a different notepad from beneath the chaotic pile. “This is my plan for the lessons next semester. Tell me what you think.”
Logan watched as you went back to scribbling before he opened up the notepad and read through it. 
“This is good. I can take a couple more classes closer to Christmas, though. Kids’ are gonna need you for the English exams.”
You nodded. “Okay.”
“How long have you been sitting here?”
You shrugged before holding down the paper you were writing on, almost like it was about to fly away. “Couple hours. I’m almost done.”
Logan looked from you and back to the pad. “I can take more lessons before Spring Break, too.”
Picking up one of the uncapped pens, Logan made his adjustments to your plan before pulling out a chair and sitting across from you. 
And for the first time, there was peace between yourself and Logan. He used your notepad to draw up a copy for the Professor on his laptop whilst you finished up your rougher lesson plans for the next couple of weeks. 
It was in the moments Logan looked at you, sitting across from him, that he felt something shift. He couldn’t tell what it was exactly, but somehow, rather than arguing with you over the fact you were wearing his hoodie that had gone missing a few months ago, he found himself admiring you in it. How cosy you looked. How warm and comforted you looked. 
And something sparked in him when he realised something of his brought you that. 
Time pressed on and those civil moments that seemed to be saved for one day out of the year, became less and less rare. 
In fact, you now found yourself looking forward to spending time with Logan. 
A sentence you never thought possible. 
You’d spent so long bickering and fighting and glaring at each other over the smallest things, that you’d both failed to realise that you could actually be quite good friends.
At the beginning of the new academic year, the students and even some of the teachers thought someone had lost complete control of their power and had set something on you and Logan. 
But no. 
You had both simply…made friends. 
Now rather than frosty mornings spent poking fun at each other, mornings were calm and a little warmer. Of course, you and Logan still bickered occasionally. Mainly when you had pointed out the change in your dynamic. 
“No, this is too weird.”
“What’s too weird?”
“Us,” you gestured between yourself and Logan. “We’re friends.”
“Thank you, Captain Obvious.”
You almost whimpered. “Don’t you find it weird?”
“That we’ve gone from not being allowed alone in a room together to being friends?” 
You nodded. 
“No.”
Logan continued hanging up the posters around your classroom. 
You sighed. “You know, sometimes you can agree with me?”
He nodded. “I know. But it is fun watching you squirm.”
“I don’t squirm.”
“You’re squirming right now because rather than bickering, which we are still doing, we’re friends.”
 You sighed and handed Logan another poster. 
Soon the days began to feel like they were bleeding into one until finally Christmas break came around and you found yourself sitting in the kitchen on a snowy day, eating some soup. 
“What is it?”
Logan had walked in to find you looking at your soup with a confused look. 
“Something’s missing.”
Less than twenty seconds later, Logan dumped some crackers beside your bowl. That’s what was missing. 
“You’re missing snow day, by the way.”
You dipped one into your soup and ate it. “I’ll be out later. If I can just find my hoodie.”
“You mean my hoodie?”
“It became my hoodie a long time ago,” you told Logan. 
Then you watched as he smirked a little before walking out of the kitchen and towards the laundry room. When he returned, he was carrying the black hoodie and handed it to you. It was still warm. 
“You left it in the library the other night after you spilled some milk down it. So I washed it.”
You smiled, almost vibrating in your seat with excitement to have a freshly washed and warm hoodie. It warmed you instantly, for more than just being fresh out of the dryer. 
A few hours later, it was keeping you warmer still as you were being pelted with snowballs by a couple of the students and eventually found yourself being chased by Logan down the field after you had sent one flying to the back of his head causing it to run down the back of his clothes. 
He caught you, spinning you both before you both found yourself rolling in the snow. Except, as you both came to a stop, Logan was flat on his back, his arms still around you and you were lying against his chest, your faces mere inches away from each other. 
And as the laughter died down and the smiles remained, you felt something shift. 
Looking from Logan’s eyes, you own dropped to his mouth for a moment before coming back up again. And you couldn’t help but notice he did the same with you. Suddenly, his hands that had kept you steady were now creeping across your back and his touch was practically seeping into your skin. 
Only, before anything could happen, you were both hit with a snowball. 
“Come on you two, we’re dying out here!” Rogue yelled before narrowly missing a snowball being thrown at her. 
You and Logan laughed before scrambling to your feet and heading back into the game. 
Later that evening as you and Logan were doing the last rounds of the school, you’d found a couple of kids fast asleep in their pjs, clearly having snuck out of bed at the last minute to watch the late night snowfall. 
Yourself and Logan carried them back to bed, you shutting the light off as Logan closed the door quietly. And as he bid you goodnight, a part of you couldn’t help but wish that you weren’t going off to a different room, two hallways down from him. 
However, it was only a few mornings later when Logan came and woke you earlier in the morning than usual to bring you down to breakfast where everyone was up and ready for the day. It was a surprise field trip and by the time you had gone back to your room to get dressed, you gave a small yelp as you opened the door back up to find Logan already standing there. His fist was held up, just getting ready to knock on. 
“Jesus, Logan. Give a girl a word of warning before you go to knock her out.”
Logan chuckled a little. “You ready?”
You grabbed your bag. “Yeah, let's go.”
The day was fun but it was long and after spending half of the night convincing yourself of “one more chapter, then sleep” – it was safe to say you were knackered. 
So when Logan pressed his hand to your head and brought it down to rest on his shoulder as he leaned back, you didn’t protest. 
Only, since your eyes were closed, you had missed the small smile on his face when he noticed you were nodding off and the comfortable sigh that left him when he realised you were fast asleep against him. 
Halfway back to the school, he’d felt you shiver a little. 
“Rogue?”
She pulled out her headphones and looked back at him. “Yeah?”
“There’s a blanket in the cabin above your head. Pass it to me.”
Unbuckling her seatbelt, she did so, but took time to take in the picture before her as Logan covered both himself and you up as you slept. 
“What?”
Rogue just smiled, “Nothing.”
And she sat back down. And for as much as Logan wondered what Rogue meant by her smile, the thought left his head when he looked back down at you and you snuggled in closer to him. 
Once you all finally got back, Logan led you to your bedroom and slipped the shoes off your feet as you climbed under your covers. But as he went to walk away, you reached out and grabbed hold of his hand. 
And for a moment, he soaked it all in. 
The feeling of you holding his hand. The feeling of you falling asleep against him. The feeling of you. 
Until you let go.
It was only a few months later that you held onto his hand again, except this time you were fully conscious and didn’t let go until after the plane had landed. 
You had known Logan was afraid of flying since you first met him. You’d gotten onto that plane to take a short tour around the school before you officially accepted the job. Only, as you stepped onto the plane, you noticed Logan became tenser. And when it finally took off, he seemed like he was either wishing to pass out or he was gonna puke. 
“You’re afraid of flying.” You said almost with a smile, delighted to find out that the gruff man you’d thrown a book at merely an hour before, was afraid of something. 
Logan's stomach churned. “If man was meant to fly, he’d grow wings.”
You leaned back watching him with a smile. “Some already have.”
Logan just looked at you and tried to put his focus elsewhere. 
Knowing this, and finally being his friend, you found a seat next to him. The flight was going to be a long one. 
“How can you be afraid of flying? Weren’t you in the army for like…a gazillion years?” You asked as you boarded on with him. 
“You try nearly dying each time you get in one of these things, see how bad you’re itching to get back in one again.”
Logan put his bag in the compartment at the back before taking yours and placing it with his. As he buckled his seatbelt, you found difficulty with yours and just as you were about to give up or, at the very least, swear at the inanimate object, Logan’s body turned and helped you do it up. 
“These can be tricky.”
He clipped it together. “Thanks.”
He looked at you before sitting back in his seat, trying to find something to concentrate on as the jet started to lift. 
Only, his search to find something else became distracted when your hand reached across and held onto his. And for a moment, he was shocked. And then he smiled. And relaxed a little. With a little bit of turbulence, he squeezed your hand but never enough to truly hurt. 
But you never let go. 
And when the jet finally landed and you both found tarmac under your feet, you felt the climate hit you a lot more than you had been expecting. Except, less than a minute later, the familiar scent of Logan surrounded you and you found his jacket spreading over your shoulders. 
You smiled, letting your senses drown in his scent and warmth before you slipped your arms through the holes and found your way to your intended location. 
A week later, you were all sitting around in the living room, reading different things or watching TV. However, Logan lay on the sofa with his head in your lap, slowly dozing off to the sound of the TV, you turning your book pages every now and again and your heartbeat which only seemed to be amplified when he pressed his ear to your leg, hearing the blood rush around your body. 
By the time he woke up, everyone had disappeared, the lamps were on, the TV was on low and you were sitting on the floor, not too far from his head, going through a small pile of essays. 
“Hey.”
His voice sounded a little rougher than usual. You turned your head and smiled. It wasn’t often you got to see sleepy Logan, let alone comfortable Logan. 
“What are you doing?”
“Just some marking. Ooh, now you're awake, can you read what this says?”
Logan took the paper from you and looked at it. “This is your handwriting.”
“I know but I can’t tell what it says.”
But Logan could. 
You thanked him before taking the paper back. “Sometimes I think you know my handwriting better than I know my handwriting. Case in point.”
“You’re your own language.”
You smiled. “And after a year, you’re an expert. Maybe you missed your calling. Logan, the Language teacher. Read and speak in English, grunts, kitty cat and my handwriting.”
Logan groaned, trying to hide his smile. He was still waking up. His muscles couldn’t fight it off just yet. “I’m not a cat.”
“You have quite literal claws.”
“I’m Wolverine.”
You jokingly scoffed. “You’re a cat. But it’s okay, I won’t tell anyone.”
Logan just rolled his eyes with his smile and brought his hand over to cover your mouth. “You done?”
You eventually nodded and went back to marking the essays whilst Logan simply watched you. 
He’d found himself doing more of that recently; watching you. Not in a stalker kinda way- at least, he hoped not. But just small things you did in the day. Grading papers, scribbling on paper, walking down the hallway and somehow avoiding every pillar and post on the way despite your nose being buried deep inside whatever book you were reading. 
And he’d noticed more things about you, too. 
How you walked, how you moved. And when you were in the zone, it was almost like watching you dance. You knew what you were doing, ten steps ahead of time. You’d caught more students talking and passing notes more than even he had. 
Some days, when he was on his lunch break, he’d sneak into the back of your classroom. The class would be fully engrossed in whatever it was you were talking about, so he mostly went unnoticed. So, he’d pull up a chair at the back and sit in the sea of students. 
And when he forced himself to pay attention to what you were saying, rather than just checking you out and watching you, he managed to learn a thing or two. 
It was also on some of those days, you’d find a protein bar and a coffee at your desk by the time you returned back to class. 
For another year, these small gestures continued. You, holding his hand during a plane ride, him bringing you coffee and a snack, both of you falling asleep on each other, him routinely finding lost pens and pencils that most of the time were stuck in your hair or behind you ear. Even going so far as to bring each other meals when you knew the other had missed one. 
That was how the “dates” started. Sometimes in the library, other times in the kitchen or out in the garden. If one of you was missing for a meal, the other would wrap leftovers on a plate. 
Across a couple of these nights, some of the students had gone unnoticed when passing the rooms. Because, when you and Logan looked at each other, everything else faded away. 
And then one night everything changed. 
Everything went from the small moments and small gestures and a friendship that made you question if that’s all you wanted when it came to Logan, to both of you confronting your questions with the answers you’d both known, deep down, for a long time. 
Or maybe it was just one answer. 
“Yes.”
Logan turned and found Rogue leaning in the hallway. He placed down the photo frame he’d been holding. 
“I was just looking at some pictures. Found one of you.”
Logan picked up a second and held it out for her to see. “Cute. But, I don’t think that’s why you were looking here.”
Rogue put the photo down and picked up the familiar frame. The picture Logan had just been holding. 
“You know, if you asked her, she’d probably say yes.”
Logan put the photo back down. “Say yes to what?”
“You know what.”
“No, I don’t.”
Rogue gave a smirk as she watched Logan walk away. And she followed after him. 
“You can’t just run away from feelings, you know. They’re inside of you. Unless you can outrun your own skin, you can’t leave them behind.”
Logan looked at her. “Don’t you have a class to be in?”
“My final exam is tomorrow.”
Logan pushed open the door. “Then shouldn’t you be studying?”
“Giving my eyes a break.” Rogue hopped down the steps behind him. “It’s just a date, Logan. Everyone already knows you’ve completed steps 4 through 20. Just need to complete the first three.”
“Three?”
Rogue followed Logan into the garage. “Ask her out on a date, first kiss and first…time.”
Rogue smiled up at Logan a little, watching him blush a little before awkwardly walking away. “I forget you’re old enough to know about stuff like that.”
She rolled her eyes. “It’s just sex, Logan. But the more important part here is step one. Asking her out on a date.”
“And why would I do that?”
“Step twenty.” Rogue told him. “You’re in love with her.”
Logan paused what he was doing and turned to look at Rogue. “Logan, you can’t just keep running away each time you feel something for someone.”
“I’m not running away.”
“Then where are you going?”
“To the store. We need some things.”
Rogue sighed, getting back to her point. “Look, I get your whole “lone wolf” act, but you keep forgetting something.”
“Really? And what’s that?”
“A lone wolf can still find a pack. Better yet, build one of their own.” 
Logan took in Rogue’s expression as she held onto the door on the other side of the truck. He sighed. 
“Do you need anything from the store?”
“Period pads.”
By the time Logan got back from the store, it was almost nightfall. He left the bag of products inside Rogue’s door before he headed into the kitchen and found it…quiet.
“Where is everyone?” Logan asked as he put the milk away. 
You looked over your shoulder from the stove. “Jean and Scott are out on a date, Ororo took the kids out with the Professor. Last minute deal – they get to spend a night inside a museum.”
“Anyone else home?”
You shook your head. “Just us.”
“So,” Logan eventually found his seat across the kitchen island from you. “What do you want to do?”
You shrugged. “I don’t know. I didn’t really have a plan outside making dinner and eating outside.”
So that’s what you both ended up doing. Sitting outside, under the stars, backlit by the lights from the kitchen, eating dinner. 
Logan washed up inside, looking over his shoulder every now and again to see you stood outside, looking up at the sky. 
“You know, back home you could see all the stars. I think I was about ten when I finished mapping out all the constellations I could see.”
Logan leaned against the backdoor, listening to you explain. Then with a smile and a kick of his feet, he made his way over to you. 
“Here.”
“What?”
Logan opened up his jacket for you and you thanked him quietly as he helped you slip it on. It was big, the sleeves managing to cover your hands more than your own jackets did. 
Twirling you around, Logan pulled the jacket close by the collar and you found yourself inches from him. 
“Figured you’d get cold.”
You smiled. “Thank you.”
And for a while, you both just looked at each other. You’d noticed Logan always had this look on his face when he looked at you. You just couldn’t pin it. But then it shifted. Like you could see the cogs turning in his head, but he had come to a conclusion before you could ask. 
“What?”
“Do you want to go on a date?”
You felt yourself reel back a little, trying to decide if he was bullshitting you or not. And it took a moment or two, but once you realised he was being serious you said…
“Yes.”
“With me?”
You nodded with a smile. “I’d love to.”
“Are you sure?” Logan asked, his hands still holding onto the jacket. 
You raised your brow slightly. “Are you sure?”
“I wouldn’t have asked if I wasn’t.”
“Good.” You gave a short nod before looking back at him. “I like a man who knows what he wants.”
Brushing the hair from your face to behind your ear, Logan smiled. And so did you. Feeling his warmth through his palm as he caressed your face, he drew you in. 
And when his lips finally met yours, something seemed to click into place. 
That feeling that had been growing inside of you, ever since you saw him for the first time when he’d pulled the pen from your hair all those nights ago, was finalised. 
This had been the shift. This was the change. You’d both taken a step forward without realising it and had found not only comfort but love in each other's presence. 
“Are you busy now?”
You shrugged, your arms looping around the back of Logan’s neck. “Depends. What for?”
“For our date.”
“Now?” You asked, a little shocked. 
Logan nodded. “Come with me.”
Holding onto his hand, he hurried you down the stone steps and towards the garden. You laughed. 
“Logan, slow down. Where are we going?”
He smiled. “You’ll see.”
And you did. 
He’d taken you to the greenhouse, climbing up the spiralling staircase and out onto the small rooftop. 
Looking up to the sky, you took in a breath. 
“It’s gorgeous.”
You were in amazement. The greenhouse was far enough away from the school that none of the lights from it polluted your vision. The sky was as clear as it had ever been and you felt like you could see for miles on end. Most of it was woodland, covered with a blanket of stars. 
It was one of the most extraordinary things you had seen in a long time. 
However, when you looked to find Logan to gauge his reaction, you just found him looking at you. 
956 notes · View notes
xqueen-of-disasterx · 9 months ago
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Hey there could I request G!P professor!nat x shy!quiet!reader where reader goes to the school dance alone and feels like a loser for not having the balls to talk or join in with other people but then nat decides to keep her company because she can’t stand seeing her favorite student all pathetic just standing there like a lost puppy and then they sneak off to do “other” stuff
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Paring: fem!reader x prof!Nat
Warnings: SMUT, amab!Nat, top!Nat, bottom!reader, age gap (legal), taboo relationship, soft sex, p in v, brief oral, soft!Nat, virgin!reader, gentlewoman!Nat
!Disclaimer English is not my first language so please excuse any grammar or spelling errors. This story is completely fictional. I do not own these characters!
A/N: I’m not dead yet and more active noe
I had always thought in college things would change for girls like me, the quiet ones, with a few friends, who you would only talk to to copy their homework. However it stayed that way or at least for me. I had found my small group of friends but I was far from well socialised in my college. But I wasn’t complaining about it either after all it left more time to study.
Most of the lessons I attended were boring except for one: Russians literature with Professors Romanoff, a tall, athletic woman, with red hair and the greenest eyes you had ever seen. You didn’t mind her talking for hours about poems and novels and what we were supposed to think of them. However you couldn’t care less about the words leaving her mouth when you’re eyes were only fixated on her lips.
Eventually more of the semester passed and soon it was time for the annual ball. Because of your low social status you didn’t even try to find a date opting on going alone instead, it wouldn’t be that bad right?
Once there you where alone, the few friends which you had didn’t bother to attend so you stood alone at the side of the large room your eyes fixated on the ground. You should just go, you thought to yourself. “Good evening, Y/N” you heard the familiar husky voice next to you. You looked up only to be greeted by your smirking professor. She looked gorgeous having picked out a matching suit to her eyes.
“Hi, Ms. Romanoff” she leaned against the wall next to me her eyes darting over my smaller body. “Where’s your date?” “I don’t have one” I answered truthfully, her expression stayed the same it was hard to read her. “And you’re friends?” I sighed she knew the answer to that already. “They didn’t attend.” She chuckled licking her lips like a predator who just found it’s helpless prey. “Poor girl, all alone and needs her professor to keep her company”
I let out a small laugh which sounded incredibly fake. Her words made my cheeks heat and I didn’t even know why. “Could be worse” I looked up in her eyes again “You’re a very pleasant conversation partner” “Am I?” She chuckled “That means a lot to me, hearing my favorite student say something like that” “I’m your favorite?” you stammered out “Trust me bunny a girl like you” Her hand trailed to my hip “You hardly get something like that every ten years. I’m very happy to have you”
Her words made my heart flutter and my head turn. I was special, Romanoff’s girl. “Do you mean that?” My voice was still a bit shaky. “Of course I do. We should go somewhere more private” I nodded her hand intertwined with mine she pulled me with her through the masses into the parking lot. Once seated in her expensive looking her hand never left my thigh before she started the car she leaned over to me our lips inches apart I tried to lean forward but her hands pushed my shoulder back against the car seat.
“Don’t do this to make me happy” She paused her eyes looking sensire “It won’t affect your grade no matter how you decide.” “I want this”
I breathed out our lips immediately finding each other. The kiss was passionate and heated until Nat pulled away to fasten my seat belt.
“I’ll drive to my apartment” She put her own seatbelt on “Is that okay with you or do you want to go to your dorm” “I’d like to join your tonight” Natasha gave you a cheeky grin at the response her plan had worked out perfectly.
Arriving at her apartment she seated you on her leather couch. She paced around her living room having two wine glasses in hand. “Do you want a glass?” I laughed I was extremely nervous but in a good way “Oh, I don’t drink but I’ll have a water instead” She just nodded accepting my preferences.
“You’re the prettiest girl I’ve met” She laughed slipping away from her wine glass. “And I’m not just saying that because of the wine.” She added she was sat next to her hand on your thigh. She had long forgotten about her crumpled up suit jacket on the ground though she normally was so precise about keeping everything organized.
“You don’t look bad either” You laughed she pulled you on her lap forcing you to but your legs on either side her crotch on yours. “Let me kiss you” she mumbled against you wet lips. You lips were pressed together so where your bodies and you could feel a bulge poking you. “Fuck you make me so hard” she breathed out on your lips making you moan out in response.
We were caught in the dance of our tongues when I felt her standing up her arms under my ass supporting my weight. I giggle and tighten my grip around her. “Let me take you to the bedroom”
She laid me out on the bed being careful with every item removed and making sure I was comfortable. She kissed everything inch of my skin paying extra attention to my sweet spots and I never felt so loved before. “Have you done that before” She breathed put against my skin.
“Never” I answer truthfully and suddenly I felt a dang of jealousy in my chest. “Is that- a problem?” My professor moved up again before kissing me “Of course not” She looked me in the eyes with her green eyes. “Will you let me be your first” She was being incredibly cheesy but Iiked that. It made me feel safe. “Yes”
She took one of my nipples in her mouth twisting and turning the other with her trained fingertips. She made me putty in her hands with each lick or flick she brought a new sound from my tongue.
My back arched which only made her increase the speed of her movements. After she seemed it to be enough foreplay she kissed her way down to my pubic bone, pressing her nose against my skin to take in the smell of my sweet arrausel. “Can I bunny?” She smirked and kissed your clit I was already wet but Nat was dying for a taste. She flicked her tongue over my now exposed bud. The pleasure was incredible better than any other toy I ever had and you tried to not lose my mind as she teased you bundle of nerves.
She pulled away shortly after ripping away my release in front of my eyes. I looked at her confused as she was already freeing herself from her boxer. She didn’t have a size to be ashamed of and her bush was well groomed too, like you would’ve suspected. She pumped herself a few times groaning until she was fully hard a little droplet of cum on the redden tip.
“Wait I’ll put a condom on” She reached for the drawer but you stopped her “I’m on the pill” Her lips formed a smirk as she positioned herself between my legs. “It’s not gonna hurt sweetheart” She reassured you kissing my neck.
She pushed inside and I making me scratch down her toned back making her whimper. Fuck her whimpers where hot. She bottomed me out looking down at where our bodies were connected she smiled up at you and you smiled back and after I nodded to her she picked up pace.
She was slow at first making me want more you could tell she being careful with you. “Faster” I moaned out making you hips buckle into her trusts. She moaned like a pornstar panting above me as she increased her speed the bed creaking. She made my back arch and my eyes squeezed shut as I released my quiet prayers for her.
“You close?” She panted and I nod “Fuck, your so tight” I grabbed on her shoulders scratching down as I came all over her shortly after she filled me up too. She pulled out the cum leaking down my legs. She climbed up my body flipping us over so I lay on her chest.
“You’re my favourite” She whispered and kissed my sweaty forehead
:)
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hellfirenacht · 2 months ago
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Anomaly Part 3
Summary: You can talk to anyone in school with no problem. At least, anyone who’s not named Eddie Munson.
Tags: Anxious-ish!Reader but not shy, one sided pining, no use of y/n, fem!reader, one sided enemies to lovers, fem!reader
2.4k Words
Part 1, Part 2, Master List
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Miles Cooper was still at school the following week, which meant that he was given no consequences for what had happened to you or for blaming Eddie. 
Eddie couldn’t even say he was surprised by this point. If Eddie really had been the one to trip you up, he was sure he’d get suspended or even expelled. It was so close to the end of the year and he could feel that Higgins was looking for any reason to keep him from walking across that stage to get his diploma. 
You hadn’t shown up on Monday. Not that it mattered to Eddie either way, you two didn’t even know each other. But you had cleared his name. That was the thought that kept buzzing around his brain like a mosquito that he just couldn’t swat. Despite the glares and the snide remarks, you had gone out of your way to make sure that he didn’t get in trouble for something he didn’t do, which is more than what he could say for a lot of people at this school.
He had to give you credit for that at least. Not many people outside of his small friend circle would stick up for him like that. 
With work and band practice, it was easy to forget about you until Wednesday when you showed up to English class with a thick white cast around your wrist and arm. Shit, your fall really had done a number on you. You were struggling with juggling your books and they fell off your desk with a clatter, and you thanked the girl next to you for helping you pick them up. 
Eddie would like to think he was above eavesdropping and gossip, but he’d be wrong. 
“What happened?” The girl- Sarah- asked. 
“I face planted on the bleachers at the pep rally.” you said, taking your seat again. “One minute I was trying to get down, and the next I’m getting elbowed and my arm hurt.” 
“I heard someone pushed you” 
Eddie heard that emphasis on someone and gripped his pencil, hearing the subtle sound of wood splintering against his thumb. This was not the time to make a scene. 
“No one pushed me. Miles elbowed me and I fell.” you said firmly. 
You were still defending him, Eddie wasn’t sure how to feel. 
“If you’re gonna spread rumors, could you do me a favor and make it sound more interesting?” You continued, “Like, start telling people that I dived off the bleachers to distract everyone that Miles shit himself.”
Eddie snorted loudly before he could stop himself. He slammed his hand pencil down on the table and covered his mouth. Dammit, why did you have to be funny?
Sarah laughed, much less obnoxiously and agreed before asking to sign your cast. You must be covered in signatures now, as you seemed to be friends with everyone. 
Everyone except him. 
Not that it mattered. 
It was nice and all that you saved him from getting in trouble, but it’s not like you two were ever going to be friends, no matter how funny you were. 
Class started and Eddie spent the rest of class doodling and barely paying attention to the teacher. This was usually how his school days went. Yeah, he had been trying harder in the past two years to graduate and pass his classes but some days his brain just refused to focus on anything important. 
The bell rang and Eddie took his sweet time getting his things together. Next period was his favorite- lunch. 
“Shit.” He heard you mumble as you tried to wrangle your books with one arm. He knew there was a rule about not being allowed to carry around a backpack but, shit, Eddie would have thought you’d get some help. Shouldn’t one of those many signatures be offering to carry your books? 
Obviously not, as you finally managed to tuck your notebook under your arm. You looked flustered, and hot in the face. Your brows were furrowed in concentration and you finally let out a loud groan as your papers went flying everywhere as students for the next class started coming in. 
It was pathetic, and Eddie couldn’t exactly leave you stranded. You cleared his name, so at least he could try and help you out right now. Maybe he’d even figure out what your problem with him was. 
“Here.” Eddie said and grabbed the papers closest to him and picked up your binder before you could stop him. 
Normally when Eddie looked at you, you’d turn your nose up at him and look away. This time, he found himself giving you direct eye contact. Your eyes were wide with surprise that he had stepped in to help, followed by more frustration. 
“Thanks.” you said shortly. 
“Need help getting to the lunch room?” Eddie asked. He’d wait for you to say no, to tell him to get out of your face, and he can walk away with a clear conscience that at least he tried. 
You were staring at him as if he were some sort of alien who had just asked you why the sky wasn’t orange. Yeah ok, he could take the hint. 
“Yes.” 
The word sounded choked out, as if the single syllable was a struggle to say. But you had said it, and Eddie was a man of his word, even though he hadn’t promised you anything. 
Eddie stacked your notebook and binder on top of his. You were still staring at him as if you couldn’t believe he was talking to you. Eddie couldn’t really believe it himself. 
He’d do this small favor for you as a thanks, and then you two could go back to ignoring each other. 
“Lead the way.” He said, offering up his best impression of his dad’s smile. If he was lucky (which Eddie never was) then maybe some of his dad’s Munson Magic might rub off on him enough so that you’d at least relax a little. 
You only nodded and led him out of the classroom. 
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You didn’t like the cast and it’s off-putting stark white bandages. You wanted to choose a different color- maybe red or black or even that weird obnoxious toxic green that was offered to you. But your mom decided that white would be better because it would make it easier to sign, so white it was. 
Your parents at least took pity on you Monday, letting you stay home to wallow in embarrassment that you had broken your wrist and fractured your arm in front of all of your classmates. Tuesday they released you back to school, but you had instead skipped getting on the bus (because you could not drive one-handed) and played hooky at the local library. It’s not like anyone would care that someone your age was skipping school. 
Wednesday came, and you forced yourself onto the bus, the first time you had used it since moving to Hawkins. The ride was bumpy and long, and your walkman ran out of batteries halfway to school. 
It wasn’t as bad as you thought it would be. A few people came up and signed your cast, some asking what happened. You just told them the same thing, that Miles elbowed you and you fell. It wasn’t as exciting as the idea of the school Freak attacking you, but you weren’t about to get Eddie involved in something that he had nothing to do with. You were just going to ignore the fact that Eddie had been the reason you were heading in that direction anyway. 
English class rolled around, and you spent most of it poking the inside of your cast with your pencil, trying to scratch an itch that just wouldn’t go away. It was bad enough that you had fucked up your dominant arm, but this was actually Hell. 
When the bell rang, everyone else seemed to be in a huge rush to get out of the classroom. Everyone but Eddie. Obviously. Because of course the one person you were trying to avoid was now slinking around you. 
Your long weekend, you had done your best to try and not think about him. You could handle falling in front of everyone else in school, but with Eddie it was different. Your stomach twisted as you remembered how he had yelled as you fell next to him and how he had looked at you as you had ignored your stinging arm as you ran out of the gym to clear his name. 
It was bad enough he had heard you make a poor joke out of context, you weren’t going to throw him under the bus either. 
“Need help getting to the lunch room?”
Your face was already hot with the embarrassment of not being able to carry your own books. Your backpack had ripped the second you got off the bus, and you lost your math homework to a puddle. You hated that he was still here to begin with, was breaking your wrist already not enough pain and suffering? 
You were staring at him. Fuck- dammit- shit say something back-
“Yes.” 
The word almost got stuck in your throat. The only reason it came out was that as painful and embarrassing as this moment was, what Stacy would do to you if she found out you said no would be far worse. 
Eddie dropped your books on top of his, and gave you a smile that looked so forced that you couldn’t stand to look at him. Was this being done just out of pity? You’d run for the hills if he wasn’t holding you binder hostage. 
You led him through the hallway, and towards your locker. “I need to put some things up.” you said, and he followed you. 
The hallway was already mostly clear, and so no one seemed to pay you much mind. You weren’t sure what the rumor mill would churn out with Eddie carrying your books, but did it even matter? Two more months and you’d be out of this school and none of these people would matter. 
No one except the young man following behind you. 
Eddie dutifully held your books as you put them away. The door to your locker stopped you from seeing his face, which seemed like the perfect time to take the foot out of your mouth that had been there since the pep rally. 
“...I’m... uh... I’m sorry for what I said on Friday.” you started, pretending to rifle through a folder. “About you being in a cult. It was a stupid joke and I shouldn’t have said it.”
Eddie was quiet for a moment, and you felt your whole body tense up as you waited for him to say anything. 
“Yeah we uh.. We aren’t big on sacrificing in Hellfire.” he said carefully. “Had to stop that with the club budget cuts.” 
You had to bite the inside of your cheek and close your eyes tight to keep from laughing. You covered it up with a cough. “Yeah uh... sounds like that’d be a lot of paperwork.” 
You took a slow and deep breath before closing your locker to look at him. He was smiling at you, a far less forced one than before. It was almost the same smile he gave his friends when he didn’t know you were looking. 
It wasn’t much, but it didn’t stop the butterflies from exploding in your chest. You should see a doctor about that. 
“Oh yeah, tons.” Eddie said. “And with all the letters we get about our club being associated with the Devil it was just a bureaucratic headache.”
I know that if I could just talk to him one then I’d be fine. You had told yourself that every single day since these pesky little feelings emerged. Maybe you had been right. The two of you made your way to the cafeteria. 
“You’re just some nerds playing with dice.” you said, and realize that could be taken the wrong way. “Not that there’s anything wrong with that. I’ve also... played board games.” 
God you were acting like a total airhead. Board games? Really? You were acting like your brain was broken rather than your wrist. 
You felt Eddie’s eyes on you, and saw how he also looked unsure about your answer. Whatever was going through his head, he brushed aside. 
“I should also thank you for clearing my name.” he said, changing the subject. “You came running out of the gym and saved my ass.” 
“I wasn’t going to let someone get in trouble just because I fell!” It was the most assured thing you had ever said to Eddie.
“Well, either way I’d say you’re my hero.” Eddie said. “I’m pretty sure if you hadn’t come running to my rescue I’d probably be expelled by now, and then who would be around to corrupt the youth of Hawkins?” 
Hero. Eddie called you his hero. You felt your body buzzing with an energy that you were not in a place to use. 
You two were in the cafeteria now, and you led Eddie over to where Stacy was sitting. Stacy, being the queen of subtlety that she was, was openly gawking at the sight of the two of you together. 
She was giving you a look, and that look said that the second that Eddie was out of earshot you would be giving her a play by play of every single second of this interaction. 
Eddie dropped your books on the table by Stacy.
“Hi, Eddie!” she said in a perky voice. You wanted to kick her, and shot her a warning look which she ignored. “Will you be dining with us today?” 
You wanted to rip your hair out. 
“As much as I would love to spend my lunch period with you two ladies, I’m afraid my freshmen wouldn’t survive out there in the wild without me.” Eddie gave a dramatic bow. 
“Thank you. For helping me.” you said stiffly. Being on the receiving end of Eddie’s theatrics was making your brain blow a fuse. 
Eddie gave you a nod and sauntered off to his usual table where he was immediately hounded by his friends for being seen with you. You wondered what they were thinking. Did you look weird next to Eddie? Were they judging you for not being part of their group?
“Stop drooling.” Stacy said. “Talk.”
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I have never broken a bone and have done minimal googling.
Also these chapters are getting longer dammit. This is supposed to be the easy stuff to wright UGH. Also tell me if there's something you wanna see with this, because I'm winging it like I do with all my writing lol
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@sheneedsrocknroll92 @cyanfairywren @crocworkships @tomtomslongdong @aphrogeneias
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@veemoon @mrsrdlw @eddieheart @bambibiest @mylovelycrazyworld
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maidservant-hecubus · 5 months ago
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My father is an Ashkenazi Jew. His parents were first generation Americans. Their parents escaped the pogroms in Russia and Ukraine and came to find their American dream. They fought in wars and opened businesses and assimilated and my generation barely has a few words of Yiddish between us. My mother is as much of a WASP as it gets. American Revolutionaries and Signers and some household name civil war feature players. Not old money, but old America and undoubtedly white. I'm patrilineal. Not a Jew to a lot of Jews. Not a Jew to a lot of my Jewish family. Even though i was raised Jewish. Even though I look like my father. Even though i got enough of something in my DNA to get asked "What are you?" more often than not. More often than I'm just accepted at face value as "white". When i was little we lived in an Irish Catholic neighborhood. Like the 5-10 kids in every family sort of Irish catholic neighborhood. The kids calling me a christ killer and refusing to play with me because they heard it from their parents sort of irish catholic neighborhood. For some reason my parents tried to send me to the catholic school down the street. I lasted less than a week because i didn't understand their rituals and their language and they found out my father was a Jew and they couldn't have a christ killer in their midst. I was just sad i didn't get to wear the cute plaid skirt anymore. So i went to the public school and my well meaning shiksa mother who never converted but learned the Chanukah prayers and helped cook Seder dinners came to the school to teach the class about Chanukah. She taught them songs and all the kids got dreidels and had so much fun spinning the top for chocolate coins. It was nice to feel normal. A few weeks later a boy in a higher grade attacked me on the way to the bus and smashed my art project (we had made pig noses from solo cups to celebrate reading charlotte's web) into my face and called me a filthy jew. I didn't understand, i was more upset to lose the project i was so proud of. Other things happened. Things I wont talk about because putting them in context would doxx me. But a million reminders that i wasn't one of them. I wasn't welcome because i was Jewish. My parents divorced. My mother left. Far away so I'd only see her a handful of times growing up. And I went to live with my Dad in a city that seemed like it was overflowing with Jews. Everyone knew my holidays! In public school the teachers looked like my family and had familiar sounding names. We had the high holy days off just like christmas or easter. We sang Chanukah songs in the winter recital and nobody's mom had to come teach them to the class. Finally I belonged! My friends and cousins started planning for their b mitzvah celebrations and i asked for my own. I asked to go to hebrew school so i could be more like the people i belonged with and celebrate the things i loved about myself and them. "But you're not jewish." My father would say. This was news to me. The christ killer. The filthy jew. But a 10 year old has little power over their lives. So i didn't go. I didn't have a bat mitzva while my cousins had theirs. It was okay because i still belonged more than i ever had. But i was still jewish enough to keep the holidays and pray and fast and get sent with a box of matzo to my WASP grandmothers for easter, and have matzo packed in my lunch to eat in AP algebra in 7th grade and get asked if I'm a "Yid" by the teacher. And still to this day not know if it was endearment or insult but by then I knew even in this magical city being a Jew wasn't always safe. in highschool I tried to take hebrew lessons with a friend in a similar situation as me. She was also hungry to reconnect. I don't remember why the classes or the friendship fell through, but they did. My next "friend", a goy raised catholic from another neighborhood, liked to accuse me of being money driven when i picked up a penny on the sidewalk or tried to ask who was going to pay for the zine's she wanted to publish.
 "What are you?" I'd get asked a lot on the street by curious strangers, "Where are you from?" "Are you Italian?" Always Italian. I never really understood that, but its become code in my head for "You look like you're white but something about you is very not white and I just can't place it, so Italian seems safe and polite." I'm not here to unpack the Italian part of all that. I don't even know what I'm unpacking for myself by writing this except I've been sick for days and I'm so tired and this is all that my foggy brain can wrap itself around. Later I'm an adult and on my own and getting bloodwork done. The Nurse is a black woman and so sweet to me. She can tell I'm nervous about the needles because I've already stumbled through my apologies for my herd to find veins. So she distracts me with small talk. Where do i live? I tell her. She looks worried for me. Tells me that it used to be a nice neighborhood before white people took it over and she warns me like she's my own mother to be careful because they aren't safe. I doublecheck the skin she's putting a needle into. Whatever she sees isn't white. I love her for it. For a moment I belong there with her. She doesn't ask what I am or where i'm from, but she knows what i'm not. I'm the only one keeping the holidays with my family. We celebrate Passover because I go home to my fathers and cook the dinner and print out the Haggadah and lead the Seder to the tune of my drunk catholic stepmother eating my food and telling me i'll never be a jew. She's more of a jew than I'll ever be because she grew up in a jewish neighborhood and her friends were all jews and she married a jew and i was just playing pretend. I stopped going home for holidays and they stopped observing anything except Christmas. I marry a goy. "Is he a jew?" is the first thing my father asks and he's disappointed when i say no. He's abusive, i run. I end up living in the attic of this older old money WASP couple who need a live in house sitter. They're pillars of their church and they know someone from the WASP side of my family very well and its a funny coincidence and they think i belong there. I know from their divest from Israel bumper stickers that i don't. Then they find out I consider myself Jewish and i see the light in their eyes die and its replaced by something hard and disappointed. Now, while writing this, i can laugh about being the jew in someone's attic. But then, it was only a few months after that they started coming up with excuses for why I needed to move out. I did, their excuses never manifested into reality. I got married again. A jew this time! a Jewish medical professional liek grandma always wanted. She's a convert and her ex was a rabbinical student. I think maybe i'm home finally. She has to understand. I'm not Jewish enough for her. We don't keep holidays at home because i'm not a jew. I cry every year when pesach comes and goes and i haven't recited the plagues or eaten matzo piled high with horseradish. She insists on putting up a christmas tree. She turns abusive. I run.
I'm alone now and no longer in that magic jewish city. I'm far away and surrounded by mega churches and cows and the bagels suck and people quote the bible at me like some call and response that i don't have the cheat code for and I don't belong here at all but i'm finally finally free to light my menorah and recite the plagues and study torah with the group i found here on tumblr who love and accept me even though i'm patrilineal. Oct. 7th happened a few weeks after I moved here. I worry about my family back home and i think no one will look for Jews here among the cows and mega churches, so I can be a safe place for them to run if things get bad again. But i still don't fit in here. I don't look right. The last name I have now is common here and too white for whatever people see when they look in my face. I get interrogated about it a lot. But i learned quickly how to smile and say "have a blessed day". I hide my menorah when maintenance comes to work on my apartment. I flew home last month. Just for a visit. I've never been away from home this far or this long. And I'm the type that covers nerves and anxiety with chattiness, so at the airport i made a for-now-friend while we both waited for the plane to board. She's Puerto Rican. We talk about our lives. Our families. Her twin sister and i go by the same nickname and so we're family now. We talk about food. So much food and how much we love cooking and how important food was at home. "Are you Italian?" she asks as we're stepping through the hatch into the plane. Why always Italian? I wonder for the millionth time in my life. And I freeze up for a moment between fighting my carry-on over the gap and terror that I'm about to see the light go out behind her eyes and i'll lose this for-now friend. "No," i laugh but its not a real laugh and i see the concern in her face as we squeeze through the aisle because she can hear the apprehension in my voice, "I'm Jewish." And something strange happened because her face lit up and she smiled and said "No way?! You guys have GREAT food!"
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anakinstwinklebunny · 2 months ago
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older sugar daddy!anakin who's paying for your postgrad, just cuddles you after a long day of studying 😩
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TW: none really, just fluff and soft praises cause bunny loves dilf!ani :3
Author's note: I love you, give me more..let your fantasy free. Also, today's my birthday, when it's posted, I'm sleeping (thanks to the queue). But I want to thank YOU for this year. In September, I celebrated without all you knowing probably, my one year on this app. One year. Year ago, I'd not even imagine that one of my dreams would come true - to post MY work, something people will enjoy..you guys made it real and for that I thank you so much! Hugging all 622 of you!!! <3333333
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It had been one of those days where nothing seemed to go right. Your brain was fried from the constant cycle of lectures, readings, and assignments. The textbooks in front of you blurred whenever you tried to focus on yet another chapter of dense material, so it was no use.
You felt drained—mentally and emotionally. All you wanted to do was crawl into bed and forget about postgrad for a little while.
The soft click of the apartment door opening snapped you out of your haze. You heard the familiar shuffle of Anakin’s shoes being kicked off, his expensive, cashmere-wool blend coat draped over the chair. Before you even had the chance to look up from your mountain of notes, he was beside you, his presence filling the room with warmth and comfort you so much craved at the moment
"Hey," he greeted quietly, his deep voice gently vibrating in your ear. He could immediately sense the tension around you, see the exhaustion written all over your profile side. Without asking, he leaned down to kiss your burning temple that was heated up from way too much information for one day
Not taking your tired eyes from the whatever you were trying to focus on, your nostrils could pick up the familiar scent of him—clean, warm, with a hint of vanilla and cinnamon
Dear heavens..
"Long day?" he asked softly, his large hand coming to rest on your shoulder, thumb gently brushing the back of your neck. You closed your eyes at the contact - it felt so good, to just being able to feel the all the stress and tension slowly melt down your spine
Well, Anakin's hands were magic. In every way. They could tear you apart, pull you back together and make you beg for more. Yet today, you were way too tired to beg him to do anything
"You have no idea," you sighed, your voice barely above a whisper as you leaned into his touch. “It feels like this coursework is never-ending.”
Anakin’s lips curled into a soft, understanding smile as he tilted his head, studying your tired expression. "You’ve been at it for hours. I can tell." He glanced at the textbooks, notebooks, and laptop scattered around you. It was impressive, to say the least, but even him knew you needed to slow down "You need a break."
Before you could protest, Anakin was already moving. He gently closed your laptop, setting it aside along with your textbooks, making sure they were out of reach so you wouldn’t be tempted to keep working. At first it brought you a quicker heartbeat, to see him just so casually act like it when you still had so much to do “Come here,” he murmured, reaching out to you. "You’ve done enough for today."
Yet, you didn’t hesitate. As tired as you were, the moment he opened his arms, you were drawn to him like a magnet. You slid into his embrace, sinking into his broad chest as he wrapped you up in the warmth of his body.
Your cheek pressed against the soft fabric of his sweater, and you could feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your ear. It was grounding, a gentle reminder that you weren’t alone in all of this. He was here, as he always was, making everything seem a little less overwhelming.
“You’re working too hard, sweetheart,” he whispered, his voice tender as he massaged your scalp before gently threaded his long fingers through your hair, brushing it away from your face. "You need to rest."
You sighed, sinking further into his embrace. Dammit, if he keeps it up, you'll fall asleep "I just want to get through this semester." you confessed
Anakin pressed a gentle kiss to the top of your head before his hand moved to caress your back “And you will. You always do.” His voice was filled with quiet confidence, the kind of unwavering belief in you that never failed to make your heart swell.
“You’ve been taking care of everything else,” Anakin murmured after a long moment of quietness, his voice a soft rumble in your ear. “Now let me take care of you.”
You felt a lump form in your throat, overwhelmed by how much his simple presence soothed you. He always knew when to step in, offering comfort without needing to ask for anything in return. It wasn’t about money or gifts—this, right here, was what made him your anchor. The way he could make you feel safe and cherished, no matter how heavy the world felt on your shoulders.
"Thank you," you whispered, your voice muffled against his chest. You pressed your face further into him, breathing him in, the scent of him calming your racing thoughts. "I don’t know what I’d do without you."
"You’ll never have to find out," he replied softly, kissing the top of your head. "I’ve got you."
You shifted slightly, your legs curling up as you snuggled deeper into him, finding the perfect spot in his lap. His hand gently cradled the back of your head, fingers sliding through your hair with a touch so tender it made your heart flutter.
"I’m not letting you out of my sight for the rest of the night."
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cbartonscoffee · 8 months ago
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I think I've never been more aware of just how many people only get their info of the batfam through fanfic. I finally started reading Red Robin (2009) and I can not believe how many things are blown out of proportion. Particularly about Dick and Damian.
First of all, Dick does try to put limits and he does get fed up with Damian's ways sometimes. Out of the three first interactions of them in the comic, at least in two he tells him to shut up. And one of those is when Damian starts to brag about being Robin and Tim being useless, he tells him to shut up twice.
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Another thing about that moment, is that they treat it like Dick completely dismisses Tim and treats him as unimportant. He doesn't. He takes him seriously, he tells him he needs him, he tells him he views his as an equal, as someone capable. And he also tells him he's concerned about him and that he needs to start processing Bruce's death. Could that have been a little harsh? Yes, but he needed to do it without making Tim think there was room for him to be convinced about his theory because let's be honest, Tim would've taken anything less than complete refusal and tried to change his mind. And had he been wrong neither of them could have taken it.
Secondly, Dick is always left to shoulder the blame of kicking Tim out and of never reaching out. That's bull. And I need to make that clear. Tim was in a delicate point, he tells us this himself multiple times, but the decision to leave was completely made out of his own free will. Another thing he did was put space between him and the people on Gotham. We see only one time in which Dick tries to call him. Tim picks up and tells him he doesn't want to talk. This tells us that Dick respecting Tim's wish of space included almost no (or even no) contact, and Dick calling was not something Tim appreciated or encouraged.
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Now. Going into the second year of the run, when he's back in Gotham, there's a few things to talk about and I'm still in the aftermath of Damian and Tim's fight.
I feel it's important to say that even if they are all family, more often than not they're doing their own thing. Like, Babs and Steph are in the Batcave while Dick and Damian are in Wayne Tower, Cass is said to potentially be in Hong Kong and we haven't even heard Jason be name-dropped except for the fact that he went on a rampage at some point.
So, Dick is immediately called away in League business. So he isn't there. Damian is behaving fairly civil besides being a brat, so no one wastes too much effort in correcting what he says. We need to think about the fact that this is a kid whose world was turned upside down multiple times in a short period of time, who has a need to be accepted, and who hasn't yet found his place. All this is to say, that if it's difficult to get him to eat breakfast there's no way they're controlling his every move and that's understandable.
So Dick is away, Damian is still trying to adapt, Alfred has his hands full and everyone else is doing something else.
The whole thing starts because Tim is being kind of cryptic about what he's doing with his hit list and Damian feels left out and goes looking for more. He finds his name in a hidden double side of the hit list marking him as a threat. He understandably feels hurt and angry, because he's a kid, and he's trying, and his predecessor who at this point doesn't even try with him anymore views him as something bad.
So in classic Damian fashion, he falls back on his upbringing and doesn't deal with the situation as one should, talking about it. Instead he cuts team line, hurting before being hurt. It could've been worse, we see in the panel that Tim doesn't have that much of a hard time getting safely to the ground. The problem is that he snaps and starts a full-blown fight he knows Damian won't back out off. (I'm pleased to add that after cutting his line Damian doesn't start anything else)
So they are fighting, Tim has the clear advantage and he knows this, we know this. And that's how Dick finds them. Having just returned from a JL mission, in the place where the Waynes were murdered, with Tim having overpowered Damian.
They go back to the cave and Damian shares his findings, and Dick understands. And Tim tells him he (Dick) knows why he (Tim) did it. Dick agrees, and tells him he should have tried to make it harder to find. Tim says he hadn't thought Damian would try or even care. Dick tells him Damian wants to be accepted.
All in all, so far the only thing this comic has proven to me is that there's a reason comics are the bomb and that fanon has gotten out of hand. I get making things out to be worse for the sake of a story, but everything surrounding these events is basically used as the foundation for Damian and Tim's relationship as well as Dick and Tim's and I don't think I've once read a fanfic where these events are portrayed correctly or even following the real motivations of the characters. This is a disservice to all of them and only serves to amplify the hate towards a character that doesn't deserve it. There's a lot of Damian hate going around. And it sucks. Mostly because people use his actions against Tim to justify it and honestly? I don't think you should be allowed to use that if you haven't read RR and understood what was going on.
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emchant3d · 6 months ago
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siren steve and pirate eddie, part 2 pt 1
Steve heals slowly.
He’s irritable and restless, bedridden, and he doesn’t have the strength in his injured tail to support himself if he were to be tossed back into the ocean.
The crew helps him to the deck for a change of scenery and some sunshine - he seems more settled when he can hear the waves and feel the sun on his skin. He’s less snappish, at least, those sharp teeth tucked away behind his pink lips instead of bared in Eddie’s direction.
Eddie had panicked briefly about how much saltwater Steve needs, and he’d rolled his eyes at him. “Keep it near and I’ll be fine,” he tells him. “Half human remember?”
“Yeah,” Eddie says, “but the fish part is looking a little dry, sweetheart.” 
Steve slaps him with a tail fin.
He finds himself spending most days with the Mer. Part of it is pure fascination - it’s difficult to not want to spend time around a story come to life. And if he neglects his duties as Captain a little, well - that’s what his crew is for.
Slowly, he pulls more from Steve. He finds out what caused his injuries - “the deep holds a lot of creatures that like the taste of Mer,” he tells him. “I swam right into a nest. By the time I realized, they already had me by the throat and were dragging me to the seabed.”
“Gods,” Eddie murmurs, and Steve hums in agreement. “Evil little things. Razor sharp claws and teeth, and their tails are like whips. They move in schools, so if there’s one, there’s dozens others.”
He speaks of these kinds of creatures so casually, monsters that have worked their way into human lore and others that are unknown to them, but the idea of them still makes Eddie’s skin crawl.
It’s like Steve has a sixth sense for his discomfort. He’s lounging in a long basin Freak and Jeff put together, a shallow amount of salt water in it to keep him comfortable, and he rolls his head to the side, peering up at Eddie.
“They probably wouldn’t turn down a human, either,” he muses, dragging those unnervingly deep eyes up and down him, “but your little lungs wouldn’t survive that deep down, so you’re probably fine.”
“Oh, fuck you,” Eddie snorts, and Steve breaks into a laugh.
As friendly as they’re becoming, Eddie knows Steve still doesn’t fully trust him. He’s excellent at reading people - he knows when someone is keeping secrets, and Steve is locked tight.
He doesn’t blame him. He knows it’s difficult to believe Eddie’s help doesn’t come with strings, and he catches Steve watching him and his crew sometimes, tense and on edge as if he’s waiting for someone to lash out at him.
Eddie hates it. But he doesn’t know how to settle him, not fully, and so maybe the solution is to craft those strings he’s looking so hard to find. Let him find what he’s looking for, but show him that they aren’t as bad as he’s built them up to be in that pretty head of his.
“So what other gifts are you blessed with, Highness?” he asks one cloudy day, the sky gloomy and overcast. A little rain won’t hurt them, but he’s hoping the darker clouds on the horizon will dissipate before they reach them and upend a true storm.
“Divination,” Steve says like he’s bored, and Eddie’s head whips around to stare at him. Steve holds his gaze, his own a little hooded, and he yawns softly.
“What,” Eddie asks flatly. Steve waves a hand dismissively. 
“Just about the ocean,” he says, like that isn’t still one of the most incredible things Eddie’s ever heard. “I can tell when danger’s near. When something isn’t quite right. Whole lot of good it did me,” he snorts, glancing down at his scarred torso.
The bandages have been removed, and pink skin is healing slowly where there used to be gaping wounds. His tail is faring much the same, scales missing from where he’d been bitten and ripped at, but the new flesh is beginning to blend in with the bright shades of his lower half.
“Everything was dangerous down there, I just tried to pick the safest option. I’m still pretty sure I chose right.” Eddie frowns. “You were almost eaten alive,” he says, can’t help it, and Steve cuts him a lazy smile.
“Almost,” he repeats, and Eddie supposes that’s an answer.
He takes a breath, calms his heart, and tries to act like the Captain he is. “So, if you stuck around, you’d be able to tell me what I’m heading towards.” Steve closes his eyes and lets his head hang back, arms resting on the sides of the basin. 
“Yes.” A cloud sweeps over them, blocking the sun from shining on Steve’s face, casting him in shadows. “I could tell you if you were sailing into an ambush, or if the waters were acting up, or any number of other useful little tips that could keep you and your crew alive.”
“You’ve thought about this,” he says, and Steve snorts.
“Of course I have. I have no home. No family. Going alone almost got me killed. I’m pretty but I’m not dumb, Eddie.” He opens his eyes, fixing his gaze onto Eddie’s. “So how about we make a deal?” he offers, and Eddie grins.
It’s an easy negotiation. Steve wants freedom. He wants to see the world. And he wants safety while he does it. Eddie wants an advantage, wants to keep his crew safe, wants them to thrive in this difficult life they’ve chosen.
They shake on it. Steve moves lightning fast as their hands meet, a sharp claw nicking his own palm and then Eddie’s, making him hiss.
“Fuck–” he grunts. A burning sensation shoots through him from hand to chest, fire hot and searing. He gasps, fingers locked around Steve’s, who stares at him impassively. “What…?”
“You’ve made an oath with a Mer,” Steve says simply. “You’ll be held to your word, Captain Munson.”
Eddie pulls his hand away and looks at his palm. 
A black mark surrounds the cut from Steve’s claw, a swirling spiral that snakes from the center of his palm in three little loops. Steve holds his hand out without being asked, showing the matching mark on his own skin.
Eddie’s no stranger to ink and tattoos, but this is decidedly different. It hums with an ancient kind of magic, a connection that he doesn’t - can’t - understand. Something unnameable settles into his bones.
This is a test, he realizes. Or maybe it’s insurance. Either way, it’s something Steve felt necessary to take Eddie at his word, and so he won’t ask questions - not yet, at least.
“Well, I’ve had worse deals, I guess,” he says, and when he meets Steve’s eyes again, some of the caution has seeped out of them. 
Eddie’s sure there’s more to be found out about this creature in front of him, but contrary to popular belief, he can be patient when it counts. 
For now he’ll take what he’s offered - a wary friendship. A slow-growing understanding. And a certain type of care, of gentleness, that curls warm within him and grows with every smile and soft look that Steve throws his way.
part 3 coming soon 💕 no tag lists, sorry!
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munsonfamilyband · 2 years ago
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I’ve been on a Soulmates kick today and just saw a fic where Steve has two marks - one for Robin and one for Eddie. And it’s got me thinking.
Of course, he doesn’t know who his marks are for. He only knows that they’re two people because they look so different. Soulmarks show up where you and your soulmate will have the first skin-skin contact, and they have the words they will say when that happens written in their handwriting.
Steve has one covering his palm, the handwriting is small and sharp, all angles and no rounded edges. That one says “Steve, we need to run”. It seems scared, the wording, but he refuses to think about it. The other mark he has is covering his left hip, curling like someone was holding him from the side. This handwriting is completely different from the other one and is best described as chicken scratch. It’s big and messy, letters flowing into each other like the writer didn’t even pick up their pen between each stroke. That one says “I got you, just lean on me”. It seems less scared but there’s concern laced in the words that helps Steve feel less alone when he’s laying in bed late at night. That’s the only time he ever lets himself think about his soulmates, during the day he avoids it like the plague. His parents are soulmates and they barely speak, so soulmates can’t be all they’re cracked up to be. After Nancy never makes one of his marks tingle and burn he tries to give up on the idea entirely, figuring he can go on without a soulmate and be with Nancy - but then she breaks his heart and those late nights are all he has.
His first soulmark changes when he’s stuck underneath Starcourt mall the summer after he graduated. He had been working with a girl, Robin, who barely tolerated him on a good day and now she’s been sucked into his shitty world. When the alarms go off in the bunker he barely has a second to react before Robin is grabbing his hand and yelling at him, “Steve, we need to run!” His feet start moving and he yells back for her to be careful with his arm, even as he feels the tingling burn cover his palm and in that supply closet, leaning against the door next to Robin they make eye contact. In that short second of connection he knows that she felt it to, that he’s just found his soulmate and despite his fear he’s so happy that it’s her. Later, after they had both puked up their guts and he had confessed to having a crush on her, Robin told him about Mrs. Click’s class and Tammy Thompson and how she’s sorry that he’s stuck with a soulmate who can never love him back. Steve blinks and suddenly his two soulmarks make so much more sense.
“Robin, I have another soulmark. I don’t… I don’t think you were ever a romantic soulmate for me.” He watches the relief and, maybe even, joy cover her face and she launches herself at him in a hug, squeezing him tight and he returns the favor completely ignoring his own pain.
The other soulmate comes over 8 months after meeting Robin. He was so grateful for having her in his life but he still wanted that other piece, he loved Robin and she loved him but he wanted romantic love too. Unfortunately for Steve, just like with Robin, his other soulmark was triggered when he was fearing for his life. He had just been dragged through Watergate and made into a chew toy for a bunch of demobats. Steve was just trying to catch his breath when they all heard the bigger hoard approaching and he knew he had to run. He made it surprisingly far before the pain of each step started to settle in, his feet dragging more and more and his pace slowing when someone moved in beside him, wrapping one arm around his back to settle his hand on his hip. Eddie grabbed the arm closest to him and dragged it over his shoulders, giving Steve a grin. “I got you, you can lean on me.” This only made Steve completely trip; the sudden onset of tingling burning at his side so close to his currently bleeding wounds had his left leg collapsing under his weight.
“Why does this always happen when I’m in danger?” Eddie froze and then a laugh burst forward.
“That makes so much sense with context. C’mon let’s get you somewhere to sit and we can talk more when you’re not bleeding over me.”
When he and Eddie got to Skull Rock, he and Robin made eye contact and he watched her eyes flit down to where Eddie’s hand was on his side. Her eyes grew about three sizes and he just shot her the best grin he could. He didn’t care that he had been bleeding all over his soulmate for the past few minutes - he had gotten blood on Robin when they found out that they were soulmates, so it seemed fitting for him to be doing the same to Eddie.
Years down the road he would look back and laugh at the drama surrounding him finding both of his soulmates. Eddie even joked that the universe gave him two to make up for his shitty parents, and Steve wasn’t going to argue.
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kelstey · 10 months ago
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who did this to you?
mattheo riddle x reader
warnings : domestic abuse, mentions of disordered eating, toxic relationship (not with mattheo)
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❃゜・。. ・°゜✼ ゜°・ . 。・゜❃
"gosh, will you hurry up?" cormac paced back and forth in your dorm as you were getting ready.
"i'm trying," you said trying to control your tears. you quickly set your foundation which was heavily packed on, covering the yellowing bruise underneath.
"fucking finally," he groaned. you got up and placed your robe on before the two of you walked down to the great hall for breakfast. thankfully it was the weekend so you could avoid as many people as possible.
you had tried getting out of the relationship, but he always gaslit and guilt tripped you into coming back. cormac had essentially isolated you from 90% of your friends and anyone you ever came into contact with.
he knew what he was doing, he was limiting your options of people to go to by making you out to be a bad person when you were secretly getting abused physically and mentally by cormac.
at first, he was the sweetest boy you had ever met. you thought you had met the love of your life - the man you would marry. you were terribly
wrong.
as soon as he had you wrapped around his finger, he switched. he constantly picked apart your appearance, belittling you and leaving you with minimal confidence.
he once accidentally slapped you during an argument, he told you he would never do it again. he lied.
at first your friends were concerned, they tried helping you, but cormac threatened you that if you told them, he'd hurt you. you were already hurting enough and you didn't think it was worth the risk.
soon rumours made their way around school that you talked shit about your friends, leading many of your friendships to end. you didn't know it was cormac who has behind all of it.
you spotted matthe staring at you already as you walked into the hall. you absolutely hated him - not for anything in particular, the two of you just never got along and have disliked each other since.
you sat down next to cormac as usual. a plate appeared in front of you, and you began to put bits of breakfast onto the plate. "remember to watch what you eat," he dug a hand into your thigh which caused you to lightly whimper as his nails etched into your skin.
"yes," you looked down at the plate, hardly enough for a baby yet alone a growing teenage girl. you began eating some fruit - filling yet good and cormac always appreciated you eating
'healthy' even though you couldn't give a fuck less what he liked, you would eat whatever when you were alone without him.
you finished and gazed around the hall, your eyes landing onto mattheos again. you sent him daggers, and he rolled his eyes before speaking to his friends.
"i need to go to the bathroom," you leaned into cormac's side. he nodded and you left the hall.
you walked down the hall and to the girl's bathroom, you looked into the mirror, noticing your makeup was slightly smudged and you could see the bruising.
"shit," you panicked, you looked through your bag for some powder and concealer, oblivious to mattheo who just entered the bathroom.
"who did this to you?" you heard a voice say and you jumped, dropping your concealer.
"fucking hell mattheo, do you know how expensive that shit is?" you picked up the concealer, forgetting momentarily about the clear bruise on your face.
"answer the question. who did this to you?" he took a step closer to you.
"no one," you said, it was hardly above a whisper though. you could feel tears well up in your eyes as mattheo observed your face.
"i'll fucking kill him," without a second to spare mattheo turned around and made his way back to the hall.
you followed, quick on his trail. "mattheo, please, don't," you tried to grab onto his arm.
"no - he fucking hurt you! why should he get away with that?!" mattheo was clearly angry, both at himself and cormac.
you didn't say anything and let go of his arm, looking down at the ground. you wanted mattheo to batter the shit out of cormac, but some part of you didn't want to see the guy you were dating get punched to death.
"i'll keep you safe," mattheo's hand reached for your chin, pushing it up slightly so you were looking up at him. "i won't let anyone ever hurt you again."
❃゜・。. ・°゜✼ ゜°・ . 。・゜❃
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ohthewh0rror · 1 year ago
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WE ABOUT TO KISS RIGHT NOW?
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˚₊ ⋆ ☠︎︎ ⋆ ₊˚ prompt — Just some tidbits of fluff for whichever slytherin boy you pick. You’ve got three choices: Mattheo (the childish one), Tom (who has never felt the touch of a woman), or maybe Theo (resident lover boy).
Pairing: Tom Riddle x Reader / Mattheo x Reader / Theo x Reader
Word Count: 848
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Tom R.
Truthfully, the sight was mildly unsettling. Tom was a very composed individual, never a hair out of place and always impeccably dressed. So seeing him now, as he sat in the furthest corner of the shop where he worked, his elbows resting on his knees as he rested his head in his hands was…concerning. His slender, pale fingers slid up to his dark curls and gripped his hair at the root.
Tom, who seemed untouchable and almost god-like, suddenly looked human. It was the first time you had ever seen Tom display a genuine emotion, his usual facade slipping away. You weren’t sure what to do, as your friendship was fairly new. You weren’t sure how he was going to respond to your attempt at comforting him, but you figured that as long as you left here in one piece, you’d count it as a win.
You placed a gentle hand on his knee, and took in a breath to steady your nerves before you decided to speak. “We don’t have to talk, I just wanted to let you know that I’m here…in case you do want to.” It was another few seconds of silence before Tom sat up and one of the hands that was once holding his head up came to rest on top of your’s. As his fingers curled around your hand, you saw the ghost of a smile on his face, and a look of mild appreciation in his eyes.
Bringing your hand up to his lips, he placed a loving kiss on your palm, before getting out of his seat without a word, leaving you awestruck in the back of the desolate store.
Mattheo R.
"Hey, there's something on your lips?" Mattheo gestured to your mouth, there was a smirk on his face, the same one he gets when he’s trying to mess with you. You were skeptical, not knowing if you should trust him, but you didn’t want to continue walking around with something on your lips either just in case he was being honest. “Really?” Your hand came up, fingers about to swipe whatever was there off, when Mattheo caught your wrist. “What are you—” your question was cut off as Mattheo’s lips connected with yours.
The kiss was short and sweet, almost a peck, leaving you secretly wanting more from him. Mattheo pulled away slightly, eyeing your lips, “I think it’s still there,” he mumbled. You couldn’t help the giggle that escaped you, feeling your face grow hot. You playfully shoved him away from you, trying to put some space between you in hopes of gathering what little self control you had in you to resist the urge to kiss him again.
“I can't stand you,” was all you said as you attempted to get away from the flirt you called your boyfriend.
Theo N.
“Would it be weird if I kissed you? be honest,” was what Theo greeted you with as he came to stand next to you, a warm hand resting on your back. Though you tried to put on an annoyed front, you were glad he decided to come keep you company; even if it was to tease you. Everyone knew the crush you’ve had on him since 5th year, you were sure even Theo has figured it out by now. And, to be honest, it was almost embarrassing. You’d hoped after graduation your feelings would fade, as you’d see less of him, but the distance seems to have only made it worse.
“Honestly? yes,” it almost killed you to say that, but it was the truth. The two of you hadn’t seen each other in two months and you were also currently attending a charity gala. A kiss between two people who were not together, standing in the middle of an important event, would be all anyone talked about for the next few weeks. There was a pregnant pause, neither of you saying anything, Theo seemingly lost in thought as he stared at you.
“Hey, Y/N?” You heard Theo ask, trying to get your attention as you had looked away from him, trying to distract yourself from the pounding of your heart. You hummed in acknowledgement, and when Theo said nothing, you turned your head to look at him. Well, that was the plan anyway, but as you turned your head to face him Theo met you halfway.
You weren't sure what you thought your first kiss with Theo would be like, but even you could have never guessed it’d be so passionate. In the distance you could hear the flashing of a camera and rabid whispering, but you could care less.
You’ve been waiting for the moment for years, and you refuse to let anything ruin it.
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iheartcake123 · 6 months ago
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Hi , i have a request, I wanted to know if you could do a cha hyunsu x fem reader , where in season 1 , reader is pregnant but doesn’t get a chance to tell Hyun su , and in season 2 , reader and baby boy run into Hyun su and everyone at the hospital, so baby boy runs off after friend (monster) or something and Hyun su /monster form finds out about the tie son with reader 💕if so thank you so much I’ve been asking so many people😭💕
hello!! thank you for your request, it was really fun to write but im so sorry it took so long to write!!🫶 here’s the fic for you ( i also adjusted the timeline so that it makes more sense, so rather than it being less than a year time skip like the show, it’s now a 1 year and 6 month time skip) <3 i feel like this could have a part 2 but im unsure so lmk what you think!!!
cha hyun-su x f!reader for @dadyscumslutprincess20
warnings:none
Masterlist
you stared down at the pregnancy test in your hand, your breath shaking and your hands trembling. you were in complete disbelief. there was no way it was real. right?
with a gulp, you wrapped the pregnancy test in some tissue and shoved it into your pocket. you were trying to think about the timeline and ways to tell hyun-su specifically. after all, he deserved to know the most.
when was the best time to tell him? how would you bring it up? and how would he react? these were all the questions that ran through your mind.
as time went on at green home apartments, you tried to approach the topic when you were with hyun-su but each time for some reason you found yourself unable to do so. whether it be because of certain circumstances or whether it be because your words kept getting caught in your throat.
for some reason you were unable to tell him.
and then when you finally built up the courage to tell him, hyun-su had given himself up to the military.
after making it out safely from green home apartments, you separated from the rest of your friends and tried to look for hyun-su.
but as months passed, you began to lose hope. you also had other things to focus on. as your due date approached you hid out in an abandoned hospital. it was the best place to be as it was safe and convenient.
and soon enough you gave birth to a beautiful baby boy.
before you knew it, it had been over one and a half years since you’d last seen hyun-su. and your baby boy was now just over 10 months old. he was already starting to crawl and life keeping him hidden and safe was harder than ever since he’d always manage to crawl away when you least expected it.
the day started like usual. you woke up early, fed your son and began your daily tasks of making sure the abandoned hospital was as safe as it could be.
you carried your son on your hip as you made your way to the area you usually would sleep in. you were going to put your son down for a short nap, that was until you heard noises that sounded like feet.
you put your son down and drew out your gun. you checked the entire floor you were on just in case but there wasn’t anyone or anything that you could see. you let out a breath of relief when you didn’t find anything but when you went back to your sleeping area to check on your son, your heart dropped.
he was gone.
you began to panic.
maybe he’d just crawled somewhere?
you searched the entire floor again but he was no where to be found. you hurriedly rushed to the floor below. you cautiously looked around, you knew that sometimes start monsters would wander the halls.
your heart beat pounded in your chest. you could hear a baby cooing. you followed the sound and rushed to the room it sounded like it was coming from.
as soon as you entered the room, you saw some familiar faces.
you immediately recognised eun-yu and hyun-su. but you didn’t recognise the third person with them. on the floor nearby, there sat a small monster playing with your son.
“y/s/n!” you breathed a sigh of relief as you ran to pick up and cradle your child.
“y/n?you’re alive?” eun-yu couldn’t believe her eyes.
you let out a smile and nodded your head and she rushed to hug you.
“is he yours?” she then asked and you smiled as you handed him to her.
“meet y/s/n, my son” you whispered and she looked towards the guy you’d never met before.
“this is chan-young” eun-yu briefly mentioned and you sent him a smile.
your eyes then wandered to hyun-su. something about him was different, his eyes were a deep dark blue colour and his expression wasn’t one that you recognised. his whole demeanour had changed and yes, while you hadnt seen him im over a year, you still knew him.
you furrowed your eyebrows trying to figure out why he was so different and as soon as you saw him smirk, you instantly knew.
this was hyun-su’ monster form that was out.
“y/n” he eyes looked you up and down as he licked his lips.
“hyun-su” you swallowed hard as hyun-su then made his way towards you.
“have you missed me?” he tilted his head to the side and brought his hand up to brush a stray piece of hair out of your face.
“you’re not hyun-su” you brushed him off.
“but i am, i know all his thoughts, feelings and desires” he looked at your lips when he said the last part.
“leave her alone!” eun-yu suddenly snapped and you turned to her.
“it’s okay” you reassured her and gestured for her to go out the room with your son.
she soon left and chan-young followed.
“where’s hyun-su?” you turned to hyun-su’ vessel in front of you.
“it just hurts now y/n. i am hyun-su but, if you’re talking about our weak side then you should know he’s currently healing. if i didn’t take over he would’ve died so you should really thank me. you must know i can’t have him dying on me” he let out a scoff towards the end.
“when will the other hyun-su be back?” you questioned.
“not for a while..so let’s catch up. it seems that a lot has happened- you have a child. is it ours?”
“it’s hyun-su’ child’” you corrected him.
hyun-su’ monster form chuckled. he noticed all the little details. how you played with your sleeve when you were nervous and how you shifted your weight uncomfortably as you tried to avoid looking directly at him.
he was going to use it to his advantage.
“so, that baby is part mine too” he leaned close to your face and you felt your heart beat quicken “you know? i feel what hyun-su feels and more. tell me y/n, what do you want?”
you closed your eyes, skin tingling as you felt hyun-su’ breath on your skin because of how close he was.
“i-“ you began but were cut off when your son suddenly ran into the room.
in an instant you picked him up and he squirmed in your arms as he then tried to reach over to hyun-su.
you were hesitant but there was a slight glint in hyun-su’ eyes that seemed familiar so you handed the child over to him.
“and who might you be?” hyun-su’ tone changed as he tickled the little boy.
you raised an eyebrow, confused at how quickly hyun-au’ monster form was able to change his demeanour to resemble something similar to the original hyun-su.
maybe they weren’t so different after all.
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