#like. sure. they're only in one scene of one song.
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I kinda feel like Steve wasn't as popular as he's made out to be. Like, maybe he's got a bit of a reputation that proceeds him—ladies man, The Hair, and Steeevveee Harrington. He takes care of himself, takes care of his dates. The guys around him oversell his personality a lot, how many people he can get in bed with him, the way he can instantly charm a person.
But then you meet him and it's just.
This is the guy you're talking about?
The guy who forgets how to use his tongue sometimes and just does one of those little finger waves? The guy who, if he thinks you're not paying attention to him, will just stand there and make a bunch of goofy faces, lost in thought, muttering song lyrics under his breath? The guy who keeps making the most dorky references to music and movie culture—he quoted something from Star Trek on one of his dates. And the guy who will run into walls when trying to make a swift exit?
Dude is awkward. He is clammy. He is stuttering over his words and trying to cover it up with his pretty smile—which, yeah could be charming, but in his own special streak of charming. Every romantic gesture he pulls is more outlandish, garish, and brash than the last; he is fumbling matches for candles, though, and he is sticking himself in the thumb with the thorns on roses, he is spilling popcorn all over himself on movie dates, and he is tripping on his own feet while trying to carry a girl to his bed upstairs.
Every time a girl kisses his cheek, he's immediately flushing head to toe, smiling all crooked, eyes all soft. He almost forgets to kiss them back.
When he dates Eddie, though? Oh my god.
Eddie flirts with him and Steve literally squeaks. Eddie watches him while Steve is playing basketball, he fumbles the ball and falls onto his knees on the court. Eddie tucks hair behind Steve's ear, Steve is blurting out his entire hair care regime—all because Eddie murmured about how soft it was. Eddie rubs his back while they're cuddled on the couch, Steve gets a boner so fast that he nearly blacks out. Eddie makes them dinner once, tells Steve to just sit down at the table while ushering him out of the kitchen, and Steve is in such a daze of love that he runs into the doorjamb face first and breaks his nose.
When Eddie tells him he loves him? Steve literally screams and has to take a lap before saying it back.
Every time Steve flirts, he has to back track five steps. Every time he compliments Eddie, he has to clarify that it's a compliment because they all come out so aggressively to the point they sound like insults. He tries to quote Shakespeare and, sure it's a love quote, but it's from some incest scene and Eddie laughs before telling him what it really means.
I don't know. Steve just embarrasses himself a lot. Like he definitely has the capacity to sweep somebody off their feet, romance 'em or whatever. But when he's really, really in love with somebody (whether it be after a few dates with a girl, the person he's in love with is Nancy, or even Eddie)? Steve is not chill whatsoever.
Everything that rumors said were just complete lies. You wanna know who started them?
Tommy.
It was Tommy trying to cover for his best friend. Because he saw Steve smile at a girl once, flirt with her, get a date with her. But he had a piece of broccoli stuck between his two front teeth. He couldn't save the interaction even if he tried, Steve was too enamored to quit. The only saving grace Tommy could think of was sell Steve as this handsome, charming, romantic guy—even though the Steve he knew was dorky, a major geek in private, awkward as hell, and funny half the time (his jokes were very hit or miss).
(Also, imagine gay Tommy just trying to reason with himself that his crush—his best friend—is actually not the awkward guy he really is. And maybe he still likes Steve. But Jesus. That piece of broccoli was huge! How did Steve not feel it?)
Anyway. Cringe fail Steve is something very important to me.
#stranger things#steddie#steve harrington#eddie munson#bisexual steve harrington#bisexual disaster steve harrington#he's a lovable loser
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# STOP LOOKING AT ME WITH THOSE EYES ! YANDERE! AXEL KOVACEVIC X READER, WRITTEN
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introduction master list request list
# WARNINGS: not a good interpretation of a yandere (not intense), lowercase intended, female! reader, use of y/n, spelling/grammar errors, possible OC axel and gullible reader, established relationship, messy writing, and maybe bad descriptions. good ending!! + a cute extra scene at the end
# SUMMARY: you decided to follow your boyfriend to the torment he was participating in. due to not making many friends in highschool in croatia, being in a new environment and country could be a possibility to make new friends, but by the way axel is acting, he doesn’t seem to like that.
# AUTHOR’S NOTE: i did have to watch season 6 again to really get a good intro on axel again, i also did some research/watch interviews, hoping it is right. in this axel is 16 years old and is from croatia, balkans. meaning that axel is going to school in croatia and went to hong kong for training with sensei wolf. i know that it wasn't shown but pretend that axel and reader actually had time and would at least in someway interact with the other characters (more like just miyagi do). i apologize for this being on the short side, i’m still trying to get the hang of writing again. word count: 1100. here is the link of the song the title is named after!
# REQUESTED: YES
axel has been your boyfriend for a while now, and you've always been by his side—more voluntarily than anything, considering how hard it was for you to make friends in your high school back in croatia. it wasn’t that you were unlikable, just that people didn’t seem to care enough to get close. axel was different, though. from the moment he noticed you, it was like you were the only person in his world.
when he told you he was leaving for the tournament, you didn’t hesitate to follow. a new environment, a new country—it sounded like an opportunity, a fresh start. maybe this time, things would be different. maybe you could finally belong somewhere. but axel… he didn’t seem to like that idea.
it started small. a hand on your lower back when you tried to talk to someone new. standing just a little too close when another competitor greeted you. answering for you when someone would ask a question. his grip would tighten, his voice always calm but firm, a quiet reminder.
stay close to me.
you brushed it off at first. axel had always been protective. he said it was because he knew what people were really like— how they used and discarded others when it suited them. you didn't want to believe that.
but then came the glares. the cold, sharp eyes watching every interaction you had. the way his jaw clenched whenever someone so much as smiled at you. the way his mood soured whenever you laughed at someone else's joke.
then the words.
"we're leaving soon, don't get to close"
"they're pretending to be nice, they're trying to get to me"
"i'm the only one who understands you"
at first, you tried to ignore it. axel had always been intense— possessive, even —but he had his reasons. he didn't trust easily, and he never let his guard down. but now, that wasn't just directed at his opponents in the tournament. it was now aimed at anyone who got too close to you.
it started off small. a hand on your wrist when you lingered too long in a conversation. a sharp look when miguel or hawk cracked a joke that made you laugh. the way he always seemed to position himself between you and someone else. like an unspoken barrier.
at first, the others found it ammusing.
"man, your boyfriend's intense," hawk had said nudging miguel after axel all but dragged you away from a conversation. "you sure he let's you breathe?" miguel had given you a sympathetic glance, but he didn't push. sam, on the other hand, did.
"you know that you can talk to whoever you want, right?" she asked one afternoon when axel had stepped away for a minute, due to his sensei wanting to have a conversation with him.
"i know," you had said, but the words felt hollow. because deep down, you knew it wasn't about permission. it was about him. about the way axel saw the world— how he believed people couldn't be trusted. and more than anything, it was about his fear of losing you.
but it couldn't go on like this.
that night, after most of the competitors had gone back to their rooms, you found him outside, leaning against the railing of the balcony of your shared rooms. the bright active city lights reflected in his eyes, but his expression was unreadable.
"you're mad," he said before you could even open your mouth. "i'm frustrated," you corrected, stepping closer. "axel... you have to stop this. i want to be here with you, but i can't do that if you keep pushing everyone else away." his grip tightened on the railing. "i'm not pushing them away. i'm protecting you."
"from what?" you asked, starting to get irritated. "from people being nice to me? from me finally being able to have the chance to make friends?"
he turned to face you then, his gaze sharp but conflicted. "people lie. they act friendly, they pretend to care— but in the end, they always let you down." his voice was steady, but there was something beneath it. something raw. "not everyone," you said softly, reaching for his hand. "not me."
for a moment, he didn't move. then, slowly, his fingers curled around yours, his grip firm, but not forceful. "i don't want to lose you," he admitted, voice barely above a whisper. "you won't," you promised. "but you have to trust me the way I trust you."
axel exhaled sharply, looking away. you could tell it wasn't easy for him, to let go of control. but after a moment, he nodded. "...alright," he muttered. "but if they give me a reason to not trust them—"
"i know," you interrupted, a small smile tugging at your lips. "you'll be watching." a smirk ghosted across his face, and for the first time in a while. his presence didn't feel suffocating. it felt grounding.
— extra scene funny and cute!! (y/n and axel are sitting with miyagi do in this scenario and they have a good relationship with them in this scene.)
the shift in axel hadn't gone noticed. while he still had his moments—hovering nearby whenever someone got a little too friendly—he wasn’t shutting you off from the rest of the world anymore.
during a lunch with all the teams in the tournament, miguel nudged hawk and nodded toward the two of you. “dude, i think your little intervention worked.” hawk smirked, taking a bite of his food. “told you. y/n just had to remind him that she’s her own person, and won’t go anywhere.” hawk replied quietly.
demetri, who had been wary of axel ever since the tense standoff, finally realized enough to sit at the same table again. “so, we’re actually allowed to talk to you now?” he teased, raising an eyebrow.
axel shot him a look, but there’s no hostility behind it. “don’t push it.” tory leaned back in her chair, smirking. “hey, progress is progress.”
even sam, who has been quietly observing, gave a small nod of approval. “it’s nice to see you with us instead of watching from a distance.”
you squeezed axel’s hand under the table, and for once, he didn’t flinch away from the attention. instead, he met your gaze, a silent understanding passing between you.
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
the end!!! 😄😄 if anyone from the better norris series is reading this, part three is coming soon! just trying to get through the axel requests, which i am open to more requests, before posting the third part. ( i am working on part four rn )
#fanfiction#fanfic#imagines#x reader#axel kovacevic#axel cobra kai#cobra kai imagine#cobra kai spoilers#daniel larusso#johnny lawrence#samantha larusso#miguel diaz#send me requests#cobra kai season 6#axel kovacevic x reader#axel kovacevic imagines#cobra kai series#netflix series#cobra kai imagines yandere#cobra kai x fem!reader#cobra kai x reader#cobra kai x you#axel x reader#yandere axel kovacevic#ck
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Only Place Worth Being
Little something for one of my Secret Valentine's! Hope you enjoy Ben, one of my fav love songs is a bit angsty, but I promise is all works out in the end <3
Song rec: Cold Cold Man - Saints Motel
Word Count: 2302
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You sigh, feeling defeated as you set the vase back down on the desk. All day, you'd waited for any kind of acknowledgement. A thank you, a nod, even just a passing glance.
Nothing. Nothing at all.
Another gift, another failed attempt.
And on Valentine's, at that.
You take one of the flowers out, twisting it between your fingers.
Maybe flowers weren't their thing? Though, that implied that neither were cards, stuffed animals, art supplies, and—okay yeah maybe this was a pattern.
Maybe gift-giving wasn't their love language? They always accepted gifts from the children without hesitation, fawning over them and the likes. Proudly announcing their joy at receiving something so lovely, and displaying it for all to see somewhere in the Daycare. Could it really just be all an act?
You try to reason with yourself more and more as you set the flower back. You felt bad that they'd go to waste, and almost considered taking them home with you, but that just felt… pathetic. And rude.
You need to face the facts; they just didn't love you like you did them.
They didn't love you at all, for that matter.
You've tried everything to tell them when it came to your side. Hinted at it, joked about it, did everything except outright say the words. And the only reason you hadn't done that was because you felt almost certain of the rejection that would occur.
So, you tried for the most part to keep your feelings to yourself, only letting slip ups like this happen once in a blue moon. A moment of weakness, a moment of 'what if'. Though you've yet to have that happen.
You know they tolerated you, you think you were friends at the very least.
They would tease you, make you laugh, and so on. You worked well together, be that keeping the kids corralled for arts and crafts, or for naptime. You'd spent many a night working late cleaning up, chatting, flirting. Or at least, you'd thought so.
"Sunshine, could you help me clean this table please?" Sun would ask, more than capable of doing it on his own.
But you'd oblige with a smile and a nod, heart racing every time your hands brushed against each other. Seemingly too many times to just be 'incidental'.
"Starlight, sit and read this with me, I want to make sure it's something the children will enjoy." Moon insisted, pulling you into his lap where you'd stay until he deemed otherwise.
But during the day it was almost the complete opposite. They were professional, to the point. Conversational, but brief. Their laughter at your jokes not quite as full, more nervous, or hollow.
It almost made you feel like you were going crazy, getting the most mixed signals of your life. Maybe that's why you hadn't given up until this point. You always somehow managed to get drawn back in.
A bout of excited yelling from further in the Daycare interrupts your melancholic thought process. You see Sun is busy with several of the remaining kids, acting out some sort of scene with them as a distractor while they wait to be picked up.
You lean back against the security desk, sad smile on your lips as you observe. They'd make someone very happy one day, you think. It just wasn't going to be you.
You needed to finally accept that.
Sometime a bit later, as you're packing up your bag, your phone rings. Taking a glance you see it's your manager. You answer, not thinking as you're digging in your bag for your keys.
"Hey." She says.
"Hey." You reply.
She sighs, you can hear the tap of a pen. "I got your file pulled up here. Talked to the manager over in rockstar row and they said they're happy to have an extra set of hands if I've got 'em. I just wanted to double check with you before I make any changes."
You cringe at her words, as if you hadn't been expecting them, or this call. You wanted this. You asked for it. You couldn't seriously be upset that you'd gotten exactly what you had asked for. Deal with it now or suffer the consequences later.
It had been the only way, you'd argued. Your little crush was affecting your day to day, and theirs. It wasn't fair to keep pushing when they weren't going to give. And if you stayed here you'd just feel like a burden, and that's the last thing you wanted. You decided that you'd still do your best to remain friends, maybe hang around and offer guidance and the likes to whoever took your place.
"I, yeah, give me a second,"—you still can't find your keys, now confused and frustrated—"I can't seem to find my—"
A jingling sound from behind you stops you in your tracks. And just as you turn around to find yourself face to chest with a yellow torso do you hear the 'call ended' noise go through your phone.
Only then do you realize you'd been on speaker.
Your eyes slowly move up, meeting Sun's gaze after a moment.
His smile is as static as always but his eyes are narrow slits that sear into you. You shift your focus slightly to the left to see your keys spinning around his finger. He clears his nonexistent throat and your focus goes back to him.
No point in beating around the bush. "Um, I was… going to tell you guys. Once it was for sure going to happen. Didn't think you'd take my keys as punishment." The joke is a bust and you know it, especially given his entirely unwavering gaze.
"Oh, Sunbeam. We took your keys much earlier today, for a different reason entirely." He suddenly bends to your level, rays ticking to the side. "But now, I think I'll be keeping them. Because an explanation is in order."
You think you'd find him intimidating in that moment, but building off your earlier feelings—and all the others you've kept in for so long—all you find is anger and frustration pouring forth.
"I'm the one who owes an explanation? What about you? What about the both of you and this… game you've been playing with me?" You stand straight, poking a finger into his chest as he jumps back from the touch. It only fuels your fire. "I just, I can't get you. Can't wrap my head around how you can just go from being all over me to flinching at my touch. I think you like me, think you care, and then snap! It's like we're back to square one again. Do you know how much that hurts? Besides the fact that I love you, even if it was just as a friend, being this hot and cold with someone is just cruel, you know. So I was just trying to save all three of us the trouble and finally take myself out of the picture. Because lord knows you two have probably been dying for that to happen."
You take a gasping breath, hand coming up to your hair as you breath heavy, tears pricking your eyes. You dare to spare a glance over to the Attendant. If he didn't hate you before, well, he probably does now. And you're sure it'll be the same with Moon.
You cough into the silence, cheeks starting to burn. "Now. Can I have my keys back, please?"
Sun doesn't answer you, and you suddenly hear a loud thump. You jump, whipping to look at him and find that he's dropped to his knees.
He looks nowhere in particular as he speaks, voice barely a whisper. "No, surely... is that, what have I—" He grips his rays tight, they squeak under the force. His words become unintelligible to you, and it's then you realize he's switched to binary. It's garbled, grating, and it worries you.
You rush over, reaching out to touch his shoulder, but hesitate. "Sun, is everything okay?"
No response, the binary grows in volume, worse, harsher.
You finally have no choice and have to put your hands on his shoulders. "Sun! Talk to me, Pretty bot."
He snaps to attention, eyes meeting yours as you rub soothing circles into his shoulders. Slowly, his hands release his rays, dropping to his sides. He leans into your touch, head drooping and dropping onto your shoulder. You ignore anything this action stirs in you, especially when he lets out a quiet sigh.
"Pretty bot?" He asks after a moment.
You can't help the laugh that slips out. "You act like I've never called you that before."
"I took it for granted, then." His hands travel up to rest on your own shoulders, squeezing. "If I'd realized how high the chances were of never hearing it again, I would have treasured it more than I do."
You freeze at this, and he notices, pulling back to look at you, rays spinning a couple times.
"I'm so, so sorry love, give me, us, a chance to explain, would you?" His hand cups your cheek. "We don't deserve it, but it would mean everything if you did."
You swallow, nodding slowly. "Okay."
Sun rises to his feet again, and extends a hand to you. You pause for a moment, then take it. He suddenly pulls you into a spin, and the Daycare music stops, switching to something else, modern, pop. A piano riff begins to play and Sun guides you into dancing along.
Sun chuckles softly. "The concept of love, and feelings, it's... exceedingly difficult for us to express properly in words of our own. But, we both think this song puts it near perfectly."
The singer starts then, and you recognize the tune. It's an old favorite of yours, and you know the lyrics well.
'Oh, my love. I know, I am a cold, cold man. Quite slow to pay you compliments, or public displayed affections...'
You snicker to yourself. That one hit you right in the chest, you won't deny. But the direct acknowledgement right off the bat was a start.
At the chorus, Sun's hands grip yours tightly. You realize then that he's trembling slightly.
'You're the only one worth seeing, the only place worth being, the only bed worth sleeping is the one right next to you...'
"Sun—" You start, concerned.
He shakes his head. "We're okay. Please, keep listening."
You frown, but nod.
The two of you continue to sway and spin, and you listen, really listen. It may be an old favorite, but they've given you an entirely different context to hear it in now. Feel it in now. Appreciate it, now.
If it's truly a representation of how they feel, for you, then it's finally happened. They've broken you. You keep your feelings inside, waiting until the song is over to say anything.
As the music fades out, Sun stops your movements, but keeps your hands held in his.
He speaks before you can. "This is all, so new, to us. And we simply find it terrifying. We don't know how to act, what to do. It's all… so much. But we were so focused on our own feelings towards you that we neglected you." He looks up to you then, even with that unmoving face of his he's still able to convey a look of genuine distraught and remorse. "We're so, so sorry, love."
"I—"
In that moment, the lights cut, the Daycare—and the Attendant momentarily—powering down.
Still holding your hands, Moon appears, faceplate spinning once or twice as he meets your gaze.
Again, you don't get your chance to speak first. "You can hate us if you must. If that does anything to ease the pain we've caused." The naptime attendant rasps out. "To be truthful, I almost wish you would. It's been more than earned." He lets you go then, stepping back.
"Was it true?" You ask. "About the song being an accurate representation of… how you feel?" You glance down, biting your lip.
"Stars, Moonbeam. It wasn't even the half of it. It's so much more than that. But yes, to a point, yes."
You shake your head, stepping forward. After a moment, you hold out your arms wide. Moon gets the idea, enveloping you in a hug soon thereafter.
"I was hurting, a lot." You say against his shoulder.
"I know."
"I was so close to leaving."
Moon makes a rumbling noise, holding you tighter. "We know."
"If this is gonna work, we have to talk more. Okay?"
"As much as you want. Whenever you want. Anything, anything that you'll let us have." You find that he, too, is trembling now.
You chuckle, petting his hat in an attempt to soothe him. "If that's the case, I guess I can let go of some of the anguish the two of you have put me through."
"We'll do whatever it takes to take that away. To make up for it. Promise. Promise. Promise." It occurs to you then that he's lifting and pressing his faceplate, specifically his smile, into your shoulder. Kissing, he's kissing you.
Oh.
You gently push him back, cupping his faceplate. "Hey, why settle for the alternatives when you can have the real deal?"
Moon stares at you a moment, so still you'd think he powered down. Then, you're being peppered with kisses all over your face. Your cheeks, your forehead, your nose, and your lips, especially your lips.
You laugh, trying half-heartedly to push him away. "Quit it! I'm serious! So greedy."
"Yes." Moon hisses in between kisses. "Absolutely. Always."
You finally give in and succumb to the love being bestowed upon you then. You think you liked the sound of that.
Always.
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Gahhh this was a lot of fun, a bit angsty but I think it got cute and sweet by the end, I was really channeling the song and like the vibes, Happy Valentine's Bensus!!!
Adding the tag list since it's writing stuff
@scarletcowboy @beemyhuneybee @fishm0ther @deviouscrackers @elsajoyagent8 @luckyyyduckyyy @zenkaiankoku @jogimote @local-shrub @milosmantis @robinette-green @everlightreader @sinister-sincerely @starredeclipse @dangerva @juukai @crystalmagpie447 @mothgutz236 @lizyxml @divinit3a @amarynthian-chronicles @crystalfay @that-one-unknown-artist @rosescarletful @buzzybee3
#fnaf dca#dca fandom#fnaf sun#fnaf daycare attendant#fnaf moon#dca fic#x reader#sundrop#moondrop#secret valentine's 2025#i love this song so much guhhh#thank you for enabling me Ben#it twas very funnn#i hope you like it and have a great day <3333
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I don't think that The Kiss is the big reveal in The Final 15.
Neither is Aziraphale getting into the lift/elevator.
The very last thing we hear-- Tori Amos' cover of "A Nightingale Sang in Berkeley Square"-- being the song Crowley hears in The Bentley?
That's actually the biggest thing in 2.06.
It's arguably one of the biggest reveals in the series to date. How so?
Because this moment canonizes that "A Nightingale Sang in Berkeley Square" is not only a song that the show chose to play over the end of S1 for only the audience to hear... it is, indisputably, Crowley and Aziraphale's song.
This moment says that they have a song.
This moment says that their song contains lyrics about being "so in love" that "the whole world seemed upside down."
This moment says, without any doubt, that they're already a couple.
It exists in a way that completely undercuts any idea that the kiss that occurred a few moments prior was their first one-- even as the story is also designed in such a way as to lead some viewers to think that it might be.
This moment takes the heavily-evidenced-but-still-kinda-theoretical and makes it clear to the audience that they were correct about what they put together about Crowley and Aziraphale's relationship to this song in S1.
It says that when we heard the pianist in The Ritz scene in 1.06 playing an instrumental version of this song? As we suspected, it wasn't a coincidence. As of 2.06, we can go ahead and see that bit of S1 for what it was-- that she was playing it because Crowley and Aziraphale had requested it, wanting to hear their song.
It says that those of us whose ideas that this song might have meaning to Crowley and Aziraphale based off of Aziraphale's "dine at The Ritz" in 1967 and the song containing the lyrics about angels dining at The Ritz, along with how much of a relationship conversation 1967 is, were correct.
It says that Crowley and Aziraphale have a song. A romantic one, with unambiguous lyrics about being in love. A song they already had prior to S1 because they requested it at The Ritz in the S1 finale. A song they already had prior to 1967, when Aziraphale was using its lyrics as shorthand between them.
In S1, Tori Amos' cover of their song was used non-diegetically over the end of the season-- meaning, only we could hear it. The characters could not. Clues existed that the song had meaning to them but we didn't have overt proof of that in S1.
We do now.
We do as of the end of S2, where the same cover of the song was used diegetically. It's now one that Crowley can hear as well as we can, as The Bentley plays it for him. Likely because Aziraphale asked it to. It now exists within the characters' story-- not just as music playing for our benefit over their story.
I think that this ten or so seconds of the song playing when Crowley gets into The Bentley are given to us so we can reframe our ideas of what is going on-- especially what was happening in The Kiss scene-- around this knowledge.
Like most of Good Omens' important things, it's a narrative magic trick. It's information relevant to what came before it that is only received later. Its existence then changes the context of the prior scenes and recontextualizes our understanding of what we were watching.
Right now, the audience is looking mostly here:
And, if they're not, they're looking over here:
And there's certainly much to look at in those both of those moments, for sure, but... the actual last moment of S2 is the big thing. It's the one that says that this isn't a story about a couple that has never gotten together; this is a story about a forbidden, secret romance.
They're a couple who has spent their existence pretending they're not one-- not to one another but to the world. The last few years? Not really, as Crowley said... but, also, not really openly, either. There's a South Downs Cottage with their name on it in The Finale, though...
#good omens#ineffable husbands#crowley#aziraphale#aziracrow#good omens meta#good omens 2#crowley x aziraphale
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My Lover
//Kang Haerin x 6thMember!Reader//Short Oneshot//
SYPNOSIS ♡︎ Haerin isn’t the jealous type. At least, that’s what she tells herself—until she starts seeing clips of you and Minji all over the internet.
WARNINGS ♡︎ Jealousy, Possessiveness (soft and non-toxic), Brief Miscommunication, Shipping culture, Hidden Relationship(the members know lol)
WORDCOUNT ♡︎ 1.7k
TAGS ♡︎ Jealous!Haerin, Established Relationship, fluff, FLUFF(was literally kicking my feet while writing this), Light Angst??
A/N:This is a little 1am brain fart so If I cringe at it tomorrow, I’ll probably end up deleting it lol
"MINY/N SUPREMACY!!"
"Their chemistry is insane, are we SURE they’re just best friends??"
"Minji and Y/N have been inseparable lately."
Haerin scrolls through the comments under the latest clip of you and Minji’s interactions. The video itself is nothing special, just you laughing at one of Minji’s jokes, leaning into her like it’s second nature. But the fans eat it up.
The video loops again.
Your eyes crinkle when you smile at Minji. She reaches out instinctively when you stumble, her hand lingering just a second too long. And it’s not just one clip, there are dozens of them now. Edits spliced together, set to soft love songs, moments slowed down to exaggerate the way you two look at each other.
You aren’t Minji’s girlfriend.
You’re Haerin’s. Only hers.
But no one ever ships Haerin and Y/N. No one ever slows down the moments where she is the one next to you.
The thought settles in her chest, foreign and unfamiliar.
Jealousy.
But Haerin doesn’t get jealous.
…Right?
"They’re reaching." Haerin mutters under her breath.
She locks her phone and tosses it onto the bed. It’s just fan edits. Just harmless shipping. She’s known for a long time that people see what they want to see.
"Don’t let them get in your head.”
But then why does her chest feel so tight?
Because one comment keeps repeating in her mind.
"Minji and Y/N have been inseparable lately."
And it’s true.
Lately, you’ve been stuck to Minji like glue. On stage. In the waiting room. During interviews. Even in practice.
And Haerin remembers—earlier, while filming behind-the-scenes content, you had shoved your phone in Minji’s face, barely able to contain your laughter.
"Min, look! "Minji looking at Y/N like she's the love of her life" oh my god, the heart eyes emoji is killing me! They're reaching so muchhh."
You wheezed, whispering the last part, playfully smacking Minji’s shoulder over and over as she groaned in embarrassment.
The members had laughed. Even the staff chuckled.
Haerin hadn’t.
She had been standing by the water station, fingers curling a little too tightly around a flimsy paper cup, watching as you laughed with Minji like it was the easiest thing in the world.
‘You’re not Minji’s girlfriend.’
She let the water run down her throat, but it did nothing to wash away the strange, unsettled feeling gnawing at her chest.
‘You’re mine.’
Before she even realized it, she was walking back toward the group.
She didn’t say anything, but you noticed immediately.
"Hey, baby, you okay?" You stepped in front of her, voice soft, concern evident in your eyes.
Haerin barely nodded.
You frowned, about to press further—
"Alright, break’s over!" the choreographer called.
You hesitated, eyes scanning her face, but eventually sighed and gave her hand a light squeeze before stepping back into position.
Haerin watched you go.
She told herself it didn’t bother her.
But that was a lie.
And now, before she even realizes it, she’s standing in front of your door.
Her jealousy isn’t loud. It never is.
But when she pushes the door open, stepping into the dim glow of your room, you feel it instantly—heavy in the air, simmering just beneath the surface.
The kind of jealousy that doesn’t need words to be known.
You barely register the sound of the door creaking open before a familiar presence fills the room.
“Rinnie?” Your voice is soft, questioning, as you sit up in bed. There’s only one person who wouldn’t bother knocking.
Your girlfriend.
Sure enough, Haerin steps inside, her small frame swallowed by an oversized pink hoodie, the hood pulled up with little bear ears perched on top. On any other night, you’d tease her about how ridiculously cute she looks.
But something feels off.
Despite the cozy hoodie, her posture is rigid, her expression unreadable. Haerin has always been hard to read, but this, this is different.
You frown slightly, setting your phone aside. “Rinnie?”
She doesn’t answer right away. Instead, she takes a slow step forward, then another, her gaze locked onto yours. And for some reason, the air between you shifts, thicker, heavier.
You swallow.
Something is definitely wrong.
You frown slightly. “Is something wrong, love?”
The second the word love leaves your lips, Haerin stiffens. Then, as if short-circuiting, she speed-walks toward you, her ears turning the faintest shade of pink.
Before you can react, she climbs onto the bed, quietly straddling your lap. Her arms snake around your waist as she buries her face into your neck, pressing impossibly close.
Warmth instantly floods your chest.
You chuckle, wrapping your arms around her in return. "You’re clingy tonight" you tease lightly, rubbing slow circles against her back.
Haerin hums in response, but doesn’t say anything right away. Instead, she tightens her grip, nuzzling further into you, her soft hair tickling your skin.
Gently, you murmur, “Seriously Though, what’s wrong?”
She doesn’t answer immediately. A few beats pass, filled only by the quiet sound of your breathing. Then, finally, she mumbles against your skin, her voice barely above a whisper—
“Do you like seeing those videos?”
Your fingers still against her back.
Oh.
So that’s what this is about.
Smiling softly, you shift slightly, pressing a gentle kiss against the top of her hood. “Rinnie…”
She doesn’t lift her head, but you feel the way she tenses ever so slightly, waiting for your answer.
You sigh, pulling back just enough to cup her cheeks to meet your eyes. She resists at first, gaze flickering away, but you don’t let up. Your thumbs brush over the warmth of her skin, and slowly, reluctantly, her eyes find yours.
Her lips are pressed into a pout, her usual neutral expression betraying just the faintest hint of something vulnerable. It’s almost too cute to handle.
“The edits are kind of funny,” you admit, brushing your thumb along her cheek. “But they don’t mean anything.”
Haerin’s lips twitch, but she doesn’t respond.
A small pause.
“You’re always with Minji when we film,” she mutters.
You blink, momentarily taken aback by the shift in her tone.
“Minji isn’t your girlfriend,” she says, quieter this time. “I am.”
Your chest tightens at how small her voice sounds.
A soft laugh escapes you before you can stop it—not out of mockery, but out of sheer disbelief that this is what’s been eating at her. That your Haerin, quiet and composed, is sulking over some fan edits.
“Wait, are you jealous?” you tease, poking her cheek playfully.
Haerin doesn’t answer right away. Instead, she gently takes your wrist, her fingers curling around it, thumb tracing slow, deliberate circles against your skin.
“…You don’t act like that with me.”
Your teasing smile fades.
“On camera, no,” you clarify, voice softer now. “You know how careful we have to be, Rinnie. I didn’t want to make things harder for you, so I thought keeping some distance was the best thing.”
Haerin stays quiet, her gaze locked onto where her fingers are still brushing against yours.
You tilt your head slightly, watching her. “I’m sorry, baby. I thought it was what you wanted.”
“I don’t like it,” she murmurs.
You exhale, squeezing her hand. “Then tell me what you do want.”
“I don’t want you getting shipped with Minji.”
“I don’t want you to distance yourself from me on camera.”
You hold her gaze for a moment before nodding.
“Okay.”
You don’t break your promise.
The next time the cameras are rolling, you make sure Haerin feels it.
During a phoning live, when Minji passes you a snack, you thank her without much thought—but instead of eating it right away, you turn to Haerin, holding it up to her lips first. She blinks, startled, but opens her mouth after a small hesitation. The chat explodes instantly.
📌@stayrkieeiiw
"Did I miss an update?? Since when were they like THIS???"
💬 @ynhaerinupdate
"WHEN DID THIS HAPPEN? WHY WAS I NOT INFORMED???"
🔁 @haerinno111
"Haerin’s little hesitation before eating lmao she was definitely malfunctioning."
During a music show, while the members are waiting backstage, you casually walk up behind Haerin and rest your chin on her shoulder. The cameras catch the moment as she flinches slightly in surprise before relaxing against you. You don’t move, just standing there with your arms loosely draped around her. The staff members barely react, too used to your antics, but the fans? They lose their minds.
📌 @gay4haerin
"WAIT, Y/N AND HAERIN?? HELLO???"
💬 @haerinsoftie
"They act like a married couple and expect us to be normal about it"
🔁@kpopfangirl24
“Y/N and Haerin have been so touchy lately???”
During a variety show game, you and Haerin end up on the same team. Every time she gets an answer right, you don’t just cheer, you grab her hands and shake them excitedly, or wrap an arm around her shoulders, pulling her close in celebration. At one point, you’re so excited that you practically tackle her into a hug. She stumbles slightly, laughing, and the members tease you, but you don’t let go.
📌 @ynhaerin4life
“The way Y/N is all over her I CAN’T.”
💬 @njzrawr
“golden retriever x black cat energy”
🔁 @idkwhotostan
“Y/N and Haerin are so clingy In here, I need them to explain themselves IMMEDIATELY.”
On a phoning live, you’re seated next to Haerin, and for some reason, you can’t stop messing with her hoodie strings. You keep tugging them playfully, leaning in close whenever she tries to bat your hands away. Eventually, you give up on the strings and just rest your head on her shoulder instead. She freezes for a second, then lets out the softest sigh before tilting her head slightly so your temple rests against hers. The moment is short, but fans catch it instantly.
📌 @ynhaerin4life
"Haerin’s little smile when Y/N leans on her 😭.”
🔁 @multistan010
"Omg...do they know we can see them..?"
💬 @fuckhybeomg
"ARE WE ALL SEEING THIS?? IS THIS REAL??"
After a long day of promotions, the group films a short vlog in their practice room. You’re exhausted, so you naturally gravitate toward Haerin, flopping down beside her and resting your head against her lap. She stiffens at first, her hands hovering awkwardly over you before she hesitantly starts running her fingers through your hair. The fans don’t miss the way she tries to hide her smile, but the cameras catch it anyway.
📌 @haerinupdates
"SHE TRIED TO HIDE IT BUT WE SAW IT. WE ALL SAW IT."
💬 @idkiwannasleepsb
"DID YOU SEE THAT. DID YOU GUYS SEE HER SMILE!?"
🔁 @Y/nupdates
“Theyre not even trying to hide it atp. #YNsold”
🔁 @haerinwinning
"Y/N used to keep her distance from Haerin, now she’s acting like a lovesick puppy… what CHANGED???? 🤨"
📌 @ynhaerin_cult
"THEM. THAT’S IT. THAT’S THE TWEET. #YNSold #Theyremarriedsir"
💬 @minjynomg
"Miny/n shippers are in shambles rn"
Later that night, you scroll through the comments with a smug smile. Next to you, Haerin peeks at your phone screen, then flicks your forehead.
“Stop looking at those,” she mutters, trying to act indifferent.
You just grin, nudging her gently. “You like it, don’t lie.”
She huffs but doesn’t deny it. Instead, she shifts closer, intertwining her fingers with yours under the covers.
————
OG MY GODO I CANNOT WRITE PET NAMES WITHOUT CRINGING OFMG KILL ME NOW😭🙏
Taglist: haha I'm lazy
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I've been so fascinated with how the movie pulls off the emotional climax at Ozdust, because I think its not nearly as simple as is seems to a lot of people. Like you can reduce it to "Elphaba did something nice and Glinda felt bad" and then one dance routine later they're friends
I think its a lot more than that though, and I think the movie kinda trickles things in gradually to show it throughout. And that kinda reduces it down to Glinda's guilt motivating the entire friendship, which I don't think is accurate either. Its less "Glinda feels bad" and more "Glinda and Elphaba realized they were playing entirely different games and had entirely skewed their reasons for hating each other" which included making Glinda also realize that she was being a bitch for no damned reason
Like, even their reasons for their rivalry are different from each other and so are their reasons for "maintaining" that rivalry. Their first interaction was them both mutually embarrassing each other, though only Elphaba was trying to embarrass Glinda. Which, to be clear, I'm not saying puts Elphaba in the wrong. Elphaba is very clearly in the right for I'm pretty sure all of this, and even if Glinda wasn't trying to embarrass Elphaba, it doesn't make her promising to degreen Elphaba in front of everyone any better. It's just important to understand their different perspectives on what is going on to understand the different places they're coming from. Glinda was putting on a performance of being a good person, at Elphaba's expense which she didn't even consider. Elphaba was pointing out how stupid that was and embarrassing Glinda to prove she's unbothered and correct.
That is kinda that best summary of how their rivalry goes. Glinda is performing, while Elphaba is responding to that but specifically in ways to piss off Glinda and show she's wrong. But they don't realize what the other one is doing. Glinda is performing to look like a good person and maintain the admiration of her classmates. By putting on this front of suffering by having to be in Elphaba's presence, she gets an easy win with her peers. In What is This Feeling specifically, you see them over and over again validating Glinda for just existing in the presence of Elphaba.
And given the girl sings a whole song about how "its not about aptitude, its the way you're viewed," you can assume that putting on a good appearance to her peers is probably the most important thing to her, period. Literally nothing matters more than that, and Elphaba provides an easy win. But she also has some clear attraction draw toward Elphaba that is strange and unspecified (she's gay), because she doesn't just suffer by being Elphaba's reluctant roommate, but clearly goes out of her way to partner with her, to find her at lunch, to make a scene with her in class repeatedly. Like she almost doesn't even count just having to privately live with her, she needs to bring it out in public too and spend time around her even when she should be happy to finally not have her around.
And making it all the more clear to me that all of this is, in Glinda's eyes, just a performance, we have the "looks like the artichoke is steamed" line, which is definitely one of the meanest things she says to Elphaba, but the way it goes down is fascinating. Because let's look at how that goes down:
Glinda makes a scene because Dr. Dillamond mispronounces her name.
Elphaba defends Dr. Dillamond and tries to embarrass Glinda.
Artichoke comment.
everyone is laughing at Elphaba.
To Glinda, this is what they do. They poke and poke at each other in public until one of them folds and wins, and if its her she gets public approval. But, what makes this clear to me that this is a performance is Glinda's immediate actions after the artichoke comment. When everyone is laughing, she exchanges a look with Elphaba, and the look is not mean at all. She doesn't look like she's gloating or like she just won, she just kinda nods and smiles and it seems like a genuine acknowledgment of...something. It's unclear what, but she doesn't seem like she's overly proud. It's like she's nodding to someone who just played a good game against her, but lost and she wants them to know they played well. It's bizarre the look here and fascinating.
And even more bizarre because Elphaba seems to acknowledge it as well and seems like she understands and almost smiles in response. But I think this also illustrates the disconnect in them for what their rivalry is.
So looking at Elphaba now, her approach to her rivalry began with her embarrassing Glinda, as mentioned before, and continued with her embarrassing Glinda. Most of what she is doing is trying to intentionally embarrass Glinda, which as I said before, isn't really wrong because Glinda is as far as we ever see, the one who is in the wrong and who starts the whole thing by embarrassing Elphaba. But as I said before, embarrassing Elphaba isn't the point of what Glinda is doing, she's trying make herself look better and is just using Elphaba, but literally how would Elphaba know this and why would it matter?
We see that Elphaba has been targeted and mocked her entire life, and that is basically what Glinda is doing to her now. But its also different with Glinda. Because before its always like, groups of people banding against her, with Glinda its personal. She certainly has her minions and all, and basically the entire school hates Elphaba just because they love Glinda, but Glinda isn't really using them. She's still doing everything herself and seems to actually go out of her way to go against Elphaba herself.
That, as far as we know, is different than any bullying Elphaba has experienced before, and what also makes it different is that Elphaba has an advantage of having something Glinda wants and something that prevents her from being pushed aside. Elphaba is basically going to be at this school however long Madame Morrible wants her there, and Madame Morrible also hates Glinda, so Elphaba can't be pushed away and she also has this one thing to hold over Glinda, because she's the one getting the attention that Glinda actually wants. And she's also potentially the only one that might help Glinda get it.
In a really weird way, this rivalry with Glinda might be the closest thing to a friendship that Elphaba has had from someone that isn't her sister or her nanny. Because its both of them personally going after each other and they both also have advantages over each other. And its clear that Glinda could be using her peers to target Elphaba but isn't. And Elphaba also makes it clear that she can ignore people she doesn't like, and yet she doesn't ignore Glinda. Because both of these freaks enjoy poking each other nonstop forever too much. There is something that draws them together (homosexuality) even when they supposedly can't stand to be around one another. Glinda is performing, but Elphaba is having the time of her life sparring with someone in a way she probably never has before.
Which takes us to the hat.
Elphaba approaches Glinda because, according to Nessarose, Glinda did something nice for her. We don't know specifically what Elphaba was going to say to Glinda, but it seems like its something she isn't comfortable with. Maybe she was trying to figure out what Glinda's motivations were. Maybe she was just going to thank Glinda for what she did. Either way, we don't know because Glinda interrupts her by giving her the hat and really talking up that damned hat too. Not only giving her the hat, but specifically inviting Elphaba to go out with them. Elphaba has probably never gotten anything like that before.
Elphaba, who has had the time of her life being antagonistic with Glinda up until this point, now thinks that Glinda is doing nice things for her and for her sister, for seemingly no reason. So she returns the favor and makes Madame Morrible accept Glinda as a student and tell her that night. That night, because this was going to be best night for Nessarose, maybe for Elphaba too now, so let Glinda have something too. Maybe this rivalry was turning into something else and maybe Elphaba was glad for it.
Only, Glinda wasn't being nice.
Glinda getting Boq to ask out Nessarose wasn't to be nice to Nessarose. She wanted Boq to leave her alone. And she didn't give Elphaba the hat and invite her out to be nice, she wanted to embarrass her after receiving validation for the idea from Pfannee and Shenshen.
What you need to know about Glinda here, is that she does not think about other people. She will throw a fit at Dr. Dillamond mispronouncing her name because he physically can't say it right and then repeatedly call Boq by the wrong name. She doesn't know if Nessarose wants to go to the dance or if Elphaba wants her to stop mocking her. She doesn't even consider these things when deciding to do something for her own benefit. She is doing as Glinda must do to perform as she needs for her audience (the entire world).
Which is how we end up here, at the emotional climax of the night. When she discovers that Elphaba did one very nice thing for her after she did something specifically to humiliate Elphaba, its not just guilt for this one moment, right? Its guilt for every little thing that she's done that she just assumed wasn't actually affecting someone else. Her mocking Elphaba and doing all these things wasn't actually about Elphaba, after all, it was about Glinda looking well. Because she didn't even really think about Elphaba, or how she might be interpreting what their dynamic is or that she might actually have been hurt by the things Glinda does. It was all a performance to Glinda.
But is was something else to Elphaba entirely.
And so we look at all the times, like the artichoke moment or their introduction, where Elphaba didn't seem all that upset and maybe Glinda realizes that wasn't always the case. She just wants people to think she wasn't. She was performing too, just not in the same way Glinda was. She was enduring the disapproval of others because she was maintaining this dynamic with Glinda, whereas Glinda was getting approval from others for enduring Elphaba. They were playing different games entirely and Glinda didn't know until Madame Morrible gave her the wand. It wasn't just the cruelness of the hat that she realized, it was the cruelness of single thing she's ever done to Elphaba.
And looking from Glinda's perspective, it makes sense if you see that she's forced to reckon with the fact that she's a terrible person and doesn't like herself, but look at what the situation is from Elphaba's. To Elphaba, Glinda is the first person that saw that she'd hurt Elphaba and then reached out to comfort her and try to help fix it instead of laughing or getting upset or doing nothing. Like I said before, the dynamic she has with Glinda before this is maybe the closest thing she has had to a friend, which is fucked up. But also part of me wonders, based on how they're seemingly drawn together when they could just ignore each other and based on Elphaba's reaction to Glinda's sort of nod after the artichoke comment, AND based on how quick Elphaba was to approach Madame Morrible, part of me wonders if Elphaba was just hoping for a moment when their antagonism would end the whole time. And that's why she's so willing to accept that once Glinda does something that Galinda is not supposed to do and makes a fool of herself to support Elphaba in front of all of the people she's supposed to be putting on a show for.
Which I think, makes Glinda joining Elphaba in the dance that much more important. Because, and I love this for the movie, she's not getting praised for doing so. Shenshen and Pfannee tell her to stop. The initial reaction she gets once people realize she isn't mocking Elphaba is scorn. For like, this one little moment they're on the same page. Glinda is getting disapproval for being with Elphaba here. And it ends in them being accepted by the party, but that almost seems to be unimportant. They hug before they realize that everyone else has joined in, and once they realize it, they leave the party together pretty much immediately. Their relationship has been a show in public for so long and so what happens next when they stop performing happens in privacy, just for them.
#*chanting* toxic yuri! toxic yuri! toxic yuri!#if you start reading this before seeing how long it is I'm sorry#gelphie#elphaba thropp#glinda upland#wicked#wicked movie#wicked part one#wicked spoilers#wicked musical#long post
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some personal notes from the Becky and Joe q&a!!
magnet from webseries is a boy
computer & family are their favorite episodes
Joe likes the memory song most, Becky likes love
there's more merch coming out!! within a month :)
Becky's fav designs are Lesley and the train, joe likes the mirror because it's stupidly easy
tv show karaoke version on Spotify one day maybe
us event maybe, they want first class plane tickets
the Christmas tv episode was scrapped because their contact only allowed for 6 episodes, would've been fun. there was gonna be a character called Winter Susan
concept art book maybe! they also want to make something educational to fit the theme/vibe of the show
tv soundtrack on Spotify also soon sometime maybe
they would love to go to mexico
they talked about some scrapped characters (Duncan Andrews who was gonna be in Death and is shown in the quiz part of Electricity, care bear- type annoying character who died in the trios bed. clipboard)
duck autotune was removed because of The Government
warren was slightly based off of a real guy who worked with Becky and Joe
they really liked the tawog collab because of how much creative freedom they were given
red guy will be eternal
their favorite animation style within the show is, funnily enough, claymation
Becky and Joe are very big jack stauber fans and would love to collab some day
the deleted wine bottle scene from Time was part of a scrapped piece of lyrics (about aging wine) that was replaced by the rotting apple
Becky Joe and diamond Daniel will officiate your dhmis themed wedding
they're not 100% sure there will be more dhmis episodes, because of the time and money it takes. they feel like it's a bit weird to have a second kickstarter
Blu ray for the tv show maybe? international release soon
any teasers for future (dhmis) stuff will be released on their youtube channel
they're not releasing the pilot, pack it up guys
(legally not allowed, to expensive to buy back I believe? the sped up part at Rotterdam might've not been allowed either. rights are owned by turner)
they have an emailadres where you can send fanart! [email protected]
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𝑤ℎ𝑖𝑠𝑝𝑒𝑟𝑠 𝑓𝑟𝑜𝑚 𝑡ℎ𝑒 ℎ𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑡.
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PAIRING: stiles stilinski x fem!reader WARNINGS: none GENRE: fluff SONG INSPIRATION: teenage dream by katy perry WORD COUNT: 1.2k
navigation | ask | stiles stilinski masterlist
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it wasn't out of the blue for you and stiles to have a sleepover on fridays, actually it was a sort of unspoken rule between the two of you.
it first started when you said that you had never watched star wars before, which led to the both of you sitting on your couch with a big bowl of popcorn in between.
him explaining the little parts you'd get confused about or him just ranting about his favourite scenes. after that it was a back and forth of showing each other your favourite unseen movies.
when finishing said movie the following days you'd receive multiple memes from him about the specific films, it had become a recurring pattern that you'd come to love. it almost felt weird if he didn't.
tonight it was your turn to introduce him to the to all the boys i loved before trilogy since you'd been obsessed with the movies since they first came out.
he was on the fence about watching them since he wasn't a huge fan of romcoms, you somehow convinced him by saying "it's practice for watching them with your future girlfriend!" internally wincing at that.
every friday you felt more anxious before stiles showed, trying to fluff up your pillows and straighten out your blankets. wanting to make everything perfect.
you had a huge crush on stiles, how could you not after spending so much time together, learning all of his little quirks, his likes and his dislikes, the only thing you weren't sure about was the way he felt about you.
it was the one thing you wanted to know the most about him. did he think about you the same ways you thought about him? did he like the way cuddled when you'd watch these movies and shows with him?
you couldn't tell him though, what if he didn't feel the same way you did and it completely ruins the good friendship you have right now?
what would it take for you to finally tell him?
ding dong!
the doorbell ringing a couple times had you jogging down the stairs, opening the door with a warm smile to see hyper stiles.
"i'm so ready to get my movie night on! i had a math test today and let me tell you it sucked," he whines as he dramatically wraps his arms around your waist as he fake cries into your shoulder.
"well if it helps i have enough microwaveable popcorn to keep us going through the apocalypse soo you coming upstairs or what?"
with that said he zips past you up your stairs, falling up them in the process, making you giggle at his eagerness as you follow close behind him.
watching stiles practically swan dive onto your bed and aggressively sniff your pillow has you side eyeing him, "why is your bed so much comfier and smells so much nicer than mine? it's so not fair."
"it's a little thing called fabric softener and if you continuously jump into your bed the way you do mine, then i guess you've got your answer you dufus," you laugh at him burrowing himself deep under your duvet.
"plus i've slept in your bed it's plenty comfy, the key is lots of pillows and fluffy blankets." he hums as you settle yourself beside him before pressing play on the movie.
it was like ten minutes into the film when you could feel him slightly shuffle closer to you, keeping your eyes on the screen pretending it didn't happen. just patiently waiting until he felt comfortable enough to say something.
"can...can we cuddle?" you wordlessly lifted your arm, letting him slip himself under, his head on your chest, the rest of his body lightly pressed to your side.
it was like second nature to you two, whether either one of you had a bad week you'd take turns holding each other. you helped install healthy mannerisms that proved that it was okay for a man to be held because they deserve it too and that it was okay for guys to cry no matter who they're with.
so yes , when he had a rough day he'd often walk up to you and bury his face into your neck, his arms firmly wrapped around you as you cupped the back of his head and rubbed soft circles on his back just letting him know that you were there for him.
with everything he had gone through he deserved all the comfort he could get and if the source was you then so be it.
you would be lying if you said that your heart didn't speed up at the closeness and how his touch on your skin left goosebumps.
trying to be as casual as possible, you raise the hand that was currently wrapped around his shoulders to gently stroke his hair, feeling him physically melt into you calmed your nerves.
feeling your eyelids slowly droop, your hand movements become slower so your palm now laid on the back of his neck, fighting sleep felt so difficult when he was beside you. his presence was so peaceful, comforting even without him saying anything.
the early start of your day hitting even harder now. He won't mind if you rested your eyes for a little bit, right?
stiles noticed the similarities between the two characters to the both of you, but there's no way that you deliberately put this on as a sign? was he reading too deep into it?
when he went to question you about it, lifting his head he was met with you sleeping peacefully. his gaze softened at the sight, gently tucking the piece of hair that fell in front of your face.
"you are so goddamn beautiful and don't even know it, even when you sleep? like can you save some beauty for the rest of us?" he chuckles at his own joke.
"i don't know how long i can keep pretending that i'm not totally in love with you...there really isn't anything that i wouldn't do for you." he whispers and he studies your features.
"it's honestly crazy how i feel your absence in everything that i do when i'm alone, in every place i go without you." he sighs, going to go back to watching the tv.
"you really mean all of that?" you whisper, making him jump back.
"uh- i-i do, but i thought you were asleep?"
"no i was just resting my eyes, but i'm sorta glad that you thought i was for you to finally confess your feelings for me." you smirk at him.
his mouth opens and closes, utterly bewildered at what you just said, "what do you mean finally?"
"You realise that i like you too, right? that i have for the longest time?" stiles eyes now wide, looking even more lost than before.
"you like me? like like me like me?"
sitting up, grasping the back of his neck, "what are you..." pulling him closer, your lips brushing against his. it takes him a second to register the kiss before melting into it. leaning closer to deepen the kiss. his hands brushing over your hips as he laid you down, now hovering over you. your hand running through his hair, tugging at the roots.
you're both now smiling as you share a few more pecks before pulling away. "so you do like me!" he grins, "oh my god. dude yes!"
"ya know if you're gonna be my girlfriend, you're gonna have to calling me dude."
"would you prefer shnookums?"
"that's it!" he pulled away just enough to tickle you.
from that night forth you and stiles had become inseparable, practically connected at the hip. but you wouldn't want it any other way.
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I'm so tired of people saying that the Prince from Snow White is a creep for kissing Snow White when he thought she was dead.
People act as if he put his tongue down her throat while she looks like a regular corpse.
Maybe I'm just more comfortable with death because of my upbringing.
There's a European tradition that you would kiss dead people goodbye. You would also wait with a dying person because dying alone was one of the most horrible ways to die.
In Poland, you would spend three days with the dead body of your relative in the house so family and friends have time to say goodbyes. We even have pictures of family members in coffins, so we could remember them.
Yeah, it's a very post-modern, historically, culturally-small-minded way to look at it.
Specifically in this movie (which is a fairy tale's fairy tale) people just...totally ignore the scene where The Prince is introduced.
Seriously and truthfully, BECAUSE the Prince only takes action in three scenes of the movie, you HAVE to take all three of them very very seriously. Because thats all there is to know about him. That's how fairy tales work: lots of information hiding under very brief, simple snippets of information. It's called nuance.
Anyway.
The Prince kisses Snow White as a culmination of their promised love for each other.
First scene he's in, he falls in love with her because of her obvious purity and he overhears her longing for someone to love her. Then she runs away because she's not sure of him, and doesn't know him. But he sings his part of the song, which is all about how he has just one heart to give, one devotion to spend, and he's choosing to give it and spend it on her if she'll have him.
And she will have him. How do we know? She sends a kiss to him on the dove. That's how the exchange ends; that's how she responds, and that's why he leaves satisfied. It's their engagement scene. They're promising their hearts to each other.
Fast-forward, the Queen messes up what might have been the natural follow-through of that engagement which is marriage by trying to kill Snow White, she's living in the woods, but she won't forget the Prince and wholeheartedly believes he'll come find her.
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And the very next thing we hear about him is that he keeps his promise. He's got one heart, one love, one devotion, and it's promised to Snow White, and he will not stop searching for her. When he finds her, he's returning her kiss from their engagement scene. He thinks she's dead, but he has to finish his quest anyway. This is him, trying to keep his promise even if she's dead; he's trying to fulfill the exchange they had when they saw each other last.
It's ridiculous to assume that she needed to be awake and alive to give permission for him to kiss her; it's ignorant of the whole relationship, symbolic and literal, between these two fairy tale characters. She already sent him her kiss and her heart; he already promised to claim it; he's fulfilling the promise in that scene.
Crazy postmodern people, don't know how to take in a story. Not everything gets to have your socio-cultural lens imposed upon it.
#Snow White and the seven dwarves#little graphic there#asked#answered#true love's kiss#discourse#Snow White.Snow White 2024#Snow White hate#Snow White and the seven dwarves 1937#snow white 1937#disney#classic films#meta#analysis#fairy tales#learn to read fairy tales
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"DEATH COMES RIPPING" - SPOOKY ISSUE
'THE BLACK PARADE, THE TRIUMPHANT NEW ALBUM BY MY CHEMICAL ROMANCE MAY HAVE A TRAGIC STORYLINE, BUT IT'S NOTHING COMPARED WITH WHAT THE BANDMATES ENDURED TO BRING THE DISC TO LIGHT
PHOTOS BY JON WIEDERHORN PHOTOS BY JUSTIN BORUCKI
STANDING ON A BALCONY nine floors above the teeming streets of New York, Gerard Way overlooks the city in which My Chemical Romance began assembling their ambitious new album, The Black Parade. The newly peroxide- blond frontman takes a deep drag from a cigarette and exhales with a sigh. He knows he shouldn't smoke, but it's his only remaining vice.
"If I hadn't been sober, I think The Black Parade surely would have killed me," says Gerard, who climbed on the wagon in 2004. "We were going insane the whole time, and I had to cling to my sobriety to stay even a little lucid. The album became like this beast that was consuming us."
Following up a release as successful as 2004's Three Cheers for Sweet Revenge, which sold 1.4 million copies in the U.S. alone, is never an easy task. And the various scares the band experienced as they worked on the new record-drummer Bob Bryar had a near-fatal staph infection, Gerard seriously injured his foot, and some restless spirits at the studio where they recorded kept them all on edge-did not help matters. And neither
did MCR's decision to make The Black Parade (Reprise) a concept disc. Together, Gerard and his bandmates-Bryar, guitarists Frank lero and Ray Toro, and bassist Mikey Way (Gerard's younger brother)-decided to craft a record about a dying young man who is visited by a cast of strange characters that help him examine his short life.
But diving into the conceptual deep end proved well worth the hassle. The Black Parade is not only MCR's most realized offering; it's also one of the most eclectic, enjoyable rock records of the year. One listen to tracks
like "House of Wolves," "The Sharpest Lives," and "Dead!" makes it clear that My Chemical Romance can still rip a good metallic punk tune. But the bandmates are now equally influenced by epic albums like Pink Floyd's The Wall, David Bowie's The Rise & Fall of Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders From Mars, and Queen's A Night at the Opera.
"A lot of bands from the scene we came from try to strip down their music to 'keep it real," Gerard notes. "But the real you is what you've always had inside you and what you strive to be. So when we started compiling the material we had written, we were like, You know what? This has to be a huge, theatrical record."
MY CHEMICAL ROMANCE started working on ideas for The Black Parade in the back of the bus while on 2005's Warped Tour, after which they flew to New York and rented a rehearsal space for two months. And that's when things started to get weird.
"I was living in Queens, and I had to commute on the subway every day," Gerard says. "I was suddenly very scared and paranoid. I felt more like an outsider than I ever had, and I had no confidence, which is bad when you're trying to work on a record. And I had no anonymity because there were a lot of teenagers on the train." In reaction to the young fans he encountered on the underground,
Gerard wrote "Teenagers," a T. Rex-style romp with the chorus line, "Teenagers scare the living shit out of me." "The song came directly from commuting when school let out and being so terrified of them," the singer says. "I was like, Wait a minute. These are the same people that listen to our band. Why am I scared? And I realized it was because they're scared, too. Teenagers are made to feel like they can only solve their problems with violence. They lash out at each other in a really volatile way." After several months experiencing the joys of mass transit, MCR had completed only a handful of songs and felt like a change of scenery (and climate) might do them some good. "I couldn't keep working in New York," says Gerard. "We wanted isolation."
id: Gerard leads the way to what will likely be the band's second platinum record
So the group relocated to Paramour Mansion, outside of L.A. Nestled high in the hills, the deluxe estate overlooks the trendy Silver Lake area and boasts spacious rooms, a gorgeous pool, lush gardens, a state-of-the-art recording facility-and a few special guests.
"The place is definitely haunted," Gerard says. "Doors would slam, and the faucets would turn on. You'd get a bath drawn for you of freezing-cold water in your room, and you wouldn't know why." As unnerving as its mischievous spirits could be, the Paramour was also inspiring, and contributed to the haunting vibe of songs like "The End" and "This Is How I Disappear." More important, it led Gerard to come up with the bleak, surreal concept for the record. "I would have these night terrors, where it would feel like someone was choking me, and my heart would stop and I would stop breathing," he says. "I would wake up in the middle of the night and write these notes to myself, and one of them read, 'We are all just a black parade.' So I started thinking about how this band is kind of a black parade, like a funeral-procession rock thing. And I used that idea to piece together this story about the idea that when you die, death comes for you however you want." Gerard molded his concept into a narrative about a character he dubbed the Patient, whose strongest memory from childhood is of his father taking him to the city to see a parade. Two songs into the album, he dies, and the black parade comes for him.
"During the rest of the story, he meets this entity of death and all these characters, like Mama, who represents anyone who's ever lost their son in a war," Gerard explains. "It's almost like these Canterbury Tales, where he goes along on this journey, and at the end he decides whether he wants to live or die." With the concept in place, My Chem made the songs as sweeping and theatrical as Gerard's lyrics. They accomplished this, in part, by combing through their own eclectic record collections and pulling choice elements that would set them even further apart from other melodic punk bands.
The first two minutes of "Welcome to the Black Parade" stemmed from Gerard's love for Broadway musicals, the horns in "Dead!" came from Mikey's interest in Blur and Britpop, and the jaunty feel of "Mama" was informed by Tom Waits and Nick Cave. But the most poignant moment on the record, "Cancer," was (unlike its morbid moniker) something of a pleasant surprise. "I was very upset about something in my personal life, and that's when that song came out," Gerard says. "It was really spontaneous, and it was recorded pretty much live with Rob [Cavallo, the record's producer] on the piano and me in the vocal booth. Then we added layers of drums, which gave it a certain urgency. It's the song I'm most proud of because it was the most pure emotion we've ever captured, and it gets such an immediate response. You can't shake what the song is about."
As the CD approached completion, some members of the band began to show signs of nervous exhaustion. The group was scheduled to fly to England to play the Reading Festival, and as the date grew near, Toro, who has a fear of flying, got noticeably agitated. Then, after the band tracked "Welcome to the Black Parade," which was originally called "The Five of Us Are Dying," the guitarist lost it.
"I thought I had this premonition," Toro explains. "I was flipping through the TV channels, and on the news. there would be something about a plane crash, and every time I woke up in the morning, the clock would say 9:11. I was playing Tomb Raider the night before the flight, and on the level I ended up at, there was this whole flashback to a plane crash. So right before the flight I was like, 'That's it. I'm not flying."
Despite his misgivings, Toro boarded the plane, and when My Chemical Romance returned to L.A. (all of them still very much alive, thank you very much), The Black Parade was completed without further incident. Listening back to the record, the band members were in awe of what they had achieved and eager to share it with their fans. "There was a real confidence that came to us," Gerard explains. "Having survived it, we felt like we were changed forever. I feel different as a performer now, and I think we really finally discovered who we were as a band." But just because MCR were done with the record didn't mean that it was done with them. About a month later, the band was shooting a video for "Famous Last Words" with director Samuel Bayer (Garbage, Smashing Pumpkins) on a set featuring walls of flame, when-seized by the moment-lero grabbed Gerard's throat from behind and wrestled him to the ground. The singer rolled one way; his foot went the other. "It bent completely backwards, and I heard a crack and felt this agonizing pain," Gerard recalls. "I tore all the ligaments in my foot, but I got up and continued to perform." "I didn't know what I was doing," says lero, shaking his head. "I wasn't trying to hurt him. I felt awful. I still do." Gerard's injury was serious, and he still walks with a cane, but it paled in comparison to what happened to Bryar. At the end of the shoot, the pyro was so intense, the drummer could feel his leg burning, but he stuck it out for the rest of the song. By then, he had a nasty third-degree burn. And the misfortune didn't stop there. Bryar didn't take his antibiotics regularly, and he failed to keep the wound clean. By the time the band got back from a brief tour of Japan, the burn was severely infected. Then Bryar's face swelled up and, after doing the MTV Video Music Awards preshow telecast and a special club show, stumbled into a hospital emergency room in intense pain. "I thought I'd be there for 10 minutes, but as soon as they saw me, they got all serious and gave me an IV and said they had to do a CAT scan," recalls Bryar."They did all these blood tests and kept me there for 14 hours." Doctors discovered that Bryar's leg infection had spread to his blood and caused an abscess in his face that was creeping dangerously close to his brain. If it had been left untreated for another two days, he could have died. "The whole thing was such a nightmare," Bryar says. "This doctor stuck my cheek with a needle about six inches long and the width of an IV tube. Then he went in and out of the inside of my mouth with the needle about 10 times. Fortunately, the treatment worked, and Bryar left the hospital three days later. With tragedy averted, My Chem are now focusing on touring for The Black Parade. They'll be in Europe for most of November, and when they get back at the end of year, they'll start rehearsing for a U.S. arena tour that starts in February. "We want to put on a full show with props and staging like The Wall," Gerard says. And MCR plan to keep the Patient alive long after they're done touring for the CD. "I would love to see the story turned into a play or a musical, and it could easily be a movie," enthuses Gerard. "Making this record, we cut ourselves open every day, pulled out every organ, and lay them on a table so it would be something we're completely happy with. We want The Black Parade to exist for a long time." "The whole hole thing nightmare. This doctor stuck my cheek with a needle about six inches long and the width of an IV tube." -BOB BRYAR
"I felt more like an outsider than I ever had, and I had no confidence, which is bad when you're trying work on a record."
-GERARD WAY
12/2006 revolver - mcrhollywood on flickr
#a spooky mcr for spooky year#sleep lore#black parade production#the paramour#the paramour 2006#black parade era#12/2006 revolver#mcrhollywood.blogspot.com#my chemical romance#gerard way#mcr#frank iero#ray toro#mcr scans#scans
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HOME (TO THE OL’ BALL AND CHAIN)
(OR, THE PIÑA COLADA SONG)
Pairing: Chilchuck Tims x Fem!Chilchuck's Wife!Reader Word Count: 2,499 words Warnings: None Summary: Five years after leaving your first and only love, you take the plunge into the dating scene – and immediately regret it. Maybe you're too picky, but none of the men you go out with seem to fit the bill; they're too non-committal, or too eager, or too happy, or too sad, or simply just too much ... so after a particularly bad experience, your youngest makes a last-ditch effort to set you up on a blind date with someone who she insists deserves a chance. You reluctantly agree. read on ao3 | read on quotev
DATE #1: CASUAL LUNCH Estranged husband — 1 Estranged wife — 1 Everything left unsaid — as desired
There’s bacon grease on his shirt.
You can see it underneath his collar, round fingerprints staining the pale linen grey, and when he leans across the threshold into Fler’s home all you can think about is laundry day at the end of the week.
It would be rude to admit that out loud, though.
“Thank you for walking me home,” you say.
“When can I see you again?”
“I don’t know.”
Abelwood teeters forward still. “Well, don’t take too long, hear? You ain’t gettin’ any younger.”
Laughter erupts from the beer in his gut, and you laugh along with him. Abelwood is a rowdy drunk, you’ve learned, which is better than a cruel drunk or a lecherous drunk. It is not the kind of drunk that you are used to bringing home, even if he is only brought to the front door, but –
You smile, regardless.
“Goodnight,” you bid, closing the door inch by inch, your last bit of energy disappearing with the click of the lock.
You hold your breath. It takes three minutes and thirty-seven seconds for the man to leave your front doorstep, and you wait thirty more seconds after that to peek through the window, verifying that he is far enough away before resting your forehead against the door with a groan.
“Oh, boy.”
“I’m too old for this, Fler,” you mutter into the wood. “He was awful.”
Flertom lets out a sigh and closes the distance to squeeze you in a hug, pressing her cheek against your back like she’s done ever since she grew tall enough to do so. “I’m sorry, Mama,” she says.
“I’m sorry too.”
As you pat her hands and turn around to smile wryly at her, Puckpatti pipes up from the middle of the living room.
“He was a pig,” she exclaims. “Calling you by your first name! And he wasn’t even that handsome!”
“Looks aren’t everything, Puck,” you reply sharply, and she pouts, squeezing the lump of clay in her hands until it squishes out between her fingers. “He was a pig for the way he acted.”
“Well … that too.”
“He also smelled like one,” Fler says.
You detach yourself from your daughter to loosen the belt at your waist, frowning down at your dress and nice leather shoes. The dress feels just about as worn out as you do, the fabric soft and droopy from the humidity, the sunshine-yellow color less vibrant than it had been earlier this evening. The man had spilled beer on the floor of the bar and your shoes still look slightly sticky. Peeling them off just reminds you of the way he had laughed.
“Fler,” you say, “get me a wet rag, would you?”
“Sure, Mama.” Flertom turns to Puckpatti. “Puck, get a wet rag.”
“My hands are all dirty!” your youngest protests, showing her grey palms. “Mei’s closer to the water bucket.” She points to Meijack, who you now notice lingering by the kitchen.
Meijack blinks slowly, then silently fetches a rag, wets it, and brings it to you.
“Are you gonna keep trying, Ma?” she asks while you scrub the heel of your left shoe. “All these guys seem to be wasting your time.”
The chuckle that leaves your mouth is short and dry. “After this one, I don’t think so.” You glance up at your daughters and smile, straightening. “Maybe I should just take you all out on a girls’ date next time, huh? Forget about men for a little while.”
Meijack shrugs. Puckpatti nods eagerly.
“I just don’t know what’s wrong,” Flertom frets. “I’ve seen most of them at work before, and they seemed nice enough even when they were drunk …”
You shrug hopelessly and cross into the living room to sit on the couch. “Maybe it’s me.” As you lean back into the cushions, Meijack and Flertom join you on either side. “I’ve only ever been with one man my whole life. Maybe I don’t even know what I want …”
There’s a moment of silence. You look up at the ceiling of Flertom’s home, rubbing your temples and willing your frustration with yourself to not spill over while your daughters are watching. How embarrassing. Here you are, their mother, who is supposed to show them an example of a happy relationship, only for them to comfort you after another failed date. It should be the other way around. Half-foots don’t live long enough for things like this; your own mother had told you when you first left him that you should’ve just sucked it up.
Finally, Flertom speaks up. “Mama,” she starts, hesitant, and you look over to see her playing with her fingers, “Do you really want to date someone?”
“It’s been long enough, don’t you think?” you answer.
As you say so, a name resurfaces in your mind, unbidden, and the face that belongs to it. Your jaw tightens and you look down at your hands.
“Well … um … Papa wrote last week, and he said that he wanted to talk to you sometime. Just a little bit.”
Your tone hardens. “And what does that have to do with me dating, Fler?”
She flinches and her lips push out. “Come on, Mama! It’s been years, and after everything he went through, I really think he’s better now! Don’t you at least want to talk to him? You were so in love with each other before he started adventuring, and now that he’s retired from it …”
You hold your hand up, and her jaw clicks shut.
“I know what you’re getting at, Flertom,” you say quietly. “And right now is not the best time to bring up your father.”
Your daughter deflates, her cheeks rosy. “But –”
“I mean it.” Standing, you heave a deep breath and examine the cluttered workstation that Puckpatti had set up on the living room table. “Puckpatti, make sure to clean up after you’re done. I’m going to bed.”
While the girls mope, you head to your bedroom, doing your best to occupy your thoughts with work at the blacksmith’s tomorrow. You think about the chain mail you’re supposed to be making, the little metal rings to form and weave together, and hope they’re what you dream of, not self-absorbed dates or unwanted kisses.
You blame Flertom for the auburn hair and hearty laughs that plague your night instead.
—
A week later, Puckpatti accosts you as soon as you walk through the door.
“Mama, I found a man for you!”
“Oh?” you reply blandly, hand still clutching at your chest from having the living daylights scared out of it. “Who is it?”
“That’s a secret! But he’s really nice, I promise.”
Sighing, you remove your vest. “I don’t know, Puck. How did you meet him?”
“He bought one of my clay sticks.” You can’t stop yourself from frowning, despite your desire to support your daughter’s entrepreneurial spirit, and she giggles. “Oh, please, Mama, he didn’t believe my pitch. I think I just charmed him into buying it. He seems really clever!”
“Are you sure he wasn’t interested in you?”
She makes a disgusted face. “Eww! No, I told him about you and he seemed interested.”
“Oh, really?”
“Mama, you’re a catch. Of course he’d want to go on a date with you.”
“That’s sweet of you to say, honey.” You glance at her before heading to the kitchen to put away the bread and cheese you’d bought. “Is he a half-foot?”
“Maybe.”
“I thought I’d met all the half-foots in Kahka Brud.”
“Maybe he just moved here.”
She looks up innocently when you raise an eyebrow at her. “And you’re sure I’ll like him,” you drawl, more suspicious by the minute. (Of what, you’re not quite sure.)
“Positive.”
It is incredibly difficult, you think with equal parts pride and concern, to say no to your youngest daughter. It’s probably why you worry about her the most. “This is the last date I’ll go on, Puckpatti. It will be on you.”
Puckpatti cheers. She hugs you as you chuckle at her enthusiasm, jumping up and down. “Yay! I’ll get a time and day that’ll work best. It’ll be great! You’ll love him!”
“For your sake, I hope so.”
—
The day arrives with a mellow sun and clear sky.
You wear your green dress with the floral details, and Puckpatti picks a necklace to go along with it, a thin, simple one that you haven’t worn in years. Flertom does your makeup and Meijack does your hair.
And as you sit in a corner of the tavern fifteen minutes early, hands nervously clasped in your lap, you wonder, just as you have with every date prior, what you’ve gotten yourself into.
Maybe he won’t show up. It would be improper, and juvenile, but then you could go home and say that you did try. Your desire for a new romance has all but dwindled completely, and as you trace the scratches on the wooden table, you wonder if it was even a desire at all.
Footsteps approach from behind. You can tell they belong to a half-foot by the weight and sound – light and small – as they come around to the other side of the table. Your shoulders tighten. Forcing a smile, you look up.
Your heart promptly surges upward into your throat before plummeting to your toes.
Chilchuck gawks down at you, eyes wide. His mouth parts to utter your full name, and you feel your lungs squeeze at how it sounds coming from him, soft from years of disuse.
“You came,” he says.
“Chil – Chilchuck.” His name is ashy and sweet behind your teeth. “What are you doing here?”
He furrows his brow. “What do you mean? The girls said that you were willing to meet up.”
“No, I’m meeting with one of Puck’s customers.”
“What? That doesn’t …” he trails off, and the two of you seem to realize the same thing at the same time.
You bury your head in your hand as Chilchuck grits his teeth.
Those scheming …
“I’m sorry they dragged you into this,” you mutter as you get up from your seat, your voice cold and flat. “I’ll be going now.”
His head snaps up. “Going? But –”
You hurry past him, dodging the hand that you know has reached out for your own.
Home is a ten-minute walk away. You can clear your head in that time, then scold your daughters for meddling, though it’s partially your fault for not questioning Puckpatti about your supposed date more thoroughly. You just didn’t think that they would try something like this.
(Or that Chilchuck would bother to go along with it.)
You pull the door open with some effort and rush out into a downpour of rain.
Your hair gets drenched before you backpedal with a yelp. Pressing against the wall underneath the awning, you look out helplessly at the soaked streets, their gutters already filling with water and debris flowing down the incline. Is … is that a drowning rat?
The storm’s earthiness floods your nose, late in its prediction by half an hour. Just your luck.
You fumble with the clasp of your necklace to remove it, not wanting to get it wet. While you struggle, the tavern door creaks open behind you.
“So you don’t even want to talk. Even after all these years, you’re going to walk away again.”
“Do you know why I walked away the first time?” The damn thing won’t unhook. You scowl, the presence at your back making your usually nimble fingers clumsy.
“No,” Chilchuck says. “I don’t. Not for certain.”
“That’s why.” With each failed attempt to separate the rings, your fingertips grow sorer, your throat thickening. He’s too close. You hate how he’s watching you fail such a simple task. “You stopped knowing, Chilchuck. That’s why.”
Underneath the sharp sound of rain, you can hear his breath hitch, then quiet.
You bite your lip and let your arms fall to your sides, giving up on trying to take your necklace off. Your chest aches. You don’t want to cry in front of him.
“So, there, we talked like you wanted.”
He stops you before you can step out into the rain.
“Wait. What … what about your necklace?” he asks hesitantly, like it’s not what he really wants to say, but merely a way to stall for time.
This time, you look over your shoulder at him. “I’ll dry it real well once I get home,” you reply.
Chilchuck’s mouth presses into a fine line. He grabs the cloak folded over the crook of his elbow, and it is then that you notice the bouquet of blue and pink flowers in his other hand. The ache in your chest flares into a raw, pulsing hurt.
“I’m guessing you’d rather not have me walk you.” He speaks evenly, holding his cloak out towards you. “It’s not completely waterproof, but keep this over your head, at least …” his voice quiets, “please.”
Wordlessly, you take the garment from him. The inner lining is warm against your skin.
“I’m sorry,” he tells you. “For not knowing.” His fist tightens around the flowers, and he stares at you resolutely. “I want to again, if you’ll let me.”
Ah.
You swallow. “I … I don’t know.”
“It doesn’t have to be today. I can wait.”
Breaking eye contact and looking down, Chilchuck roughs his fingers through his hair, mussing it up. The cut is the same as it’s always been, auburn bangs thick and soft over his brow. And you recognize the shirt he’s wearing, a practical, clean wool shirt that you made some years ago. He’s taken good care of it.
It’s all the same. All the same, and yet, something that you can’t quite identify has changed.
You bring his cloak closer to your chest and bite your bottom lip.
“… Give me a week.”
His entire body loses its tension.
“Really?” He looks at you like he can’t believe it, and you avert your gaze, ears warming and moving back the slightest bit.
“Give me a week to decide,” you clarify. “Fler or Mei will let you know … this is really abrupt, after all …”
Chilchuck nods. “That’s fine!” he exclaims. “You didn’t know, so I understand. A week is – a week’s good.”
You nod back, hesitant.
The rain continues its heavy downpour.
“Right … well …” you turn slightly, casting him one last glance, “I’ll give your cloak back, regardless. Don’t get sick.”
“Okay. Stay … stay safe.”
With that, you wrap yourself in the thick fabric, rushing out of the safety of the awning. The run back home smells of woodsmoke and thyme, and when you open the door to three guilty daughters and three apologies, it lingers.
You hang his cloak near the fireplace. It’s evidence of a weak resolve that you stay until it’s dry, and even more damning that you know your answer long before it is.
#dungeon meshi#delicious in dungeon#dunmeshi#chilchuck tims x reader#chilchuk tims#chilchuck x reader#chilchuck#dungeon meshi fanfiction#reader insert#fem!reader#my emotional support middle-aged divorced father of three.......#throw this guy in a childhood friends to lovers to estranged lovers to lovers fic and see how he handles it#chilchuck's wife!reader let's gooooo
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Hi! I wasnt exactly sure if you’re taking request but i was hoping for something with Lucifer and a babysitter reader. Maybe they baby sat Charlie, and they just have a lot of tension. And then maybe them reuniting after him and lilith have split and it all goes down 👀
Love your slowburny Lucifer fics 🙏🙏
!!!
First off, thank you! I'm really glad you enjoy my stuff! I've been struggling with writing recently, so your request was perfectly timed lol
Also Yes! I'm always taking requests!
Plus, it's such a good request.. so good, I had way too many ideas for how it could go. So - this is a 2 parter >:) Suffer
CW: No smut yet, just suggestive fluff for now
(Edit- This series is complete! All parts are on my master list and I'll tag them here aa well!)
Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6
Suffer | Lucifer x Reader
It really was a happy day in Hell when the royals introduced an heir to the throne. A darling daughter, who was the first of her kind; A hellborn baby, birthed by a sinner and an archangel. No one really knew what to expect or what kind of powers she held. But they had to be immense. She had to be some kind of beast, based on her genes alone. In theory.
One look at her, all swaddled up in her mother's arms, Lucifer fell in love all over again. Sure, he was ecstatic to hear that he was having a child, but he didn't realize how much of an effect she’d have on him. She was an absolute angel. Mostly. Great powers must be controlled, and that isn't exactly something an infant can comprehend. It was innocent at first, with little fireworks coming from fingertips, toys being lost in portals, and horns and tails emerging during temper tantrums. Nothing a good nanny couldn't fix.
That’s what Lillith’s mindset was, at least. It was a heated debate between the married couple, with Lucifer arguing a child needs to be loved and adored by their parents. He was willing to put in the time, why wasn't she? Of course, Lilith was a busy demon, with the whole empowering demonkind with her voice and songs thing, but too busy to handle her own baby?
“She’s gonna be an adult before we know it. Can’t you spend a few decades seeing her grow up..?” Lillith delicately takes her cutlery to her mouth, picking at the dinner she shared with her husband, who was seated on the other end of their lengthy table.
“Unlike you, my love, I have duties to attend to. Someone has to keep things running smoothly, to keep every demon’s hopes as high as they can be. You remember what it was like falling, being all alone and left in an unfamiliar world? I wouldn't want anyone else to feel that way. Would you?” He hated to agree, but did so anyway. She always knew what to say to make him feel guilty. Either way, she was right. He really didn't do much nowadays. He worked in his shop more, his newborn daughter becoming a great source of inspiration, but Lillith handled most of the publicity. Which, in Hell, is one of the only purposes for royalty. Lucifer didn't need to create life anymore, Hellborn creations were multiplying just fine. Probably a little too much, actually. He had all the free time in the world to shower his daughter with affection.
“ I mean..! I guess not, but they're filthy little demons, and this is your daughter! You want to leave her in the hands of some stranger? It’s just.. not right..! She needs a mother, Lily!” He was clearly passionate about this. Slamming his fists on the table, he sent ripples through the poured wine in front of Lillith’s plate.
“Lucifer. You’re causing a scene.” He hated when she said that, too. And again, he shrunk back in his seat, keeping his mouth shut. They had been drifting apart for a while, the distance not doing them any favors. He had no interest in interacting with demonkind and was fully comfortable with letting Lillith take that on, so they became more distant as she tended to Hell’s growing population.
When she rose from her seat, he finally perked up, hoping to meet her eyes. She was already halfway out of the room. “I’ll do all the work, darling, not to worry. I’ll make sure any candidate is thoroughly interviewed and trained, I promise.” Her voice was reassuring, even with the heartless subject matter. Leaving Lucifer alone in the room with some imps that usually stand along the walls, he spotted her almost untouched plate. pushing away from the table, he nearly knocked his heavy, ornamented chair onto the ground and left through another exit.
—
“Oh, Charlie.. Your mother loves you very much.” He swung the bundled-up baby in his arms, reveling in the sound of her giggles. Pressing a quick kiss to her forehead, he placed her carefully in her golden crib. Standing over her, he leaned onto the railing, watching her large red eyes flutter shut. “And.. I will shelter and adore you, sweetheart. I love you, more than anything.” He wiped a little tear that began to well up in his eye when he spoke and struggled to finally pull himself away. Protecting himself from his intrusive thoughts, he held his arms across his chest and turned to leave her nursery.
“Aww, that was so sweet..” The figure leaning in the doorframe caused him to let out a startled yelp. “Who the Hell.. You have to leave, whoever you are.” He became immediately defensive, holding his hand away from the crib in some form of protection, but he still spoke in a hushed voice. If you were just an imp he wouldn't be as worked up, but you were a sinner. A sinner who suddenly appeared in his daughter’s room. “O-oh! Um, sorry, I thought the queen would’ve.. I’m your new nanny..?” You let out a nervous chuckle, shrugging your tensed shoulders. And now? You’re admitting you're the very demon who’ll be raising his daughter alongside him. He dropped his arms, letting out a scoff, clearly unenthused. Looking you up and down, he stood there staring daggers. After a moment of awkward silence, you held out your hand to shake his, but he didn’t respond to it.
“What are your qualifications? Where did you come from? What makes you think you’re worthy of laying hands on my daughter? The princess of Hell?” He circled you, in an attempt to intimidate you, despite his small stature. “Well, um... When I was alive, I was the oldest kid at the foster house I grew up in. It wasn’t the best facility, so I basically raised most of the girls there.. I’ve seen it all, I guarantee.” You tried to lighten the mood with a quick smile, but it didint do much. “And Lillith approves of you?” You nodded, gripping the hem of your skirt nervously. “Hm. I am not as easily swayed as my wife. She’s my daughter, too. You’ll have to do better than - “ An ear-piercing wale comes from behind him. The commotion must've woken Charlie up. “Oh! No no nono..” His demonic presence faded to reveal what he really was. A father. He scooped her up and cooed, hushing her and swaying her slowly. It did nothing to help. That’s when another fact clicked in your mind; he wasn’t just a father, he was a new father. He lets out a nervous groan, wiping tears away from her heated cheeks.
“Your majesty..?” You slowly approached him, both of you still on edge. “May I?” He was clearly still debating the idea, but another loud wail had him hesitantly passing the swaddled child to your arms. He had such a light hold on her, you noticed his hands trembling when he finally released her into your grasp. You held her close, her front against your chest as you hummed in a low tone a little tune. You picked up a little trick, the vibrations from your chest helped calm her down. The action of swaying the baby and engrossing yourself in the little song running through your head actually calmed the both of you. You still spoke softly, in a low tone, “Thank you, sir. For trusting me with her, i mean. I’ll be here for anything you need. Anything she needs.” You sent him a warm smile. He simply nodded his head slowly, still witnessing the miracle that is someone with experience caring for a child. Maybe this could work out.. What could go wrong?
—
“I’m gonna getcha!” A high-pitched giggle filled the corridors of the manor, Lucifer rounds the corner to follow after his surprisingly speedy toddler. He was mostly having fun with this little game of tag but was also mildly concerned by her growing distance. “Gotcha!” A pair of arms swooped down from around another corner, scooping Charlie up as she let out a playful yelp. You held her in a tight hug, before adjusting your position to hold her up comfortably. Lucifer panted, smiling at the sight of you and his daughter, despite him being out of breath. “G-good catch.. Hoof..!” He stretches his arms upwards, then places them on the small of his back. “Aren’t you the most powerful being in Hell? Why are you acting like a middle-aged dad with a broken back?” you laughed through your words, the sound making Charlie laugh along. He stood up straight and crossed his arms over his chest, a pout on his face. “Uh, It’s for fun? Ever heard of playing pretend?” You bit your lip to prevent yourself from mocking him anymore. “Don’t laugh!” You shook your head, then watched him open his arms out to you. Or, to Charlie, actually, but you stepped back instead of handing her over. “Oh, I forgot to remind you, you actually have to head to the Heaven Embassy in a bit, so I’m gonna put Charlie down for her nap instead.” He dropped his arms and grimaced. “Right..”
This mid-day nap was a sort of tradition for Lucifer and his daughter. It was one of the few moments that Lucifer looked forward to these days. You knew that. As much as you enjoyed your job, it came with the unfortunate privilege of seeing Lucifer in his slumps. You rarely saw Lillith, actually, but that made sense. You were only here for Charlie while Lillith couldnt be. When you did spot her iin passing, you’d hand Charlie over and let the two of them have a sweet interaction, usually a quick hug and peck on the forehead, but that was usually it. You’d always notice Charlie clinging onto your shoulder and looking back in her mother’s direction whenever she handed her daughter back to you. It always crushed your heart to hear her go silent after those moments.
“Actually, I was wondering if you’d want to help get her ready for the gala tonight? You should be back in time and it won't take long. Lilith only wants her to make a quick appearance, so it shouldn't be too much work.. Good bonding moment, too!” His eyes sparkled at your invitation and he was quick to accept it. “Thank you, dear. I’ll find you after that meeting.” As he goes to walk past you, he places a hand on your back. He does this often, but as the years went on, it shifted from your shoulder to your shoulderblade, and now he delicately places his hand on your lower back whenever he can. It made you anxious at first.. Was anxious the right word? Either way, you didn't stop him.
He leaned in to place a kiss on Charlie’s forehead, becoming increasingly close to your own face. It wasn't a quick motion. He pressed a dramatic kiss onto her head, letting out a mwah! sound as he pulled back. But before he did, he looked up to you with half-lidded eyes. The eye contact seemed to last forever. And you ever wanted it to stop. A small hand came up and patted Lucifer’s cheek, a childish giggle breaking the moment between you two. What were you thinking? He’s your employer, he’s a king. He’s kind, and sweet, and tries really hard to be a good dad. Nope! Stop it.
“Right! Meeting! Heaven! Gonna.. Yup, I’ll see you.. Uh..” You finished off his words, “ - tonight?”
“Exactly! You got it! Bye, Darling!” He waved his hand off and walked off in a random direction that you were pretty sure didn't lead to where he was supposed to go. “I-I was talking to Charlie, by the way!” You heard from around the corner. You couldn’t stop your laughter with that one. “I know.” You said it softly, not letting him hear the slight disappointment in your voice.
The Gala wasn't a new event, Lillith held them often. Lucifer made his appearance with Charlie, then usually would make up some excuse to get out of the room. Gathering the leaders of each ring of Hell and some of the more powerful overlords, and demons, it was still a big deal. You dressed up Charlie often, since she would throw a temper tantrum when any of the stylists would try to get her ready. You didn't mind, you actually enjoyed prettying her up. You stalled for as long as you could, before beginning to dress her. You wanted to wait for Lucifer, but you assumed he got caught up in some kingly duties. It wasn’t that big of a deal. Don’t be upset. Stop missing him.
“Sorry - Sorry! I'm here!” The blonde demon rounds the corner, hopping on his one foot to balance himself before stopping firmly in Charlie's room. He was wearing an incredibly elegant suit. A dark purple sash cinches His waist, which was only visible because his jacket was hung over his shoulder. His shirt was speckled in gold, matching his hair when under certain light. “Had to convince them I could finish getting ready on my own! Damn stylists, can't catch a break with them.” He let out an awkward laugh, followed by a hoot. He sees Charlie, in her dark purple dress, with small poofed out sleeves, made of a transparent tool. “Charchar! Look at you, kiddo!” He scooped her up and held her close while he swung around. “You're beautiful, sweetheart.” He knew she wouldn't understand that until she was older, but never stopped him from praising her.
He pressed his forehead against hers, laughing along with her. You hated to break the tender moment, but you cleared your throat, bringing the attention back to you. “She's just about ready, just got her hair left.” He placed her back in the chair as you went for a brush. Working through her hair piece by piece, Lucifer suddenly stopped you. “Um.. can I try?” You nodded eagerly, handing the brush over. He swiped slowly, ebing startled by the crunch of a knot, he froze and pulled it away. “It’s okay, you won't hurt her - “ You didn't need to help him this way. Honestly, if anyone were to come in and witness this you could be fired. Still keeping that in mind, you place your hand over his, and guide the brush indirectly, to carefully work through her hair.
After far too long, you pulled your hand away and went to grab some other accessories. His brain was completely fried by the interaction, if this were some looney cartoon, smoke would be puffing out his ears. You weren't as calm as you were coming off as either. Why did you do that? You’d face a fate worse than a second death if anyone saw that. After letting your face cool down, you turned back and bumped Lucifer over with your hip, to take his spot directly behind Charlie. Placing your hands on her shoulders and kneeling down a bit you smile at her reflection. “What do we think, hun? Ponytail? Pigtails? Buns?”
“Braids!” You look at her with a questioning hum. “Pleease!” Braids it is. You start to section off her hair and quickly wrap one clean braid down her back. It only took you a few minutes to do it, leaving bystander Lucifer to sit in awe. He did that a lot. Whenever you’d do something with Charlie that came as second nature to you, he would watch intently. After you noticed his gaze, you began showing him how to do whatever task you had on hand. He needed those moments with her, you knew that. “Wanna give it a shot?” He jumps, as if you had just caught him doing something he shouldn't be doing. “A-Are you sure? It looks kind of complicated, I don't want to ruin her hair if - “ You interrupted his nervous rambling by calling out his title. “I’ll show you, just come watch.” He nodded, almost too quickly, and rushed to stand near you. Very near you. He stood close enough to let your shoulders touch whenever you would lift your arm a certain way. You unfurled the braid you had already done, making Lucifer let out a little sound of disappointment, that you’d ruined your hard work just for him. After attempting to explain it, he manages to struggle his way through a messy braid. He saw you holding in some kind of laugh and sent you daggers. “No - no! It’s good! Especially for your first time, it’s holding up pretty well! Here - “ You pulled the braid back out, then restarted it, letting him pick it up at an easier place. You took his wrists every so often, to turn his hand in the proper direction before letting him go on.
The focus between the two of you suddenly became intense. He stuck out his tongue a bit, too engrossed in his styling to notice. You stood behind him, your hands pressed on his back, while you stood on your tip toes to observe what he was doing from over his shoulder. Pointing out little pieces of hair that were falling out, you would reach out your pointer finger to gesture towards it, only bringing you a bit closer together.
“Is.. Is that it?” He stepped back slowly, giving you the chance to back away with him. You swung around and examined the braid that he had probably spent too much time on, with an overly dramatic hum. Tapping your chin and squinting your eyes, you researched the braid as if it were some puzzle to solve. “It looks great, Lucifer.” Looking towards him, you were expecting an overly confident grin at the acknowledged accomplishment but instead, was met with a wide-eyed bundle of nerves.
“Sir! I-It looks good, Sir! Well - I’ll let you finish getting ready and take Charlie to -” Reaching out your hands to pick Charlie up, Lucifer stops you by grabbing your arm. “It’s okay! I mean, that’s.. That’s my name! Makes sense for you to call me that, considering its my name, so - “ He lets you go and starts fiddling with the clasps on his sleeves. “It’s okay.. for you to do that..” You smile to yourself, going back to tidying up Charlie’s get-up, doing little things like putting on her darling little shoes and tying a ribbon at the end of her hair.
Lucifer then stood in front of the mirror, brushing off his shirt and slipping on his jacket. It was a dazzling plum-colored suit coat, with golden clasps across his torso, and a golden shoulder plate, that allowed a sheer cape to drape down his left side. He was absolutely stunning. You did your best to avert your eyes, staring at him felt like staring at the sun. You only turned in his direction when he cleared his throat to get your attention. “Sorry.. dear, but uh… If you’re done with Charlie, I just - I’m struggling a little bit here..” You watched him attempt to adjust his lopsided tie, finally drooping his head with a sigh of defeat. “Wow, I thought you wore one of those every day, what’s the problem?” The teasing always helped lighten the mood, you placed your hand on your hip as you leaned your weight onto the vanity. He glared at you again, letting out a huff before mumbling under his breath. “It’s a clip on..”
You let out a breath you had been holding in, partially from keeping in your laughter, but mostly from the nerves. With the combination of you wearing house slippers, and him wearing his particularly taller pair of boots, he managed to look down at you when you approached him. You should've made it a quick motion, you’ve tied bowties dozens of times, so it definitely wasn't a new task for you. But instead, you took your time. You carefully traced your hands up to his neck, tugging on both ends to pull it as far forward as it could go. You stopped to straighten the collar of his shirt, then delicately knotted the tie with ease. Your breath became heavier when you rested your hands on the finally tied bow, feeling his heart pounding against the side of your palm. After he caught you in your act, he stepped back, the image of his wife suddenly popping into his head. “Ahha.. Well, um - Thank you. I’ll take Charlie, it’s about that time anyway!”
"R-Right.." you suddenly felt guilty for your actions, worrying that you overstepped some lines. He didn't seem upset or uncomfortable, he was just silent. As he lifted Charlie from her chair, the vision of the two of them left you breathless. A beautiful pair, with porcelain skin contrasting against a palette of muted purples, and the biggest, brightest eyes. Charlie's braid hung loosely down her back, same golden strands accented in the light off the room. You almost wanted to be in the moment with them.
"Hey, so.. if you think you have time, you're welcome to go down to the ballroom for a drink or.. something... if you want." He really had to consider if that was a good idea. The thought was sitting on his mind while he enjoyed the view of your focused expression on his tie. He watched your eyes light up at the notion, his heart swelling with.. with something. "Oh! I mean - The queen talks about it like it's this big important fancy thing, but.. if you think it'll be okay.. I'll - um - " She thought for a moment, looking around the room. "I don't exactly have anything to wear.. I'll join next time, if the invites still open?" You smiled, but it was strained. And he could tell. "No problem! I'll have her find something for you, then you can slip in whenever you want. No pressure!"
With a wave of his hand, a little imp girl came from a portal he had conjured up. Peeking inside, you saw a vast collection of gowns. The imp took your hand and dragged you in silently. You stumbled, then stammered something out, something that should've been a thank you, or a show of appreciation, but you were too stunned by the situation. He waved, then Charlie waved, then the two were out of the room.
The picture of them together ran through your mind. Not just them in matching outfits, but whenever he would press his forehead against hers, or he would show off his horns when Charlie was prodding at her own. Or when they really seemed like a family. Lillith was never in those pictures. Fuck, don't be jealous. You're getting paid far too much money to feel anything like that. Plus, you're being treated to an elegant evening gown without even asking. You don't get to be jealous.
Luckily, the imp rolled out a rack of dresses, it was stuffed to the brim, but was still a more manageable collection compared to the entire room. You sifted through them, and each one that twisted your face, she took off the hanger and set aside. After narrowing it down, you were stuck on two dresses; a sultry red dress, with an incredibly high slit and a stretched velvet material that hugged you in all the right places. Definitely a head turner. Even if this gala had a V.I.P list, maybe some handsome individual could help you distract yourself.
But the other option was a glistening lavender color, the neckline went across your shoulders, turning to gloves that tapered at your knuckles. A sheer corset held your curves in place, and it was paired with pearl accessories, to go with your sleek white heels. Both were gorgeous of course, but turning your hips and taking in how you looked in that lavender gown.. you could see yourself fitting quite nicely into your mental picture of Lucifer and Charlie. You would never admit that's why you picked it. You were prettied up, your hair pulled to one side with pearl clips scattered within the strands, and a little touch of makeup that you really didnt want, but was convinced without a word by the stylist. You looked like royalty. And that made you feel good in so many ways.
—
Lucifer said you could "sneak in", and you thought it best to take that literally. Waving and greeting all the workers in the kitchen that you knew, you finally slipped through the door where the caterers traveled from. You went straight for the bar, not because you needed a drink - well, I'm sure that's part of it - but because you had no idea what to do. What, were you supposed to walk straight up to Lucifer? Or Lillith? The idea of seeing Lillith suddenly made your stomach churn. You realized that you actually got there in time to see the introductions for most of the more esteemed guests. They went through the sins, who were larger than life, then a flared announcement for the Morningstar family was belted out.
Lucifer stood with a devilish grin, looking handsome as always. Lillith was still stunning, her gown trailing behind her.. but it was black. It wasn’t purple, or plum, or lilac, it was just black. It may not have looked like a contrast to everyone, but it upset you for some reason. Charlie stood between them, looking incredibly calmed considering the intensity of the moment. Lillith was holding her small hand, but the difference in height made her strain to keep their fingers intertwined. You cringed watching her stand on the tip of her toes to keep contact with her own mother.
Quietly, as to not interupt the announcements, you beckoned the bartender to bring you a drink. You sat and sipped, your back arched as you leaned your weight onto your elbows. What were you doing here? Was this all worth it? To have your little Cinderella transformation?
"Hello, darling.. and who might you be?" A sultry voice came from behind, causing you to swivle in the chair to face where it came from. It wasn't Lucifer, which left you mildly disapointed, but you definitely weren't upset at the curvy woman standing in front of you, wearing a dress that left nothing to the imagination. The swishing demonic tail wasn't something you hated either. A real fox.
"Oh, a friend invited me, I didnt want to cramp his style, so here I am." As you spoke, the bartender brings a tall flute of champagne over to the gorgeous demon in front of you. She glides to sit in the seat next to you. "Hm - well, I'd hate to see you all alone tonight, mind if I keep you company, love?" She slid her fingers up your arm and you have no idea how you managed to keep your cool. "Not at all~" maybe it was the confidence of your new appearance, but you had no issue with spending the night with this stranger.
All of a sudden, Charlie was plopped into your seated lap, causing you to look up towards an intimidating Lucifer. Examining the sudden shift in mood, you were relieved to see Lillith talking to some demons on the other side of the room. "Glad you could make it! Charlie here - reeaally missed you, thought I should say hi." He smile was forced, you noticed a slight twitch in his eye. "Ah, I see you've met my nanny! Quite a beauty, wouldn't you agree?" Lucifer came incredibly close to you, leaning in and placing his hand on your back. The only issue was the low cut of the dress, allowing you to feel his warm hands on your skin. You hoped he didn't feel the shiver run up your spine.
Taking a hold of Charlie as she climbed up your lap to hug your neck, you let out a natural laugh, feeling like yourself for the first time tonight. Looking back to your conquest, who was definitely about to ask you to "get out of here", you see a face of absolute disgust. Oh, right. You're just a sinner to these higher ups. And a working class one at that. Nanny wasn't the most flattering occupation apparently. She made a terrible excuse to get out of the conversation and walked away a little faster than she should've.
"Sir! I have no problem watching Charlie tonight, but - I was about to -" your face flushed as you tried to explain how you were just trying to get laid tonight. “Get a drink, right? Make sure you stick to the non-alchoomic stuff, hun, sounds like Charlie gets to stay up late tonight!" With a hefty pat on your back, Lucifer stepped away to talk to another random demon. What the fuck? Lucifer had beckoned the bartender over again, and when you looked back to the counter, you see a sad looking soda water. With a sigh, you guzzle the drink just to wet your dried throat.
As much a you loved Charlie, there was no better chick repellant. And even for the brave souls who decided to approach you and still show interest, Lucifer would suddenly appear, keeping his hand just above your tailbone as he mentioned your hard work as his employee. Maybe it was the word nanny, or the intimidating presence of the king of Hell, but he had to be doing this on purpose. You kind of hoped he was doing this on purpose.. After one too many fleeting suitors, you worked your magic and calmed Charlie until she fell asleep in your arms. You hummed a little tune again, the method was something she became accustomed to after you started taking care of her.
"My my~ what a sweetheart." A broad shouldered demon approached you, his lower voice ringing throughout your chest. "Isn't she? She's exhuasted, I should really get her to bed." You never took your eyes off of Charlie, making it easy for him to slip a hand around your waist." Ah, you’re her caretaker, hm? Well.. what do you have going on after you get her to bed?" His hand trails down to your hips, starting to trace a circle with his thumb. You swung away, a look of disgust on your face." Probably going to bed. By myself." You hissed. You never had a problem handling those kind of advances, and you'd do anything to keep Charlie safe, so you kept your distance. "You don't have to do that, baby~ why don't you show me around the Morningstar manor?" He closed the distance, and as you go to step back, your back hits the bar. "N-No thanks, I'm.. not..." You would have gotten nervous in the moment, if you didnt see a blonde headed angel approaching with horns threatening to burst out.
"Stay away from her." A small puff of flames came from Lucifer's snarl as he reprimanded the thug. He scoffed and stepped away as if nothing had happened. Probably the smartest thing for him to do at this point. Lucifer's suddenly glowing red eyes returned to their normal hue once he turned his attention to you. You froze in place. It felt like you were in trouble too. "You're okay?" He spoke blankly, you couldn't tell what emotion he was trying to convey, let alone how he actually feels. You nodded, keeping a hand on the back of Charlie's head." Get her to bed." With a dramatic turn, his transparent cape flew behind him and he returned to Lillith's side. He placed his hand on the small of her back.
You wanted to cry. To scream and drink until you can't think of anything. Charlie was your main priority, though. You took her to her nursery as soon as you could. Carefully changing her into her pajamas, a cute little onesie with ducks printed all over, then placed the drowsy toddler into her bed. "Oh Charlie.. You are so lucky to be so loved." You spoke geniunely, no matter your feelings, the amount of love Charlie is given and how much she gives in return was always so unbelievable to you. She was made of pure joy. Brushing some hair away from her face, you stepped back, taking your time on returning to your room.
"That is so sweet." You shot your head up, unpleasantly surprised by Lucifer's sorry face. "She's in bed, what do you need from me?" You spoke softly, as to not wake her. "You look beautiful. I just.. didn't get a chance to say that earlier, is all." Your face twisted in digust. "You know, you weren't the only one who thought that tonight. That was the first time I've been hit on in months. Couldn't you let me just enjoy the night..?" You were becoming increasingly frustrated, and it was translating clearly through your words. He flinched at your aggression, suddenly becoming defensive.
"That filfthy demon was feeling you up..! What else did you want me to do?" He started to match your energy, quietly responding in an aggitated state." Not him, the rest! I was about to leave with that lady at the bar, and I'm sure others would've enjoyed my company if I wasn't getting handed a toddler every second." You'd regret that one later, referring to Charlie as just a toddler. "That's your job, dear. Remember why you're here." He puffed out his chest, becoming increasingly close to your figure. You shrunk away, your eyes widened at his words.
"Oh- Oh, no, I didn't mean to - wait, I wasn't - " He stammered, his intimidating stature immediatly dropping as he say your eyes start to glaze over with tears, which only flowed down your cheeks after batting your made-up lashes. "Nonono! Please don't cry I - um.. " his eyes darted around the room, before reaching his arms out and reeling you in to a tightening embrace. Your chin sat on his shoulder, the shock momentarily keeping the water works at bay.
"I got nervous, okay..? I didn't want anything.. bad... to happen. I didn't want to lose you in there." Those words shouldn't tug at your heart strings at much as they did, but that and the low rumble of his voice just slightly hitting your ear made it impossible.
"I-I can handle myself.." You sniffled, your breath becoming heavier as you felt his hands start to explore your back. He rested one hand on the small of your back, sending a familiar warmth to your chest. But then, his fingers traced upwards, holding onto your shoulders for a moment, before lightly clawing down your bare back. He traced over a certain spot that tickled you the wrong way, causing you to force out a little yelp. You both stopped for a moment, the only thing you could hear was the uneven pants coming from your mouths. He pulled away for a moment, keeping his hands on your shoulders. Then eyeing you up and down, he ran his grasp across the length of your arms. "I known you can.. you're wonderful." He somehow spoke as if he was completely unaffected by the intimacy he was just showing you. Your breath only picked up more, instantly regretting what you were about to do.
With a small leap, you pulled him in by his collar and messily met his lips. It couldn't be a quick peck, that's too confusing. You wanted this to last forever. He kept his lips sealed shut at first, but that didn't last long. With a shakey breath against your lips, he pulled you in by your waist suddenly, bringing you as close to him as he could. The motion took the air out of your lungs, forcing you release a vocal sigh. He only held you tighter after that. Your arms trailed up and around his shoulders, combing through the hairs at the nape of his neck. He broke for a moment, his kisses traveling down your lips to your jawline, then down to your neck.
Flicking your hair back, he latched an incredibly wet kiss on the softness of your neck. Lucifer took the invitation of your strapless dress to fully cover you in kisses, occasionally running his tongue up the length of your neck. A panting mess, you pulled him back up by his chin, finally getting a good look at his face. He was falling apart at the seems. He looked desperate to get back to working on your neck, like he hadnt been intimate with anyone in years. You needed his lips against yours again. Holding his jaw, you pressed a kiss on his lips, then squeezed your thumb amd index finger to open his lower jaw and push your tongue into his mouth. He let out a nervous moan, before quickly catching up to you.
This wasn’t right. This part wasn't in your mental picture of a perfect family. And you knew why. Your thoughts were silenced, feeling his mouth trail back down to your collarbone. He thumbed at the top of your long glove, beginning to pull it down. God, never let this moment end.
But you forgot. You're in Hell.
With a frantic patting on his shoulder, you quickly attempted to get his attention. When Lucifer met your eyes again, they had gone wide, and he finally noticed you shaking. "Hey, hey! What is it? Are you okay? Did I do something wrong?"
"Yes." He froze. He slowly turned his head to the door. Lillith.
—
"Darling, please, I'm sorry, you know you're the only one for me - it was a long night, mistakes were made, let's just move on, hm..?" He was begging for this moment to be over, as Lillith moved past him and approached you. You had to crane your neck to look at her, your entire body trembling. You had mascara running down your eyes, and your lipstick had smeared in all directions. Lillith lifted your head up even further, wiping some smudged lipstick from the corner of your mouth. "Lily..?" Lucifer let out softly. She let out a soft sigh. She didn't seem to be angry, which seemed to make you more nervous than if she was. "D-Don’t.. don't hurt her..." It's like he was scared to stick up for you. That, and the fact that he just called this past interaction a mistake, weighed heavily on your heart. "You think that little of me, my love? I would never. It was a mistake, after all, just as you said." She spoke so calmly but knew exactly what to say to make you cower in fear. You let out a pathetic whimper, "P-Please... I'm s-sorry, Your Highness..." She smiled and tightened her grip on your jaw for a moment before letting you go. You didn't realize she was actually lifting you up slightly until you were dropped down. “So.. we can talk and figure this out, right? Lily?" She kept her eyes off of the anxious mess that Lucifer was becoming." Of course, love. We'll talk in the morning. Oh, and obviously - " She turned towards you just before leaving the room.
"You're fired.”
—
HA
Anyway, there is absolutely a part 2 for this don't worry and I'll get to it.. eventually.
!Taglist!
( @vififofum @thornwolfy235 @tinywolfiegirl @chipper-chip @bat-boness @misfitgirlwrites @nayomi247 @lonelynmisunderstood )
#There's a reference in here someone please get it#hazbin hotel#hazbin#lucifer hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel fandom#lucifer hazbin#lucifer morningstar#lucifer magne#hazbin hotel smut#lucifer fluff#lucifer morningstar x you#lucifer x reader#lucifer x reader smut#hazbin hotel lucifer#hazbin lucifer#lucifer smut#lucifer x you
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ayato aishi being in love with an idol!reader would include...
sfw. warnings: yandere and obsessive behavior but that’s about it.
author’s note: this was also posted on my wattpad account, just wanted to share it here!
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/650a449e789cd0f5fd2b799a905da328/b169d0cffe87063d-79/s540x810/8d868521c0b23fd39051d7ad9db837e7876bec05.jpg)
• the only reason ayato knew of your existence was because he heard your name a few times brought up at school. at first, he thought you were a student at akademi but something in the back of his mind told him that he had the wrong idea. he ended up shrugging it off. that is, until he saw a 3d billboard of you in tokyo, telling the watchers below to buy tickets for your upcoming concert.
• this whole time, y/n was an idol? ayato felt like a complete idiot when he realized this and spent the next few minutes, just standing there on the sidewalk, watching the same billboard cycle through other things until you popped up again. when you did, ayato took his time admiring your features. it's no wonder you were so popular at school...you're gorgeous.
• with that, ayato hurried to his house whilst he looked up everything about you and once he was in his house, he listened to every single song that you have ever sung. unreleased, popular, underrated, instrumental, acapella, you name it. you just so happened to have over 45 songs! for someone who was in the music scene for such a short amount of time, you did have a lot of albums...but that's alright!
— while it wasn't ayato's usual taste in music, he was willing to make an exception for you and only you.
• ayato is the type of guy to see someone wearing a piece of your merchandise, walk up to them, and say, "oh, you like y/n l/n? name 5 songs."
— insufferable, yes, but he had to assert dominance and show every single follower that he was your number #1 fan! if someone claims to be it, they're dead wrong. literally.
• he hates how some of the guys at his school also knew who you were and thought you were attractive. ayato knows that realistically, it was bound to happen but he still hates having to deal with it and it's not like he could do anything about it too, just suck it up.
• if you're the type of idol to dye your hair differently with every single album debut, ayato carefully tracks for any leaks on what color it would be because he's been debating on matching with you. he's lucky that akademi high school isn't strict when it comes to uniquely colored hair (as some schools force students to dye their hair black, even if a person's natural hair color is brown). of course, he would stick out more but he didn't care. it's a way he can show his support for you and there's nothing wrong with that.
• has only been to one of your concerts since, he won't lie, the tickets are a bit pricey and his part-time job could hardly cover it. the concert was really cool to experience— especially since ayato doesn't get out much— and he loved seeing you in person, but some annoying fans in front of him wouldn't stop holding their signs up in the air blocking his view but still tried to have a good thing by waving his light-stick and chanting in perfect harmony with the other fans.
— he would've gone a vip pass instead, but if he did that, ayato would have become flat-broke and that would in turn make him receive an angry lecture from his parents about finances.
• ayato has sent you loads of fan mail, some by name, others anonymously. he's sure that you get thousands by the hour but if there is even the slightest chance that you might read at least one of his, he'll take that opportunity
• whenever you describe your ideal type in a man in interviews, ayato makes it his duty to meet the criteria. you want someone with a little bit of muscle? he can work out more. you want a man who can cook? looks like ayato will be joining the cooking club at school. trust me, he will do anything to be viewed perfect in your eyes
• although his first-ever time seeing you in person was pretty much a bust, ayato made up for it by teaming up with info-kun to see where you would be in japan and finding your location by fan sightings. it was from there that ayato was able to find you in shibuya but it wasn't good news, actually. you were mad at the paparazzi trying to take scandalous photos of you and when ayato realized this, his head began to spin and he, too, started shouting at them to give you some space and to back off.
— when you realized this, you turned over to see just who was coming to help you since you weren't expecting it and mouthed a small 'thank you' which sent ayato's heart soaring.
• ayato has purchased an ungodly amount of merch from you, whether that be shirts, water bottles, limited-time ramen, or soda cans, he's even ripped off pages in magazines solely because your face was on it.
• alas, he still needs to find a way to worm into your personal life. it's a little hard to do that with just how many bodyguards you have and have lots of cameras in your house, too many for him to be able to capture you without any issues...
#yandere headcanons#yandere x you#yandere x reader#yandere imagines#yandere boy#yandere#yandere kun#yandere simulator#yandere sim#yandere kun x reader#yandere kun hcs#yandere kun imagines#ayato aishi#ayato aishi x reader#ayato aishi imagine#ayato aishi hcs#gn reader#gender neutral reader#gender neutral y/n#fmab reader#idol reader#akademi high school#random#yandere x darling#yandere x y/n#video games#i do not support yandere dev#writing#fanfic
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Everything you do is perfect
Written for the @steddieholidaydrabbles, day 15
Prompt: Ornament
Rated: T
Tags: Established relationship; Post-Vecna; Everybody lives; Christmas; Steve Harrington has bad parents; Eddie Munson is a sweetheart; Making out
“Stevie. Hey, Stevie.”
Steve turns away from the giant clump of string lights he’s been trying to disentangle for the past ten minutes to find his boyfriend standing in front of their Christmas tree, sporting a shit-eating grin and what looks like a wig made of silver tinsel. He has pinned a tiny, red bauble to his sweater, just in the spot where his left nipple used to be.
“What d’you say?” Eddie says, doing a suggestive little wiggle of his hips and giving the bauble a flick with his finger. It jingles. “Think I should wear this to the Byers’ Christmas party?”
“Yeah, you could do that,” Steve says. “If you wanna sleep on the couch, that is.”
Eddie shrugs and settles back onto the floor, all in one jerky collapse of bony shoulders and gangly limbs. The tinsel wig sparkles as he pulls the box he was going through back into his lap. For a while, the only sound is that of the Christmas songs playing on the radio.
“You sure your folks won’t miss any of this?” Eddie asks, pulling more baubles out of the box and setting them down on the floor all around himself. Red and gold and silver, some adorned in sparkly white snowflakes and little winter scenes.
Steve shakes his head and goes back to tugging on his tangle of lights. “They haven’t been home for the holidays in forever. I think the last time we had a Christmas tree, I was like ten? I mean, they haven’t even noticed I’m gone, so they sure as hell won’t be missing a few dusty boxes from the attic.”
Eddie says nothing, and when Steve glances up, he’s still staring into the box of baubles. His mouth has twisted in displeasure, and it tugs on the gnarly scar on his jaw.
“Shit,” Steve says. “I’m sorry, I didn’t wanna ruin the mood.”
Eddie shakes his head so vehemently it makes the bauble-turned-nipple sway. “You don’t have anything to be sorry for, big boy. They don't know what they're missing, right?”
Steve looks at him - the bright, toothy smile and the wild hair under the tinsel wig. The baubles scattered all around him twinkle in the lights of their tiny living room. The tree they've picked is a bit on the large side, but Eddie wanted it, and Steve has found he’s unable to say no to those large, pleading cow eyes.
“Yeah,” he says. “Yeah, you're right.”
Eddie nods smugly, turning his attention back to his box. “Of course I am, I'm always- … oh, what's this?”
Paper rustles and baubles jingle as he crams his arms all the way into the box to pull something out from the very bottom. When Steve sees what it is, an unpleasant heat spreads under his shirt collar.
“Oh fuck, I had no idea that was in there,” he blurts. He reaches over, but the string lights are all tangled around his legs and before he can do anything, the room tilts out from under him. Eddie catches him with an arm around his waist and they go crashing to the floor in a graceless heap of limbs and tinsel.
“Did you make this?” Eddie asks, holding the small star up over their heads. It's made of salt dough, and all wonky and lopsided. Steve remembers being six years old and attempting to pry it out of the cookie cutter. “It's adorable.”
“Yeah, right,” Steve snorts, trying to snatch the ornament, but Eddie twists out of his reach. Steve shoves his hands under his sweater and starts tickling, and things sort of escalate from there. By the time they pause to catch their breath, Steve's shirt has ridden up to somewhere near his chest, his lips are sore from kissing, and the tree is slightly lopsided because they rolled into it.
“It really is cute, though,” Eddie says. His wig has slipped and there's a tiny hole in his sweater where the improvised nipple tore off. One of his hands is still cradling the little star between them, keeping it safe like a treasure. “Are there more?”
Steve shrugs. “I dunno. There were, but I thought we'd thrown them all out.”
He recalls coming home from school, proudly presenting the ornaments to his mom. The way she smiled absentmindedly, putting them away on top of the fridge and going back to her phone call. She never put them up, neither that year nor the following one. They had some of his dad's business associates over, and the house needed to be perfect. Soon after that, they started going away for the winter holidays.
Eddie watches his face and frowns.
“You know what?” he then says, swatting at the baubles on the floor and sending them scattering into the corners. “Fuck this crap! We should make a whole batch of these little babies, decorate the entire tree with them. We can get started right now, I think we have all the ingredients.”
He rolls off Steve and jumps to his feet, already headed for the kitchen, but Steve catches him with a hand around his wrist and pulls him back to the floor.
“I dunno, Eddie. Whatever I'd end up making probably won't look much better than this, and I sort of want the tree to look perfect on our first Christmas together.”
Eddie chuckles.
“Aw, sweetheart,” he says. The tinsel wig tickles Steve’s cheek as he leans in for a firm kiss on the lips. “That's exactly the point. Whatever you make will be perfect to me.”
They spend the rest of the night making a mess of the kitchen, baubles and lights forgotten on the living room floor. Steve can't imagine anything better.
More holiday drabbles
#steddie#steve x eddie#steve harrington x eddie munson#steddie fanfic#steddie brainrot#fanfiction writer#fanfiction#fanfic#my writing#steddie holiday drabbles#hype's holiday drabbles 2024
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Vivziepop Can't Write POC
TW/CW: Racism, S/A mention
Surprisingly Vivziepop's work actually has more POC characters than I first realized. And all of them are...less then splendid.
Valkyrie
Valkyrie...poor, poor Valkyrie...
Forever cursed to sit in the back, shut up, and only stand up and contribute when her white savior girlfriend either royally screws things up or needs moral support.
I've spoken about my strong feelings on Valkyrie many times before in previous posts so I'll only really give one new shred of criticism I've realized: Making your main POC female cast member a former genocidal murderer who spent supposed years killing her girlfriend's kind is...a choice.
Emily and Sera
My biggest issue with Emily and Sera (especially Emily) is that you can hardly even tell that they're meant to be Black. Their skin is a weird dark grayish brown, their features are stock and bland (both of them lacking proper noses), and their hair is some puzzling mix of straight and poofy.
And the writing of them both is also unimpressive. Emily is a carbon-copy, stock "Bubbly young girl" archetype who never really does much other than sing and move around. She acts more like a piece on a chessboard than a character, simply moving and doing what the scene needs her to do. Sera on the other hand, is a personality-less stick figure who just kind of does things because...the plot requires it. Also, great move Vivzie! Making one of the main villains a Black woman who endorses genocide and has to act like a babysitter/manager to the loud, obnoxious, hate-spewing white guy. How progressive!
Velvette (Kind of?)
I...actually have no real words to say about Velvette. Which sounded like a positive until I realized the reason I had nothing to say about her is because she does nothing. Like, ever.
She just kind of stands around being annoying and ignoring her fellow Vee's whining fits and sex crimes. Jeez, uh...that argument between her and Carmilla was stupid, I guess?
Velvette: She sure is one of the characters of all time!
Valentino
Not even worth mentioning, you already know he's terrible.
Alastor/Husk
Oh dear god, Alastor...
Words fail me at how much of an insane fail both of these characters are. One is a offensive caricature of Voodou that would make Dr. Facilier roll in his grave, who's also somehow whiter than snow despite being half Creloe. And the other is a constantly complaining douche and a hopeless alcoholic, who has a whole song devoted to calling a sex worker a loser for being abused/not having a proper coping mechanism. Oh, AND he's enslaved by the other "Black" guy! HOW PROGRESSIVE 😀
Oh and Carmilla is there too, but I've been awake for too long and also have nothing to say about her :/
#vivziepop criticism#vivziepop critique#anti vivziepop#fuck vivziepop#vivziepop critical#anti hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel criticism#hazbin hotel critical#hazbin hotel critique#anti hazbin#hazbin critique#hazbin criticism#hazbin critical#tw racsim#tw sa mention#tw abuse
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pairing: narumi gen x gn!reader (no prns)
summary: he's always thought that anyone would do if he just wanted to find love but he realizes you're the one he wishes for, inspired by pop song by yonezu kenshi
warnings: some profanities from narumi
wc: 1300
Narumi Gen hated a lot of things, but one of his least favourites of all time was "true love". He despised when people would describe their love for another as "true love". It couldn't possibly be that serious. Just say you loved your partner. That was probably the extent feelings got to anyways— you just so happened to like each other at the same time. To him that was plenty of a feat alone, why would you have to make it sound like more than it is? For the sake of love? Ridiculous.
To him, that was truly all love was. If there was someone who liked him when he happened to like them too, that was enough. No need for years of pining, no need to get attached to some unrequited love. All that noise about love and destiny surely wasn't all that necessary.
Now, this wasn't to say that he didn't wish to find love— because he did. Like any other person, he truly wished to be loved. It was just that what he had in mind wasn't some deep pure love that'd last forever, nor was it a promise for eternity. He just wished for a light-hearted "I love you" here and there with someone he found special.
And for that, anyone would do. He'd find someone who fancied him along the way, and hopefully he'd like them back. That was all there was to it.
This meant his plan for finding his partner was sitting around and waiting. As horribly lame as that sounded, because he was Narumi Gen, this wasn't that hopeless of a plan. So, that's what he did. He'd go around saving people and doing his duties (to the absolute bare minimum) while making sure he was constantly trending, hoping that one day, someone would like him.
Today he was standing around for a solid five extra minutes after he defeated the honju with ease, hoping the media would snap some nice pictures of him, or he'd finally charm someone this time.
"Captain, you ought to stop that," you said. "It's rather embarrassing, you look desperate now."
"Oh, would you shut up," he said. "You're ruining my good name!"
You snorted. "What good name," you scoffed.
"I'm starting to think its your fault I'm not charming anyone. Perhaps if you didn't stop me every time, someone would have found me by now," he said.
"Yeah, right. Captain Ashiro seems to be having no issues charming people and I've never seen her try to," you said.
"You little shit," he said.
"Besides they're going to be utterly disappointed if they think this is what you're like and then they find out what you're… actually like," you said, and he was starting to think you wanted him to fire you. "It's okay. Someone will see how you're actually lovely at times soon."
"What?" he asked, shocked by what you said.
"What?" you replied, confused.
"You— you said lovely," he said quietly. Suddenly he felt flustered.
"Oh," you said, looking away and avoiding eye contact. It wasn't like you didn't mean to say that, but you didn't think it was that big of a deal. Rather, how flustered he sounded took you by surprise. “Well, you’re a little lame but you’re a good guy. Like you pretend you only do it for the media, but I know you’re always checking the alleyways that don’t have as much surveillance just in case, and checking alleyways isn’t something a captain has to do. And we both know the media isn’t writing about anything you do there. Things like that.”
“You never know!” he said, and you snorted.
“Alright then,” you said. “You do you, Captain.”
“I will!” he said back, trying to sound proud.
A week had passed and here he was, doing what he always did after arriving fashionably late to the scene and taking all the kaiju out in a matter of minutes: standing around trying to look good. Because he wanted love, and anyone would do. Anyone who liked him was supposed to do.
...
And yet he wished for you.
He wished that when he woke up, the first thing he would see was you. He wished that you'd smile at him everyday with love and genuine joy the way you did to others, and he wished that you’d smile that way to him alone. He wished that after a long day, he was the one you came home to. He wished from the bottom of his heart that you would always be safe and no harm would ever come your way. He wished that your days were filled with laughter and smiles and he knew he would risk his life to protect that.
It was so unlike him in a way he absolutely hated. True love was supposed to be nonsense and someone being ‘the one’ was supposed to be some dramatic line in a movie. It upset him, that he was so utterly fond of you. Yet, no matter how much it upset him, it didn't change the fact that he was, and he couldn't deny it anymore after trying to ignore it for the full week.
So here he was, acting stupid again, hoping that you’d scold him again or tell him he’s embarrassing himself, because that’s what it’s come down to. He just wanted another reason to talk to you.
But you wouldn’t come to stop him after 10 whole minutes.
“Why aren’t you stopping me?” he asked, irritated.
“Pardon?” you asked, utterly confused.
“Why aren’t you telling me to stop?” he asked again. He was aware how silly he sounded, but he was pissed off that you meant so much to him so he had to take it out on you.
“Because you told me to stop last time??” you replied. “I thought you were going to keep this up until you found yourself a partner.”
“You’re the one who told me to find someone that saw how I was…. lovely…. at times,” he said, but said the lovely very quietly. Remembering that you had described him as lovely made his cheeks burn and he’d rather die than let you see that.
“I mean, yeah. I do think you should,” you said.
“Don’t you notice, though?” he asked quietly, avoiding eye contact. There was a moment of silence.
“I do,” you said, and immediately he looked up to face you. You had a grin on your face and you looked so proud— you looked like you had won a game. Oh, how he hated you.
“You’re so annoying,” he said, and you raised an eyebrow.
“Rich coming from you,” you said.
“So, do you—,” he started to yell before cutting himself off. Carefully, he tried again. “Would you please… uh… be mine…?”
Oh, this is so embarrassing, he thought. Perhaps you’d laugh at him, but he wanted to do this properly, or at the very least try to. He’d be far more than just stupid to mess this up now. He was finally in love.
But your laughter never came. When he looked up your eyes were wide and you looked so flustered, but soon you had the most beautiful smile on your face.
“I would absolutely love to,” you said.
So he kissed you right then and there, because there was nothing he wanted to do more at the moment.
He laughed a little.
“What’s wrong?” you asked.
“No, nothing,” he said.
There was no way just anyone would do— it had to be you.
#narumi gen x reader#gen x reader#gen narumi x reader#narumi gen#kn8 x reader#kaiju no. 8 x reader#i do not know#i really do not know#i dont know if its ooc... i dont know if it turned out ok...#i do know it strayed away from pop song and i also know i didnt do pop song justice#this actually started rather differently but here we are i think this is still closer to pop song than i originally was#NOT THAT ANYONE WAS FORCING ME TO STICK TO POP SONG#i just think im very. augh. bc its so dialogue heavy and i think the dialogue i write after like 4 lines goes no where other than DOWNHILL#maybe the endings the issue. might try to fix the ending#augh. i hope it is alright#sorry narumi stans#ok perhaps the ending is a tad bit better now#idk IDK it is okay im MOVING ON#THANK U FOR READING THOUGH OMG I DIDN'T SAY TY FOR READING#I REALLY AM SO THANKFUL IF YOU READ IT AND I HOPE YOU ENJOYED !!!
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