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hyuuukais · 1 month ago

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⋆₊‧⁺˖⋆˚.⋆ ͙͘͡★ LOOK UP TO THE STARS

pairing ▪︎ han jisung x fem reader

synopsis ▪︎ sent out on a mission to a neighbouring QZ that's gone radio silent, y/n falls into the hands of a post-rebellion group after things go terribly wrong. giving up on rejoining her squad, she joins the group on a trek to find a missing member, the group leader's sister. what's supposed to be a not-so-simple trip out and back to their base becomes a one-way ticket to the end of everything they know.

warnings ▪︎ general, y/n finally breaking down, also she can't swim cause i can't swim 💔, hyunjin x reader fight from previous chapter mentioned, errm radiohead lyrics jumpscare sorry (but also not cause it's my fic 🤨), errrm idk what else !

MASTERLIST | PREVIOUS | NEXT

CHAPTER SEVEN ▪︎ WE ALL HAVE SOMETHING (6.1k)

At least a week has passed since you left that place, only a pile of dead bodies to signify you were ever there. It was too risky to go back to the home Chan and Jeongin were still in, waiting for the rest of you to return, so Felix had radioed them in order to get them ready to move. As the truck was loaded with supplies, Felix had Han carefully flip you onto your back to check the still bleeding wound left by that mans knife. He did what he could, packing the wound and instructing you to stay in that position. You barely registered his words, slipping into sleep.

When you woke, you found yourself on a firm mattress in the basement of a cottage. Pain shot through your body every time you tried moving, and you imagined that's how Chan felt after the hospital. Your sympathy for him rose, and so did your impatience to get back to normal.

Today, you're finally able to sit upright, legs hanging over the edge of the bed as you stare blankly through the doorway. Your back aches, but Felix says it's healing nicely, that you're lucky there isn't much real damage. You don't feel lucky. You feel nothing. All those years in the QZ mastering the art of hiding emotion came in handy, but you would give anything right now just to feel something. You sigh heavily, trying to release the weight on your chest. But today is different, because you can finally sit upright on the edge of the bed.

Tears prickle at your eyes and you look down to where your hands sit in your lap, cradling your necklace. You took it off when no one was with you, keeping it in a drawer in the bedside nightstand. The metal charm is cold in your hand as you close it in a fist; looking at it for so long brings you back too far. Thoughts of before flood your mind, thoughts of Minho and the way he found the charm for you after you asked him about his own one night, a singular cat paw hanging down from his neck.

"Ah, this," He took the charm in his fingers, the metal glinting in the campfire light. "My mother gave it to me before she turned."

"Oh." You were only eight, leaning against Minhos arm in the middle of an abandoned campsite.

Unlike you, Minho had lived with his mom until he was about your age when he found you, then she turned after their camp was attacked. He found you a few years later, wandering the streets of a small town looking for shelter. You were just a small child, the age of seven, left alone to fend for yourself. It wasn't intentional- you'd been curious about a path in the woods and found yourself lost quickly. When you ran into Minho, you were trembling from hunger and on the brink of passing out from exhaustion. He took you into his arms and broke into the closest house, taking out some kind of canned food for you to eat. Ever since then, you were inseparable.

That is, until now.

Now, you're unlikely to ever see him again outside of dreams and memories. As you place the necklace back around your neck, you can feel something. It starts small, the hiccups and the burn in your throat, the way the prickling behind your eyes grows stronger; you can't breathe through your nose anymore. Salty tears drip down your face, down your neck, onto your hands in your lap. No one is around to hear you, so you let go, curling into yourself as your sobs rip from your body painfully. You can't even stay on the bed, slipping down to the carpeted floor with a hand clutching your heart as everything comes out at once. The pain of missing Minho, accepting what happened at the diner- you didn't let yourself truly feel fear there, thinking you would die one way or another, that it didn't matter how you felt in the moment. Waves of anguish flow through your body like a viral disease; you need to let it run its course.

You don't hear the knock on the door frame or see the way Chan leans against it, watching as you give into yourself. It's not until he's sitting next to you with an arm wrapping around your shoulders that you acknowledge him, face burying into his neck and your free hand being held by his. He whispers words you can't make out into your hair, running smooth circles in between your shoulder blades until you start to calm down, coughing and sniffling and breathing so heavily. Eventually, the room is near quiet again, only the occasional sniffle to be heard.

"Did I ever tell you about when Hannah went missing?" You look up at Chan, shaking your head. He's not looking at you when he continues, but at your clasped hands, giving you a squeeze. "I looked a lot like you after a few days. I was..."

"A complete and total mess?" You offer, and he gives a breathy laugh.

"Exactly. A complete and total mess. I locked myself in that house for what felt like forever." Chan sighs, looking up at the ceiling. "We were out in a nearby town looking for things like canned food and medical supplies, run of the mill stuff. She was practically begging me to let her explore the local art gallery, but I was so against it. Of course, she didn't listen to me and went off on her own when enough of us were distracted. If I had only-" Chan clears his throat, blinks a few times. "If I had only said yes, gone with her, she'd still be with us."

"What do you mean?" You're more upright now, but still leaning into his shoulder.

"The place was filled with infected," He starts, and you feel your stomach drop. "As soon as we noticed she was missing, that was the first place we looked. As we got closer, we heard her screaming for help. Jisung helped me get the door open and we saw she had climbed on top of a sculpture, but the infected were somehow making their way up to her. And after one wrong move in trying to stay up, she fell- right into the arms of this person that we hadn't even noticed."

The regret and pain in Chan's voice are enough to make you look away from him, now your turn to give a reassuring squeeze to his hand. Silence hangs heavily in the room for a few moments before he begins talking again.

"All the infected were trained on us after that, only a few stragglers going after the two of them. The horde was too thick to get through, but we took most of them out before having to fall back out the way we came from." His head drops down, lips quivering. "I- when we- ugh, sorry."

"Don't apologize." You bring your free hand to his cheek, turning his head to face you. "You don't need to continue if you don't want to."

"I do," He says, voice wet, cheeks wet. "I do. We, um, we circled around to the back where we assumed they took her out from, but only got there in time to see a large van drive off. Our own vehicle was too far at the time, we never had a chance of catching up. Hannah meant- means, a lot to all of us, so I tried to be strong for the rest of the group. A few days after getting back to town, I found a note she had written."

He takes his hand from yours, reaching into the pocket of his jeans to reveal a tired, leather wallet. When he opens it, you see the only thing inside is a folded-up piece of lined paper. Chan takes it out carefully, letting you read it over his shoulder.

Chan, Chris, whatever.

Thanks for finding me a guitar! You're the best big brother ever, but you didn't hear that from me. In fact, burn this after reading, I don't need anyone thinking I've gone soft for you.

Here are some lyrics I've begun (probably not the beginning of a song, maybe somewhere in the middle? I don't know):

Breathe, keep breathing. Don't lose your nerve.

Breathe, keep

The paper is ripped, cutting off the rest of the lyrics. When you're done reading, you look back to Chan, but he's still focused on the paper, his face red and scrunched up. You tuck some hair away from his face as he breaks down, gasping and wiping his eyes. He clears his throat again, tucking the paper back into the wallet, the wallet back into his jeans.

"I pull that out when I start to lose touch, when I start to think things are becoming hopeless." His voice quiets. "When I start to give up. She gives me those things back, grounds me, you know?"

Your fingers find the charm around your neck. "I know."

"Now that I know Hannah is still out there, I'd give anything to find her. Sometimes it scares me." Chan finally looks at you again, eyes watery. "We all have something that scares us, and we all have something to give us hope. Find it, Y/n, and don't give up. We need you."

Something in his voice, in his words, in the feeling of his body close to yours, has you breaking down again. You both sit here for a while, comforting each other by just being close and providing a safe space to let it all out. Once your eyes run dry, Chan stands and offers you a hand. You take it, following him through the basement doors to the backyard on slightly unsteady feet. There's a pathway from where the glass double doors are jammed open down to a fire pit, a small set of stone steps leading further down to the water. It's overcast and smells like rain, but you can see almost everyone out in the water. The sight is enough for you to tear up again, seeing them have fun and have just one day where they can be careless, not worrying about if they'll make it through the night.

Hyunjin is sitting on a cushioned metal swing on a porch that hangs slightly over a sandy area, the water not quite coming up the shore. He's sitting with Felix, who's chest is free of a shirt, but not free of sand grains covering his skin. His wet hair is tucked behind his ears; it's getting long, he looks good this way. They're lost in conversation, not paying attention to Jeongin and Chaeryeong essentially trying to drown each other by the looks of it, or Han, who's floating closer to the dock where Seungmin is sitting with his legs in the water. Nobody notices you and Chan standing from afar, watching with a heaviness in each of your chests.

"Go, have fun," Chan pushes you forward gently. "I'm gonna start prepping the campfire for dinner. I found some things we can eat in a storage room inside."

"I can stay and help-"

"No," He says firmly, shaking his head. "Hyunjin and I can't go in, doctors orders, but you can go join them and you should. Lix told me you should be okay since your wound has healed nicely. Enjoy it for me, yeah?"

You groan, barely containing a smile. "Fine."

"Y/n!" Chaeryeong squeals as you walk to the edge of the porch, avoiding eye contact with Hyunjin. "Come join us!"

"That was the plan." You laugh.

Stripping off your pants and socks, you carefully hop down onto the wet sand. Warm water touches your toes as you slowly descend, a small smile gracing your features. It feels nice.

"You should take your shirt off since it's your only one," Chaeryeong suggests and you blush. "The water temperature is amazing out here once you get used to it, so don't worry about being cold!"

You bring your hands to the bottom of your shirt, hesitating as you begin to lift it up. At just below your belly button, you stop completely, gripping your shirt tightly. It shouldn't be a big deal, but it is to you. Taking your shirt off means revealing the ugly bruises littering your body, the nasty scar across your ribs from when you were a child. There isn't much of a story, one similar enough to a lot of people you've met before. A zombie attacked you and left you with a permanent mark, only you've been able to hide the jagged, rough skin from sight. It healed terribly from the lack of proper medical attention, only a twelve-year-old Minho with no training to try and stop the bleeding, stitch up the wound, and keep it clean as you slipped in and out of consciousness. Soon after, he ran into someone from the quarantine zone who tried to take him with them, but he kicked and screamed until they understood there was someone else; you, alone in a cold garage, on the brink of death.

You think nobody notices your pause, much too focused on themselves and the water, but then somebody is standing beside you in the soft sand, an arm reaching behind you to grab a piece of green fabric. Watching as Han shoves his shirt back over his wet body, catching a glimpse of his small waist and bare golden skin in the process, your hands let go of the hem of your shirt.

"Chaeryeong is lying," Han says, then raises his voice loud enough for the others to hear. "The water is fucking freezing!"

Laughing, Jeongin tries to splash him where he stands, but the younger boy is too far away and it barely hits Han's ankles. Shaking your head, you look up at Han, who is standing entirely too close to you, but you find you don't mind. After what you experienced together, you don't view him like you did before; immature, kind of annoying, cocky. You see now that's how Jisung protects himself, by portraying himself as funny and unserious, to try and lighten the mood. You all have your armour, and he wears his better than you do yours.

"I'm not lying! Don't believe him!" Chaeryeong whines, but is soon distracted by some bugs skipping past her over the water. "Woah, Jeongin, look."

"She's right." You talk quietly, a shy smile on your face and you can't look Han in the eye. "I can feel the water on my feet, it really isn't cold."

"Yes, it is," He insists, taking your hand in his and walking backward. You look at him now, see the way his hair falls into his eyes and swoops up at the back, at his honey complexion shining in the vibrant light of the sunset to your left, his eyes teasing, but soft. "It's really, really cold. Keeping your shirt on is the smart decision."

"Okay." You whisper, letting him bring you in waist-deep before he lets go and maneuvers onto his back. "Wait."

Han cranes his neck up to look at you, raising an eyebrow.

"I- oh, this is so stupid," You say, hiding your face in your hands. "I can't swim, at least, not well. Going into deeper water freaks me out."

With your face still hidden, you can hear Han returning to your side. Wet hands bring yours down, big brown eyes staring into yours. "That's okay, you have a human-sized floating device right here! And we'll only go as far as that dock, okay?"

Smiling, he steps aside and points to a floating piece of wood not too far from where you're standing in the water. Then, he's back in front of you with his back facing you, reaching back to wrap your hands around his shoulders. You're holding on for dear life when he kicks out, somehow more scared than you are when fighting actual literal undead beings. What should be a walk in the park, and is for most people, makes your throat hot and tight. You want to nuzzle your face into Han's neck, but you know if you try that you'll just end up waterboarding yourself, which is more embarrassing than anything else that's happened since you've woken up.

The wood shifts under your weight and for a second, you think you'll fall over the edge when Han lets go of your body, but you don't. He sits on a different ledge, encouraging you with a nod to join him on that side, so you do. From here, you can see the sun setting behind the tree line, oranges and pinks and yellows painting a beautiful picture for you. To your left, you see bodies in the water and recognize them as more than just people you're surviving with, but as people you've grown to really care about. And maybe you're a little hopeful, but you think they've grown to care about you too.

Han traces light fingers over the tendons in your hand, over your knuckles, up your wrist. You think he's doing it subconsciously, but then his fingers intertwine with your own and he's sighing with a small smile on his face, and his eyes are closed, and his wet hair sticks to his forehead, and you can't look away, and he's the most beautiful person you've ever seen, and-

"You're staring." You blush, but the way his eyes look down at your lips then back to your eyes doesn't go unnoticed.

"I couldn't help it," You admit. Something in the way he's staring at you has your heart about to leap out of your chest, thumping hard and loud, and you wouldn't be surprised if he could hear it too. The blood rushing in your ears, the way your skin prickles where he's touched you; you've never felt like this before, not even with Hyunjin.

Finally breaking the stare, Han clears his throat and lets go of your hand; you're a tad bit disappointed at the loss of contact. "Chan found some canned food in a storage room in the basement, so we were thinking of having a campfire tonight. There's also stale marshmallows and I heard that people before the apocalypse would make these things called 'smores', but we don't have the stuff to make them."

"Yeah, I've had those-" You start, but are interrupted by an almost offended sound.

"You've had them?" Hans neck nearly snaps with the speed his head turns to you.

"Um, yeah." Why are you getting shy? "With Minho in the QZ. When he became a squad leader, he got some privileges we didn't, like access to the kitchens after hours. He told me about all the things they kept for themselves as we snuck out that night, contraband chocolate and graham crackers stuffed deep into out coat pockets."

You laugh at the memory, the stuttered excuse Minho had made when a soldier caught you both trying to leave stealthily. Luckily they'd trained together, and the soldier waved you both away with a suggestive smirk that made your cheeks go red. You think that might have been when the rumours started; you and Minho fell in love through all the trauma you went through together, that the only real place of comfort you had was each other. Only part of that is true- was true. He didn't bring you far that night, just outside of the patrol routes to a small, wooden shack of sorts in the woods. The snack was tasty, and the fire warm, but not as warm as the feeling in your stomach as you rested your head against Minho's shoulder in the night, his arm secure around you.

"Y/n?" Minho whispered, thinking you had fallen asleep; you didn't, but you were too tired to mutter any kind of response back. "Jagiya, I need to tell you something... maybe it's better to say it now and just have it out in the open." He sighs, and it's a while before he talks again. "You saved my life. I don't know what I would have done if I hadn't found you, where I would be. Certainly not here, I hate this place and the things they do and cover up. But you needed help, and I couldn't let you die. I stay here for you, do you know that?"

The night is quiet, save for your breathing and the sound of crickets and other bugs, but Minho's mind is loud and racing and he can't help but confess everything to you. How he couldn't imagine life without you, how you mean the world- no, the universe to him. The way he didn't think he'd even still be here if you hadn't come along, whether by the nature of the world now or by his own hands. Saying all these things thinking you'd drifted off, but you were more awake than ever.

"What do you think happened to him?" Han's voice brings you back, and you notice the way the night has taken over. "Minho. Since he lied for us."

"They value him a lot there, so I doubt there were any real repercussions as long as he kept up the act." Looking into the dark water and seeing the way your legs disappear, you shiver. "Can we go back to the others now?"

"Oh! Yeah, of course. Are you cold?" Han rubs his hands up and down your arms and you snort. "Why are you laughing? The water is gonna be colder than earlier and you're still recovering, I don't want you to get sick."

Right. Recovering. Time with Han had let you briefly forget all the shit that happened, existing in the moment with someone who didn't look at you like someone who might break any second. You saw the way their eyes lingered on you when you walked past into the water, the way Hyunjin and Jeongin tried not to stare as you struggled to take your shirt off. Even Chan as he let you walk away to the others, worry etched in his face.

"I'm fine." You grumble, opting to get in the water before he could say anything else. Struggling to keep your head above water, you only make it so far until he's caught up, trying to get you onto his back again. "I'm not a baby! Let me do this!"

"No, you're not a baby, but you're also not a strong swimmer." Han says, still trying to grab your arms.

Ignoring his comment, you continue to splash your way to the dock, but your arms and legs are getting tired quick. You stop for a moment, struggling to take a breath, and notice how damp your face has gotten. Assuming it's just the water, or maybe sweat, you're confused when Han is in front of you with a concerned look on his face. That's when you realize you're crying- again. And the realization makes you cry harder, upset with yourself for becoming so soft, for breaking down over and over and over again, for letting yourself be vulnerable in front of others.

"Hey, hey, hey." Han is wrapping his arms around you, keeping you from letting yourself sink. "What's going on in that pretty head of yours?"

"Everything is so stupid-" You choke out, cold arms reaching around his neck to stay afloat. As you keep talking, he slowly starts moving your bodies back to land. "Recovery is stupid, feeling sad is stupid, getting hurt over dumb words is stupid."

"Why is it stupid to be human?" He asks softly.

Hans words sit between you, and you don't know what to say.

"Y/n?" Han only stops for a moment, focusing entirely on you.

"I shouldn't feel this way." You say. "I should be back on my feet and not dwelling on some accident that happened. This world doesn't let you do that."

"So make it do that," Han says, like it's the most obvious answer in the entire world. "We all have our moments. Yeah, we can't always stop and let it take over, but we have to let ourselves feel it eventually or that's what's gonna kill us in the end." He shakes his head and begins to move again. "Not zombies, not the military, but ourselves. We're all zombies already in a way, eating away at ourselves in the name of self-preservation."

"That is definitely one way to put it." You laugh. "But I think I get what you mean."

Sand grazes your toes and you detach from Han, hopping back up to the dock and helping him up. Your shirts are soaked and heavy as they hang from your bodies, sticking to your skin uncomfortably.

"Y/n!" Chaeryeong comes jogging up to your side with two things in her hands. "I got you a towel and a fresh sweater. There are closets full of clothes in there if this doesn't fit. Check this out-" she does a spin to show you the back of her grey shirt, stark white angel wings on the other side.

"Oh, you're a cool girl now!" You take the things from her, giggling. "Thank's Chaerry."

"No problem." She smiles, then looks at Han. "Sorry, I didn't think to grab you something..."

"Eh, I can dry by the fire." He shrugs.

With a final nod, Chaeryeong returns to the fire Chan has started- if you can call it that yet. There are just a few pieces of wood barely smoking in the pit. Han shifts in front of you, blocking your view of the others. When you look up at him, he's straining his neck in the opposite direction.

"What are you doing?" You ask, giving him a weird look.

"Blocking the others from seeing you change." He answers with his head still turned away; that must be painful.

"Oh," is all you can say, an ache in your chest at his words.

It doesn't take long for you to discard your wet shirt, tossing it to the side with a schlap. Tapping on Han's chest to signal you're done, he turns his head back too soon and whimpers in pain, rubbing the back of his neck.

"You didn't have to do that, I could have gone inside." You say, reaching up to replace his hand with yours, massaging his neck. He's close; you can feel his breath on your cheek.

"I know," He says, and once you're done soothing his pain, you walk to the fire that's actually a fire now, and join the others.

"And then, get this, he threatened me! Me! Can you believe that?" Hyunjin is scoffing, hand in the air.

"Yes, actually, I can get how the guy whose gun you stole threatened you," Seungmin points out.

"But I didn't-"

"No, you just let it get stolen by your best friend-"

"Enough! Enough, please don't start an argument when I'm trying to cook us a nice dinner to enjoy on a nice night where we can actually have a nice time." Chan groans.

For a moment, no one talks, but then Seungmin leans over to Hyunjin. "How many times do you think he can say nice in one sentence?"

"Poor guy, old age is making him forget his vocabulary." Hyunjin says with a fake, sad sigh.

"I was going to say the same thing," Seungmin laughs quietly.

You sit next to Seungmin in an empty lawn chair, Han sitting across from you next to Chan. Chaeryeong is already falling asleep on your other side, Felix and Jeongin off in their own world next to her. Listening to Hyunjin and Seungmin bicker as you eat gives you a strange sense of normalcy, like two siblings on a family vacation to their cottage. As you place your plate on the pile by Chan's feet, you make eye contact with Han, who is placing his down too. He retracts his arm, letting you place yours first, and you smile at him. Reaching behind his leg, you watch Chan bring out the stale marshmallows Han had mentioned before as you sit back down.

Everyone is silent as they roast them over the fire, some blankets that Chan had ready being passed around. When you go to throw the other half of yours over Chaeryeong, you notice her pouting and her glossy eyes.

"Chaerry?" You nudge her arm gently and she appears to zone back in, a single tear dropping from her eye.

"Hannah would have loved this." She whispers, but it's heard by the rest in the quiet night.

Instinctively, you look at Chan, but his eyes are focused on Chaeryeong, lips pressed tightly together. He closes the bag. "She would have, you're right. Let's save some for when we get her back, yeah?"

No one speaks as he ties the bag closed. You accidentally burnt your little ball of sugar, but eat it anyway; it feels almost disrespectful not to. Jeongin is the first to go, excusing himself to bed. He's followed by Seungmin, then Felix, then Chaeryeong. The silence between you, Chan, Han, and Hyunjin has returned to comfortable, sleepy energy surrounding you. Finally, Chan and Han both head inside, leaving you alone with Hyunjin. Thinking it'll become awkward, you're about to head inside yourself.

"I'm sorry for what I said." Hyunjin says, the ghost of a pout on his lips. "I didn't mean it, I was just angry."

"I get it," You lie.

Hyunjin looks at you, really looks at you, and he's still as pretty as ever. The firelight glows against his skin, and you can see every little detail including your favourite, the mole under his eye. You can't count how many times you placed a soft kiss right there, whispering into his skin how unique it was.

"No, you don't." He says. "I called you a liability, who does that?"

"You?" You try to joke, but it doesn't land. "Sorry."

"Don't be." Hyunjin switches to the seat next to you that Seungmin abandoned. "Listen, no one here is doubting you. Nobody. Not even Han-" He cuts himself off, head turning away but eyes staying on you. "...what's going on between you guys?"

"What?" Your eyes widen and you sit up, at a loss for words.

"We've all seen you guys acting like lovebirds all of a sudden! Did it really only take some life endangerment to finally work up the courage to ask you out?" You're more confused than ever, and Hyunjin can tell he said more than he should have. "Forget I said that..."

"Yeah, I think I will." You laugh. Han, liking you? As in romantically? Han Jisung? You? Please. "Anyway, what you said is in the past. It doesn't matter now."

"What? It does matter," Hyunjin sits up in his chair, leaning his arm onto your chair. "Of course, it matters. Why would you say that it doesn't?"

"Because, I don't know... after the whole getting kidnapped by zombie-eating humans thing, hanging onto stuff like that seems unimportant." Hyunjin doesn't speak, just keeps looking at you with sad eyes, flickering fire reflecting in the dark of his iris. "You don't agree."

"No, I don't," He sighs. "My words hurt you and caused that whole fucking mess, so yeah, I don't agree one bit. You can't compare your physical and emotional pain, okay? Once you start doing that, you'll lose yourself, and we can't have you gone Y/n. We can't."

"Why do you care so much?"

He scoffs, actually scoffs, and you're confused. "You've become so important to our little family, you have no idea."

"But you said-" He cuts you off.

"Forget what I said!" Hyunjin clasps your closest hand in his. "I was angry, I wasn't thinking. Obviously, there was some truth in it, but only if we go back in time to when you were lying unconscious with a broken leg and we didn't know what would happen. None of us think that way about you anymore, no doubts or worries about whether you can handle yourself. If something happened to you, none of us would be okay. Me included. I still care about you, a lot."

The burning feeling behind your eyes has returned for the third time that night, but maybe it's what you need. To let yourself be seen by the others, truly, completely seen. Not the you who you present, who you act as, but the authentic you. Starting with Chan, then Han, now Hyunjin. One by one, you're beginning to learn what it's like to let people in.

"Can we go to bed now?" You whisper, holding his gaze.

"Of course." He brings your hand up to his lips, leaving a soft kiss there before helping you out of your chair.

Wincing, you clutch your side where the worst of the bruising is, holding onto Hyunjin with your other hand. Pain throbs underneath your fingers, somehow sharp and dull at the same time. When you try to move, the pain worsens. You must have overexerted yourself in the water, and now it's catching up to you.

"Here," Hyunjin guides your hands around his neck. "On three, you jump. One... two... three."

You do as he says, wrapping your legs around his waist, and you feel his arm come around your lower back to keep you secure. He starts walking and you can already feel sleep taking you, burying your head into his neck. The next thing you feel is the firm mattress under your body and the warmth of Hyunjin's chest.

"I enjoyed our time together," You say sleepily, angling your head up to look at Hyunjin with closed eyes, too heavy to open again.

"Me too," He presses a kiss to your forehead. "Me too, Y/n."

"We weren't made for each other, were we?" But you already know the answer.

"No," Hyunjin whispers. "Not like that. But we were- are, meant to be here together, with each other. I love you, you know that, right?"

"I love you too."

Your heart is racing with the confession, words you've only ever uttered a few times in your life. To your parents, before they died, to Minho, Seungmin. Yet you know you'd tell the rest you loved them if they were in this room with you two, too sleepy to hold back your emotions.

Crrk... crrrrrrkk... crrrrkk...

"What is that?"

Seungmin catches your eye from where he's sitting on the floor, hands feeling over the rough, matted carpet. You're standing right outside the bedroom where Hyunjin lies still asleep, door shut softly behind you. A strange crackling noise was enough to wake you, venturing out to the open space beyond your door. What you didn't expect to see was Seungmin already investigating, starting to pick at the carpet where it appeared to be cut in a square shape.

"There's a keyhole," Seungmin says. "But no key."

"A keyhole?" You walk over to him and lean over his crouched body to inspect the floor, and there is, in fact, a keyhole. It's embedded into the floor, just barely covered by the carpet fibers. Although there was no key, that was no problem. "Move over."

"Bossy," Seungmin comments, but shifts over.

Taking a bobby pin out of your hair, you begin to pick the lock. It's a skill you learned from Minho before the QZ, one you used often to sneak into the kitchens late at night. You're thankful he taught you what he did, otherwise you wouldn't be looking down a dark hole in the ground now, a dim light coming from somewhere beyond your sight.

"You coming?" Seungmin asks as he descends down a grungy, metal ladder. It creaks as he makes his way down, threatening to break from the wall. You wait until he's on the ground to climb down yourself.

The space is small, only meant for one or two people you assume. Directly behind you is a table secured to the wall, papers, pencils, and various scraps splayed across, but one thing stands out.

"Is that-" You gasp.

"It is." Seungmin confirms.

A radio- small, but still working when Seungmin flips a switch. It crackles to life, but doesn't last long; you frown at the machine.

"Here," Seungmin is under the table fiddling with some wires. "Something got unplugged."

When it turns back on, you lean against the table and watch Seungmin sit, playing with the dials and whatever else he feels like. You never quite understood how he worked his magic with these small machines.

"And- crrkk- but you didn't hear that- crrrrrrk-"

"Almost..." Seungmin mutters to himself.

"Anyway, for those tuning in for the first time-"

"Aha!" Seungmin tries to suppress his smile as he leans back in the rickety old chair, listening to the broadcast.

"I'm your host, Cadet Seo Changbin. Welcome to Military On The Road!"

Your head whips toward Seungmin, speaking at the same time. "Changbin?!"

▪︎▪︎▪︎

notes ▪︎ BINNIE !!!!!!!!!

─── taglist : @chaeryred @toplinelix @channie-143 @staysinbloom @manuosorioh @hanjisunglover @xxstrayland @puppyminnnie @hanjsquokka @kpopsstuffs @ot8girlfie @quokkabite @linoslawayslinos @reapers-lover @hannieslittlerockstar @kiki0113 @nishiriks @nxtt2-u @moonlightjam @hannieslovebot @minmininnie @8lives1heart @skzswife @emi-han @alisonyus

green means i can't tag you!

#⋆₊‧⁺˖⋆˚.⋆ ͙͘͡★ LOOK UP TO THE STARS #skz #stray kids #han jisung x reader #han jisung x fem reader #han jisung #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #zombie au #zombie apocalypse au #skz zombie au #han jisung fanfic #skz fanfic #stray kids fanfic #skz series #han jisung series

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prettyboypistol · 7 months ago

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Accidental Kisses! || TNG Star Trek x Male!Reader

William Riker

You stumbled down the stairs while he was walking up, Willaim lunged to catch you, which knocked your lips together.

"Oh- are you alright, Lieutenant? You took quite a tumble."

You apologize for stumbling into him and kissing him, to which he smiles and waves it off as an accident. After all, there was no harm in it!

Afterwards, he absentmindedly licks his lips and tastes your chapstick, reminding him of the encounter. His cheeks tinge pink- hopefully his feelings still remain a secret

Worf

As Worf's assistant and Assistant Chief of Security, Worf expected you to be in peak physical condition- this kiss happens while sparring- he tackled you to the ground, and in the struggle, you two share a rough kiss.

Worf pins you down by the neck and arms, which effectively left you prone. He mumbles "That better have been an accident." You nod frantically and he releases you.

Apologized for getting too rough with you- blaming it on reflex more than actual aggression. You apologize for the kiss, which still haunts his sweetest dreams to this day.

Data

You had no idea what the fuck happened. Suddenly, you were saying "hi" to Data in the rec room, then his hands were on your cheeks as he kissed you with a mountain of electricity tingling behind his lips.

"What? the hell?" You manage to sputter out, Data seemed confused.

"Apologies if I startled you. I was giving you an authentic European greeting from Earth. Did you feel appropriately greeted and our relationship assured?"

"Data- I- first of all, not all of Europe kisses to greet, NEXT OF ALL, THEY KISS THE CHEEKS!"

Geordi La Forge

It was a moment of excitement shared between you two- a project you both had spent countless nights on performed without a hitch in front of the investors. After the meeting, you two were so excited and hugging- it just sorta... happened.

"Oh- oh my god- I'm so sorry." Geordi apologized quickly as he recoiled away from the hug. "It was an accident."

"Yeah- we were just excited, totally an accident on both ends." You respond just as quickly as your cheeks burn up.

Alright, this kiss isn't an accident. He's pissing you off by bothing you during your work, begging for you to entertain him. He wants a human experience! He already looks like one in this form! Do something human!

So, you punched him in the gut, then kiss him roughly- tongue invaded his mouth in a way that made his eyes roll back into his skull at the feeling of being properly paid attention to- even more than expected!

Q finally shut up for a good while as he behaved himself- at the promise of more of those. So, he sat down next to your station and waited patiently for you to be done with our work- then he kissed you!

His kiss was- well, it was Q, what did you expect?

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strawberrygummiess · 19 days ago

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the nutcracker.

chpt. 2 | chapter 3: waltz of the snowflakes the nutcracker x reader heartslabyul x reader 2.6k words cross-posted on ao3 "You cup your hands around your mouth and puff hot air into them. You notice the bed of your fingernails are turning purple. “What gives? It wasn’t cold when we got here!” “Hmm…” He looks around. “The Pixies must know we’re here now. They’re welcoming us with fresh snow for winter.” On cue, it begins to snow. It starts light, a few snowflakes landing delicately on your nose. The snow made the forest glow beautifully, snowflakes shining like stars in the blue light. If you weren’t so cold, you would fall back into the pillowy ground and soak up the snow. Instead, you shivered in The Nutcracker's grasp, watching the landscape dramatically change. "

You didn’t know what to expect after you crossed through the mirror.

Truthfully you didn’t think you would go through the mirror at all. You figured you’d push your hands into the solid glass and wake up from this strange dream. And yet when you pressed your hand against the glass, your fingers slowly inched forward, moving through like water. And then, when you brought your whole body through, you were in a completely different world. Gone was your room in Ramshackle. Now you stood in ankle-deep snow surrounded by trees that almost shone blue in the light.

Despite standing in the snow, you didn’t feel cold. You were still in your pajamas, (and you had quickly thrown on a pair of real shoes before leaving.) but even in a weather-inappropriate outfit, no chill or ice fills the air, feeling more like a spring day.

You walked alongside the Nutcracker, sneaking glances at his profile. His gaze was focused and determined, as it was during the mouse battle. He moved robotically, one side lifting awkwardly when he took a step. It looked unnatural for him to walk, and you couldn’t decide if it was because he just came alive, or if he was trapped in a nutcracker’s body.

You didn’t even know his name. The last time you asked, he avoided the question. And based on his quiet demeanor, he would never tell you of his own volition. Conversation starters flew through your mind: “So, you never answered me earlier- who are you?”; “Why does everyone here look vaguely familiar?”; “Has this place always been in my mirror? Do you happen to know a nice mouse named Mickey?” You sigh, shaking your head defeatedly. None of these questions would warrant a satisfying answer from him- he’d shut down as soon as you pried too much for his liking. You were no closer to understanding him, or the land he was taking you through.

While you were walking, the weather began to shift. Slowly the air got cooler until you were shivering and watching your breath puff out before you. The snow got tougher to move through, the ice melting through your shoes and soaking your feet uncomfortably.

“Why did it get so cold suddenly?” you huff, clutching and rubbing your arms. You’re regretting not bringing a coat with you. You sniffled miserably, nose running and dribbling due to the wind.

You glanced at the Nutcracker. Besides his awkward gait, he seemed to pay no mind to the sudden freezing temperature, wooden eyes still cast forward. If he heard you, he made no indication that he did, ignoring your question to trek forward. You purse your lips, annoyed. Maybe he didn’t want to answer personal questions, but writing you off completely was irritating.

“Hey,” you prompted, touching his arm. Despite the frigid air, the wood was still warm. You let your hand linger on his shoulder, indulging in the small bit of warmth in the freezing forest. “I don’t know if I can keep moving through this, I don’t have the right clothes, and it's freezing,”

The Nutcracker turns his head towards you, eyes cast downwards at your hand on his shoulder. He hesitates for a second, as if not expecting you to touch him before he finally looks at your face.

You must be in worse shape than you thought because his eyes widen in shock at the state of you. For all you know, you’ve turned into a walking icicle.

“Your lips are blue. Are they supposed to do that?” The Nutcracker moves your hand from his arm and cradles you into his chest, attempting to warm you up like he already knows the answer. The wood is slowly getting colder, but you greedily take whatever warmth is left, pressing your cheek into his chest.

“No!” You cry cupping your hands around your mouth and puffing hot air into them. You notice the bed of your fingernails are turning purple. “What gives? It wasn’t cold when we got here!”

“Hmm…” He looks around. “The Pixies must know we’re here now. They’re welcoming us with fresh snow for winter.”

On cue, it begins to snow. It starts light, a few snowflakes landing delicately on your nose. The snow made the forest glow beautifully, snowflakes shining like stars in the blue light. If you weren’t so cold, you would fall back into the pillowy ground and soak up the snow. Instead, you shivered in The Nutcracker's grasp, watching the landscape dramatically change.

“The Pixies…?” you ask, watching the trees as the branches frost at the tips. It looked like dew; crystal clear drips gracing each branch. Most of the trees in the forest were bare, leaves long dead due to the winter air, but the ice acted like fresh leaves, weighing the branches down until they bowed to the ground.

“The Snow Pixies to be exact… they’ll go dormant once winter ends, but until then…” The Nutcracker looks up, extending an arm into the sky as if inviting snowflakes into his hand.

After a second, he brings his arm down to your eye level. In his hand, is a little blue pixie.

“Oh!” you gasp in shock. A boy, as tall as the Nutcracker’s hand, beamed at you, a lazy glint in his eye. He was multiple shades of blue: his skin was almost white, a tinted sky blue that contrasted against his royal blue hair. Under his right eye was a snowflake tattoo, a deep warm blue that popped against his skin.

That definitely felt familiar.

“Hello there,” you greet, leaning in closer. He flutters his wings at you, giving you a boyish grin as he flutters up from the Nutcracker’s hand to get even closer to your face. “Are you the one making it so cold?”

His laugh rings out clearly; little jingles like a bell, as he presses a hand against your nose. He’s so cold he burns, and the action shocks another gasp from your lips. He laughs again and presses his face into your cheek, and to your surprise, it’s much warmer than his hand. His kisses shock your skin, the switch from frigid to scalding, and you huff again.

“If you are, I don’t appreciate it. I nearly froze to death out here,”

The pixie jingles again, pressing a hand to your face as a warning, before pressing apology kisses above your brow. Eventually, once he’s done one side of your face, he pulls back and sighs dramatically, draping his body on your shoulder in exhaustion.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” you move him to your hand (noticeably smaller than the Nutcracker’s) and bring him up to your ear. “Are you tired?”

“Very!” He squeaks. You grin excitedly, happy to be able to hear him. “You’re huge!”

You frown. Maybe his silence was a blessing.

“Could you help me? We’re trying to find the Sugar Plum Fairy, but I can’t find them if I freeze out here. Could you call your friends to help warm me up?” You ask, already feeling the chill return to the left side of your face.

“Ugh, actually,” he says sheepishly. “I’m not on good terms with my liege, currently. Don’t know how open he is to helping visitors right now,” he laughs again, bells ringing in your ears. “You might be all out of luck little human,”

The Nutcracker grabs the pixie quickly, lifting him by the wings in his wooden hand. “That will not do. Call upon any Snow Pixie you can find and tell them I sent for them.” He lectures.

They converse for a second, the pixie ringing in disagreement before finally fluttering off in a huff, leaving a trail of blue snowflakes lingering in the air. You don’t know how the Nutcracker could hear him- especially with wooden ears. You attribute it to his affinity for magic. Either way, you are left in the cold again with your Nutcracker.

“Is he getting help?” You ask, looking up at him. He nods, watching the pixie until his glow fades into the distance. “Good… I hope he comes back soon,”

You don’t know how long you were left alone in the snow. You’re shivering again, leaning into the Nutcracker, desperate for warmth. He holds you princess-style, lifting your feet from the snow to keep them dry. You feel weak, eyes struggling to stay open as your body succumbs to the winter chill.

“So much for a welcome,” you mumble—the Nutcracker hums in agreement, pulling you tightly to his chest. “It’s more like a farewell,”

“Silence that talk at once,” The Nutcracker hisses. “You must stay alive for your cat,”

You sigh pitifully. Grim. Of course. You have to find Grim. You have to go home. But you’re so cold. And so tired. You could close your eyes- for just a second, and take a small nap before the pixies return.

Little jingles make you drowsily open your eyes. The little pixie boy is back, fluttering around your face, saying something you can’t understand. He says something else, but you shake your head.

“I can’t hear you when you’re that far away. Come closer to my ear,” your hands shake as you point to the side of your head. You hear the fluttering of his wings when he gets closer, and the tickle of his body as he settles on the side of your head, leaning over to talk into your ear.

“Hey! Shapen up! I brought you my Queen, so show some respect!” He cries into your ear. You look around and find a sky full of blue lights, glittering and jingling like stars and bells. The sound is magical, ringing out into the forest in a melody unfamiliar to your ears, but beautiful, nonetheless.

“Oh. Thank you,” You say, watching a group of pixies fly towards you. “I must apologize, Your Majesty, but I am inappropriately dressed for your gifts,”

They jingle in response, and you smile, not understanding.

“You broke Rule 457 with your attire! It clearly states that on Saturday mornings, humans must wear pink-striped pajamas and a green plaid peacoat when visiting the Forest of Fir! You must study the laws of the land before you visit!” The Queen squeaks- so loud you can hear him despite his distance from your ear. He flutters close to your face- to the displeasure of his retainers, who struggle to follow him at his speed. He’s smaller than the other pixies, but his size doesn’t stop his poise- he stands straighter and more refined than your friend. He shares the same blue color scheme, this time with decorated royal robes fitting of a Queen.

“What say you-“he halts when he sees the state of you so close, eyelashes decorated with snowflakes and lips chapped and blue. Your skin is pale, eyes unfocused and lazy as you smile again.

His retainers chime among themselves at your condition. You hear the squeaks of the pixie by your ear: “Yeah, according to the hunk of wood, they’re dying out here. But I don’t know, they look like us now, don’t they?”

One flutters to your ear to scold the boy by your ear. “Humans aren’t supposed to be blue!” he cries. This one has a tattoo on his opposite eye, acting as a perfect pair to your friend. “They will die if they don’t get warm!”

“You didn’t tell me that human!” your friend cries, panicked. “I thought you were being dramatic!” He flutters off your ear to join the Queen who nervously floats around your face, analyzing your condition.

“It is quite rude to let a guest of the Fir Forest pass in my presence.” The Queen says. “Very well, we shall help you, but I expect you to brush up on the laws of this land before your next visit,” He nods to his retainers, a pixie in a dashing hat, and one with a ponytail, before raising his scepter to your nose.

The pixies jingle again, the beautiful bell melody filling your ears again as they dance around you. The shades of blue are beautiful, they move like a sparkling sea around your body, as they chant a spell around you.

You don’t know how ice fairies can warm you up, but you slowly regain feeling in your fingers and toes, and soon find yourself more alert as your body returns to your natural temperature. The pixies are almost dancing, blue sparkles and snowflakes drifting around you in an ethereal display of magic. You’re mesmerized by their work, watching as flurries of snowflakes shoot around you in a circle, encasing you in a warm icebox. You glance at your Nutcracker, surprised to find him looking at you.

Even with his limited expressions, you see the affection in his eyes.

Flustered, you return your glance to the pixies, who are nearing the end of their spell. The Queen flies forward, lifting his scepter from your nose to the sky, and you watch in awe as the forest fills with a beam of bright light and snow. The snowflakes around you settle, and the bells cease as the pixies return to the forest.

You are left with your friend, the original pixie, who flies around you, checking to see if you’ll survive the rest of the journey. He rings out, looking confident at the sight of your face, no longer pale and sickly.

“Thank you,” you smile warmly, pressing your index finger to your lips. You press it lightly onto his head, ruffling his hair even with your slight touch. He glows the brightest blue you’ve seen thus far, flustered and embarrassed, before ringing out again and flying into the distance.

The Nutcracker sets you down once he’s gone, ensuring you’ve warmed up completely. You feel rejuvenated, excitedly flopping into the snow once he puts you down. It’s the softest snow you’ve ever felt, pillowy and cloudlike under your fingers. You don’t feel the chill, instead feeling the plushness of a warm blanket. You sigh as you relax in it, happy to indulge in the Snow Pixies’ welcome gift at last.

“Why would Snow Pixies have warming spells anyway?” you ask, moving your arms and legs to make a snow angel. “It seems counterintuitive,”

“It’s not a warming spell. They made you resistant to the frost.” The Nutcracker says, extending his arm to you. You pout but grab it anyways, dusting the snow off your pajamas. You did have a mission, but after nearly freezing to death, you wanted to enjoy the magical snow. “It seems the side effect is wanting to play in the snow,” he chuckles, watching you attempt to make a snowball.

Once caught, you drop it, watching it splat in front of your feet. You give him a sheepish grin. “Right. I should focus. We gotta find Grim. And the Sugar Plum Fairy.” He nods in agreement and points into the distance.

“Just beyond the forest, there’s a village named Confiserie. We’ll travel through and ask for anyone if they know the whereabouts of the Sugar Plum Fairy,” he says, moving forward in the direction of the town. “

Grabbing the Nutcracker’s arm, you pull him forward, spirit renewed after your near-death experience. “All right then, tally ho, Nutcracker! Let’s get out of this forest and rejoin civilization, shall we?”

If he could grin, you’re sure he would.

#twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #twisted wonderland #twst #disney twst #ace trappola #deuce spade #riddle rosehearts #i wont tag cater and trey because they're literally just mentioned once #sorry couldn't think of anything for them to do #ace trapolla x reader #riddle rosehearts x reader

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ilovetheriddler · 1 month ago

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Ooooh! I would love a little fluffy something with my space husband Data!!

Uhhhh ummm maybe bedtime??? He doesn’t need to sleep but I do!!

💚💚💚💚

I love this idea! Yes!!! Finally, some data fics! I hope data is in character enough, I tried to make sure that i didn't write him using any contractions, since he usually doesn't if i recall correctly? It's been a bit since I last watched TNG, I need to rewatch it again soon.... anyway, I hope that you enjoy it!

Do you dream?

(Star Trek) Data x F!Reader.

Word Count: 520.

Contents: Fluff! Bedtime Snuggles and Cuddles!

You let out an exhausted huff as you laid down. It was a fairly usual day on the enterprise, but man, were you tired. Data stared at you silently for a few moments, contemplating his next words.

"....I am not sure as to why you needed me to be here?"

"Because you're my boyfriend, is it so strange to want to snuggle with you while I fall asleep?"

A look of brief contemplation crossed Data's face before he seemingly accepts your reasoning for desiring his comfort.

"I suppose that is a within reason excuse as to why you would, but I must ask, do you consider me to be a good lover?"

"Oh, um... yeah? Why wouldn't I? I wouldn't be with you if I didn't think you were great!"

"...I see, very well then, I am glad that you enjoy my company."

You couldn't help but chuckle slightly at the unique and particular way that Data spoke and phrased his overall sentences. You found it to be quite endearing. He carefully went about getting into your bed next to you, pulling the covers over the both of you despite the fact that he wouldn't be sleeping himself.

He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you closer to rest against his chest. As you laid there, snuggling your face against the front of his uniform, a simple question popped into your head that left you curious.

"I've been wondering for a while now. Are you capable of dreaming?"

Data was quiet for a moment, giving your question a lot of thought and consideration before forming an answer to it.

"I am incapable of dreaming in the traditional sense, however i am able to review my memory banks whenever I put myself into a brief rest mode for diagnostics tests, so perhaps that could be considered a type of dreaming in itself?"

"Hmm.... that's actually really interesting."

After another moment of silence, he spoke up, inquiring about what you dream of.

"If you do not mind me asking, what do you dream of when you are asleep? Do you remember them, or are they more fleeting and forgettable?"

"Umm... let me think.... I guess most of them aren't really too memorable, but i do occasionally dream of you.... usually of us getting married.... to be entirely honest..."

He seemed a bit surprised at your answer. You often dreamed of marrying him? How intriguing. Data shifted his hold on you, moving one of his hands to rest on your cheek, resting there gently.

"....I do not understand why you would wish to marry me, i think it would objectively be better if you married someone capable of actually... feeling love and passion for you."

"Don't be ridiculous Data! You feel more than enough love and passion for me to be happy! It doesn't matter if you don't experience or feel emotions in the traditional way. I truly believe that you just... experience them in your own way, and that's perfectly fine and one of the reasons why I love you so much!"

"... I am... very content with the fact that you feel that way...:

#star trek #star trek the next generation #data x reader #data soong #x reader #fanfic

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sailorkamino · 2 years ago

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your pet name {bad batch}

relationships: gn reader x bad batch

a/n: i tried to make this gender neutral. which name is ur favorite? his pet name can be read here

crosshair

• "don't start something you can't finish, doll."

• the first time cross calls you doll it's in a mocking tone. instead of snapping back you flash a pretty smile and call him something sweet in return. his heart stutters, ears turning warm. once the shock wares off he's pissed. you think you can fluster him and get away with it? not a chance in siths hell. (crosshair is the type to think you flirting = mind games and i stand by that.)

echo

• "stars, you're an angel"

• the only medics allowed near echo are tech and kix, even with them he's reluctant to ask for help but you can tell when he's in pain. one trek in hyperspace the cold is really making him ache. you bust out some prosthetic cream you purchased and offer a massage. he's excited because your hands on his body is a dream come true but he's also wracked with nerves and insecurities. yet the second you rub his sore shoulders he loses all filters.

hunter

• "hey sweetheart, can i borrow your body spray? i want my blacks to smell like you."

• you quickly realize that strong scents, even good ones, give hunter headaches so you go on the hunt (hehe) for something subtle but sweet. one day you try a woodsy, fruity body spray and hunter is attached to you like a leech, flirting that it's 'sweet like you.' he's literally a golden retriever boyfriend... meaning he wants your scent on all his belongings cuz it reminds him of you. also he can literally hear your heart beat so,

tech

• "can you hand me the spanner? thank you, starlight"

• tech is unflinchingly honest. it usually gets him in trouble but once in a while it works in his favor. one day you're sitting in the cockpit together, you're telling him about your latest interest, when he blurts out that you look beautiful in the starlight. his first reaction is to apologize for interrupting you because he genuinely does care what you have to say but then you're kissing him and nothing else matters.

wrecker

• "you're too cute to be scary, little tooka."

• the first time wrecker compares you to a tooka you're sleepily nuzzling into his chest. the next time you're pouncing on him playfully. he doesn't even stumble, wrangling you in his arms with boisterous laughter. doesn't matter how tall, big, or otherwise intimidating you are, to wrecker you're his baby. (cue the strong must protect the sweet gif)

#clone wars #star wars #the bad batch #bad batch #clone force 99 #bad batch x reader #tbb crosshair #tbb crosshair x reader #tbb hunter #tbb hunter x reader #tbb tech x reader #tbb tech #tbb wrecker #tbb wrecker x reader #sergeant hunter #clone trooper crosshair #clone trooper tech #clone trooper wrecker

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kyywritess · 8 days ago

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CHAPTER 6: KNOW ITS FOR THE BETTER

pairing: aged up!katsuki bakugo x fem!reader

summary: After six intense years in Japan, YN LN has firmly established herself as a renowned gym owner. She's known by many pros for her charm, strength, and boxing abilities. She has a strong support system and amazing friends... her life in Japan was everything she dreamed it would be.

But everything changes one fateful night when a mysterious package appears on her doorstep. No note, no return address—just a plain box wrapped with a single pearly pink ribbon. As she unravels the contents of the box, she’s drawn into a dark, twisted mystery that seems to reach deep into her own past—a past she thought she had buried when she left her old life behind.

wc: 2k

warning: Sexual concepts

an: A little flash back and filler chapter to prepare for the next chapters..! Also merry christmas to everyone who celebrates:) 🎄

---

FLASH BACK

“You know those things will kill you, right?”

James, seated in the driver’s side of the sleek black SUV, leaned his head out of the window, his sharp eyes narrowing as he caught sight of you puffing on a cigarette.

“I hope they do, honestly.” Your voice was dry, laced with equal parts sarcasm and resignation.

Tonight, you were meeting Anthony Moretti at an upscale, five-star restaurant. The past few months had been a whirlwind of undercover work, and the plan had gone far too smoothly—so much so that Moretti was falling hard.

You’d spent hours getting ready for this dinner, reluctantly submitting to a makeover that left you feeling anything but yourself.

“I smell like I bathed in my grandmother’s perfume,” you muttered, scrunching your nose as the overpowering floral scent lingered, burning your nostrils.

Leaning against the hood of the car, your eyes scanned the street, catching movement in the shadows across the way.

“That’s my signal,” you said, tossing the cigarette to the ground and grinding it beneath the white heel of your shoe. Straightening, you glanced at James and flashed a thumbs-up. “How do I look?”

He smirked, giving you a once-over. “Good enough. Now go.”

Rolling your eyes, you turned and began your trek toward the restaurant’s glowing entrance. It was an unassuming building from the outside, draped in dim fairy lights that gave it the appearance of a quaint little diner. But stepping inside told a different story. Crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling, and rows of expensive liquor bottles sparkled under the warm light.

A hand gently touched the small of your back, making you pause.

“Lily.”

Turning, you met the familiar gaze of Anthony Moretti. His dark eyes lit up as his lips curled into a charming smile.

“Anthony,” you greeted, mirroring his expression.

His gaze lingered, unabashed as he took in every detail of your appearance. “You look stunning.”

You were no stranger to his compliments—small remarks about your looks, your presence, the way you seemed to complete him. Usually, they went in one ear and out the other. But tonight, his stare burned a little too long, his words carrying a weight that sent heat rushing to your cheeks.

“Shall we?” he asked, extending his hand.

You hesitated for only a moment before placing your hand in his, allowing him to guide you to a private table tucked in the back of the restaurant.

The table was a picture of elegance—pristine white linen, flickering candlelight, and fine crystalware arranged with precision.

Your eyes drifted around the room, catching on an old bookshelf mounted high on the wall. One particular book stood out—a fictional tale of a mafia war intertwined with a doomed love story. The irony wasn’t lost on you.

Anthony noticed your wandering gaze. “Do you like to read?” he asked, his voice soft as his eyes followed yours.

“When I have the time,” you replied, a hint of longing slipping into your tone.

“I have a library at home. You should come see it sometime.”

The invitation caught you off guard, though you quickly composed yourself. This could be your chance to gather the intel you’d been after for months.

“I’d like that,” you said with a smile.

The next two hours passed in a blur of easy conversation and genuine laughter. You hated how natural it felt, how disarmingly charming Moretti could be. He was a gentleman through and through, a stark contrast to the ruthless criminal you knew him to be.

Walking out of the restaurant, he turned to face you, his earlier offer still hanging in the air.

“It’s late,” he said, “but my library’s always open. Or, if you’d prefer, I can take you home.”

You hesitated, glancing back at the car where James was undoubtedly watching from the shadows. He was going to kill you for this decision.

Reaching for Anthony’s hand, you smiled. “Let’s go see that library.”

Pulling up to his home, your breath hitched. The sprawling white mansion loomed before you, surrounded by a pristine iron gate and an expansive yard where two large guard dogs prowled.

“Your house is beautiful,” you said, unable to hide your awe.

“I bought it hoping to start a family someday,” he admitted, his voice quieter now. “It gets lonely here. Mostly just a few friends stopping by—it’s just me most of the time.”

The mention of a family made something twist in your stomach. You reminded yourself of the reality: the drugs, the murders, the chaos Moretti orchestrated with a simple word. Whatever innocence he portrayed, you couldn’t let yourself believe it.

Inside, the house smelled of sweet musk, warm and inviting, much like its owner.

“This way,” Anthony said, leading you toward the kitchen. He pulled two whiskey glasses from a sleek cabinet and poured the amber liquid with practiced ease.

“What makes you think I like whiskey?” you teased, leaning against the counter.

He chuckled. “You don’t strike me as a wine or cocktail kind of woman. And I remember what you ordered the night we met.”

So he paid attention.

Following him into another part of the house, you couldn’t help but notice how bare the walls were—no photos, no personal touches, just sparse decor.

“I don’t let just anyone in here,” he said as he opened a grand wooden door. “Feel special.”

Stepping inside, your breath caught. The library was breathtaking. Floor-to-ceiling shelves lined the walls, packed with thousands of books. A cozy reading nook sat at the center, complete with plush leather chairs and a soft throw.

“This…” You turned to him, eyes wide. “This is incredible.”

Anthony chuckled, shaking his head. “I’ve never seen anyone get so excited over a few books.”

“A few books? This is a lifetime’s worth!”

You couldn’t help yourself, running your fingers along the spines of the books, reading the titles as though committing each one to memory.

As you immersed yourself in the collection, Anthony moved closer, his gaze never leaving you.

“I find it endearing,” he murmured, “how you appreciate the little things.”

You didn’t respond, too captivated by the room. Picking up a book, you flipped it over to read the summary, only for him to step in behind you, his presence magnetic.

“Can I kiss you?” he asked, his voice barely a whisper.

Your stomach dropped. This wasn’t how the mission was supposed to go, but the line between duty and deception had blurred long ago.

“Yes,” you whispered, the word tasting like betrayal.

Anthony’s lips crashed against yours, hungry and demanding, his hands finding their way to your waist. You barely had time to think as he lifted you onto the edge of the desk, his movements urgent and deliberate.

This was about trust, you reminded yourself. About getting closer. About completing the mission.

But as his lips trailed down your neck, you couldn’t shake the feeling that you were losing control—of him, of the situation, and of yourself.

PRESENT

You remember that night as if it were yesterday—the sweet musk of his cologne still lingering in your senses, the hundreds of missed calls from James flashing relentlessly on your phone.

You had left Anthony’s house that night with a walk of shame etched into your every step. Telling him you’d call an Uber was a lie; James had been waiting for you all along, parked just outside the gates, his jaw clenched tight the moment you disappeared inside.

At the time, gaining Anthony’s trust was paramount. It was the centerpiece of the entire operation, the linchpin that everything depended on. So, you did what you had to do. Even if it meant betraying yourself, hurting others, and bracing for the therapy bills that would inevitably follow.

James was on the verge of murder that night. The sight of you descending those marble steps, heels dangling in your hand, mascara streaked down your cheeks, and an expression that revealed more than you intended—it made his blood run cold. And he wasn’t sure if he was angrier at you or at Moretti.

“It’s part of the plan,” you had told him, over and over. But he knew better. He knew you. He knew that night haunted you. That every time someone tried to get close, to reach the parts of you long buried, you would retreat into the walls you’d carefully built. Hide away until the risk of feeling something—anything—disappeared again.

Now, staring up at your ceiling, the weight of it all pressed down on you like a suffocating fog. You had chosen to stay in your own home tonight, weary of the endless games, waiting for Anthony Moretti to find you.

And yet, a part of you wanted him to find you. The faster this was over, the faster you could return to something resembling normalcy. The faster you could see your family again.

The thought of your family brought your gaze to the little black box hidden under your bed. A box filled with the fragments of a life you missed so deeply. You only ever opened it on holidays, birthdays, or nights like this—when the ache to speak to them was too much to bear.

Inside were hundreds of handwritten letters to your mom and dad. Letters you could never send, for fear it would all come crumbling down. The ink was smeared in places, marred by tear stains and trembling hands.

You never had the heart to throw them away. You kept them instead, tucked safely under your bed, clinging to the hope that one day they might read the words you couldn’t say in person.

Tonight felt like one of those nights. With a heavy sigh, you reached for a fresh piece of paper and a pen. Settling down at the desk, you began to write, pouring everything you had into the letter—just as you always did.

To Mom and Dad

Hi, it's me again. I've been sitting here for the past few hours, thinking about you both, and my heart feels a little heavier than usual. I miss you both so much. Life keeps moving, as it always does, but there’s something about being away from you that makes the days feel incomplete. I miss the sound of your voices, the way you always seem to know exactly what to say when I need guidance, and the simple comfort of knowing you're just a hug away.

I need to tell you something but promise you wont freak out. I'm going undercover again, but not as a hero. Anthony Moretti is back, and he's after me. I know after everything that happened, this isn't what you want to hear and I wish so badly I could come clean about everything and tell you right to your face. I know you guys would know what to say, how to coax me through this. But I promise I'll make it out alive this time. I'll take down Moretti and I'll come home.

Before I go though, I do have something to ask mom… dad stop reading if you're reading this.

Mom, before I left we never really had boy conversations. I was never boy crazy in high school, so I never asked for help before. But I'm asking for help now. Remember when I told you about Bakugo? The most self centered, mean, and harsh person i've ever met. Yeah well turns out he's none of those things at all. He's sweet, and he cares about his friends more than any other person I have ever met. He asked me to be his date to a hero gala. And I said yes- and I think I like him. But I'm scared.

What if he hates me forever when he finds out my secret. What if he can't look me in the eyes after he finds out everything I have done. Will he hate me? I hope he doesn't because I dont think Ive ever felt like this for anyone. And I'm scared because what if he doesn't hate me. What if he is sweet and understanding, how can I let him into my life without being scared? I need your guidance mom, more than ever.

Okay dad you can come back…

I hope to see you both soon, to sit together and catch up on everything we’ve missed. Until then, please take care of yourselves, and know that I’m thinking of you every single day.

I love you both more than words can say.

With all my heart, YN

---

TAGLIST: @emmaafinchh @iissza

#bakugou katsuki #bnha bakugo katsuki #bnha bakugou #katsuki bakugo mha #katsuki bakugo x reader #mha bakugou #bakugo katsuki #bakugo katuski #bakugo x female reader #bakugou x reader #chapter 6 #know its for the better #katsuki bakugou #dynamight #katsuki #mha x reader #mha #my hero academia #bnha

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userautumn · 2 months ago

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I feel so stupid for literally crying about bucktommy? I mean granted I have already been functioning at a zero out of ten due to *gestures broadly* so my emotions are on a hair trigger but like. my comfort show is not comforting right now when I need it most!!!

Baby I am going to hold your hand and say, 1) You're not stupid. Don't belittle your own emotions when there are enough people in the world who will do it for you, and 2) Watch Star Trek. I know this sounds like a bullshit response, I get it. "Jack, Star Trek isn't the answer for everything." I promise you it is. Go, wrap yourself up in a nice cozy blanket and dream about space. Or, if you don't want to do that, just know that I am holding you gently in my arms and kissing your forehead. Love you. 💕

#jack answers mail #Star Trek is THE comfort of all comfort #Even when bad things happen there's good #IDK. I am deeply earnest in this response. I'm not making light of your feelings. I hope you feel better

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angeliicheartt · 2 years ago

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ᴘʀᴇꜱꜱ

includes: rugby!james potter

fem!reader

a/n: since i carried this fic over, i don't have the original request but here's the actual work ^-^

you shied away from the flash of the numerous cameras surrounding you and your boyfriend as you walked into the practice gym. james had his duffle bag slung over his shoulder and you under the opposite arm, grinning ear to ear at the paparazzi attention. once the two of you got inside, james kissed the top of your head.

“you okay, lovely?” the boy murmured into your hair and you nodded. he knew you sometimes got overwhelmed by the attention that he got in public. you followed him to the changing room where he dropped his bag on the ground and swiveled to fully engulf you. you giggled into his chest as he littered the crown of your head with kisses.

“james you need to get changed,” you tried to be stern with the boy as he groaned.

“your coach will have my head if you’re late again.” reluctantly, james let go of you, opting to head towards his bag to grab his change of clothes.

“well we don't want that, do we?” the boy grinned.

soon he had finished changing and you two headed into the practice area, both of you still getting an earful from james’ coach. sirius bounded up to the two of you, wrapping his arms around his mate’s shoulders.

“were you two snoggin’ in there or what?” sirius asked, getting a jab to the side from james as his answer. james shrugged sirius off him as he kissed your cheek and left you on the sideline as his coach called him over. as you went to sit on one of the fold up chairs, you saw james’ empty water bottle. you grabbed it and left the gym to find a water fountain, fortunately, there was one right outside the gym that james was practicing. you unscrewed the top of the bottle and began to fill it up. as you were screwing the lid back on you felt a tap on your shoulder, after turning around, you see a press guy with a microphone in his hand and cameras behind him, however the cameras are pointed down at the moment.

“hi, i'm sorry to bother you, are you james potter’s girlfriend?” the reporter asked, unable to muster words, you only nod at the man.

“would you mind if we interviewed you for the press?”

“not at all.” you gave him a smile, you figured this would happen eventually, what with dating a rugby star.

soon the cameras were on you and the reporter held the microphone up to your mouth as you spoke. you droned on about how proud you were of james, and it even shocked you how easy it was to praise the boy. you’d been gone almost 30 minutes when james came looking for you, getting nervous at the amount of cameramen that had surrounded you, he started to trek towards you before he was stopped by the sound of your voice, confident and clear, praising him for all his work.

“..he’s come so far since high school, i’m overall just really proud of him, this has been his dream since i don't even know how long, and i'm just happy to be by his side during it.” you finished your spiel, getting thanks from the reporter as he closed the recording and headed towards the exit. swiftly you felt hands engulf your waist and turn you around. you could barely make out james’ face as he pressed his lips to yours. one hand still holding his water bottle you cupped his cheek and pulled away, a confused giggle leaving your slightly swollen lips.

“what is it, love?” you asked and he scoffed.

“what is it? you were practically singin’ my praises to those reporters, I have half a mind to ditch practice at this very moment.'' james retorted, kissing up the side of your face as you breathily laughed.

“come now, jamie, you need to get back to practice.” you pulled his hand as you led the way back to the gym, james in toe like a puppy.

“jamie? there’s no way i can resist you now, dove.” he grinned, following you into the gym, tuning out his coach’s scolds.

#𐀔 // elle writes !#james potter #james potter x reader #james potter x fem!reader #rugby!james #rugby!james potter #marauders

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perseephoneee · 5 months ago

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𝓒𝓱𝓪𝓹𝓽𝓮𝓻 𝓥𝓘

In which, you, a lady of the ton, are forced to participate in courting season. Except that courting season comes with one particularly silver tongued Prince who is making it his mission to drive you absolutely insane.

↳ fic masterlist ↳ ship exchange ↳ taglist

a/n: OOF, long time no see. Here's what happened: - I graduated college - I went to a masters certification program - I graduated THAT (not many can say they graduated college twice in one year, but I'm crazy) - My roommate at grad school became my best friend in the whole world. We watched all of Star Trek and the Thor movies. I got distracted writing her an 11k-word Thor fan-fiction. She wrote me a Loki fan-fiction - I came back to my home and ended up moving houses! - Now, all I day is apply to jobs, crochet, and take naps.

And that's what you missed on Glee.

It was to be expected; after all, you never really wanted to get married. Still, coming home from the ball to your grandmother’s expectant expression– it broke you.

“Well?” she questioned, arms crossed. She wore her evening best, a deep crimson against her now paling skin. “Are we planning a wedding?”

“No,” you mumble, looking at the floor. “He didn’t propose; he…decided against it.”

You expected yelling, insults, and anger radiating from every surface. Instead, your grandmother was quiet. You looked up, waiting for anything. She just looked at you, still. It was so much worse than you could’ve expected. “Grams?” you ventured, biting the inside of your cheek. She just sighed and rubbed her eyes, so exhausted by the encounter that it made you angry. You disobeyed the thing she asked you to do, you disappointed her, and embarrassed yourself in the process. Yet all she does is sigh. “Nothing at all?”

“So much like your mother,” Grams murmured, massaging her temple as a headache grew. “I’m tired, Y/N, I’ll be retiring to bed.”

You felt tears start to prick your eyes, even as your grandmother started to pull away. “Please,” you begged, unsure what you were even asking. Your voice sounded so quiet in the foyer.

“She could’ve married well; a duke,” Grams was already halfway up the stairs when she said it, almost to herself more than you. “She chose love instead, and look what good it did her.” Grandmother turned towards you then. “She ended up at the bottom of the ocean.”

You didn’t sleep well that night, in between the crying and the screaming into your pillow so no one could hear. When you did sleep, it was drowning. In the ocean. In disappointment. In everything.

Your father wasn’t of low status, but he was merely a lord. Not a Duke like your grandmother wistfully shared. He was a man of dreams who sought to create. He used to sit you and Ivy down in the garden and map out the constellations. Your brother could never sit still long enough to truly appreciate astronomy. Ivy enjoyed looking at the stars and embroidering them into blankets and other linens. You, on the other hand, were eager to learn. Your father would quiz you on all their names: Orion, Ursa Major, Canis Minor, Draco, and more. The story of Andromeda always made you curious but sad. You couldn’t imagine choosing between your people and your child, and yet you hated King Cepheus for being willing to sacrifice Andromeda at all.

“She was saved by Perseus, fell in love, and placed among the stars by Athena,” your father would console you when you started becoming quiet and contemplative.

“Why couldn’t she save herself?”

“It’s not always that easy,” your father sighed, petting your head. “The chains could’ve been too strong. Or maybe she felt that the least she could do for her people was to let herself die.”

Your mother always scolded your father for telling such dark stories, but you appreciated it. You didn’t like things being hidden from you, and ancient myths fascinated you.

When your parents went on their voyage with your brother to show off your father’s latest invention, you prayed to Perseus to save them from the sea. He was unable to.

After your third day of wallowing, Ivy entered your room and locked the door.

“This isn’t the sister I know.”

“I don’t want to talk,” you mumbled, curling into your chair. You had a settee set up by the window to get fresh daylight on your books and observe the outdoors. Ivy sat on your bed, curling up against the pillows.

“Love, it is not your fault.”

“I was unable to secure a proposal, the one duty asked of me,” you turned to glare at her. “That is the definition of ‘my fault.’”

“You fell in love.”

“Evidently not.”

“I did not mean with Prince Thor.”

You didn’t answer. You just kept looking down at your book, the words being nothing more than a distraction. You had been pondering Thor’s words for days. Loki was, on most days, an annoyance and, on other days, could be quite companionable. Did you love him? You were unsure. You didn’t hate him. Not as much as you would’ve liked.

“I knew it wouldn’t be Thor,” Ivy sighed, picking at the thread on your bedspread. “From the day in the park.”

You remembered that day. A traveling circus had come to town. Many families brought their children to witness acrobats, magicians, and more. There was even a traveling fortune teller that Loki loudly exclaimed wouldn’t have been able to tell a three of swords from a five of pentacles if it was staring her in the face. Ivy and Thor enjoyed watching the animals perform tricks, but like Loki, you could not stomach watching wild animals in captivity. You didn’t stay for the performance.

“There was a traveling book merchant, which you two spent so much time at,” Ivy chuckled. “It was the cellist that stood out to me.”

“She played beautifully.”

“She did, but you and Prince Loki were the only ones to appreciate it,” Ivy smiled. “Thor had already moved on to the next shiny thing. You stayed, though, the only one in the ton to be there for the whole set. You’ve always appreciated music, I wish you would play again.” You turned in your seat, looking at your sister. “You stayed there, and Loki stayed with you. He let you enjoy the music because it spoke to you more than anything else at the circus. And when she was done performing, and you lacked a proper way to give thanks, he offered up his own coins.”

“There was nothing special about that moment.” Even as you said it, you knew it wasn’t true.

“Grandmother is a smart woman, but she has one thing wrong.” Ivy turned her attention fully towards you. “You are headstrong, but most importantly, you are quiet. You are intuitive. Not like me, who enjoys laughter and bright colors. You see brightness where others see nothing.” Ivy almost laughs to herself. “You don’t need someone who can match your strength; you need someone who can match your silence.”

You felt like crying, and you weren’t sure why. Everything Ivy said was true. It always was; she knew you better than you often knew yourself. Confronting feelings, when so often you ignored them to avoid painful attachments, it made you want to suffocate.

“Ivy,” you murmured. She turned to you, the sun in a room inhabited by the moon. “I love you.”

“Well, of course you do!” she giggled, getting up and coming to your seat. She kissed the top of your head. “I’m brilliant.”

It was nighttime, and you wanted to talk to Loki. If you talked to him, you could decide if your feelings were real or if they were a lie. Maybe they were a thing fabricated by quiet moments or inspired by the stories you loved. You were thinking about this when you heard a storm pick up, the branches of the trees tapping against your window. This continued on until you realized there was no wind to accompany this tapping. You crawled out of your bed to go to your window and noticed it was a clear night. You jumped back with a yelp as another pebble hit the glass. Opening the latch, you peeked your head out and ducked as another pebble came flying. Loki stood with a pile of rocks outside.

“Loki!” you hissed, throwing one of the pebbles back at him. He avoided it with ease. “Why are you throwing rocks at me?”

“Because I do so enjoy it,” he chuckled, hands in the pockets of his breeches. “Or perhaps, because I wish to speak with you.”

“It is late and unbecoming of a lady to meet with a man unaccompanied.”

“Intriguing,” he shrugged. “I didn’t think you much of a lady.”

You glowered at that. You couldn’t possibly have feelings for this man who throws rocks at you and puts you in ridiculous situations. You leave the window, heading to your dresser and grabbing your riding boots. You were still in your nightgown, but you tied your robe over it, so you were at least a little modest. You went back to the window. He hadn’t left.

“You’re going to catch me,” you demanded, already swinging a leg over the banister and debating which bones would be broken if you made one misstep.

“Of course,” Loki smiled. He didn’t look ready to catch you whatsoever, but you had to put trust in the situation. So, you jumped out your window. And he caught you with ease. Much like one of the princes in the tales your father used to tell you. “What a pleasure meeting you here,” Loki smirked. You hit his chest, falling out of his arms and giving yourself distance. If your grandmother knew you were doing this, she would have you executed by morning.

“What do you want?”

“Is that any way to address royalty?” he furrowed his brows but didn’t sound angry. He sounded amused.

“What do you want, your Highness?” you sassed, crossing your arms.

“Well, I did not come out here for your startling wit,” Loki sighed. “I want to talk.”

“About?”

“Take a walk with me,” he gestured towards the gardens. Your grandma’s pride and joy were her gardens. It was one of the few things she did herself, without any help from the maids or other staff. “Please,” he added, and you acquiesced.

You followed him with a sigh, still keeping a respectable distance between you both. He was silent, and it wasn’t until you passed the hydrangeas that he spoke.

“Thor told me,” Loki said. You didn’t know how to respond to that, and you were unsure of what exactly Thor had told him.

“Did you come here to reprimand me for not being able to secure an engagement?” You scoffed. Loki stopped at a rose bush, fingers brushing over the petals.

“I confess, I don’t care much for roses,” Loki smiled at you. Like you were in on a secret, just you two. It made warmth grow in your chest.

“I don’t either.”

“What is your favorite flower, m’lady?” Loki took a step towards you. You would’ve backed up, but another bush was in your way, and you were stuck in his space.

“Sunflowers, or perhaps dahlias,” you murmured.

“Dahlias.” Loki smiled. “That doesn’t surprise me.”

“No?” you questioned, smiling back. “What did you expect?”

“Nothing ordinary nor expected of a young maiden.”

“Am I just a young maiden to you?” you lifted a brow.

“No,” Loki said. “You are not.”

It felt like nature took a pause on its sounds as Loki stared at you, his ice-blue eyes cold against your otherwise hot skin. He was much too close to be appropriate, and yet you didn’t want to push him away. You should push him away; the last thing you need is a scandal with the prince of Norway, but you couldn’t. Not when his gaze lowered to your lips. Not when his fingers touched your shoulder and then the lace of your collar. He brushed stray hair away from your face, and you felt yourself take in a shuddering breath. His thumb brushed over your lip, fingers cradling your chin. His breaths were heavy like he was holding himself back. You realized he was holding himself back from you.

“Loki,” you whispered, looking up at him. Something changed in his gaze, and he stepped back, letting the cold air kiss your skin where his hand once was.

“You should have brought a coat; it’s cold at night,” he whispered, refusing to meet your gaze. You just nodded, disappointment evident. He walked you back to your window. There were enough places for you to climb up yourself, something you used to do a lot as a child. He kept an even larger distance between the two of you as he waited for you to return to your rooms. Instead, in a fit of insanity, you reached up and kissed his cheek. You felt his breath hitch as you stepped back, curtsied, and scaled your wall. You didn’t turn back when you closed the window. You didn’t stop thinking of him even as you fell asleep.

taglist: @eleniblue @iwrite-things @youneedanap @huntress-artemiss @linaax @pisces-celeste @marygoddessofmischief @gruftiela @saay-karani @foxherder @lover-of-books-and-tea tea @lilaclaufeyson @qardasngan @evasmlp

#of vices and men #loki #loki laufeyson #loki x reader #loki laufeyson x reader #thor #thor odinson #bridgerton #bridgerton!loki #marvel #mcu #marvel x reader #marvel fan fiction #loki fan fiction #loki laufeyson fan fiction

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aclowntiny · 2 years ago

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May the Flirts Be With You- Seonghwa x Female!Cosplayer!Reader

It adds years to my life as a massive Star Wars nerd that a member of one of my ult groups is one too 🫶🏻 him making a May the 4th post = instant serotonin. It's 3 weeks late, but here's a corny little fun post for SW Day 😁

Word Count: 2394 | Conventions, Nerds to Lovers lmao, that trope I've accidentally created where Yeosang plays cupid | Warnings: the con is really generic because I didn't want to rip anything real off too much & have it be something they couldn't go to lmao, plus that way I could make other popular sci-fi references >:3

“Isn’t the cloak a bit much?”

"Come on," Seonghwa half-jokingly whined, "you said you were going to appreciate everything."

Yeosang had joined him at a sci-fi convention, something Seonghwa had always dreamed of attending. Artists sat at tables showing their amazing creations, groups of friends and family took pictures with signs and props, and of course the place was flooded with cosplayers and merch. They'd even passed by the 501st Legion.

"I do," Yeosang assured him, nodding towards an artist table stocked with hyperrealistic head sketches of the classic Star Trek cast, "like look at those. I don't even watch the show and I kind of want one."

"That's why they say these cons are so expensive, like look over there!" Seonghwa pointed eyes widening. "There's a guy selling discontinued Star Wars lego sets!"

"Oh, boy," Yeosang muttered, but with a smile as his hyung dragged him over to the man's table, where he started eagerly digging in, that childlike wonder Yeosang knew so well starring his eyes.

"This is a fun little ship," Yeosang commented, picking up a small packet, "I like the yellow."

Seonghwa turned, then gave a nod. "The Naboo Starfighter! That is cute, you should get it for your shelf."

"You know what, maybe I will."

"That's the spirit! As for me, I'm between the AT-TE and the TIE Advanced set."

"Go with the cheaper one."

Seonghwa stuck his tongue out at Yeosang, who mirrored the gesture, then giggled in spite of himself. He wasn't the only one who made the sound, though; Seonghwa swiveled around, ready to greet another lego enthusiast, but what he saw had his fingers involuntarily loosening, almost sending the (slightly overpriced, in his opinion) AT-TE set tumbling back onto the red-and-black tablecloth.

It was a girl, a young woman about his age, dressed head-to-toe in a perfect Princess Leia cosplay. And not the classic white outfit, but the Bespin gown and cape.

You made the red outfit look classically beautiful, and whether it was all your hair or some sort of wig or extensions, you'd braided it just right, the loops falling back and at each side of your face, which was focused on Seonghwa with a smile.

"Oh, sorry, you two were just funny. You look like a Jedi and his padawan having a spat."

Seonghwa tore his eyes off of you long enough to regard Yeosang. "I told you I looked like a Jedi!"

"You sure do," you added, tilting your head toward the boxes in his hands, "what are you looking at getting there?"

Seonghwa shakily lowered the AT-TE back to the table. "Oh, well, I think I'm going with the TIE Advanced set."

"Good choice," you loudly whispered, leaning a bit closer, "355 to that one's 794. A little under half the pieces, but a quarter of the price."

"That's what I thought, like the TIE is way more iconic too, sorry Battle of Utapau."

"Yeah, I'm more into the OG movies myself."

He nodded toward your cosplay. "I see that. Did you make that yourself, or buy the pieces?"

"Oh, no, I made this."

Seonghwa feels his jaw drop, warmth pooling in his chest at the way you giggle again, this time at his expression, which rises from shock to a wide, awed grin. "You- you really? How do you do it? How long does it take? One of my roommates just customizes regular clothes and it seems like he can spend hours."

"Oh, yeah, hours is about right," you chuckle, "but it feels like the hardest part is finding the right fabrics sometimes, like these thicker ones aren't at every fabric store."

"Yeah, you really sound like my friend," Seonghwa jokes, "but you look way better."

He flushes the moment the words leave his mouth, immediately stuttering backtracks. "Well, um, that is, I mean, he doesn't do cosplay, more just like paint and cutting stuff up and-"

"Don't worry, you wouldn't believe how many creeps have told me I should have gone with the slave look," your voice cuts into his ramble, "I'm not offended. I actually appreciate it, um...what was your name again?"

"Oh," he lit up, "Seonghwa. This is my first convention."

Introducing yourself, you smiled and waved a hand at the legos he paused the conversation to purchase. "And it looks like you're getting something out of it already."

"More clutter for his room," Yeosang supplied.

You laughed. "You don't want to see mine, then. Besides, I can't help but notice you bought a ship too."

"A tiny one!" Yeosang sheepishly defended himself, quickly laughing at the m-hm sound you made.

"That's how it starts. Get him addicted, Seonghwa."

He nodded. "I'm trying."

"That's the spirit," you said with a mischievous grin.

Seonghwa nodded, then felt his eyes start to lose focus from looking at your own. "Er, well, we'll see you around, (y/n)!" He waved, starting to turn and walk away with Yeosang, who immediately shoved him.

"Whoa, what's that for?"

"What do you think you're doing?"

"Getting back to the convention?"

"Don't you think you should talk to her?"

"What, and follow her around like a weirdo?"

"No," Yeosang fought, "invite her to go check out the voice acting stall or build your legos together or at least just take a picture with her to remember her by if you're too scared to do anything else."

Seonghwa frowned slightly. "I'm not scared."

"Ok," his long-haired friend shrugged, "then prove it."

"I will," he said with a satisfied smile as he turned on his heels, heading back for you.

"Oh, hey, (y/n)?"

You turned around too, white cape billowing around you like angel wings. He swallowed, trying not to stare too hard.

"Can we take a picture? I- I haven't really gotten many pictures with cosplayers, and-"

"Sure!" Smiling brightly, you accepted his proffered phone, taking a couple selfies that left Seonghwa feeling like a boiled lobster, he must be so red. He wasn't expecting you to put your arm around him, but he sure wouldn't complain, either. You also had Yeosang take a few head-to-toe ones so you could see your full outfits and the poses you guys did.

By the time you were done, you both were laughing, especially at one selfie you caught of all three of you where both you and Seonghwa posed and Yeosang just had the most confused expression. In another, you reached behind you to the book stall, each picking one up to pretend to read. Seonghwa made a shocked face at James Luceno's Tarkin, Yeosang mimed intense focus on Timothy Zahn's The Icarus Hunt, and you pretended to laugh at the bowl of petunias in Douglas Adams' The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy.

"Well, thanks!" Seonghwa exclaimed after your photoshoot, trailing off before Yeosang elbowed him from behind. "Er, well, I was wondering if you are on any social media for your cosplays?"

"Yup," you nodded, closing out your Photos app with a smile at all the new shots of you guys that had been added to your phone and sliding over to instagram, "Here's where I post a lot of my photos, but if you want to see anything more in-depth or show your fashion designing friend, I can give you my youtube."

Wow... "You have a cosplay youtube? That's so cool! I bet it's a lot of fun!"

"Sure, it's where I track progress, share my processes, and do hauls and stuff too. Oh, and these guys," you shook the box of lego you'd bought at the stall that introduced you, "will get built on there, too. Hey, would you wanna be in a video?"

This time, no elbowing was required. "On your channel? Yes, of course! We could build our legos," Seonghwa replied, feeling excitement rush to his face as he strolled past a life-size Dalek, fingers reaching out to gently brush the smooth dome atop the metal structure.

"For one, yes," you said, a hand reaching up to straighten your Leia braids, "but how would you feel about modeling a legit cosplay?"

His eyes flew open. "You'd make me a whole outfit?"

"Well, I need practice doing men's fits too," you giggled, swerving around a couple dressed as Zoë and Wash from Firefly, "and you have, like, perfect proportions."

Seonghwa's mouth opened and closed a few times, but he didn't know what to say to that. You didn't say any more, either, your interest suddenly captured by a stall selling Padme-inspired jewelry, including one thick silver choker that honestly captured Seonghwa's eyes too...

"So, uh, would you be interested?" You glanced back and forth between the stall and Seonghwa, the way your eyes peered up at him involuntarily raising the corners of his lips.

"As long as my outfit is as pretty as yours."

"Everyone's commenting asking if you're a professional model," you giggle at Seonghwa, glancing up at your phone as you hand him the bright orange brick separator.

He pries apart two misplaced lego pieces before meeting your eyes. "Me?"

"Yes, you," you fire back, closing your phone and leaning a bit closer, scanning first Seonghwa's progress, then his face, "have you seen yourself?"

Heat creeps back into his cheeks. "Yes, but I've seen you, too, so I know they should be asking that about you, not me."

"Wow, that was really smooth. No wonder I dressed you up as Lando," you grin, resting your chin on your hand.

Seonghwa just gazed into your eyes with a fond smile. That had been a long, but amazing, process as you got measurements, pinned him still until he was stiff all over, but put hours of work into detailing a masterpiece, complete with a cape of his very own. All the standing around was so worth it to feel the way your hands gently grazed his sides, to hear you laugh at his little comments and even feel it against his neck when you were working on his shoulders, to always make sure you were stopping to take care of yourself, too, and hear how grateful you were when he reminded you you were doing amazing, no need to push yourself. Watching the transformation, your busy hands at work, getting to embody a piece of the universe he loved so much, all of it made for some of the best weeks Seonghwa had had in a long time.

"That was fun," he commented, attaching two more pieces to the wing of the ship he was building.

"Yeah," you agreed, "especially when you almost kissed me."

Seonghwa reddened, stiffening and lowering the wing in his hand slightly.

It had happened one of the last times you'd met up when you were attaching his cape, hands on his shoulders. He'd relaxed too much, falling into watching you work with dazed eyes, dreaming of leaning in, and then you pulled a little too hard, sending him surging forward, his face almost crashing into yours. He'd managed to catch himself just in time and you'd edited that part out of the fitting video of course, but that moment, your awkward but thrilling almost-kiss, had been living rent-free in Seonghwa's mind ever since then. A part of him wished he'd just managed to fall all the way, but that also wasn't how he wanted your first kiss to go. If you liked him back, which Yeosang and Hongjoong insisted you did. Hongjoong had even taken to texting him 'May the flirts be with you' before he went to your studio, which strangely had encouraged him on a couple occasions to just say the compliment or to brush your hands a little when he handed you supplies or made sure you had water.

"I'm so sorry about that, I really was just clumsy and-"

"It's all right," you smirked faintly, putting the constructed cockpit in your hands down, "I was ready for it."

Seonghwa's brows furrowed as he fully set the wing down. "You... you..."

"Wait, I'm sorry, did I read things wrong? I thought we were flirting. But if not, I'm so sorry! I'm not good at this," you confessed, "you know what they say about nerds and all."

Any and all dissatisfaction about Hongjoong being right dissipated into the great sparkly abyss of joy rising and thudding out of Seonghwa's chest because holy cow, the super cool girl who makes Star Wars outfits and builds lego with him and doesn't laugh at his ASMR is interested in them? Sure, let him and Yeosang rub it in Seonghwa's face. He'd endure anything if it meant getting closer to you.

"I didn't want to make you uncomfortable, either," he chuckled, grin widening by the second, "but yes, I was. My roommate even started texting me to hype me up before I visited you, look!"

He showed you the text, which was followed by a gif of Han Solo and a whole bunch of teasing ㅋㅋㅋㅋ.

"I was worried you were going to see all the youtube comments teasing me about my obvious crush on you or how cute we were together!"

His eyes widened again. "So you have an obvious crush on me?"

"Seonghwa," you folded your arms, "you don't exactly want someone to kiss you because they're like a brother to you."

"Right, right, sorry, it's just so hard to believe a real-life space princess like you is interested in a lowly smuggler like myself."

"Ok," you snorted, "that was corny."

"I was trying to be corny."

"Good," you tease, leaning in closer until your nose is almost brushing his, "I like corny."

"That's why you like Attack of the Clones. It's the dialogue."

"It's the childhood appeal and you know it! I always say they got a little confident in their millions with some of the writing, but something in it really captured a youth vibe. It's like what they did in Twilight, but better because of the rest of the worlds happening around it-" You rambled, distracted by Seonghwa's claim.

Seonghwa, meanwhile, could only stare at your animated gesticulating and think how you're most definitely the girl of his dreams. "Ok, seriously, please kiss me."

“Alright, but we’re definitely doing the cape yank next time,” you comment as you lean in, letting Seonghwa take one of your hands, the other pulling you in softly by your cheek until your lips met.

#ateez #ateez imagines #ateez reactions #ateez x reader #ateez scenarios #seonghwa #seonghwa x reader #seonghwa x female reader #female reader #cosplayer reader

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mechanicalriddle · 26 days ago

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My journals are liable to be a little barebones this year since I have been extremely busy for the past 2 months lmao.

To my dear and WONDERFUL Exalted Secret Santa....

Hirudana Siithavari- Current Gunstar Autochthonia PC, Worm of my heart (also brain)

If you're not in the know about the 2e Gunstar Autochthonia shard, everyone lives in Autochthonia and its a lot nicer than regular Autochthonia but also its in space and also the Yozis are chasing you 100% of the time. We've got it sort of star trek vibes but a little grungier and a tad diesel/rustpunk.

Siithi (32 y.o., she/her, 5'6") is a dipshit No Moon necromancer. She's a bit of a golden-hearted asshole, and while quite capable of taking things seriously, she also loves acting like a complete hooligan. Unfortunately lately she hasn't really been acting herself lately on account of she is maybe a little bit stressed out.

Her main character arc so far has been overcoming her own insecurities to come into her own as a powerful Chosen. Now she is finally getting the hang of it, but also currently dealing with like 4 different parties all vying for her allegiance (a number of whom are literally inside her head), trying to unlock the secrets of necromancy while being the Deliberative's first and only practicioner (with no formal training in anything involved), and slowly drifting away from her best friend, the dragon-king Meteor-Dream, who has formed a maligned pact with the Viator of Nullspace and lost most semblances of "humanity" that they had left. So shes basically pretty cranky, and not getting a lot of sleep. She finds working with her hands to be very therapeutic, so she's mostly trying to keep busy to forget about it.

This is working as well as one would expect.

She's blessed with the ugly bastard's confidence, and usually sporting either severe RBF, a wide & wry grin, or something smugly between. Sort of a slouching creeper. She emotes exaggeratedly and has a little bit of natural rubberhose stretchiness, plus a very minimal concept of personal space.

Motifs- The colors of chemicals, grime, and industrial decay (rust-red and algae green, ochre, dusty grays, various shades of black and brown) paired with the bright hues of warning. Rustpunk machinery chic, gears and bits and bobs. Black leather, vinyl, and latex, with silver studs and hardware. Machines that hiss and undulate. Mysterious stains, diaphonized specimens, sludge, slime, small skittering and squirming vermin.

Anima- Siithi's iconic anima is a moonlit mangrove swamp except the water is oil and the trees are made of steel and pulsating tubes and the moon is really really huge and reflective, also she is suspended over the surface of the water by a bunch of tubes connected to her back because thats fun. Her glowing/burning anima is pretty much like the regular Lunar anima except that its kind of gloopy and flows like wax in a lava lamp.

Her spirit shape is the Asian Buffalo Leech (Hirudinaria manillensis). Feel free to draw either her human or hybrid form.

Ideas (I like to put in a list of these in case you wanted to draw a little scene but arent sure what to do; feel free to ignore them completely)-

She's a bit of a gearhead, so you could draw her peeling an engine apart, covered in oil

Or disassembling a rotted corpse on a steel table with a bonesaw, covered in blood

Ruefully drinking coffee out of a go mug, or nursing a glass of dark-colored liquor on the rocks at a sci fi dive bar

Smoking weeeeeed

Notes- She is very much musclefat. Please don't omit details relating to this like her double chin, rolls, etc. She has a couple hairstyles listed in her references (take your pick), and sometimes has sparse facial hair which you can choose to include or not.

Cynis Niraj- Traitorous Twink of the Realm

(most of my art of this guy is either like 5 years out of date and/or trapped on my former PC, so hopefully these give you enough to work off of. he doesn't really have a signature outfit so you can have some fun with it!)

Niraj (21 y.o., he/him, 5'8") is a little water aspected bastard boy I held close to my chest for a very long time; he happens to be probably the most important Ledaal Tedeo backstory character (besties+magic college roommates, also Niraj has been dutifully covering Ted's tracks to try to prevent him from being detected by his Realm detractors).

He is sort of on track to be Cynis's next spymaster because while he may be a sorcerer he has all the sneaky bastard manipulator spells... infallible messenger control, corrupted words, silent dreams etc etc. More damningly he is the present wielder of Calumny (spoilers). A large proportion of his time at the Heptagram was spent cultivating his ability to lie and diplomacy his way out of anything, and the rest was of course spent doing... You know. Sorcery. Has the capacity to self reflect to some degree (e.g. why he didn't spurn his best friend completely right off the bat and has been reassessing his loyalties to the Realm as a result) but he's also a nervous animal who wants nothing more than to seek comfort in the familiar. Probably not the worst guy in the world but he is a rich kid, full stop.

Niraj carries a constant level of tension well beyond his years (it happens when you're lying thru your teeth on the daily to essence 5 shikari on behalf of your pet solar). Lately his anxiety has been much more difficult to hide. His outbursts are snide and a little temperamental but usually all hot air. The poor devil hasn't put on a genuine smile much in the past decade.

Motifs- Eels and various other toothy fish. Thick smoke and clouds of incense. Orchid and lotus flowers, draping vines, tobacco & potpourri, and general floral motifs. Dark-stained wood and leather. The night, and deep water. Dark, rich, luxurious garbs and tapestries; comfort over looks over practicality. The colors of his house, and of affluence.

Anima- Dark underwater cavern with toothy formations; deeper in the cave you can see dark shapes swimming in hypnotic patterns. Also, he has a little red lantern hanging over his head like an anglerfish lure.

Ideas-

Miserable in the bath. SFW only as per the rules of the event. Maybe he's in a nice bubbly bath. Or maybe he's bathing fully clothed.

Or simply laying facedown in an estate fountain. Not really his best angle, though.

Sitting in a dark room, forging a correspondence by candlelight.

Looking contemplative and/or nervous on the prow of a boat.

Also smoking weeeeeed or hookah

Notes-

I would say make sure his skin tone is accurate and also hes got magic top scars (depicted) in case you do choose the bath option or have him with his shirt slightly open all sexy or something. IDK

Keeping most of my other OCs on reserve this year. Have fun with one of these little freaks.

#exalted secret santa #exalted rpg

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valiantstarlights · 2 years ago

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[Dreamling Week Day 6: Sick] In Sickness

It's a fluffy sick fic featuring eldritch goo Dream of the Endless idk what else to tell you

CW: if you're fine with Dream being an eldritch being, then absolutely nothing. 😊 Enjoy! 🖤

Hob stares at the large black puddle of goo that flooded most of the living room. He just got back from work and found Matthew perched on a branch near his flat, looking as frantic as a raven could get.

Said raven is now perched on Hob's shoulder, eyeing the mess on the floor gravely.

Hob had been warned that Dream is 'in a state,' but he didn't exactly expect that 'state' to be liquid.

Because it is Dream on the floor, Hob can see that very clearly. Though the goo simply looks like dark glittery slime poured over the floor to the uninitiated, Hob recognizes a couple of nebulas on its surface. There, by the telly, is the Horsehead Nebula, there by the bookshelf that contained none of Shaxberd's works is the Trifid Nebula, and just by Hob's feet is the Lagoon Nebula.

"Darling?" Hob calls out, unsure if he's going to get an answer. This is his first time encountering Dream like this. "Are you alright?"

No answer.

He looks at Matthew a bit helplessly. "Do I just...scoop him up with my hands?"

Matthew fidgets. "Definitely don't vacuum him."

"Why the hell would I--"

"Well, why are you asking me? I don't know this shit! I was literally a human a year ago!"

Hob pinches his nose. They were like blind drunks stumbling down the street together. "Is he even sentient like this?"

The dark puddle vibrates, and Hob feels Matthew's talons dig into his shoulders from the jumpscare. He himself almost drops his suitcase. "I can hear both of you," the puddle grumbles, "and you are making too much noise for my liking."

"Oh, sorry, love," Hob says, his boyfriend instincts suddenly awakened at Dream's sulky morning voice. "Did we wake you?"

"I want some of your chicken pot pie."

"Chicken pot pie." Hob repeats. His brain is still processing the fact that his boyfriend is a literal puddle of goo on the floor. "Yeah. Okay. Let me just get some ingredients from the shops real quick. Can you get to the bedroom while I'm gone? I don't want to step on you when I return."

He leaves Matthew...not in charge, but overseeing goo Dream's long and arduous trek to the bedroom.

He hears the raven mutter something about this being like hell all over again.

Hob ignores that because he has a different set of problems to tackle.

Hob's panic sets in as soon as he gets out of the car carrying all the ingredients for chicken pot pie, as well as some other food and drinks good for sick humans.

Once the pie is done cooking and cooling down a bit, how will he feed Dream? Where is his mouth? Does Hob just...pour it on the goo and hope for the best?

What if that were the equivalent of dumping hot soup on his boyfriend's lap?

"Any improvement?" he asks Matthew, who has kept an eye on Dream while perched safely on the back of the couch.

Hob checked, and Dream's form is thankfully all contained in the bedroom, still looking like a lake of stars.

"Nope. But he says he wants you to make extra crusts because he likes that. I would also like some extra bits to snack on, if that's alright."

"Sure." Hob goes to do just that. Chicken pot pie for the boyfriend and a lot of extra crusts for the boyfriend and his raven.

No problem. This is all totally normal and fine.

"Dream? Darling? The pot pie is done."

The puddle looks a little smaller in size, and Hob can see a couple of hill-like formations near the middle of the mass. He hopes it's a sign that Dream is slowly getting better.

At his words, one of the islands move closer to him, like a shark. Its progress sends ripples throughout the lake.

"Finally," the island nearer to him says. Its peak splits open to reveal the inside of Dream's human mouth. "Feed me."

At this point, Hob isn't even questioning anything anymore. All he knows is how to be a good boyfriend, so he's gonna do just that.

He sits down at the very edge of the lake near the hill with the mouth, and scoops up a portion of the pie, making sure to blow on it before feeding it to Dream.

The hill hums in appreciation.

"Good?"

"Delicious," Dream's mouth says, before opening once more, like a baby bird waiting to be fed. "More. I want a larger portion of the crust this time."

Hob couldn't help the smile that bloomed on his face and obediently gets more of the crust for the next bite.

"What kind of juice do you like?" Hob asks, a few hours later. The goo now looks less like a puddle and more like gelatine that didn't set properly. It was on the couch, bundled up in one of Hob's soft knitted blankets, watching an earlier season of Game of Thrones with Matthew.

"What kinds do you have?"

"Uh, orange, apple, and pineapple. Oh, and I still got some banana milk from the Korean grocery store, if you prefer that. Or almond milk."

"All of them."

Hob and Matthew share an alarmed look behind gelatine Dream's back. "What, an equal amount of all those drinks together in a single glass?"

"Yes."

Hob looks heavenwards and prays for a little more sanity before complying.

And just for fun, he goes down to the Inn and gets a blue cocktail umbrella and a heart-shaped drinking straw to put in gelatine Dream's very questionable drink.

Gelatine Dream hums in delight and tells Hob he loves him.

Hob beams and kisses the top of the gelatinous mass, while Matthew chokes, very possibly because the scene on TV is Hodor...doing his thing, and that always gets to Hob.

(Matthew chokes because he is disgusted, he is revolted--)

Something thick and long, like an anaconda, slithers into bed with Hob, and it is only through his 600 plus years of living in this world does he calm his frantically beating heart and open his arms so big ass snake Dream can curl up next to him.

"I hate being sick," the snake hisses, its huge dark head tucking itself under Hob's chin. "I can't hug you like this."

'Please don't wrap around me and squeeze me to death,' Hob does not say. "I think you're adorable," he murmurs instead against Dream's coils, and kisses the nearest scaled skin in front of his face.

Dream is mostly back in his human form come morning, but he still dripped viscous dark liquid wherever he goes. It reminds Hob of Howl Pendragon from the Howl's Moving Castle Ghibli movie.

"How are you this morning, darling?"

"Wretched," Dream says as he drips onto his fry up. Hob mentioned preparing porridge for him as they got up earlier, only to be informed by Dream that he fucking hates porridge and would hurl it into the sun if he could. And so Hob cooked some fry up instead. "Must you go to work?"

Hob, already running late and in the process of putting on his shoes, stops and looks back at the pathetic picture Dream makes. He is sadly looking down at his perfectly cooked eggs, dripping dark sludge on the sun-yellow yolks.

"I'll call in sick," Hob decides, and takes his phone out to do just that. The department head is going to verbally flay him alive for only giving notice at the last minute, but nothing is more important to him than Dream. Hell, they could fire him over the phone and he'd be fine with it.

Dream hugs him around the middle as Hob puts his briefcase down, ruining his white dress shirt. Hob hugs him back and kisses the top of his head.

It's fine. He'll just buy another shirt, or get another job. But Dream is irreplaceable.

"Have I told you that you are the best thing that has ever happened to me?" Dream asks him a couple of days later, when they're both lying in bed after two rounds of fantastic sex, celebrating Dream's full recovery.

Hob kisses him on the nose and cuddles him closer. "Maybe once or twice in the last 24 hours," he says. "But it never hurts to tell me again."

Dream shyly hands him an unbreakable ceramic mug made from the sands of the Dreaming. It says, "The best boyfriend across all of time and space," in Dream's handwriting.

It takes Hob a solid month to stop grinning like a fool.

#don't ask me what dream is sick with because i'll probably say something like 'the slutty sickness'#but fr dream is too adorable here asdfghjkl #i was working on writing for the confession prompt but the story wasn't feeling it #so now we have sick eldritch goo dream of the endless and best boyfriend ever hob gadling #(sighs longingly)#manifesting for me to have a boyfriend!hob in my life tbh 🙏#dreamling #DreamlingWeek #DreamlingWeek2023 #the sandman #my writing

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t0ast-ghost · 6 months ago

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Here’s my thoughts on Star Trek V: The Final Frontier

There’s swear words, star trek, and spoilers oh my!

Start it up:

- “The planet of galactic peace.” Somehow. I don’t believe that.

- This guy on his horse looks like death

- “Let us explore it together.” Come take my hand. Let us take ibuprofen together.

- It’s hard to dislike Sybok when he smiles like that so they have to add in a somewhat evil laugh

- Epic music is a go (Music by Jerry Goldsmith)

- “‘You’ll be able to relax’ you call this relaxing? I’m a nervous wreck. If I’m not careful I’ll end up talking to myself.” Kirk convinced him to come here and now he has to watch his idiot husband climb a rock

- Kirk knows Spock and McCoy are there to catch him when he falls but goddamnit if they aren’t both really tired of his shit

- No but seriously what is with science fiction and thinking ‘yeah there’s a race of cat people’ looking at you too doctor who

- Caithlin Dar is awesome already.. I don’t trust Talbot (edit: haha too bad they’re characters don’t really do anything anyway)

- Scotty narrating is my favourite actually

- UHURA IS AWESOME

- are Uhura and Scotty dating?

- “Admit it. We’re lost!” “All right, we’re lost. But we’re making good time.” Didn’t know I needed Sulu and Chekov to go hiking together but I do

- “Yes uh- yes, we’ve been caught in a blizzard.” *Chekov starts blowing into the microphone* god I love them. He just went with it!

- Bones ringing the triangle out of spite and love

- The husbands sitting down and eating beans. Why would they make star trek about literally anything else

- Coming back strong with the extra wh sound (it was in the last movie when McCoy said whales)

- The trivia panel is telling me that one of the goofs is Kirk calling Tennessee whiskey bourbon and it looks like something Spock would write

- McCoy laughing and talking about Spock’s Vulcan metabolism and Spock indulging by saying he’s also half human and McCoy responding with “well it certainly doesn’t show” to which he knows Spock’ll take as a compliment. Yes I do need old married mcspirk.

- “You know, you two could drive a man to drink.” Then Kirk with all the innocence and nonchalance in the world says, “me? What did I do?” “What did you do? You really piss me off, Jim.”

- McCoy is lecturing Kirk cause he can’t take anymore of his almost dying bullshit

- “I knew I wouldn’t die because the two of you were with me.” “I do not understand.” “I’ve always known I’ll die alone.” I’m about to cry because this is true. He dies in a distant future without either of them. Thinking about it they all somewhat die alone. Maybe Spock was there for McCoy but we never see his death. And Spock dies in an alternate past :(((

- “It’s a mystery to me what draws us together…Other people have families.” “Other people, Bones, not us.” They are each other’s family.

- SPOCK ROASTING A MARSHMALLOW (not sure why they call it a ‘marsh melon’)

- This is the silliest thing they could have possibly put in a movie (this is like a comfort fic but a movie and I am so here for it)

- “God, I liked him better before he died.” McCoy is getting nasty and Kirk is now like ‘well time to sleep’

- “Life is not a dream.” “Go to sleep, Spock.”

- Why is the head Klingons outfit so cunty. Why’re the Klingons so silly?

- They caught Spock in his jammies

- “Well gentlemen, it seems shore leave has been cancelled.” They can’t go on ONE DATE

- Why’re they huddled together on the ship like that?

- “‘All I ask is a tall ship and a star to steer her by.��” “Melville.” “John Masefield.” “Are you sure about that?” “I am well versed in the classics, Doctor.” “Then how come you don’t know Row, Row, Row Your Boat?” Spock makes the most frowny and tired face imaginable. I think McCoy was justified in biting back there cause imagine you wake up, get in a shuttle, and then get corrected. All I’m saying is Spock was being a bit of a know it all (wouldn’t have him any other way)

- “*laughs* I don’t think I’ve ever seen him happier.” McCoy is so jolly in this one

- The yeoman with Kirk’s jacket is played by Shatner’s daughter

- HE ACTUALLY HAS A SHIRT THAT SAYS ‘go climb a rock.’ omg

- That fucking outfit oh my goodness

- “What’s the matter, Jim?” “I miss my old chair.” And then it switches to Spock who’s going :[

- Love how the Klingons all know who Kirk is. Like he’s THAT important

- Aww Kirk can’t write his diary :((

- Their silhouettes are so cute (34:06) (also they look like how aliens coming out of a spaceship look, I just think that’s neat)

- McCoy has to turn on the lights like, ‘stop sulking in the damn dark.’

- “Imagine that, a passionate Vulcan.” What McCoy? You want Spock to be more passionate?

- “This is Captain Pavel Chekov speaking.” He’s so silly for that. But also it’s probably best he doesn’t say ‘acting captain’ as that would arouse suspicion cause as everyone knows the captain is always the first to go on dangerous away missions

- What’s going on? Why is Uhura dancing ? What.

- What. Was. That. Scene. Why.

- “Spock.” “Yes, captain?” “Be one with the horse.” “Yes, captain.” Oookay

- “Hold your horse, captain.” Good one.

- Spock just. He just nerve pinched that horse.

- Spock does not know how to deal with seeing his estranged brother again (yeah I was spoiled) so, “you are under arrest for seventeen violations of the neutral zone treaty.” Is what he went with

- Sybok complimented and then winked at Kirk HE IS TAKEN

- “We’re going to forego the tractor beam and fly her in manually.” “Manually?” “How often have you done this?” “Actually it’s my first attempt.” Personally wouldn’t trust anyone else to attempt that other than Sulu. He is THAT bitch (/pos)

- EXPLOSION!!!!! CRASHHHH

- whooo space stuff! Sorry the photon torpedo just missing as the enterprise went into warp was cool

- Spock’s got a gun!

- McCoy comes out of the ship and is so confused and looks to Spock and Kirk

- Ohhh no. Sybok is gonna do his thingy magic thing to Sulu and Uhura with Scotty watching ‘em from above

- “What you have done is betray every man on this ship.” “Worse. I have betrayed you. I do not expect you to forgive me.” “Forgive you? I ought to knock you on your goddamn ass.” “If you think it would help.” “You want me to hold him, Jim?” “You stay out of this. Why, Spock? Why?” Lots to think about in this dialogue. But I think McCoy offering to hold Spock is him going ‘Jim you’re overreacting can’t you see he’s already remorseful?’ I could be misreading but if you understand it as the idea of McCoy holding him down is so redundant because Spock is strong enough to get out of his grasp easily but probably wouldn’t resist in this moment then it’s just like aughhhhhh

- Also Kirk asking Spock to shoot someone is bad enough. But the fact that it was his brother…

- Kirk is in disbelief. He didn’t know his own husband has a brother (half brother technically. Same Spock same.)

- “Stop it, Jim! Spock could no more kill his own brother than he could kill you. If you want to punish him for what he’s done, why don’t you throw him in the brig? Besides, we’ve got bigger problems to deal with.” Bones not only defending Spock, but also getting them back on track

- Apparently both Gene Roddenberry and William Shatner didn’t like that Sybok was Spock’s brother. Roddenberry didn’t think that Sarek would have a child with another woman (I kinda agree but also Pon Farr would’ve made him become engaged to a Vulcan before he met Amanda, so it’s not completely unthinkable). And Shatner didn’t like it cause it was too much like ‘a soap opera plot line’ but they went with it so that Spock’s actions made sense with the way he acted towards Sybok. I personally like that Spock has siblings he never told anyone about. It’s funny.

- lmao this time Kirk gets to stand on top of Spock to reach something (See patterns of force)

- Spock talking about himself in the third person because he doesn’t want to admit that he couldn’t get out of the brig

- “The bond between these three is strong, difficult to penetrate. This will be quite a challenge.” IT’S CAUSE THEY’RE MARRIED

- It’s funny that- canonically - Sybok can sense a really strong bond between them

- Kirk and McCoy’s ass I mean- oh look it’s Spock. With rocket boots!

- Spock holding onto Kirk and McCoy for their dear lives

- “I believe I overshot the mark by one level.” “Nobody’s perfect.” McCoy keeps saying this to Spock and I think it’s healing. Also flirting.

- They’re lit really nicely

- McCoy is NOT having this “Sounds like brainwashing to me.” You’re so right, back OFF Sybok

- (drawable moment 1:08:17)

- “Your pain is the deepest of all. I can feel it. Can’t you?” OH WAIT WE GET TO SEE MCCOYS PAIN WHAT

- I have no words for this scene. Holy Shit.

- Forced therapy

- Oh they all get to see each others pain cause they’re connected

- Spock gets to see his own birth… why. What.

- young Sarek 😧😳😳😳

- “So human.” YOU FUCKED THE HUMAN SAREK. God he’s such a bitch.

- SPOCK FOR THE WIN!! He’s not leaving

- MCCOYS STAYING WITH HIS HUSBANDS!!! YEAH LETS GOOO! (Personally I don’t think McCoy would go with Sybok at all, but I wasn’t sure what the writers were gonna do and I was scared they would make him leave)

- I know we’ve moved on from this but maybe Sarek saying that Spock was human was like saying ‘he’s got your eyes’ like comparing Spock to Amanda in appreciation. We’ll never know but it’s still a bitchass thing to say.

- Kirk has a plaque with ‘To boldly go where no man has gone before’ what a nerd

- They’re really hot in their uniforms

- hi god

- Kirk wants to ID god. Fair enough.

- There’s McCoy in the corner. Losing his religion

- “I doubt a God who inflicts pain for his own pleasure.” YEAH McCoy’s not standing for this shit

- Oh so Sybok wasn’t the enemy. Yeah that’s a good ending for his character. Saying bye to sock and asking for forgiveness

- “Beam up Spock and Dr. McCoy now.” “Now, just a damn minute-” Kirk said that so fast so that his husbands couldn’t argue with him

- “I am a foolish old man.” “Damn you, sir. You will try.” Spock ain’t fucking around. Also he picked up a couple of words from McCoy

- “I thought I was going to die.” “Not possible, you were never alone.” Throw me out an airlock I need some air

- SORRY the immediate moment after that was SO MUCH WORSE “Please, captain. Not in front of the Klingons.” THEY WERE ABOUT TO MAKE OUT SLOPPY

- “Cosmic thoughts, gentlemen?” “We were speculating. Is god really out there?” They were having a nice quiet conversation and it’s a shame they didn’t show it :(

- KIRK TALKING ABOUT SAM??? Oh no he was implying it was Spock

- this ending- I’m not okay.

Unfortunately I really enjoyed this one. William Shatner made a movie that was so shippy and was oblivious to it the entire time.

I know it took a really long time for me to post this one because I wanted to watch undiscovered country first, I haven’t watched it yet but I felt I needed to finally edit and post this one. I hope you enjoyed my silly little thoughts.

Star trekking across the universe. Get that stuck in your head.

Masterpost

#star trek #star trek v: the final frontier #james t kirk #captain james kirk #spock #s'chn t'gai spock #leonard bones mccoy #doctor mccoy #sybok #nyota uhura #hikaru sulu #pavel chekov #montgomery scott

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