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lilacs-stars · 4 months ago

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moon + tides

this is part 1, read part 2 here! pairing: james hook x fem!reader (requested) SUMMARY: you, ariel's daughter, find yourself in a strange relationship with the one and only infamous pirate captain, who's absolutely obsessed with you GENRE: yandere, a bit of angst, some comforting fluff here and there, especially at the end CW: a few mentions of violence, someone walking a plank, mentions of drowning, some suggestive material, nothing too graphic though WC: 4.2k

A/N: this req was really fun to write! I might have gotten a bit carried away, heh...this part includes the backstory of how you two got together and the first part of the req, and the second part will include the rest of it. hope you guys enjoy reading this cause I definitely put some hard work into it lol. also please give me feedback and suggestions, I'd really like to know your thoughts!

If you could go back, would you change what happened?

This is something that you often ask yourself.

You think about that fateful day frequently. It was the summer before your first year at Merlin Academy. You had finally convinced your parents, the famed mermaid Ariel and her Prince Eric, to let you go for a swim unsupervised. Being half-mermaid, half-human allowed you to transform back and forth at will. And although life on land was pretty good, your heart always ached to go back to the sea, to feel the cold, salty water as it engulfs you. To race along the reefs, tail swishing back and forth, allowing you to reach speeds far past what your human form can do. To leisurely swim amongst the many species of fish and plants that created the world of the ocean. To go back home.

Your parents had already gone over the rules with you hundreds of time, to the point where you could recite each one of them word for word: “Don’t go past the boundaries,” “Don’t approach any animals you don’t know,” “Don’t go so deep where you can’t see any light,” “Come out at the first sign of bad weather,” and, most importantly, “Do not, under any circumstances, interact with any humans.”

Your mother may be renowned for rescuing a stranger from the unrelenting grasps of the sea—if she hadn’t, you wouldn’t even be here right now—but that was a very rare case. Far more often than not, mermaid interactions with humans out on the waters ended up in the mermaid being tortured, held hostage, or even killed.

You knew the rules by heart, and yet, maybe it was because of your young age, you still broke them. You weren’t really aware of your actions in the moment; one second, you were swimming alongside a pod of dolphins, racing against the currents. The next, you heard loud voices and realized that almost directly above you, yet still a good few dozen meters away, was some sort of ship.

You had ducked down next to a big sponge, peering up apprehensively. It was at that moment you realized that you were far outside of the boundaries set for you by your parents. You should have turned back, should have swam back home, but there was something about the ship, something that intrigued you so much it forced you to stay in place.

A few moments passed, and seeing as there was no commotion, you let your curiosity get the better of you. After all, that ship shouldn’t even have been out there. Slowly, you crept closer and closer to the surface, making sure to remain in the shadows. The noises were becoming clearer; you could make out people’s voices now. But they still weren’t sharp enough for you to understand what they were saying.

Finally, you took the risk and poked your head out of the water near the rear of the ship. The sight before you elicited a sharp gasp, and made you wish you had just gone back when you still had the chance.

Extended from the side of the ship was a long, wooden plank. Standing on one side of it (the safe end), was a man, gagged, blindfolded, and bound. He looked to be no older than forty, with a scraggly beard and ripped clothes.

A pirate.

Another figure emerged, walking to the edge of the deck. Your reflexes caused you to duck down quickly, so only your eyes were barely above the water. This figure was much younger, with dark brown hair parted neatly and angular features twisted into a wicked smile. He donned a maroon blazer that covered a white shirt with an upturned collar. Something in his left hand shined brilliantly under the sun’s bright rays.

The younger figure laughed, but not in the way one would laugh at a funny joke. He unsheathed a cutlass from his side, using it to poke the back of the man on the plank.

“You see, Mr. Jones? This is what happens when you cross the most feared pirate captain in all the lands!” the young figure roared as he yanked off the older man’s blindfold, revealing to him his fate. The fear and panic that spread across the man’s face has been forever etched into your mind, even to this day.

You heard the man beg and plea for mercy, watched as every move he made caused the plank to sway even more violently. The pirate captain simply laughed, his crew along with him. Finally, when you suppose he tired of hearing the man grovel, you watched in terror as the captain gave the man a good kick in the back, finally sending him over the edge.

Suddenly, it was like the world was spinning in slow motion. The man plummeting off the wooden platform, falling, falling, falling. His screams muffled by the cloth around his mouth. Then, all too soon, he made contact with the water with a loud splash.

He sank quickly, devoured by the ocean’s waters within the blink of an eye. Your young, distraught face watched as a few bubbles rose to the surface. Then nothing. All that remained of the man’s existence, all there was to give proof that he had ever even been there, were a few ripples in the water.

That was it.

You were frozen in shock. How–what–why? Your brain could barely string together a comprehensive sentence. All you were sure of was the feeling inside you. You couldn’t quite put it into words, could barely even understand it. But it made your tail ache to move, made you feel as if you simply couldn’t stay in one place any longer.

You dove beneath the surface, frantically swimming towards the direction where you saw the man go under. You kept looking around, searching, but to no avail. You decided to dive deeper, swimming lower and lower until the water around you was near pitch-black. You were growing more and more panicked by the second, because every second you wasted was another second the man grew closer to death.

Finally, you caught a glimpse of movement out of the corner of your eye. Hope flaring, you darted towards it, the figure becoming clearer the closer you got.

It was him.

You reached out and grabbed him by the collar of his shirt to prevent him from sinking farther. His eyes were shut and he wasn’t breathing, but you could still hear a heartbeat. There was still time left.

Wrapping your arms around him, you started the difficult journey back to land. Thankfully, you knew of a small island not too far from here. Swimming with the added weight of a fully grown man was incredibly difficult, especially for a young mermaid, but you persisted. After all, this was his life on the line.

You swam as hard as fast as you could, and thankfully, by some blessing from the heavens, found a warm water current going the direction you were. You let it carry you, the rushing stream multiplying your efforts. Finally, after what seemed like hours but must have only been a couple of minutes, you reached the island.

Letting the wave wash you up on shore, you settled the man down on the soft sand the first chance you got. You rolled him to his front, which was quite the endeavor itself. His heartbeat had grown more shallow, but it was still there. There was still hope.

Using the skills your mother had taught you, you started to nurse the man back to health using your melodic voice. Ever since you were young, she had explained to you the gift bestowed upon mermaids, the power of healing through song. She taught you to sing before you could walk, and it was the one thing that you were sure you could do right.

As you sang your strange and melodious tune, it finally occurred to you that you were breaking the most sacred of rules. Not only were you interacting with a stranger, you were coaxing him back to life. Like mother, like daughter, you thought. I suppose healing strangers who were drowning at sea runs in my blood.

The only caveat to your healing powers is that it takes quite some time to have its full effects. You don’t know how long you sat on the beach, but it had been quite some time. You probably would have been there for much longer had it not been for the boom voice that sounded behind you, waking you from your trance of song.

“Well, I’ll be. If it isn’t a mermaid.”

You practically jumped out of your fins as you turned around, startled beyond words. There, towering above you, was the evil pirate captain you saw earlier. He was even younger than you had previously thought. In fact, he couldn’t be much older than you. You wondered for a fleeting moment how a kid like that could command an entire ship full of grown—and scary-looking—men, but decided you have bigger matters at hand to worry about.

A few members of his crew lurked behind the captain, and you could see a small lifeboat docked to the ground near the coastline. Further beyond that, his ship swayed in the ocean waves, dark against the bright horizon.

You followed the pirate’s gaze down to your tail, which was still out. You silently cursed yourself for forgetting to transform back into your human form, being too distracted by saving the man to pay attention to your own safety.

You wanted to yell at the cruel pirate for trying to kill this man. No matter who he was, what he had done, he didn’t deserve to die. At least not like that. But the words got caught in your throat, so while a war raged inside your mind, you were completely quiet on the outside, simply staring up at the man with wide doe eyes.

“You have a lovely voice,” the man said, with a tone that you wouldn’t quite imagine a killer using. He must have overheard me sing earlier, you thought to yourself. “Tell me, little mermaid, who taught you to sing?”

“M-my mother,” you replied weakly, your voice far more meager and small than you wanted it to be. You were still staring up at him, afraid of what he’d do to you.

“Your mother? Well, that’s quite interesting.” The captain raised his left hand to scratch at his chin, which is when you realized that it wasn’t a hand at all. Instead of a hand was a curved metal hook, with a sharp point gleaming at the end. So that must be the shiny thing I saw earlier, you thought.

“Oh, where are my manners?” laughed the pirate abruptly. “My name is Captain James Hook, leader of the Jolly Roger. And you are?”

You blinked, almost forgetting your own name. If it were a less tense moment than this, you would have laughed at the fact that his name is rather befitting for him. “Y/N,” you respond.

“Y/N…Now, where have I heard that name before?” He tapped his chin with his hook again.

“Sir, that’s the name of Princess Ariel’s daughter,” one of the big, meaty pirates behind him answered in a gruff voice.

“That’s right!” Hook exclaimed. “You’re the mermaid’s daughter. You know, rumor has it you’ll be joining me at Merlin’s Academy in the fall, is that right?”

For some reason, your voice seemed to not work anymore, so you settled for nodding. Join him? you pondered. You didn’t know that he was also a student at the school you were planning to attend.

Hook started pacing along the beach, arms crossed with his hooked hand extended, deep in thought. You watched him, fear growing by the second. A sly smirk spread across his face, which only served to fuel the flames of your worry.

“You know, you directly defied my command by saving that man,” he started. Slowly. Deliberately. Choosing every word precisely and carefully, like a shark circling its prey. “Do you even know why I made him walk the plank?” You shook your head no, the panic in you reaching record heights.

“That man”—he vaguely gestures towards the unconscious body laying on the beach with his hook—“stole an entire week’s worth of rations from my ship. An entire week’s worth of food and rum for an entire crew. Had he gotten away with it, we likely would have starved to death out at sea. Does he seem so innocent now, little mermaid? So worth saving?”

Again, you shook your head no. Although you agreed he definitely wasn’t an innocent man, you still didn’t see making him walk the plank a justifiable punishment. Despite your thoughts, you kept your mouth shut. Angering the captain further was not going to do you any good.

“Now, if anyone else had done something like this, I wouldn’t hesitate to cut their head right off,” Hook said menacingly, and with a swish, unsheathed his sword once again. You flinched—hard—and scrambled to back away from him.

Hook took note of this, and, sheathing his sword, crouched down to get on the same level as you. “But don’t worry, little mermaid. I won’t hurt you. You see, you’ve piqued my interest. Plus, it would do me no favors to have a little girl’s blood on my hands.”

You let out a breath you hadn’t even realized you were holding. So he’s not going to kill me, right?

“But, alas, you can’t leave unpunished, now, can you?” he added. Your eyes grew impossibly wider, your entire body shaking in fear. This was it. He was going to kill you, or do something equally worse.

“I demand”—you already felt a tear slip down your cheek—“that you write to me for the remainder of the summer.”

Wait, what?

“W-write?” you asked in disbelief. “As in…”

“Letters,” Hook finished for you. “Write me letters. I’ll give you the mailing address of the Jolly Roger. Write me everyday, and I’ll promise I’ll write you back whenever we dock. How does that sound?”

“O-okay,” you reply, still taken aback by the peculiar, and far more lenient than you’d expected, request. That was all you had to do? Write letters? As punishment for saving the life of someone he’d ordered to die? You must be dreaming.

“Oh, and,” Hook said, voice lowered as he leaned in close to you, until he was just a hair’s breadth away from your ear. You could feel his warm breath on your skin, his alluring scent of salty winds and something richer, deeper, filling your lungs. “I look forward to seeing you in the fall. Don’t forget me, my little mermaid.”

With that, he stood up, smoothing out the lines on his pants. “You wouldn’t happen to need a ride back home, would you, love?”

You shook your head no, too terrified of him changing his mind to spend another moment in his presence. You glanced back at the man lying behind you, still unconscious. “W-what about him? What will you do with him?” you managed to choke out, somehow finding your voice again.

Hook pondered this for a long minute, before finally answering, “He can live.” You let out a shaky breath. “But only because of you, little mermaid. And only this time. You go against my wishes again, and trust me, your punishment will be far more severe.”

And with that, he went back to his ship and sailed away.

You still muse about that day, thinking how different things would have been if you had changed just one little thing.

You kept your promise of writing him letters, too afraid to know what would happen when you had to inevitably face him in the fall to break it. At first, they started out simple. Ordinary recounts of your day, your favorite things, what you liked to do. As the weeks passed, you started writing more personal letters. How you felt about certain things or certain people, including your parents. You never spoke a word of that fateful day to them, knowing that you’d be grounded for life and forbidden from swimming ever again if they caught even a whiff of the danger you had put yourself in.

Hook kept his promise, too. He wrote you back, although it was far less frequent than your letters. Even though he kept his responses short and concise, you always ended up hearing his voice in your head as you read his notes. You soon found yourself checking your mailbox daily, even getting to know the mailman rather well. The rush of dopamine you got every time you opened it to find a letter awaiting you was unmatched; you would always run upstairs to your room, lock the door, and pour over the note. Reading every line, every word over and over again, committing them to memory.

You don’t know why you enjoyed these little letters so much. Maybe it was the thrill of having a secret that no one else knew of, or the absence of your usual loneliness every time you were reminded that somewhere out there, across the seas, was someone awaiting your letters, reading them, and writing back to you. Whatever it was, your heart started to form an emotional attachment to him without you even realizing it.

Unbeknownst to you, that had been his exact plan all along.

It’s safe to say that once you started school at Merlin Academy, Hook’s—or James’s, as he insisted on you calling him—grip on you only grew. Things started out pretty normal: light conversations in class and stolen looks exchanged across the hall, mostly initiated by him. After the first few weeks passed, things between you two only grew. Secret meetings during lunch hours, rendezvous after school, and small gifts exchanged between the two of you. From there, it became brushing your hands together whenever you passed by each other, soft pecks on the cheek or forehead where there were prying eyes, and more passionate kisses when the two of you finally found time to be alone.

Truth be told, you don’t really know what you two are now. Normally, you would consider two people that partake in such actions to be courting, and you kind of assume you are. But James has never said anything about a relationship to you, and in all honesty, you’re too afraid to ask him. You feel terribly confused at his intentions towards you; on the one hand, he approaches you every day without fail, even if you try to ignore him or when your schedules don’t match up. Somehow, he always finds a way. On the other hand, he never asked you to be his lover, never even vaguely mentioned anything of the sorts. So, you decided, with a heavy heart, to not be too confident and consider yourself his partner. And unfortunately, that meant that he wasn’t yours, either.

Really, you never meant to grow so involved with the bastard pirate that threatened to kill you on the beach that day. But for some strange reason, instead of treating you coldly like he did everyone else, especially the other hero kids, he was softer with you. Considerate, even. You had half-expected him to want nothing to do with you after your first few interactions, but he kept seeking you out. You often opened your locker to a note inside, or entered your dorm to find a letter slipped beneath the door.

Today was one of those days. You had gotten a note telling you to wait for him in your usual place in the evening, after classes. So here you are, waiting, staring at the water fountain in the courtyard. You’ve always been transfixed by the way the water spurts out the center and splashes all around. It seems that whenever you’re alone with your thoughts, they always end up back to that fateful day you met James, and everything that’s happened since.

“Wait for me long, my little mermaid?” a deep voice whispers in your ear from behind. You jump only a little, far more used to James sneaking up on you now than you used to be. For some reason, it seems he loves to startle you by wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you in close from behind, or speaking softly in your ear.

You twirl around, a delighted expression on your face, although you try to mask it with a feigned annoyance. “And if I say I did?”

“Well then, I’d have to find a way to make it up to you then, wouldn’t I, darling?” he purrs, using his hook to spin you around in his arms so you’re face-to-face. His lips make his way to yours, pulling you in for a slow, sensual kiss. You wrap your arms around his neck, bringing his head closer to yours, not able to get enough of his touch.

The feeling of his skin against yours ignites something in you, and you find your mouth opening to give him more access as a soft whimper escapes your lips. One hand reaches into his hair, tugging at it gently from the base of his head, while the other one trails down the front of his shirt.

James leans into you even further, your bodies flush against each other now, as he deepens the kiss. You find yourself leaning against the edge of the water fountain, the cool sprinkles providing a welcomed contrast to your heating-up bodies.

Once you’ve completely lost your breath, you pull away just slightly, a love-drunk smile on your face. “You had a request for me?” you whisper, panting, eyes full of adoration for the man you were interlocked with.

James breaks into a grin. A genuine one, not one of the smirks he flashes to uphold his patented suave demeanor. “Ah, yes, how could I forget, my love?”

He pulls further away to give you two enough room to breathe, yet keeping his good hand on the small of your back. “I was reminded today that it's been quite some time since I’ve heard your voice, my little mermaid.”

You give a little smile, deciding to mess with him a bit. “Whatever do you mean? You hear my voice every day. I mean, you’re even hearing it right now.”

James cocks his head to the side and raises a single eyebrow, clearly aware of your antics. “Your other voice, love.”

You giggle. “Fine, all right. Only for you,” you say, giving him a peck on the nose.

You sit down on the ledge of the fountain, turning back to stare at the water again. Although it has been a long time since you stretched your tail and went for a swim, simply seeing the rushing water soothes you. It isn’t quite like being immersed in it, but it still gives you some semblance of comfort.

You reach into the pool at the bottom, letting the cool water rush along your fingertips as you inhale a deep breath. Through your mermaid abilities, your voice twists into an otherworldly song, filling the space with a mellifluous sound.

James takes a place on the ledge next to you, reaching into the water to hold your submerged hand. You don’t really feel it, too transfixed on the rushing waves. You don’t see the way James gazes at you, like you’re his entire world. The softness, the tenderness in his eyes, which he reserves for you only. He looks at you not as if you’re his sun, something too bright to ever stare directly at, something violent and explosive and harmful, but as if you’re his moon.

As if you’re the figure he watches every night before he closes his eyes, and the one he wishes to see again when he wakes up. As if you’re the only thing he notices every time the darkness envelops him, your presence never falling off the pedestal he places it on in his mind. Never losing its worth. He looks at you, your soft glow and mesmerizing shimmer, as if you’re the only thing filling up the night sky. The stars and constellations pale in comparison to you, especially on your best nights, when you shine so magnificently.

You are the moon, and he is the tide of the ocean, constantly being pulled in by you. Never being able to escape the grasp you have on him, the grasp you are so blissfully unaware of. He stares at you in awe and wonder, bathing in your gorgeous light, so close yet always so far away. Sitting all alone against the dark backdrop of the evening sky, waiting for him to come back to you. And without reason, you always disappear. Always leaving him wanting more, waiting till the moment he can bathe in your presence again.

As you sing, the tide gets pulled in by the gravity of the moon. Your lyrical voice bounces off the stone walls, surrounding you both, just as the moonlight surrounds the waves on that mystical night.

But the moonlight is only a reflection of the sun’s glow, is it not? When daylight comes, the moon will pull away from the waves, its absence in the sky all but forgotten in the sun’s presence. And as dawn breaks, so too will the pull between the moon and ocean.

on to part 2! ->

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dreamauri · 6 months ago

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♪ — 𝟱 𝗦𝗘𝗡𝗦𝗘𝗦, 𝐒𝐕𝟓 rbr! sebastian vettel x fem! reader (fluff) “. . . using his five senses, these are his favourite things about you.”

( fic master list | general master list ) ( requests | taglist )

Sight

Sebastian is convinced you're beautiful and he's lucky to have you.

Your smile and eyes are priceless compared to all the art works in the world combined. And therefor, it's only fitting for you to wear the most exquisite of brands and jewels.

he loves seeing you in things he buys. clothes, dresses, sunglasses heels

it makes him feel satisfied that he could make you shine despite you already being brighter than the sun and prettier than Saturn and the moon.

Sebastian loves to spoil you just as much as he loves admiring you

So when you wear a dress he buys you, he can't help ut forget the world around him and admire the Greek goddess he's been blessed with

"That's a pretty anklet." Sebastian hummed as he sat on the couch beside you, nuzzling his nose in the back of your neck as he gently brushed your hair into a ponytail because it was flying everywhere from the windy beach. You giggled feeling ticklish as his fingers traced down your legs to the jewellery he had bought you a few days ago.

"My boyfriend got me it. This bikini too." You giggle as you share a soft peck before standing up and down a little twirl. Sebastian couldn't supress his smile as he held you waist and puled you closer, kissing the belly button piercing.

Touch

it gives sebastian peace of mind knowing that he's your safe spot

being the person who can keep you safe eases his mind.

he loves it when you hug him or hold his hand. that you come to him for solace.

he'll hold you close when you crawl into his chest and will cuddle you after a long day of work.

Sebastian loves to run hands through your hair and leave small soft kisses all over your head and hands, rubbing your back as he holds you close in his embrace

"Well hello." Sebastian smiled, lifting his arm to see you from where you were hugging him from behind. You wrapped your arm around his waist with a smile, getting on your tippy toes for a kiss the German didn't hesitate to give.

"Are you going to be stuck to me the while night, Meine Liebe?" [my love] He asks feeling you nuzzle your nose in his back. "Do you not want me to?" You ask and Sebastian shakes his head, gently holding one of your hands and stroking your fingers as you melted into his figure.

Smell

Your perfume always lingers on Sebastian since you cling to him so much, a comforting reminder of your presence and affection.

It's a subtle mix of sugar and blueberries, a scent that clings to his clothes and bedsheets, making him feel close to you even when you're not around or he's away.

Every time he catches catch a whiff of it, he's reminded of your comforting aura and hugs and the way you whisper sweet nothings in his ear as you play with his hair when it's your turn to big spoon.

This scent becomes a part of his everyday life, making mundane moments feel special. Especially if other drivers or co-workers smell feminine perfume on him and ask. he goes on a whole rant about you.

Sitting at your vanity, you smile as you spritz a bit of perfume on your wrist. He walks by, catching the scent, and grins like an exited puppy. "Can I have some?" he asks as if he's not going to tangle his body with yours in a few minutes. "Seb." You laugh as he couches down so you can put some on his neck. Instead, he got a kiss to his cheek, which made him feel all fluffy, leaning his head on your shoulder as if he was melting into you.

Hearing

Sebastian's curses in German are a familiar sound in your home. He loves cursing, so doing it in German has become the norm. it's gonna be sooner or later that you catch on and join in too.

Swearing is way of expressing frustration, but it often makes him laugh because he never expects it from you and that he actually loves that you're speaking german (even if it's bad words.

"Scheiße." [fuck] Seb found himself smiling, looking at you as you struggled with the pickle jar. "What was that, mein liebe?" he giggled, leaning his forearm on the kitchen island. "Was zum Teufel ist los mit dir? Why won't you just open?" [what the fuck is wrong with you] You huffed shoving the glass in Sebastian's chest chest. "Here since it's so funny, you take it."

Seb could'n't hold his laughs in as he unscrewed the lid of the jar easily. Loud curse words ensued as you watched him do what you've been struggling with "Fuck you." you smacked his chest, taking the pickle jar and plucking one of the pickled cucumbers before screwing the lid back on.

"No no noo." Seb whined , hugging you from behind with a pout. "Go back to the German. Please?" The blond stuck out his bottom lip in plead with his blue puppy eyes. "Nein." [no] you huffed angrily munching on your veggie.

Taste

Every kiss Sebastian shares with you is a sensory haven, but nothing beats the taste of champagne on your lips after a celebration

When you get a taste of the podium champagne bottle, Sebastian makes sure to pull you closer to taste the alcohol once more, only it's from your tongue this time

The flavour mingles with his senses, creating a delicious blend of saliva and expensive bubbles that's intoxicating

He can always tell when you've had a glass, the taste lingering long after the kiss ends sends his heart in whirlwind and tongue yearning for more

These moments remind you of victories celebrated and moments cherished together

After a long-awaited victory, Sebastian pulled you into a kiss, the taste of champagne lingering on his lips. "You taste like celebration," He whispered, smiling against your ips. "That's because every moment with you is worth celebrating," You hum, kissing him again, the taste of champagne and love blending perfectly.

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lavender-lemon-ade · 6 months ago

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I made three "blind date with a book" books for my cousin who's starting to get into reading young adult fiction! Titles of the books in the tags.

#book #books #crafts #book lover #aesthetic #craft #craftblr #book blog #young adult #fantasy #romance #bookblr #booklr #blind date with a book #the lunar chronicles #the falconer #Red queen

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got-to-go-my-own-way · 1 year ago

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nenehyuuchiha · 1 day ago

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View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Hehether (@hehe_ther)

instagram

#stephcass #timkon #i completely forgot that shit with kon and cass and the comments of the video unburied a memory i had burned #stephanie brown #Cassandra Cain #black bat #spoiler DC #Batgirl #tim drake #conner kent #red robin #Superboy #batman #young justice #DC #DC hates lovers ✊😔#Instagram #the video it's not mine I'm just sharing btw

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pickafandomanyfandom · 1 year ago

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Can I just get some appreciation for my hyperfixation shoes?!?! Bc I’m obsessed with them

(ignore how dirty they are I need to wash them )

Can anybody give me idea for how to add smth “solitaire” to them or like what quote from the book I should use? 😭

#shoes #converse #drawing #universe city #young royals #all the people are fake they’re made out of metal but I like you and that- it’s not fake #heartstopper #red white and royal blue #alice oseman #rwrb movie #rwrb #heartstopper comic #heartstopper leaves #paint drips #taylor swift #lover era #reputation

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hauntedrose555 · 4 months ago

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young Taylor Swift style

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lovereist · 2 years ago

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— 𖦹 ▸ ♡̶͟ ͟ ۫ love me ਓ

#ꗃ lover 𖥻 tbz ! ੭ #juyeon #tbz #the boyz #lee juyeon #sangyeon jacob kevin sunwoo new chanhee q changmin younghoon hyunjae juhaknyeon haknyeon eric son young jae hwall #icons headers packs layouts carrd #resources pngs bios locs users #blue beige white and black orange gray brown mint green pastel dark light baby #beige pink red orange yellow blue purple peach brown gray red white black green navy mint baby lavender golden silver #green red white black blue orange beige yellow pink neon gray dark vivid mint pastel baby #messy moodboard #kpop moodboard #y2k moodboard #indie moodboard #grunge moodboard #fresh moodboard #summer moodboard #clean moodboard #simple moodboard #warm moodboard #cute moodboard #soft moodboard #cottagecore #cottage academia #food moodboard #fashion moodboard #juyeon moodboard #tbz moodboard #the boyz moodboard

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pagegirlintraining · 4 months ago

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“What my colleague means to say is that we have a strict “new and unused” policy. So while you do have 365 days to return almost all of our items, we ask that they be in new and unused condition.” Simon gives the customer a well-practiced smile and yeah, there it is again. The reason Wille is sacrificing his Saturday to argue with absolute maniacs about broken furniture. Because even when it’s fake and devoid of a good portion of its usual warmth, Simon’s smile is still the most beautiful thing he’s ever laid eyes on.

aka Wille goes customer service for this very liberal interpretation of the 'Red Light' prompt for day 21 of @youngroyals-events Simon's Month 2024.

Giant thanks goes, as always, to Simon @skibasyndrome who keeps making these more fun for me <3<3<3

Hope you enjoy 🥰

#simonmonth2024 #red light #yr fanfic #wilmon #friends to lovers #au #young royals #young royals fanfic #wille x simon #simon x wille

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abandonedthoughtss · 1 year ago

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Decided to challenge myself by watching some of the best series in a span of two days to distract myself from the never ending wait for the rwrb movie.

Started with Young Royals and drowned in pain for the first day and then metaphorically died when I watched Heartstopper on the second day because they were CUTE AF.

So basically, while waiting for a gay blond prince and a bisexual curly hair FSOTUS.

I adopted the hyperventilating prince of Sweden and a singing gay prodigy (young royals)

AND

Rugby golden retriever and a cool nerd gay.

THE BEST THING TO HAPPEN TO ME OMG-

#bookboyfriend #enemies to lovers #alex claremont diaz #prince henry rwrb #red white and blue #red white and royal blue #rwrb film #rwrb movie #rwrb book #young royals #heartstopper #nick and charlie #nick nelson #charlie spring #prince wilhelm #wilhelm x simon

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redflagshipwriter · 9 months ago

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Young Lovers shot by Cupid ch 3

(Damian/Danny dpxdc fic, Damian and Stephanie buddy cop fic)

Masterpost

Brown was a somewhat agreeable partner to travel with when she was not aiming to irritate him. She made no side trips, unexpected stops, and she certainly did not feel the need to show off world-class acrobatics when they were aiming for speed.

Begrudgingly, Damian admitted to himself that she was not entirely terrible. The revelation that she felt some competitive spirit in regards to Drake was good information. That could improve their working relationship considerably. Perhaps he would allow her more grace.

They arrived at the mall in short order.

They looked up the blueprint from outside and quietly conferred on a plan. The large building was closed, dark, and quiet. There was a single security office, and it seemed that the mall did not employ anyone overnight. Damian pried open a vent on the roof and slipped inside silently. Brown was at his heels a moment later. She hit the ground with a soft tap of her boots.

Imperfect, but excusable, Damian generously allowed.

The office itself was a damp little nest of filing cabinets with a lingering and unpleasant aroma of popcorn butter and coffee. Damian wrinkled his nose through the task of sorting their security tapes.

The food court tapes from yesterday had already been removed, labeled, and put away.

Unfortunately, they were literal tapes. Damian huffed in disbelief at the bulky VHS units.

“Holy moly,” Brown muttered. “I thought the old man was the only person who still used these.”

Indeed.

Damian suppressed a sigh. “I think it unwise to linger here and watch all the footage,” he said, but he hesitated to take them. It would have been much better if they could simply make a copy. But these? Impossible. Wasn’t it?

…Batman would know. Damian crossed his arms unhappily. The oldest members of the family would hold this knowledge. “You are too young to know these devices?” he confirmed.

Brown huffed a little laugh. “Yeah, but how hard can it be?” She tapped at the likeliest tape with a gloved finger. “There has to be a way to make copies. We can look it up. But we could just watch here. You know what time the incident was, don’t you?”

“Yes,” Damian admitted begrudgingly. “But it would be optimal to watch the entire day’s footage to ensure that nothing else happened.”

Brown blew out air between her lips. “Alrighty then.” She dug out her nightphone and apparently started searching for tutorials.

Between the two of them, they managed it. They slipped away with two recorded tapes. They made a detour to deposit them in Spoiler’s bike storage before returning to their patrol. In between normal activities, they quietly debate their next challenge: watching the tapes. Obviously, Batman was the only person in the world paranoid enough to retain such ancient technology. They needed to use his equipment. But how to do it without being seen? It was kept in the entertainment room closest to Father’s bedroom, so that he could watch his childhood favorites if the nostalgic urge struck. He occasionally did so as background noise for filling out paperwork.

“The easiest time would be when he’s at work,” Brown recapped thoughtfully. “But there isn’t much of a window between when we get free from school and when he could come home from work. It would take weeks to watch it all that way even once, and by then Valentine’s Day would have passed.”

Damian made a tsk of disgust. It was true. Unfortunately, the fastest way to draw attention to their operation would be to forgo school. That would invite scrutiny from Pennyworth.

“Oh look, a carjacking.” Brown threw herself off the building and screeched like a bat as she fell. The sound rang out and echoed across the cold, dark streets.

It was a bloodcurdling sound. The guilty man looked up with amusingly wide eyes and a pale face. Damian suppressed an amused snort and came down in silence at a different angle.

After they had apprehended the fool and left him with a stern warning to follow the law or else face the pain of losing a hand, the two returned to the skies.

“That was pretty metal,” Brown said, in a tone of ardent admiration.

Damian cast a look back at the building they had been passing. He hadn't noticed anything in particular. To what was she referring? The window grates? Something inside the windows? He chose not to respond other than with a grunt.

Brown laughed again.

He ignored her harder and channeled his tenseness into an unnecessary flip before landing. He stood and put his hands on his hips as he surveyed the city. “Your Mother is frequently at work while you are imprisoned in school.”

“...Yes.” Brown cocked her head to the side.

He nodded briskly. “You will give me a disease,” Damian instructed. “Of course you may not malaise without supervision. You must come to the manor.”

“Oh, fake a sick day or two,” Brown breathed. She clasped her hands together. “You're becoming such a real boy, d’you know that?”

“Tt.” Damian turned away with disgust so that he did not have to see Spoiler bouncing on her heels.

“Alright, symptoms. Can't argue with diarrhea!”

He cringed hard.

“There's a good reason for no one else to see it,” Spoiler justified. “We can't fake a fever. We could maybe manage clamminess, red eyes, etc.” She paused. “But honestly, the two of us being sick at the same time would go a long way to convince, since we have a history of antagonism.” He could see her make a face under her mask. “Tonight could work against us for that.”

Damian nodded. “We will have to invent a conflict,” he said. He immediately started picking through their patrol for a premise.

She blew a raspberry. “Nah, adding details gives them something to unpick,” she said.

He was struck by the unwelcome realization that she was not wholly unintelligent. His mouth felt glued shut.

“I'll just go back in a bad mood, make a couple faces and sigh loudly once,” Spoiler said airily. “You put on your little thundercloud face and storm away, give crisp answers to anyone who asks if there's something wrong.”

“...And in the morning, I will sleep in,” Damian said. “Past my alarm. Pennyworth will note it as a matter of concern. I will get ready for school.”

“I'll call and ask if I can malaise at the Manor, since my mom is at work and she's worried,” Brown continued easily. “Alfred will put two and two together and tell you to stay home.”

Damian hesitated. “I think that if you had given me some low-class disease,” he started.

She cut him off with a lifted hand. “You get that illness isn't a class related thing, right?” She huffed. “Maybe you got me sick with your elementary school germs. Little kids are disgusting.”

…His peers were upsettingly unhygienic. He gritted his jaw.

Still, he had his self respect to maintain.

“I would never pass a contagious disease,” Damian vowed. He had too much self discipline for that. “The origin must be you.”

She hummed.

“Robin and Spoiler, you two are closest to Red Hood. Care to lend a hand?”

The two straightened into professional posture that Damian didn't remember leaving. “What's the situation?” Brown asked.

“He shook a bush and a lot of creepy crawlies flew out,” Oracle drawled. “Danger is minimal, but containment is impossible with one. Dropping coordinates.”

The next hour was spent dragging dregs of a gang from Bloodhaven out of dumpsters and other such crannies in order to escort them to city limits. They were aurally assaulted by Todd’s idea of a motivational speech and his puerile territorialism. “Stay out or I'll cut your hands off and sew them onto your ankles, blah blah.”

Damian tuned it out. Mother had truly wasted her time on him. He was so dramatic.

The rest of the night went as planned. He and Brown returned to the cave in a pointed silence, wrote professional reports, and stalked to their respective showers without exchanging a word.

He went to his room and picked up his alarm clock. Perhaps he ought to adjust the time?

‘No. If Pennyworth is passing and does not hear it at the usual time, he will note the irregularity.’

Damian willed himself to sleep. When the alarm did go off, it took his finely honed discipline to turn the machine off and then lie back down in bed. It was… uncomfortable. he laid there stiffly, looking at the ceiling.

He forced his eyes to shut. He matched his breathing to a pattern for sleep. And he waited to see how long it would take for someone to notice that he had slept in.

His punishment for childhood began at 8 am and released the prisoners at 3 pm. Therefore, he habitually awoke at 6:30 am. After an agonizing wait Damian peeled open an eye to see that the time was 7:12.

…It was past the time that he would normally have arrived at the breakfast table. He weighed if he wished to hurry downstairs or let Pennyworth come to check on him.

Something felt like a rock in his stomach. Damian sat up and put a hand to it, frowning at the sensation. What was this? When he had thought about his actions causing Pennyworth to abandon his post and trek up a flight of stairs the odd feeling had emerged.

There was a knock on his door. Damian's head shot up as it opened. Pennyworth peered in and his eyebrows went up slightly at the sight of Damian still abed. “Good morning, Master Damian,” he greeted.

“I apologize.” Damian took the hand off of his stomach and all but leapt to his feet. “I have- overslept. I will be but a moment.” He paused, genuinely flustered. “Good morning, Pennyworth.”

“Your breakfast is ready,” Pennyworth said mildly. “Excuse me.” He closed the door.

Damian raced through the bare minimum of his routine and pulled on a school uniform. He made it to the kitchen at 7:20. He faintly heard a phone ring in the other room. His heart gave just one undisciplined leap. Was it Brown, telling their story?

Drake was slouched halfway over the table, cradling a hard-boiled egg in his hands. An otherwise empty plate had been pushed into the center of the table. He had kicked his chair out quite far and was leaning directly forward, his entire upper body on the wood. He contemplated the depths of the egg with a wrinkled brow and eyes halfway hidden under bangs.

Damian edged around Drake to his seat, careful to avoid physical contact.

“You're late,” Drake said to the egg.

Perhaps it was his egg, Damian thought snidely. He was an oversized duck, was he not? Perhaps he had laid that egg and that was why it was so fascinating to him.

“Oy,” Drake drawled. He sniffled as he turned to look at Damian. “What's wrong with you? Forget a project?”

“Do not be foolish,” Damian forbade. He picked up his silverware and set it on his breakfast.

Drake regarded him for a long time. “Are you sick?”

…Why did he think so?

“No, I am not,” Damian snapped back, before he could think better of it. Perhaps he ought to have let Drake establish his alibi.

“I don't know, you look kinda off,” Drake said. He let the hand cradling his egg hit the table and he squinted.

“Master Timothy,” Pennyworth said.

Damian did not jump.

“Ms. Brown has just called to say that she's quite under the weather. I will be retrieving her shortly. How is your condition?”

Drake sat up. “I'm fine, Alfred,” he said formally. Then he blinked. “I think Damian is sick.”

He bristled. “You will bite your tongue,” Damian snapped back. “I am- I am no such thing.”

He could see the moment they both decided that he was, in fact, too ill for school. That was the goal: but he could not accept it calmly. They would assume he was on death’s welcome mat. Therefore he hissed and protested and derided Brown’s name with only a distant smidgeon of guilt.

But eventually, Damian was ushered to a quiet and dark room to wait while Pennyworth informed the day prison that Damian would be absent from Geology, Geometry, and all manner of vile variations on how one might ensure misery for a lone intellectual in a flood of brainless oafs.

Success.

Brown was delivered and managed to appear in the same room that Damian had been consigned to. She had managed to contrive an unusually poor condition of her normally lustrous hair. That, combined with shapeless clothes and smudged eye makeup, served to make her appear quite terrible indeed.

“You look terrible,” Damian told her, because she had done a good job.

A muscle twitched visibly under her eye.

“Is Bruce gone yet?” She asked.

Damian shook his head. “He will leave at 9:30.”

Brown sucked on her lower lip for a moment and wiggled into the crack of the sofa cushions. “I think we should go to his VHS room before he leaves, so when he notices someone was in there he doesn't see a reason to investigate.”

Damian shook his head minutely. “No. He will take the opportunity to spend the day with his ailing children and watch his favorite childhood show. We will have no opportunity to watch the security footage.”

“Not his kid,” Brown muttered. “But you're right. The chance is too high.” She let her head hit the back of the sofa. “That would be a good way to spend a real sick day, I think.”

Was she wistful?

Damian eyed her in bewilderment. Was she aching for bonding time with Father?

“I shall inform him that you want to watch his detective show at a later date,” he decided generously.

#red young lovers #dp x dc #dc x dp #dead serious #damian wayne #stephanie brown

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