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sirxlla · 2 days ago

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Sorry - Halsey (Batboys)

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Dick: "and never really understood, the way you laid your eyes on me in ways that no one ever could."

To everyone, Dick was always put together. He was a rock, never broken, never sad or angry, just perfect. It was so far from the truth. He felt lonely, angry, and depressed.

This time of year was so taxing on Dick, he had started having nightmares about his parents and that night of the fall. Usually, this time of year, he breezed through it without so many nightmares, but this year was hell. He saw the fall over and over, and his blame for himself came back with a vengeance.

"No. No! No- No- Nononon! No!" Dick woke up with a start, sweat pooled in every crevice having dampened his shirt and pillow. Of course, he woke you up as well, and you went into comfort mode, rubbing his back.

"Hey...I'm right here if you need anything." You said with a soft whispering tone so as not to spike his heart rate more than it already was.

"What if it's my fault? What if it all is? What if everyone's gonna get hurt because of me?" Dick placed his head on your chest and started sobbing as you rubbed circles onto his back.

"Honey, as long as I've known you, I've known that as long as you draw breath, you'll help as many as you can...You'd give someone the shirt off your back and the shoes you were wearing just because they asked. You're an amazing person, and the world is so much better because you're in it. I don't want you to think any differently about it." You rubbed his back as his tears made the silk of your pajama shirt stick to your chest.

"I'm sorry." He wiped his eyes and sniffled. "I shouldn't be crying, everyone sees me like-"

"Hey, I don't give a shit how everyone sees you, and I would never think less of you 'cause you're brave enough to show me how you're feeling. Okay?" You look into those cerulean eyes shining in the dim light of the room.

"I am so proud of you and no one here would ever be disappointed in you, Honey." You hug him as he nuzzles into your chest and calms down a bit until he falls asleep, you rub his back until you fall asleep with him. His drool is now the only thing dampening your sleep shirt.

Jason: "I've missed your calls for months, it seems, I don't realize how mean I can be."

You had been calling him over and over, and he would read it; you could see he did. He was just ignoring it. He had disappeared into what felt like thin air. Had you done something wrong or was he in one of those moods of his where he thinks he's not good enough for anyone?

He's sitting alone in some hotel room in Central City. Jason left everyone alone; he needed some time to sort himself out. He knew that rule about how you have to love yourself to love anyone else, and right now, he couldn't stand the sight of himself. You didn't deserve his bullshit, you didn't deserve his demons that are drowning him alive.

You have sent his messages daily since he disappeared into the blue.

7:36 A.M. Jan 14th - "Everyone loves you." ~Read by JT❤️‍🔥

3:59 P.M. Jan 16th - "I miss you bunches." ~Read by JT❤️‍🔥

2:12 A.M. Jan 17th - "Just stay safe for me? I'd be in pieces if anything happened to you." ~Read by JT❤️‍🔥

8:36 A.M. Jan 19th - "Sorry forgot to text yesterday, I've been so tired, but I still miss you every moment you aren't here." ~Read by JT❤️‍🔥

5:26 P.M. Jan 20th - "Dinners always ready for whenever you come home. I promise." ~Read by JT❤️‍🔥

1:41 A.M. Jan 22nd - "Tokyo misses you, he meows by the door constantly. Please come home, our family misses you." ~Read by JT❤️‍🔥

10:38 A.M. Jan 23rd - "Jase, please. I can't sleep well without you. I don't know what's going on; please explain." ~Read by JT❤️‍🔥

11:37 P.M. Jan 24th - "Jase, Please come home. I'm sorry for whatever I did." ~Read by JT❤️‍🔥

He read the texts. What you did? You did nothing. He realized how stupid and selfish he was being, such an asshole. His fingers typed before he could fully decide what he wanted to do.

"What did you do? Babygirl, you did nothing wrong. I'm coming home, I'm sorry I've just been so stupid about everything recently. I've been worried I'm not enough but I realize I can spend forever getting closer to my idea of perfect for you until you kick me out or my heart stops beating. I'm sorry and I'll be home soon."

You had cried yourself to sleep that night, and you were so exhausted you hadn't seen the text. Tokyo started meowing, and it woke you; you checked the clock, and it was 3:53. You had only been asleep for a few hours.

"Tokyo, go to bed. He's not here." You cry into your pillow, your face is swollen, and your eyes still red from crying earlier.

"I am, Babygirl. I'm so sorry." Jason saw your face and how sad you were; his heart felt heavy in his chest, and he was angry at himself for hurting you so deeply. You didn't know what to do, so you stared at him as he crawled over to you and hugged you. It had been a hard week without him and him hugging you is what finally broke you. You sobbed into his chest, holding onto him tightly.

"Don't you ever do that again, You Asshole!" You sobbed angrily, hugging him tightly as you breathed in the smell of smoke that lingered on his skin.

"I promise, I never will. God, I'm so sorry. I'll spend forever apologizing for this. I'm so fuckin sorry." Jason heard the sadness in your voice and held you tighter til you both fell asleep.

Bruce: "Sorry I could be so blind, Didn't mean to leave you and all of the things that we had behind."

Being Batman and trying to be a billionaire on top of it just really didn't give him the time to be in a relationship. You knew this, and you tried your hardest to make sure that he never felt bad about it, but it doesn't mean that it didn't feel like shit every single time you wanted to do something with him or you had something planned and he had to change it.

Not only does this include dates and evenings and dinner but it was also sometimes that he was just so exhausted he would fall asleep in the middle of whatever you had planned anyways, it sucks.

You love him so deeply, but he's so busy all the time, and you're trying to give it the benefit of the doubt and just hope that, at some point, you'll come first to a degree. You held out for so long, but after a while, you just couldn't do it; you left.

Alfred noticed the note on the counter; if it had been Bruce, he wouldn't have noticed it for weeks.

"Master Wayne, I believe this is for you." Alfred hands the note to Bruce as Bruce is just about to go back out as Batman.

"Dear Bruce, My Love,

This has to be one of the hardest decisions I've ever made but I know it's the only option that I have where I don't feel guilty for taking up your time."

He started reading and then noticed the marks where tears had damped the paper as he continued to read.

"I would never ask you to put me over the people in Gotham. I know why you do what you do,, but it doesn't make it any less hard when I barely see you, and then when I do, you're covered in bruises, and you can barely get out of bed. I can't do this anymore. I love you, and it pains me so much to do this. I can't live a life where I feel so alone; it feels like I'm dating a ghost. I know that in my heart of hearts, I cannot handle this, and I know a child definitely can't. I'm pregnant and I'd rather do this alone than make you feel guilty for not being there or make myself feel guilty for staying. I love you, and I don't want to try to change you; I know what you do, what you do. I'm sorry, My Love.

Sincerely & Yours Always"

He finished reading the letter, and his heart dropped. You were pregnant? When? When did that happen? He should have known.

"I want you to see about Mr. Fox taking over my role in Wayne Enterprises. I'll still own the company the same, but I'll have more time." He asks Alfred; Bruce knows that this is something he should have done a long time ago. He's been missing you anyway, but now he is about to miss out on you for the rest of his life, and he is about to miss out on his kid.

Not even a few days pass before Bruce finds you, he's drenched in rain in civilian clothes. The rain just enhances the smell of his cologne. He looks even more tired than he usually does. It's clear he hasn't slept.

"I will do anything you ask just please don't leave me." He asks you as you open your door and in his hands held your favorite flowers. Bruce's eyes glanced down at your belly as you pulled him in to get him out of the rain, you were showing. He cursed himself in his mind. How could he even have remotely not noticed, considering how far along you are?

You grabbed towels from your hotel bathroom and began to dry him off.

"I let Lucius take over my job at Wayne Enterprises, so I'll have more time for you,, and I promise I will have more time for you, and I'll have more time for a little one. God, can't believe I didn't notice all the signs were there. How's everything been going?" He asks as his hands hover over your belly, asking for silent permission, which you allow when your hands guide him to your tiny bump.

"It's been okay; sleeping's been a bit rough, this mattress is like concrete, and the morning sickness is a bitch, but overall, I'm okay." You told him as his hands moved themselves under your shirt to feel his hands closer to the growing baby.

"Are you planning on coming home? I- I know we usually sleep during most of the day but I- I really wanna be here through this." You could hear the vulnerability and his voice something that rarely ever slipped to that degree.

"I- Yeah... I really didn't want to do this alone either just left because I didn't want you to feel bad."

"Sweetheart, I will never make you feel like you have to do anything alone again if I can help it." His hands still gently rubbing your belly.

"Well, we're definitely not going to make it home tonight, not in this rain, and I still have the room for the night."

He nodded, and the both of you laid down to watch whatever was on TV; it had been a long time since he had felt anything this domestic or 'normal.' It was so nice and calming, something he now had time for so much more with you.

Tim: "But I still know your birthday and your mother's favorite song."

Breaking up was never something either of you wanted to do, but you wanted to go to school in the U.K. that has always been a dream of yours ever since you were a kid, and Tim would never be the type of person to hold you back from your dreams even if it meant he'd get hurt.

At the start, the two of you texted all the time, and you'd show him things all the time, but slowly, he stopped responding, so you stopped texting. He couldn't bear the thought of not being with you, but he had responsibilities here in Gotham; he couldn't just go.

"Hey, Numb Nuts. I asked you a question." Jason prodded as he finally got Tim's attention after what felt like forever.

"Huh?" Tim was confused; he was so in his head that he didn't even remotely hear what Jason said.

"I said, 'Why are you so doom and gloomy?' You're moping around the place like your puppy died." Jason had noticed how low Tim had been for the last month; he thought it might have to do with you, but you left six months ago.

"You not gettin' any more texts from your girlfriend?" Jason asked a bit cheeky but it was clear that concern laced the tonality of his voice.

"No, I stopped responding. I don't wanna make her feel like she has to respond to me." Tim mumbled.

"I know you're not stupid, so why are you acting like a dumbass?" Jason stated with annoyance in his tone.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means you're being a dumbass. You know she loves you and you're ignoring her? Why the hell didn't you go with her anyway?"

"I have responsibilities here-"

"No, fuck your responsibilities; there are plenty of people who can take over for whatever you're doing. You get your ass on a flight and go to her before I beat your ass." Jason stated as he grabbed the laptop out of Tim's hands and started booking a flight.

"Go pack, you're leaving in an hour."

"Who's leaving in an hour?" Dick stretched as he walked in.

"Tim is, he's going to see his girlfriend."

"No, I'm not. Guys, I have things to-"

"Yes, you are." Jason and Dick both cut him off. Dick rushed Tim to his room and started helping Tim pack before he could even begin to process what was going on.

Jason texted you, "I have a surprise, go to the airport at 10:30. Don'tt be late."

In your mind you thought 'Aww, Jason's so sweet. My best friend's gonna meet me here.' So you responded.

"Will do. 🫡"

Several hours passed and you arrived at the airport looking around at baggage claim for Jason. He was a bitch bitch, hard to miss. You kept looking around when you spotted Tim and your heart lept in your chest, running over to him and hugging him deeply.

"Oh my god!" You squealed to his suprise. He thought you mightve moved on but hpw you were acting made it clear you hadnt. His arms squeezed you. After the hug you grabbed one of his rolling bags and helped him to your car.

"Oh my god, it took me so long to learn to drive on the other side of the road..." you started rambling and telling him all about your trips and every little detail as you drove him to your flat. His eyes followed every detail on your face, he wasnt even listening just in awe of you. Tim realized just how much he missed you, he broke out of his trance as you lead him inside.

"I bought everybody stuff, I have a box for Jason and Damian and Bruce. I am so exvited for everyone to get their stuff, its gonna be so fun..." Each box had different stuff that interested each of them, you had a box for Tim too. You still remembered everything even though its been six months. His heart swelled at how sweet you are and he just kissed you right there which interrupted your new ramblings. You shoulders fell and your hands found Tim's face as per normal abd the both of you realized home isn't a place, its a person.

Damian: "And so it seems I broke your heart, My ignorance has struck again"

He had another gala to go to for some charity event; besides, this was something his father demanded he do. It wasn't like he had a choice, did he? He's been Wayne Enterprises' new CEO since his father retired; he's been sucked up in events, meetings, and planning.

Although he had a lot on his plate it was no excuse for how distant he was being. Damian knows the date or at least he should. If this relationship is as important to him as it is to you he'll know the date. Your anniversary and this wasn't one of those little petty short ones or some shit. This was five years.

You decorated the apartment, lit candles, wrapped presents, decorated the bed with rose petals, put on music, and even made dinner and his favorite dessert. You were so excited and so proud of yourself, it took you all day while he was at work to do so.

The only reason you weren't at work is that you took it off for this reason. You thought he'd take a day off, too, but it's okay. He didn't cause you had time to surprise him. You paid for everything yourself, you didn't wanna constantly have to borrow money from him, and it was always good to have a rainy day fund.

The front door alarm chirps, letting you know he's home, and your smile grows larger. He remembered! Oh, you were so excited but that excitement faded when he just went to the bedroom? Confusion filled your features. 'What?' You followed him to the room.

Damian was quickly stripping out of his work suit into an expensive one he uses when he has to go to galas.

"Hello?" You asked all dolled up for him.

"Have you seen my blue silk tie anywhere?" He asked, not even remotely noticing the petals or how you looked.

"No, I haven't seen your fuckin tie." Snapping at him but he just rolled his eyes and didn't notice. He quickly got dressed, sprayed himself with cologne, and made his way out the door again.

You felt your heart get crushed in your chest, he might as well have carved it out and stomped all over it. 'He can remember the date for the gala but not our anniversary?' You sat there and sobbed, it's been the same date every year for the last five years. You ate dinner alone, cleaned everything up, blew out the candles, and raked the petals half hazardly into the trash.

A few candles got accidentally left out, having forgotten to drain the bathtub, several petals still lined the floor, and the presents were still left on the table.

You showered yourself and washed off the makeup that felt like it took you hours to get right, the red lipstick staining the washcloth and your lips. You quickly changed and crawled into bed, alone.

Damian showed up at the apartment hours later, he knew you'd be asleep. The galas ran long so why the hell would you need to stay up and wait for him?

He was starving; the galas didn't serve much food. The only thing you could get in abundance at a gala was alcohol, and Damian never wanted to dull his senses like that, so he didn't drink. He went to the fridge, noticing his favorite food; he put some on a plate and heated it in the microwave, making sure to stop it before it beeped so he wouldn't wake you.

He moved over to the dining table that was covered in presents, and as soon as he saw them, his heart fell into his ass. 'The 18th? Shit! I- Fuck. It's our anniversary, God Damn it.' Damian was tempted to run into the room and apologize but what would it do? It would just wake you up and that would be even more rude on top of him being a jackass already.

He ate his food and cleaned up the rest of the apartment. He needed to figure out an apology quickly. 'How could I be so stupid? Wait, that cake in the fridge said 'Marry me?' She- she wants to marry me. God, I feel awful.'

He didn't know what to do to fix this, he could make some sorta big grand gesture, but those always felt like trying to gander sympathy points, and he wasn't gonna do that shit. Damian was gonna be a man and admit how shitty of a person he is. He would just make you breakfast and apologize, take all the blame 'as one should when they're a jackass'

You came out of the room the next day, your hair messy, face puffy, eyes red, lips still stained fromnthe red lipstick, in your robe with your headphones on. You noticed he wasn't beside you and figured he pulled an all-nighter, and you went to wash your face and get coffee.

You pull out the contacts you forgot to take out last night, you rinse your eyes and throw the contacts out, putting your glasses on before going to get coffee.

As soon as your hand reaches for the coffee pot, Damian's hands find your hips.

"Uh uh, you go park yourself right over there. I'm a jackass so I'm doing anything and everything for you today. Okay?"

"Damian, it's just a date on a calendar." You tried to just brush it off.

"It's not just a date on a calendar, it's everything, and I'm so sorry. I'm not going to sit here and make excuses, I forgot because I was so wrapped up in work. I disregarded the only thing that matters in the entire world to me because I got wrapped up in stupid shit that doesn't even remotely matter as much as you do." Gently grabbing your face and looking into your eyes, the redness and puffiness had gone down but lord did his heart skip a beat to see you in those glasses.

"Now, we can't do it over necessarily, but I'm cutting my work hours. They will be designated for five hours, and then the other three or four will be crime-fighting or whatever else I have going on, and the other fourteen will always be yours. Obviously, you'll have more on vacation days or sick days or days; I just don't want to go to work. I promise you my time whenever you need it even if it is during work hours. I would be content with losing everything else but you, okay?" He continued as he kept gazing into your eyes, and you could see the level of anger he had for himself and how sympathetic he was to help you; you could see the pain in his chest that originated from him hurting you.

"Okay." You sniffled and a few tears fell down your face.

"Also, I know it was supposed to be a surprise, but if you want to marry me, I'll do it right now; we can get engaged and plan the most beautiful wedding ever. Whatever you want, it's yours, and if I can't get it, I will find a way." He said as he wiped your tears from your cheeks. You pulled him into a hug and nodded; he wasn't off the hook; hell, you'd let him off the hook before he ever let himself off of it. That was one thing you loved about him when he made a promise; he stuck to it, and there was no one more disappointed in him right now than himself.

Masterlist

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rebelspykatie · 2 days ago

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Part 4 - Steddie Angst

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4

The only problem is, Eddie doesn’t know how to fix it. Moments where Steve is alone are few and far between, unless he shows up at Steve’s house unannounced. He doesn’t think he’ll be welcome there, if Steve would even answer the door. Which is fair, he wouldn’t talk to himself either if their roles were reversed.

If this skin crawling, stomach turning, palms sweating feeling is how love eats away at your insides, Eddie’s glad he spent the first twenty years of his life devoid of it. How do people live like this? He’s never really been a chick flick kind of guy, but he suddenly understands the plight of the main character that figures it out too late. The idiot that has to stand outside with a boombox and declare his love loudly because he made a mistake.

His chance comes as a happy accident. A New Years Eve party, one with everyone that survived the Upside Down that he reluctantly agreed to come to, and only because Dustin wouldn’t leave him alone until he showed up. Most of the night, Steve keeps that healthy distance from him, not altogether avoiding him, but never allowing himself to be caught at the punch bowl alone.

Steve’s walking around with Eddie’s heart in his hands, even if he doesn’t know it. His skin prickles with awareness when Steve’s near. Everyone has to know that something happened. They used to be inseparable, one mass on a couch, barely able to see where the other ended and began. Now? It’s like they’re two poles of a magnet, an invisible force pushing them to opposite sides of the room, circling each other in a twisted dance.

At some point, he loses sight of Steve, and he gets drawn into a conversation about music with Lucas and Jonathan. He’s on just the right side of loose, nursing a second beer and desperately in need of some fresh air, when people start to get antsy as midnight approaches.

He steps outside the cabin and the cold air melts away his anxiety. He closes his eyes, soaking up the outdoorsy stillness of the night, the only sound the quiet rustle of creatures in the forest’s depths, the echo of distant fireworks, and the ragged breath he inhales. He’s never really gotten accustomed to the packed house that happens when they’re all together, after so many years of just him and Wayne.

He jumps nearly a foot in the air when he hears Steve say, “Hey.”

When he turns towards the sound, he sees the silhouette of Steve with a blanket wrapped around his shoulders. He’s curled up on the bench that sits directly below the window, backlit by the dull yellow light shining through the curtains, keeping most of his face hidden until Eddie’s eyes adjust to the dark.

“I didn’t think anyone was out here,” Eddie says, cautiously inching forward, not sure if he’ll spook Steve.

“It was getting a little overcrowded,” Steve shrugs, the blanket falling off one shoulder, but making no move otherwise. He looks so young like this, and they are young, Eddie knows that. But he also feels ancient after everything they’ve been through. He’s lived too much life for a twenty year old.

It’s a stark reminder that there’s no time to waste. This could be his one opportunity. A gift handed to him from the universe to start the year on a better foot. If Steve can forgive him and listen. Which is more than Eddie deserves.

Eddie slinks over and drops down into the empty space beside Steve, making sure to leave enough space between them, giving Steve an out. He doesn’t move. It’s foolish for that to give him hope, but it does. Steve’s admitted to being overwhelmed as much as Eddie was inside, but he’s not bolting for woods or yelling for Robin. There’s not even a fake smile plastered on his face. Just this quiet, contemplative look as he casts his gaze into the darkness beyond the cabin.

“S-steve,” Eddie starts. He clears his throat and tries again, “Steve, I was wrong.”

It takes a moment for Steve to turn his attention to Eddie, a sharp beat of time where he braces himself, swallowing thickly and shoulders hunching, before their gazes meet. An eternity must have gone by since the last time they made eye contact. Eddie isn’t prepared for the butterflies that take root in his stomach. The way it’s all clicked into place that Steve’s presence in his life is and always has been different.

“About what?” He asks quietly.

“Everything,” Eddie turns his whole body towards Steve. “For most of my life, I’ve never thought about anyone romantically. I didn’t have crushes, or flirtations, or summer flings. None of that mattered to me. Figured I’d leave Hawkins one day, find some chick to settle down with, and have kids like everyone else. Do what was expected of me. Or at least that I would end up an old man living alone in my trailer, like Wayne.”

“Wayne’s not alone, he has you.”

“Not by choice, though.” Eddie laughs wryly. “Doesn’t matter. I just had this idea in my head of what that would look like, but I never stopped to think about whether that was what I even wanted. It never occurred to me that maybe I was missing out on what everyone else was going through in high school, all the dates and prom nights.”

“Are you saying you’ve never had a crush on anyone?” Steve asks, disbelief in his tone. He pulls the blanket back up over his shoulder.

“Not for twenty years of my life. Not a single one.” He takes a deep breath and steadies himself. “Until now.”

“Eddie, I’m not-” Steve moves like he’s going to stand up, but Eddie reaches out and stops him with one hand on his arm over the blanket.

“Steve, please just let me explain.”

TBC - one more part

#stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #katie writes #sorry i left you hanging for 5 months

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dulcescorderitas · 2 days ago

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Hello! How are you? I want to ask something for Clark Kent where the reader has a beauty like Brooke Shields, but the reader still compares herself to Lana? And Clark comforts her?

Thank you.

lamy's notes: stop because writing this made me cry! thank you for sending this request anonie!!

the room was bathed in a warm golden hue, the setting sun spilling through the farmhouse window. the kent home was quiet, except for the soft creak of floorboards as clark moved about the house. you sat curled on the edge of the couch, legs tucked beneath you, an old photo album resting in your lap. your fingers traced the edges of the faded pictures, but your eyes weren’t focused on the memories. instead, they were far away, somewhere deep inside your head.

clark’s voice pulled you from your thoughts, that familiar baritone wrapped in kindness. "hey, there you are. what are you looking at?"

he appeared in the doorway, his tall frame backlit by the soft light. even in a simple flannel shirt and jeans, he looked like a hero. you gave him a faint smile, but it didn’t quite reach your eyes.

"just… old photos," you said quietly, gesturing to the album.

he walked over, his steps unhurried, and lowered himself onto the couch beside you. the cushions dipped under his weight, and his presence was as solid and comforting as ever. "mind if i take a look?"

you shrugged, flipping the page to a spread of school dance photos. clark immediately spotted one of him and lana, their smiles bright, their youth glowing in the camera’s flash.

"those were good times," he said softly, his tone nostalgic but not lingering.

you swallowed, your fingers curling tightly around the edge of the album. the weight in your chest grew heavier as you stared at the picture. lana lang—smallville’s golden girl, with her soft features, glowing skin, and that effortless grace. even in the old, grainy photo, she looked perfect.

next to her, you felt like… well, not enough.

"she’s beautiful," you murmured, barely above a whisper. your voice carried something raw, something you hadn’t meant to let out.

clark turned to you, his brow furrowing. "she is. but why are you saying it like that?"

you hesitated, biting your lip. you hated how small your voice sounded, but you couldn’t stop yourself. "because… i mean, look at her. she’s perfect. everyone always talks about lana like she’s this untouchable, beautiful thing. and then there’s me."

clark blinked, clearly caught off guard. "what are you talking about? you’re—"

"don’t say it," you cut him off, shaking your head. "don’t just say i’m beautiful because you think you have to. lana’s the kind of beauty people notice. i’m not like that. i’m just…" your voice cracked, and you looked away, embarrassed.

clark sat there for a moment, processing your words, his gaze steady on you. then, without a word, he reached over and gently closed the photo album.

"look at me," he said, his voice calm but insistent.

you hesitated before finally meeting his eyes. they were impossibly blue, full of something you couldn’t quite name but felt all the same.

"you think i’m saying it because i have to?" he asked, his tone soft but firm. "no. i’m saying it because it’s the truth. you’re beautiful. not just the kind of beautiful people notice, but the kind of beautiful people remember."

your throat tightened at his words, but you managed a small, shaky laugh. "you’re just saying that because you love me."

he smiled, that signature clark kent smile—wide and earnest and utterly disarming. "exactly. and because i love you, i see you for who you are. every little thing about you. the way your laugh lights up a room. the way your eyes soften when you talk to people. the way you never realize just how much you light up the world around you."

you blinked rapidly, trying to keep the tears from falling, but he wasn’t done.

"lana’s great. she always will be. but she’s not you. she doesn’t have your strength, your kindness, your heart." his voice dropped lower, his hand reaching out to brush a strand of hair behind your ear. "she’s not the one who makes me feel like i can do anything, just by being in the same room as her. that’s you."

your lips parted, but no words came out. his sincerity was overwhelming, grounding, wrapping around you like the warmest embrace.

"you’re everything," he said, his thumb brushing lightly over your cheek. "i wish you could see yourself the way i see you."

you finally let the tears fall, and clark pulled you into his arms without hesitation, holding you close. his warmth, his presence, his love—it was all there, solid and unshakable.

"you’re allowed to have doubts," he whispered into your hair. "but never doubt this: you’re the only one for me. no one else. not now, not ever."

you clung to him, the weight in your chest slowly lifting as his words sank in. maybe you’d never see yourself the way he did, but in that moment, it didn’t matter. because clark kent—the man who could have had anyone in the world—chose you.

and that, you realized, was something lana could never take away.

taglist: @iloveeveryoneyoureamazing @legalmente-loca @bluemerakis @whisperingdaze

#lamy garden #clark kent #clark kent smallville imagine #clark kent x reader #clark kent x you #clark kent x y/n #superman comics #clark kent x female reader #smallville #superman #smallville clark kent #smallville 2001 #tom welling

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strawberryhotlips · 12 hours ago

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༆THE LAST WOMAN ON EARTH ☢︎︎- ➪enhypen ot7 x fem reader

SYNOPSIS: Moving to South Korea at just 20 years old to study medicine was something that made you extremely proud. You had so many plans for the future, but it seems that fate doesn't want the same for you. Overnight, a virus that affects only women spreads throughout the world, causing all the women in the world to die in a matter of weeks. You were the only one left standing, the problem? Nobody knew, only you. As time passed, you managed to survive this post-apocalyptic world, where you had to hide from men because if someone knew that a woman still existed, everything would go to hell for you. You didn't expect seven strangers to break into your house in the middle of the night and you didn't expect what was going to happen next either.

Word Count: 5.3k

Pairing: enhypen! x fem!reader

Genre: Suspense, death, dystopian, post-apocalyptic world, angst, too much drama, slow burn, smut as the chapters go by (mdni), fluff, Possessiveness, jealousy, fights, toxicity, lots of love (I know, it sounds contradictory) enhypen are complete losers for the reader in the best way, strangers to lovers and other things that may happen later

Warnings!⚠️: Death, loss of loved ones, use of weapons, depression and anxiety problems, mentions of suicide, survival, vulgar and sometimes offensive language, graphic descriptions of traumatic events. If you are sensitive, don't read it for your own good. Everyone is of legal age!! Heeseung is 26, Jay, Jake and Sunghoon are 25, Sunoo is 23, Jungwon is 22 and Ni-ki is 21.

Status: ongoing (16-01-2025 - )

Disclaimer: This is a work of pure fiction, everything came out of my head, the personality of the characters are not real and do not represent them in real life in any way, any resemblance to reality is purely coincidental. Everyone is of legal age in this universe. English is not my first language so you will probably find spelling mistakes.

Hi beautiful people!! I'm back with the third chap of this story. It took me almost five days to write it, but here it is finally!! I hope you enjoy it as much as I do!! Xoxo, aby..

CHAPTER I: "Disaster"

CHAPTER II: "Loneliness"

CHAPTER III: "Trust Issues"

more under the cut ☟︎︎︎

"I will kill you..."

Fuck, you couldn't have been any clearer with your words. If they made you the slightest bit suspicious, you would blow their heads off. And as much as you had said before that you didn't want to kill them, if they gave you reason even after your warning, you would have no choice.

After that, you had simply thrown some clothes at them, muttering a "take a bath and clean up this mess," pointing to the wet and muddy floor, and then disappeared upstairs.

You had locked yourself in your room (literally) because you had locked the lock with a homemade key that you had made at the beginning of all this when you didn't feel safe even in your room and felt the need to lock it. You had no energy for anything else, and that night you just lay in your bed, hoping to be alive the next day, while you heard little murmurs on the first floor, and also heard the boys walking around, probably cleaning up.

After a few minutes, surprisingly, you managed to fall asleep. ....

----------

The seven men in your house had barely gotten a wink of sleep the night before, they had been able to bathe properly and clean up as you had asked, but the fact of their new reality, living with you, the last remaining woman, had not let them rest properly.

And now it was a whole new reality that they had to adjust to, but damn it, it was so hard knowing that you were sleeping one floor away. They had you so close but so far away at the same time that it was almost impossible to get comfortable enough to sleep because there was something going on in their heads that would not leave them alone....

you

your existence, your presence, even the ghost of your perfume that had lingered in the living room and how you had confronted them so powerfully the night before. It was just you.

The next morning, the smell of cooking woke you from your sleep. Hell, you knew how to cook, but you hadn't smelled anything that tasty in years. That meant only one thing, one of the boys was using your kitchen, and whatever was cooking smelled delicious.

You replaced your pajamas with a pair of jogging pants and a tight, slightly short, long-sleeved t-shirt that revealed the delicate little metal that adorned your belly button. You combed your hair a little, and in the bathroom of your room you brushed your teeth and washed your face. Little things in your daily routine that you were still allowed to do.

You put your gun in your makeshift gun belt and unlocked the door to your room. What you didn't expect when you walked out was to see two of the boys sitting against the wall on either side of your door, asleep. Their expressions were unreadable as you looked at them doubtfully, now that you could see them better in the morning sunlight. Their features were relaxed, a stark contrast to how tense they had been the night before, they were wearing the clothes you had thrown at them, and they really were attractive men, but then again, you couldn't stop and thinking about that now.

With a sigh, you looked at them for a few more seconds before shaking your head and walking down the hall to the stairs. You didn't bother to wake them, figuring that if they slept so much, it was because their bodies needed it. Besides, the tension of the night before and the discovery that there was still a woman alive must have exhausted them.

When you reached the first floor after descending the stairs, you could visualize four more guys, scattered randomly on the couch in your living room, also completely asleep. You remembered two of them, one of them you had pointed the gun at and the other was the arrogant shameless jackass, yes, you remembered him very well and now his cute sleeping face had not a hint of arrogance, being able to fool anyone with that appearance of fake innocence.

Well, maybe you were being a bit dramatic but in your defense he had been a jerk to you.

Rolling your eyes at the memory, the delicious smell of food grew stronger as you walked through the living room. You could hear the small clink of the frying pan and the snap of something frying as you approached the kitchen.

When you finally got there, you could see the missing boy, obviously cooking, he hadn't noticed your presence yet, so you decided to lean against the door frame with your arms crossed and a serious expression on your face.

"Morning..." you finally spoke, your voice devoid of emotion as you watched him jump in surprise, "Shit...you scared me..." he turned to you with his eyes a little wide and a hand on his chest in shock as he tried to calm his slightly accelerated breathing.

You almost laughed at the scene but decided to keep your expression serious as you watched him intently. He looked at you for a second and then quickly looked back to the frying pan where he was cooking scrambled eggs while he cleared his throat, "So you're up already?" you could swear he was pretty nervous from the way his body was tense and the silly question he had asked since you were literally standing in front of him.

This was going to be fun.

"Jay, right?..." you clearly remembered his name because that cheeky idiot had called him that the night before as you shushed him, "yeaah, I'm starting to think you're paid to ask stupid questions..." there was a lot of seriousness in your voice as you deliberately gave him a glare, raising both your eyebrows as you watched him open his mouth to try and answer, but he just couldn't.

You remembered his name

and it sounded so beautiful coming out of your lips and it made Jay's head spin a little. Because he didn't want to look like an idiot in front of you, but your presence only, made it difficult.

You spoke again, meeting his gaze, "May I ask what you are doing in my kitchen?" your eyes had a little gleam of amusement in them now, but your voice was still deadly serious.

Jay looked at you and then at the ladle in his hand that he was using to cook, "w-well...i was making the...breakfast..." he cleared his throat again as you heard him stutter. You nodded as a sound of mock approval passed through your throat, "with my food..." you replied as you shook your head in acknowledgement, pointing to the eggs in the pan.

Your eyes never left his fake calm expression, his body language and voice clearly betraying the nervousness he was trying to hide in your presence.

"Uhu..it's just that I thought you'd all be hungry when you woke up, s-so i thought it would be a good idea to have breakfast ready..." he cursed himself for stuttering so much, damn, instead of a man he looked like a teenager dealing with puberty.

"Ahem..." you let the silence fill the kitchen air with anticipation, you kept looking at him wordlessly and Jay could swear he felt smaller and smaller under your gaze.

And fuck, he literally hadn't done anything wrong, yet your eyes seemed to judge the depths of his soul as the tension was suffocating in the deafening silence, and he hadn't missed the gun you seemed to always carry with you.

You didn't trust them

That was Jay's conclusion and it was obvious, who would in a situation like yours? he couldn't, nor did he have the right to blame you for judging his every move, after all it was basically you against the world.

You, on the other hand, were having quite a bit of fun deliberately making him nervous, curious to see how he would react and how the mere fact of talking to him or making him so nervous would make you wonder if you would have the same effect on the other guys as well.

"You know...I divided the food into portions..." you commented after a few seconds of silence that seemed like an eternity to Jay. At your words, his eyes immediately met yours and he blinked several times, thinking about what to say.

Fuck, he hadn't thought of that, of course, a day ago it was just you, you only had to worry about what you were going to eat, but now with the arrival of the seven of them, the picture as to how long the meal would last was completely different and Jay had overlooked that.

"Next time, ask me before you take my food, even if you have to break down my bedroom door and wake me up, ask me first, is that clear?" your voice was a little more relaxed now, but with the same seriousness as you pulled yourself away from the door frame to move a little closer to the oven where Jay was cooking.

He nodded immediately at your clear command, because yeah, it was a command, no room for argument in your words, "Sure, of course, it won't happen again..." he turned his head to look at you again and was surprised to see you closer than before, swallowing hard as he tried to hold your piercing gaze as he watched you nod at his statement.

"Speaking of my room, who are the two clowns sleeping on my doorstep like they were camping?" your question caught Jay off guard as he stopped cooking for a few seconds and stared at the frying pan, then closed his eyes, frowning and denying in frustration.

Those idiots!

He let out a sigh and then opened his eyes, finally turning off the oven. He slowly turned to you with a flushed face as he seemed to be searching for words to say, "Sorry, I didn't think they mean it when they said they would sleep outside your room..." he licked his lips as he served the scrambled eggs on different plates, "The black haired one is Ni-ki and the gray haired one is Jake..." you finally knew who was who and you laughed inwardly as you saw Jay fighting with himself not to go and wake them both.

"Oh...they thought it would be a good idea to stand guard outside my room..." you said, pressing the buttons even harder as Jay got redder by the second. He ran his hand over his face in frustration, "I'm really sorry...Ni-ki is the youngest of the group and Jake always goes along with his nonsense..." he let out another sigh as he finished his words, apologizing on behalf of his friends.

So Ni-ki and Jake were the reason why everyone was here now. You wondered what had gone through their heads to dare to escape in the middle of the night, not only breaking the curfew and putting themselves in danger, but also being chased by the police.

A few more minutes and they could have caught them, they could have caught you.

The smell of bacon brought you out of your thoughts as for the first time you showed an expression as you watched Jay place it on the plates, next to the scrambled eggs. "You used the bacon Jay, it was saved for special occasions, there were only three packages left and you used them..." your tone was accusatory as your eyes, a little wider than usual, shifted from Jay to the bacon on the plates, repeatedly.

Jay immediately widened his eyes when he heard you and seemed to panic as he realized the implication of your words and began to ramble, "I-I'm so sorry...I had no idea, fuck...I didn't mean it. We can still buy more, I swear I'll replace them and leave everything as it was-..." you cut him off as a few specific words caught your attention.

Uh, buy more? What the fuck did he mean?

"What do you mean, buy more?" your question came out with a mixed tone of annoyance and disbelief "Do you have a job? or money?" your lack of understanding was reflected in every word you said as you looked at Jay for answers.

how could he possibly have a job if only essential services were still running? was he part of any essential services? because if he was, you were screwed. The Essential Services worked with the government, who had offered a billion dollar reward if one of their workers found a woman and gave her to them so they could experience the repopulation of the world with her.

"N-no, I don't have a job…" Jay hurried to speak when he saw your panicked face and how your hand had unconsciously gone to your gun, your expression hardened at his words, you wanted answers and you wanted them now "My father, he was doing very well in business and he left the inheritance to me since i'm an only child..." he clarified the situation quickly but you continued to look at him with narrowed eyes.

"What happened to him, he didn't want to be a millionaire overnight by giving everything to his beloved son?" the sarcasm and annoyance was clear in your voice full of suspicion as you questioned him without measuring your words and that's when Jay's expression changed.

He swallowed as his eyes, now filled with what seemed to be sadness, longing, and frustration, looked at you for a few seconds, only for you to notice that they were filled with...tears...

Oh..

He was going to cry?

"When my mother died from the virus, at the beginning of it all...my father could only hold on to life for a few more months before he decided to give up and go with her...a-and...and...i saw it all..." shit, why did you have to be so loose with your tongue? Jay had lost his parents, who were the only family he had, and not only that, he had to witness his father's suicide, fuck, that must have been really traumatic and fucking painful.

You immediately took your hand away from your gun and looked at him with empathy, you too had lost your whole family, the pain was unbearable and you couldn't imagine his, but, in a way, you shared the same pain, having lost your families...

The boys were all the family he had left

And not just Jay, all seven of them must feel the same way, they had all lost a lot and they recognized each other as the only family they had left. Then in that moment you understood, no matter what big trust issues you had towards them, they were human beings, just like you, they were fragile, just like you, they had lost everything, just like you, and the only thing they were clinging to was the hope that somehow it would get better, they didn't even know where it came from, but they were hoping that all their suffering had not been in vain

just like you

And then, without knowing what to say, you raised one of your hands and placed it gently on one of Jay's shoulders. He took a deep breath as he felt your touch, something that had become immeasurably distant, but that he hadn't realized he was missing until now, the comfort. His eyes, crystallized with unshed tears, looked sideways at your hand on his shoulder before they slid down his cheeks of their own accord, unbidden and silent.

Your heart squeezed at the sight of his crying, at the realization that he allowed himself to be vulnerable in a world where vulnerability killed you "Jay...I...I'm so sorry..." those were the only words your head allowed to leave your lips, but it was enough to express in your now soft and delicate voice that you both shared the same fucking pain.

Jay was overwhelmed for a moment, your words, as simple as they were, brought him a comfort he needed long ago, and that was enough for him to have his arms wrapped around your waist from one moment to the next, pulling your body into an almost trembling embrace that he seemed to need so desperately, an embrace that screamed how much he needed the contact, the affection, the containment and the relief.

For a few seconds your body couldn't react and you were paralyzed. You hadn't had this kind of direct contact in years and it was something that took you and your head by surprise. You felt Jay hide his face in your neck almost instinctively and his tears began to flow more abundantly as he clung to you as if his life depended on it.

It struck you as odd, like, yeah, you understood that the memory of the loss of his family would cause him so much pain, but you had become so used to suppressing your emotions that it was unusual for you to see such a vulnerable and fragile man clinging to you. But after a few seconds of processing the situation, you realized that his crying was not only because he had lost his family, it was also because of the weight that had been on his back all these years, you realized that surely he had also had to suppress what he was feeling, and finding you and being in your arms now was an instant relief and a great weight that he no longer had on his back.

His cry was a liberating one

One that spoke of how much he had endured over time and that he had finally found the relief he had been so desperately waiting for. Then, understanding this, you slowly let your arms wrap around his shoulders, finally returning his embrace as his body visibly relaxed under your gentle touch. Leaving your suspicion behind, you decided to give him a moment of comfort, and decided to listen to the human part of you instead of the rational part.

Heart over brain

Jay couldn't quite process what was going on, he only understood that you had welcomed his distress, that you hadn't taken him away from you, and that he inevitably found overwhelming comfort in your arms. Your scent soothed him, causing him to breathe shakily into the crook of your neck as his cry was silenced. Clinging to you, to your small waist and feeling the warmth of your body against his, helped him to calm down and understand that he was no longer alone, that he could express himself and act like a human being, at least with you.

Your chest felt tight, a shiver ran down your spine as you felt the slight trembling in Jay's body, but it diminished as the minutes passed, until finally you could no longer feel his tears soaking your shirt, and his once shaky breathing had been replaced by a soft and slower one. His crying had stopped, but he wasn't letting go and didn't seem to want to for the foreseeable future.

That is, until a clearing of the throat caused the two of you to abruptly separate for some reason. You turned to where the voice was coming from and your brow furrowed in annoyance as you saw the idiot in the kitchen door frame.

Right, 'the idiot' was your name for him.

He looked at you and then at Jay with an expression you couldn't quite understand, his eyes narrowed and his jaw visibly clenched "bravo.... you were really fast Jay...you got to her before any of us..." his tone was contemptuous, bordering on desperate as he made that ridiculous claim.

Jay on the other hand was sniffling and still looking at him with red eyes with obvious annoyance, "What the fuck, Heeseung Hyung, what kind of bullshit approach is that?..." the anger was clear in his voice as he snapped at him.

So 'the idiot' called himself Heeseung.

You raised an eyebrow at the situation and then sighed, really, what the hell was he trying to imply?

Heeseung had been awakened by the distant smell of scrambled eggs and bacon, his stomach growling with hunger and he just got up from the couch and followed the smell to the kitchen, but he didn't expect what he would find: You and Jay, hugging, obviously very close to each other.

His blood immediately and almost inevitably boiled with envy and jealousy, he knew you weren't an object, but he didn't like the idea of seeing his friends touching you in the slightest, and that was very clear to him:

Heeseung wanted you for himself

and the thought of having to share you with his other six friends was really hard for him to accept. Well, not only for him, the seven of them were extremely territorial and the situation could only get worse 'cause you were the only woman left, but hell, how could he even pretend to get to you when he was acting like a complete idiot?

Heeseung let out an unfunny laugh as he looked at Jay, the tension in the kitchen air was intense "Who do you think you are Jay, you think you have the right to touch her?" Jay frowned in annoyance at Heeseung's accusatory tone "Give it up dude...she's not a fucking object and she doesn't belong to you..." the complaint in Jay's voice was clear as your eyes shifted from him to Heeseung in disbelief.

Is this for real? they were making a jealous scene right in front of you.

"Hey stop talking shit, both of you..." the soft voice you had used with Jay before had been replaced by a cold and cutting tone "I don't belong to anyone and in case you haven't noticed..I'm right here, damn it..." now you were annoyed, really. The moment of consolation with Jay had been nice, but the fact that they were now acting like dogs fighting over meat didn't fucking amuse you at all and seemed hypocritical.

Heeseung and Jay seemed to be in a heated duel of glances, and fuck, if looks could kill, you thought they'd both be ten meters underground long ago, they both seemed to be about to say something, but your angry footsteps coming out of the kitchen made them both shut up.

Your angry footsteps echoed through the living room and down the stairs, and then there was a loud slamming of the door. You had locked yourself in your room. Heeseung and Jay could clearly feel your anger, so they were about to start fighting again, because the rivalry for your attention had already begun.

"Enough..." Jungwon's cold and cutting voice echoed in the kitchen, cutting off every word that came out of his elders' mouths. He walked into the kitchen, sipping a glass of water as if it was his home, then leaned against the counter and crossed his arms, finally turning his gaze to Heeseung and Jay.

"Shame on you, you're the most grown up of the group..." his voice was cold as he clenched his jaw in clear annoyance "What do you want to achieve by behaving like this?...you're going to scare her away and get her to throw us all out on the street.... " He sighed as he shook his head disapprovingly, "We've only been here one night, not even a full day, and you're already fighting to see which one of you gets her attention first? very mature of you, really..." the sarcasm and annoyance were very clear in his firm and cutting voice.

The air was suffocating for both Heeseung and Jay, because when Jungwon was serious and even more so when he was angry, it was scary, so much so that neither of them could look him in the eyes, even if their expressions were hard, even if they were annoyed and even if they had the urge to answer him, neither of them did it "Let this shit not happen again, we don't want to scare her, we want to make her feel comfortable and gain her trust..." his statement was firm, leaving no room for retorts "You two brag about how much sex you had but you have no fucking idea how to treat a woman...", A dry laugh without a hint of grace left his lips, to which Heeseung and Jay only sigh and nod slightly at Jungwon's cutting words, and that was enough for him to drop the subject and leave the kitchen, but not before giving them both a warning look and taking one of the plates of egg and bacon.

---------

It was something that really made you angry. Because you hadn't allowed them to stay to be treated like a damned object, but on the other hand, you felt desired. Even though you knew that it was something inevitable because there were no more women to desire, something inside you felt good about it, something about possessiveness and jealousy made you sigh, not in anger but in satisfaction. You didn't think you were a person with a twisted mind, or at least you didn't give that image. But you were frustrated and pleased at the same time that they couldn't take more than a whole day to start fighting over you.

You knew it was going to happen eventually, they were men around your age, all damn attractive, so you suspected they'd never been rejected by women before, and you were also very attractive as far as you were concerned. So it wasn't surprising that they were jealous or fought over you, but you didn't expect them to let it show so quickly. Even though you didn't want to let them off so easily, it was clear that you didn't trust them yet and that you needed to get to know them better before you could allow yourself to feel completely at ease.

Now, locked in your room, you thought about the moment you had spent with Jay: it was beautiful, sad and nostalgic, but beautiful at the same time. Feeling his strong arms around you affected you more than you wanted, but you couldn't blame yourself, you hadn't had human contact for years and this embrace was something that surprised you, your conscience was clear, you were a human too and humans were social beings, made to be accompanied, not alone.

They had been together all these years, but you had faced a loneliness that ate you up more and more every day, then you told yourself that enjoying a hug was not a bad thing. The slam of the door you had slammed was enough for the aforementioned Jake and Ni-ki to stop camping outside your room and join the other boys downstairs, wondering what had happened.

A knock on your door brought you out of your thoughts and made you jump slightly in your bed, "Miss, it's me...the red haired boy, my name is Jungwon..." you heard a voice that was already familiar. Of course, the red haired boy, the one who had tried to calm the whole atmosphere between you and the idiot when you had pointed your gun at him.

With some confusion, you got off your bed and unlocked the door, only to see Jungwon standing on the other side with a plate of egg and bacon that smelled damn good. He held the plate out to you with a slight grimace, "You should have breakfast, miss..." he suggested and you stepped aside and let him into your room, sitting on the edge of your bed without thinking much about it.

Jungwon followed you with a careful step, not wanting to intrude into your space, your room.

Fuck, YOUR room.

He swallowed hard when he realized that he was in a woman's room, a very attractive woman, something that had never happened to him because before all this he had never dated, calling them a waste of time and preferring to study and do well academically. The only room he had ever been in was his sister's room or his mother's room, so this was new to him and he couldn't help but take a quick look around, scanning your space with curious and longing eyes.

"Thank you, Jungwon..." your voice snapped him out of his trance and he quickly nodded to your words, ignoring the butterflies in his stomach when he heard you call his name, "Yeah, it's nothing...it's the least I could do after those idiots made that scene in front of you..." he said regretfully as he placed the plate on some of your furniture to then put his hands in the front pockets of his jeans.

You looked at him for a few seconds, then nodded in understanding, but something distracted you.

He really was, just so cute.

Seeing your silence, he took the liberty of continuing, "I apologize in their stead, Miss..." He spoke with firmness and determination as he looked at you intently, "I'll make sure it doesn't happen again..." his voice was commanding, practically with born leadership, you frowned with a mixture of confusion and surprise, but didn't reply. He seemed to have this under control so easily, so you just gave him a nod.

You couldn't deny that you were fascinated by Jungwon, you wanted to know him better. He seemed to be someone very intelligent, who simply radiated confidence, but not the kind of confidence that scares you, but the kind that makes you feel a certain respect for him.

What you didn't know was that inside he was trying to ignore your precious presence, as well as the overwhelming smell of you that surrounded every corner of your room. He held himself back, he wanted to keep himself sane.

or at least appear to be.

But his legs were almost shaking and his composure was about to explode at the thought of being alone with you for the first time, alone with a woman who was not a member of his family for the first time in his life. He didn't want you to see the strong effect you had on him, not yet, so he simply nodded at your silence and turned with the intention of leaving your room, not only to give you your space, but also not to lose control of himself. But one thing he was sure of: if he had to fight with his friends for you, he would do it without any doubt, he just didn't want to show himself as immature as Heeseung and Jay had done.

"____...." your voice stopped his footsteps before he could leave your room, he instead turned around and looked at you curiously, giving you room to continue talking "That's my name...don't call me Miss anymore, okay?" Your words took him by surprise but he nodded without hesitation, all his tough exterior melted away as the blush came to his face at a ridiculous speed "Okay ___ Noona..." now it was your turn to blush.

Fuck, you couldn't deny that you loved being called that name, it was one of your weaknesses and Jungwon had found it out without any trouble.

He gave you a shy little smile, letting you see his adorable dimples that you hadn't been able to see before.

Shit, he was really cute.

He walked out of your room with his heart beating fast and you allowed yourself to smile for a few seconds. They all had different personalities and you would have to learn to deal with each of them, but from your point of view, it wouldn't be that hard if they started acting like Jungwon.

It would be a long and hard process, but one that you were sure would be worth it...

Taglist 🫶🏻: @strxwbloody @ch4c0nnenh4 @aussie-boys-wife @deobitifull @engeneheree @merwdusa @elairah @suhwife @d-dilemma @liafterhours @btxtenha @wonenonline-blog @cara9065 @otterluver05 @imnotsadtoday @immelissaaa

not the reader losing it for Jungwon lmao

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luckymilkshakerebel · 3 days ago

Text

Title: Tangled Strings

Genre: angst,one side love

Words:2k

Cast : i.n(Jeongin) x female reader

---

The room was alive with music and chatter, but all I could hear was the sound of my heart thundering in my chest. There he was, i.n, standing near the kitchen counter, laughing at something my best friend seohyun had just said. His laughter felt like music in a room full of noise.

I’d always been the quiet one, the observer. seohyun? She was the life of the party—the charming one with the perfect smile and effortless charisma. Jeongin gravitated toward her like a moth to a flame. And me? I was the one holding the flame, watching it burn in someone else’s hands.

It had started innocently enough. Jeongin and I met during a late-night study session in the library. He had been struggling with calculus, and I, ever the math nerd, offered to help. From that moment on, we’d clicked. We became friends—close friends. We’d spend hours talking about everything and nothing, from his dream of becoming an artist to my obsession with coding.

But somewhere along the way, my feelings shifted. His laugh became the thing I looked forward to most. jeongin,his presence the anchor that kept my chaotic world steady.

I fell for jeongin. Hard. Too hard

The problem was, he didn’t fall for me. He fell for my frien, seohyun.

It wasn’t her fault, not really. Seohyun had been my best friend since kindergarten. She didn’t know how I felt about Jeongin, and I didn’t have the guts to tell him. I didn’t want to ruin what we had—our easy camaraderie, the years of inside jokes and shared memories. So, I stayed silent.

But it hurt. Every time I saw them together, every time he looked at him with stars in his eyes, it felt like a punch to the gut.

---

It was a Saturday night when everything came to a head. Seohyun had invited a few of us over to her apartment for a movie marathon. Jeongin was, of course, among the guests. I’d been dreading it all day, but the idea of not seeing his was even worse.

The movie played on the screen, but my attention was elsewhere. Jeongin was sitting on the couch next to seohyun, his head tilted toward him as she whispered something in his ear. He laughed, he cheeks flushing. My stomach twisted.

“Hey, you okay?”

I turned to see Mina, another friend from our group, eyeing me with concern.

“Yeah,” I said quickly, forcing a smile. “Just tired.”

She didn’t look convinced but let it go.

When the movie ended, seohyun suggested a game of truth or dare. I wanted to groan. It was such a cliché, but no one else seemed to mind.

“Alright,” seohyun said, grinning as he spun an empty beer bottle. It landed on jeongin. “Truth or dare?”

“Truth,” jeongin said, brushing his hair

Seohyun leaned forward, a mischievous glint in her eyes. “Who’s your crush?”

The room erupted in laughter and cheers, everyone urging jeongin to spill. My heart sank.

Jeongin's cheeks turned pink. He hesitated for a moment before glancing at seohyun. “It’s… you.”

The room went silent for a beat, and then someone let out a low whistle. Seohyun looked genuinely surprised, but she quickly recovered, flashing his that perfect smile. “Well, that’s flattering,” she said, her tone light.

I wanted to disappear.

---

I left the party early, mumbling something about an early morning meeting. No one questioned it, not even seohyun. As soon as I got home, I collapsed onto my bed, staring up at the ceiling.

How had I let this happen? How had I allowed myself to fall for someone who would never see me the way I saw him?

The next day, I avoided them. My phone buzzed a few times—texts from seohyun and jeongin asking if I was okay—but I ignored them. I needed space to clear my head.

But space didn’t erase the memories. It didn’t stop me from replaying every moment I’d spent with Jeongin, every smile, every laugh. And it didn’t stop the ache in my chest when I thought about him and seohyun together.

---

A week passed before I saw them again. Seohyun had organized a small get-together at a local coffee shop, and I couldn’t avoid it without raising suspicion.

When I arrived, Jeongin was already there, sitting next to Seohyun. He looked up as I approached, his face lighting up.

“Hey! We missed you last week,” jeongin said.

“Yeah, everything okay?” seohyun asked, her brow furrowed.

“Yeah,” I lied, forcing a smile. “Just busy.”

The evening passed in a blur of conversation and laughter, but I felt like an outsider looking in. I was there, but I wasn’t really there.

Toward the end of the night, jeongin pulled me aside.

“You’ve been quiet lately,” he said, his voice soft. “Is something wrong?”

I hesitated. Part of me wanted to tell him the truth, to let it all out. But the other part knew it would only make things worse.

“I’m fine,” I said finally. “Just dealing with some stuff.”

His eyes searched mine, and for a moment, I thought he might push further. But he just nodded.

“Well, if you ever want to talk, I’m here,” he said.

“Thanks,” I murmured, my throat tight.

---

Weeks turned into months, and I tried to move on. I threw myself into my work, spending late nights coding and avoiding social events. Seohyun and jeongin started dating, and while they tried to be discreet at first, it wasn’t long before their relationship was out in the open.

It hurt. Every time I saw them together, every time seohyun mentioned his name, it felt like a fresh wound. But I didn’t let it show. I couldn’t.

One night, seohyun showed up at my apartment unannounced.

“Hey,” she said, stepping inside. “You’ve been MIA lately. What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” I said, avoiding her gaze.

“Bullshit,” she said, crossing her arms. “This isn’t like you. Talk to me.”

I hesitated, the words caught in my throat. Finally, I sighed.

“It’s… complicated,” I said.

Seohyun frowned. “What is?”

I looked at her, my chest tightening. She was my best friend. I owed him the truth.

“It’s Jeongin,” I said quietly. “I… I have feelings for him.”

The room fell silent. Seohyun's expression shifted from confusion to understanding, and then to something I couldn’t quite place.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” she asked.

“Because it doesn’t matter,” I said bitterly. “He’s with you.”

Seohyun ran a hand through her hair, looking genuinely conflicted.

“I didn’t know,” she said. “If I had—”

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” I said quickly. “Neither of you did. It’s my problem, not yours.”

Seohyun sighed, sitting down on the couch. “Girl, I don’t even know what to say.”

“You don’t have to say anything,” I said. “I just… I needed to get it off my chest.”

---

Things changed after that. Seohyun tried to act normal, but there was a tension between us that hadn’t been there before. Jeongin noticed it too, though he didn’t say anything.

Eventually, I realized I couldn’t keep living like this. I needed to let go—for my sake and theirs.

So, I started pulling away. I found new hobbies, made new friends. It wasn’t easy, and there were days when I wanted to give up, to fall back into old habits. But slowly, I began to heal.

One evening, months later, I found myself at a park, watching the sun dip below the horizon. My phone buzzed with a message from jeongin.

“Miss you,” it read.

I stared at the screen for a long time before typing a response.

“Miss you too. Let’s catch up soon.”

I meant it.

Because even though my heart had been broken, I wasn’t ready to let go of the people who meant the most to me.

---

Time passed, and the pain faded into a dull ache. Seohyun and jeongin stayed together, and I found peace in the knowledge that they made each other happy.

And me? I found someone else—someone who saw me the way I had seen Jeongin.

Love isn’t always easy. Sometimes, it’s messy and painful. But it’s also beautiful, in its own way.

And as I stood there, holding the hand of the person who had finally taught me what it meant to be loved, I realized that I wouldn’t trade my journey for anything.

Because it led me here.

What did you think? Give me any idea if you want

New writer

Want to read more you can go to my MASTERLIST

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the-bleeding-weave · 3 days ago

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My headcanon posts are doing some numbers it seems, dont worry i got yall

CW!! there will be some nsfw stuff in this, nothing descriptive but suggestive enough that i feel i should put a disclaimer. Mostly just describing their sex lives on a surface level

Heres some curlya and ansuke headcanons :D

Curlya (in a happy au where nothing bad happened :) )

Curly always carries at least 2 condoms in his wallet at all times, both for obvious reasons and also a past incident involving an egg sandwich (no i will not elaborate)

Anya has a decently higher libido than curly which means she initiates most of the time but hes perfectly fine with that, it works out for both of them.

Their sex tends to be pretty casual and playful, experimenting and joking around

They love going for long drives listening to music and singing together

They love listening to podcasts in the morning while they both do chores and make comments and jokes about it to each other

They do this so often theyve considered starting their own podcast

Curly thrives on physical affection, he loves giving hugs to everyone but especially anya. He always greets her with a hug and holding her hand or rubbing her arm

She adores this and leans into it a ton, literally and figuratively

She shows her affection mostly through quality time, she just loves existing in the same room as him

She likes leaving little notes for him everywhere, affirmations and jokes and sometimes just little doodles

Anyas favorite places to be kissed are her lips (obviously), her forehead and the tip of her nose. She also loves doing kunik (a traditional inuit kiss where you nuzzle your noses together), some of her family members are inuit and she grew up doing that a lot to show affection to them. Its a really personal thing for her and he adores it

Curly loves being kissed on the cheeks and shoulders, the ladder being deeply intimate for him.

They love cuddling in the morning and kissing even with morning breath

Curly specifically uses beard oils that have her favorite scents, mostly argan oil

Curly got into photography as a hobby and loves having anya as his muse. He takes candid pics of her in the mornings but also has her dress up and pose for him sometimes

Anya has POTS, a cardiac disorder that causes you to faint as well as episodes of intense fatigue. Curly is well trained to help her with it thanks to her tutoring. And yes he has caught her from falling mid faint numerous times.

She secretly adores when he catches her, it never fails to give her some butterflies when she wakes up in his arms

They like doing what they call "check-ins" with each other when theyre in public where one person will grab the others hand and ask "whats your color?" Green means perfectly fine, yellow means they need to decompress or discuss something privately, and red means they need to leave that environment now. They do this mostly cus anya is chronically ill as stated before and curly has depression and can get easily overwhelmed in loud environments like supermarkets

Ansuke

Anya is 32 and daisuke is 23 and they like to joke that anya is a cougar

Daisuke has been in a relationship before but anya hasnt

Theyre both living autism vocal stim compilations

They have to echo each other whenever one does a vocal stim, their favorites are just meowing at each other, the walter white confession tape, jesse pinkmans voicemail from season 1, the gas station sushi monologue, "dancing, walking, rearranging furniture", the some of main chorus to Closer by nine inch nails, among a myriad of other stims

Daisuke plays guitar a lot and he LOVES singing, but he especially loves singing with anya. Its not just a fun silly thing like it is with curlya, they take it seriously as their own unique bonding ritual

Daisuke loves anyas voice so much and he will literally beg her to sing for him, though most of the time he doesnt have to

He likes making his own music and has her sing for them regularly. Her voice range is very similar to ethel cain and amy winehouse.

His favorite song for her to sing is punish by ethel cain

They love singing mostly folk punk and indie stuff

He also knows how to play the khaen and its become her favorite instrument because of him, shell just listen to him play it and look at him with stars in her eyes

Theyre both very physically affectionate even in public, walking around holding hands or daisuke playfully having his arm around her shoulder, they dont hide their affection and they wear their smiles proudly

Anya is actually taller than daisuke, shes 5'10 and hes 5'7 and he loves to joke that he has a titan for a girlfriend

Daisukes ex was, in his words, a textbook evil twink. He obviously doesnt talk about them a lot but anya likes making jokes about how his ex is gonna call him a class traitor for being straight presenting if they ever learn about anya being his girlfriend

Daisuke is pansexual and anya is bisexual and demi. Daisuke also identifies as gender nonconforming and uses any pronouns, people mostly just use he/they for him tho, but he loves when people switch it up

As for their sex lives, anya and him are pretty sexually active, but for daisuke sex is actually very intimate and personal to him. He feels incredibly vulnerable when he wants to make love so theyre a lot more tender and gentle with each other.

He has cried on more than one occasion from sheer joy at being able to share himself with anya and she adores how emotional he gets about intimacy

After the tulpar daisuke starts going to the gym a lot and actually builds up some good muscle mass, developing a serious sleeper build (much to anyas chagrin)

Anya gets into dancing as a hobby and loves teaching daisuke what she learns

They love playing with each others hair and dyeing them together

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winterspiderpurrs · 13 hours ago

Text

Happy never forgets a face. Never. It's what makes him extra valuable to someone like Tony Stark. Tony Stark, who runs Stark Industries. Tony Stark, who is head of the Carbonell Italian mob; though, while there is some speculation, it's never been proven.

Happy had a system. He categorized people into color groups.

Green for these people are no bodies and didn’t touch the crime world and were safe to interact with.

Yellow for people who are some bodies but won't cauae trouble but have connections.

Red are people who have connections and could cause trouble.

Then their were Black. Those are the unknowns, and they could be as bad as the reds. People a little too clean. Or people who maybe could be someone undercover. Not enough information on them.

Before every convention, Happy makes a point to do background checks on everyone. He memorized all the photos of the people attending. Sure, maybe Friday helps break into the databases to get the photos, but he is just trying to protect Tony.

So when Happy saw Tony talking to someone, he was already going through the catalog in his mind to place the person. Catching Tony's eye, he touched his black tie to silently signal the group the person falls in. Doesn’t mean it's gonna stop Tony, but it just means he is gonna be a bit more cautious. Hopefully.

Peter Parker. 20 years old. Just finished with his masters at Columbia University in Biochemical Engineering. Mother was a scientist as well. Mary Fitzpatrick. Irish. No father listed on the birth certificate. She married another scientist 4 years later, Richard Parker. Both deceased. Plane crash. Italian Aunt and Uncle raised him. Uncle died later. Shot at a Bodega. Not their area, so not tied to them. Trained as a gymnast. Big brown eyes, wavy brown curls. Smart. Cute. Flexible. Just Tony's type.

But something nags at Happy as he watches Tony and Peter talk.

He glances around the room when he spots them.

The Winter Soldier leaned against a wall, looking around the room on the left side, looking a little too casual. At the refreshment table section was The Captain. He worked for the government but has ties to the Irish mob, though, like Tony. Couldn't be proven. He was staring at Peter and Tony with a frown, not subtle at all.

Then it hits. See, there were rumors that The Captain had a kid. Had them young before he was involved with potential mob connections. And he recalls another rumor going around that there was a small riff between The Captain and The Winter Soldier, a love interest that was not approved.

He has to get Tony away from this Peter Parker.

Peter Parker, who potentially could be the kid of The Captain Steve Grant Rogers.

Peter Parker, who potentially could be the love interest of The Winter Soldier James Buchanan Barnes

#writing prompt #world building #if someone wants to expand on it #imagine Steve hooking up with Mary as a teen. between 15 to 18. steve wants to do the right thing but she wouldn't have it #so if peter is 20 that makes Bucky around the age of 35 to 38. so a stretch but not BAD #peter was not raised by Steve or even around Bucky - steve just gave cash and occasionally checked on peter #i like the idea of Peter and Bucky meeting organically cause while sure Bucky knew Steve had a kid he never met him #i just think it would be funny to have bucky bring his date Peter to met his friend and steve looses it #could make it go winterironspider #winterspider #peter parker x bucky barnes #starker #winterironspider #peter x tony x bucky #steve rogers is peter parkers dad #winterspiderpurrs #mob au

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jainydoe · 1 day ago

Text

Simulacrum: Bird-Man meets Delinquent

a/n: finally finished the johanna/emmrich fic lmao i'm fucking exhausted.

Click here to read on ao3!

Summary:

She's destined for greatness and he's destined for goodness. Or, a study of what Johanna and Emmrich's relationship may have looked like in their youth.

Things are just like they were before, except this time she doesn’t have her room with her things that are hers and instead has a roommate ( Eve ) with medical-grade dandruff who farts in her sleep. She believes college is the time she’ll truly make the leap towards murder in the first degree. Father would be proud. Especially with her creativity. She’d spend the semester collecting every snowflake and fleck of dried scalp shaken and blown through their “shared space” and she’d stuff them in a bag. Something cheap and suffocating, like whatever fabric Eve chafes her fat snatch with. She’d pull it tight over her sleeping head, ignoring as she nervously passes gas through her slow and burning death. And once her thin, clammy, freezing limbs just finally gave up and kicked it, she would shake the bits all over her, a real earthy type of parmesan, some final seasoning, and see if the stench of her reeking corpse would outmatch the scent of her pre-mortem. And if anyone asked about precious Eve, she’d say she was well-done. Finally ready. A treat to live with.

Father had warned that she’d have to keep her head down at the academy. Curls tight. Legs tighter. Before he was sent away, he’d spend each morning braiding her hair. Doing his best to separate her nest into three, thick, barely even but enough to go on strands, reminding her to keep it together. Be the eye in the storm. No one likes a messy girl who laughs too loud and plays too rough. It’s the first day of classes and he’s been gone for years, but she braids a tiny little strand by the nape of her neck for him. A reminder. A bridle. Something to tug when she feels like sticking out a leg and seeing how hard the mighty among her can fall. And there are those that are mighty among her. Eight a.m. Introductory Anatomy proves that. She recognizes faces from galas. Debutante balls. Girls and boys she hasn’t seen since the patriarch’s imprisonment - weirdly around the time the invitations stopped rolling in. She knows they recognize her. The Hezenkoss’ kin. At the first pair of pretty blue eyes staring her way, beginning a whisper, she wants to jam her thumbs into her retinas, scooping the back and sucking on the jammy residue, daring any and everyone to try their hand at Johanne’s only and greatest spawn. She thinks the way her lip must curl does the trick. Blue Eyes looks away, focused on her quill. Good. Be afraid. Be weakened. Be nothing.

Someone, however, does not avert their gaze. He’s a prick, naturally, for being so tall and choosing one of the two seats available in the front row. It almost makes her laugh, the way he’s folded himself into this writing desk. Like a dodo bird in a fish bowl. What doesn’t make her laugh is how bird-like he truly is. His gaze isn’t accusatory, or clouded by anything other than true, unadulterated interest. A goodie two-shoes, of course. Virgin, no doubt. This place will eat him alive, if he doesn’t self-cannibalize first. There’s only one seat left and it’s next to him. Naturally. She’s not even late but these people are awful, arriving fifteen minutes ahead of schedule to get their perfect seating for their perfect rumps, all to support their perfect report cards. It’s day one and she’s gonna self-cannibalize. Bird-Man extends a hand.

“Emmrich Volkarin.”

She nods. “Johanna.”

“That’s a lovely name. Cherubic.”

That makes her turn her head. “Are you trying to fuck me?”

“What?”

“Why would you say that unless you were?”

“Um, I was trying to be-”

“What?” She smiles at him. She knows how her smile looks. Especially when she widens her eyes. Something possessed. Something manic. Red alert. Danger. Evacuate now.

He may be uncomfortable, but he’s not frightened. Interesting. “Kind.” He opens his satchel, pulling out a scroll of parchment as their professor meanders into the classroom. “You looked like you could use some kindness.”

It turns out people are not kind to one Emmrich Volkarin. Not in the way he is. He offers girls spare quills and whispers answers to confused faces during exams. He beams in that vacant way and ignores the returned whispers about his battered uniform - used. When they get more cruel, though, in the way he should’ve expected after flaunting how much he pre-studied and pre-prepared and pre-became teacher’s pet, all in a room of try-hards and daddy-issues - he should’ve expected it but clearly didn’t and she watches this veneer of niceness crackle into desperation and it’s delicious. It’s gut wrenching. It makes her actually feel. Watching him swallow during the midterm, blinking back tears at a comment on how he’s probably blowing Professor Welch and sucking out all the knowledge he has to offer. Maybe she’s been looking for an excuse. But more than that, she’s looking for a friend. She might find one in the boy who’s kind and unafraid. Stupid in that way. But smart in the ways that are useful. She turns to the whisper, rises from her front-of-the-room chair and kicks her in the nose. A jackrabbit heel to her carefully-bred nose, and it’s bleeding out beautifully. This is a lesson in anatomy. Take notes. She grabs the girl’s hair, red and whorish, and promises she’ll revive her corpse one day and bring it to her family’s estate. Show them even princesses can mold and rot. Professor Welch is yanking her out of class before she can finish the job, but she’s ripped out some strands of that bloody red hair. Decides to keep it as a trophy. No. She’ll give it to the boy. Something nice to remember her by. She’ll be expelled for this, if not thrown into some cell for a while. Good riddance. College was for posers and idiots. People who needed the comfort of a cage. Those kinds of animals terrified her. Terrified Dad, too. Probably why he did what he did. And now look, a creature-caged, blah blah blah, the metaphor is an eye roll. It’s not something she thinks about much.

She’s waiting outside the dean’s office for over an hour when he comes running from the end of the corridor. His legs are too long and his spirit is too free. He ought to braid his hair. Even just a strand. He’s taking deep breaths by the time he gets to her, but she doubts it’s from the run.

“Why’d you attack Veronica?”

“She’s a cunt, why else?”

He places his bag on the ground, gently, (the tattered, used, ugly one) and takes a careful seat on the bench next to her. “There are plenty of those. Why this one?”

She snorts. “That may be the rudest thing I’ve ever heard you say.” The small grin that blooms on him is befitting. Secretive and minacious. “Veronica’s a twit. She’d make a better final rites assistant than Mourn Watcher.”

“It takes a special heart to assist final rites.” They sit in silence. Then he whispers, “She’s better off just moving to Orlais . Better fit for her, uh, particular intellect.”

She feels like she’s glittering. “Why’d you come here, Volkarin?”

He looks at her. Eyes green and grey and a little bit sad. Dry moss that makes his hair all the more pitch and skin all the more pearly-moondrop. He really is quite pretty. Like roadkill. Like a wilting lily. Like something preserved just for her. “What you did was awful. Truly. I’ll never get the image or the sounds of that poor girl screaming out of my head.” He grins. “Thanks.” With that, he grabs his bag and leaves, tossing a final wave over his shoulder. If nothing else, she’s glad she got the few weeks of this place for him. To watch this loser blossom into someone crackling with energy. Primed. Understanding that everyone around is wishing for his downfall and he doesn’t have to stand for it. In that moment, they are equals. They are alike. Replicas. She’s buzzing and wants to ruin Veronica all over again. Just so he can smile at her like that.

“Miss Hezenkoss?”

The dean is a fat bastard, sure, but he’s also a fat cat who doesn’t much care for the aristocracy. Maybe it’s why he offers her a lemon cookie and asks how her father’s doing. “You’d have to ask him. I hear the guards at Aeonar are quite hospitable.”

At that, his face softens. “You haven’t visited?”

“Grandmother wasn’t too keen on the prospect.”

“Speaking of, you know I’ll have to tell her about your little outburst , yes?”

“Yup.”

“And while I’m sure she’ll offer to donate a wing to your dormitory or open up some sort of scholarship for wayward girls, I’m wondering what you’ll do for the college.”

She can bullshit an answer. Doesn’t want to. But figures somewhere between a lie and uncaring jab rests the truth. “I’ll make friends and be great one day.”

“Some might consider those opposing ideals. Which matters more to you?”

She doesn’t see Dean Merriweather anymore. She sees her father. Collar stained with blood she can’t recall the source of and eyes cold and deep with mysteries she knows she’ll never solve. Never wants to. Never hopes to. She answers for him. “Greatness, of course.”

“Good.”

She’s required to get a campus job (to Help Out!) and see the school therapist biweekly. The good news is once Eve’s Mama and Papa heard their baby angel sweetie-pie was rooming with a delinquent, they had her transferred to an apartment off-campus for her wellbeing and mental health. Good thing, too. Johanna had finally found the perfect, chafing bag.

The second half of the semester means lab work and no one’s gonna partner with Little Miss Anger Management. Or with her new pet. She’s surprised that A) they let her back in the class and B) Volkarin isn’t nearly as put off by the whole ordeal as he should be. If anything, he welcomes her to their table with a touch of warmth that wasn’t there before. He gives her a quill. She says she has one.

“That one’s just for you. Consider it a token of my gratitude.” It’s red. A griffon feather. She knows he can’t afford it. Shouldn’t be able to. Not on a campus job salary. “I got it as payment for a tutoring session to some upper-crust teenager. You don’t need to look so surprised.”

At that, she’s almost flustered. But not as much as he is. “Thank you.”

He ruffles in pride and hands her a scalpel. “Fifty silver we get to the corpus callosum before the other teams.”

She looks at him, toothy and primed, itching to slice. This will always be him. She knows it. It’s an envy that stretches in her throat, choking. She doesn’t think she’ll ever feel as much joy in her life as he does in a passing minute. She hates him for it. She admires him for it. But she mostly just hates him. “Fifty silver Donovan confuses the frontal lobe for the cerebellum.” His laugh is ugly, which is a relief. She won’t acknowledge he’s handsome in this light. The ash-struck age of his canvas scrubs, buttoned along the shoulders in a flattering taper, make him all the more saturated. And his leathers, worn and used but oiled and cared for were exemplary of his character. Someone who gave a shit, no matter the condition or circumstances. She looked down at her boots, scuffed and muddied, the ink splotches along her cuffs, and refused to admit he made her doubtful. On edge. Electric. They finish the lab before the rest of the class and he asks her if she wants to study in the library. He knows a spot that no one ever visits.

“Are you trying to fuck me?”

This time, he doesn’t answer.

Spring break used to mean tagging along on business trips to Orlais. Sipping teenie coffees on a rooftop in Treviso. Making eyes at some Crow initiate who didn’t know what he was getting himself into. She’d come back to campus refreshed and jazzed, wearing something new and hot and ready to regale some of the girls in class about the Mysterious Marco and his casino exploits. His fast hands. His faster sprint. His endurance. His stamina. His accent. His inheritance. How it felt fucking on a bed of poker chips. This year she’s on campus and suicidal.

“Of course you’re still here.” There are worse jobs than being a lab tech. Cleaning flasks and updating logs is mindless work, but some poor bastard has to clean dishes, so. She doesn’t complain as much as she wants. She should’ve been more surprised to stroll into her shift on Monday morning to find Volkarin posted in front of something bubbling, the room faintly filling with the stench of sulfur and mead.

“Johanna! Hello! I’m a bit shocked you’re not away for the holiday.” He’s happy to see her. He doesn’t think to hide that sort of thing. She turns before he can see her grin, but she’s sure he can sense it. Like he has some barometer for joy. Perhaps they sell them in those discount stores with the cheap pottery and pilling sweaters. Does he like that sort of thing? Would he want to go with her and laugh at the kind of crap people accumulate? Pick out something hideous for each other and point at the peons who actually think they look good? No. He wouldn’t laugh. Probably. But there’s a part of him that would enjoy it. Being able to look down, for a change. She switches gears. “Have you ever even been on a proper holiday, Volkarin?”

He crosses his arms and leans back, as if thinking about it will change the answer. “Afraid not. But I’ve always wanted to visit far off places. Arlathan. Or Tevinter, maybe!”

“Dream bigger.” She makes a show of dropping the test tube she was about to clean, pointing a bony finger at his chest. “You and I are going out. Come along.”

“My reagent hasn’t catalyzed the reaction yet. I still have way too much substrate.”

“It’s never gonna react, idiot. Elfroot’s a base, not an acid. We’re losing daylight.”

She yanks his elbow and enjoys how his barstool goes clattering. He doesn’t resist even a bit or at all. He’s a damsel. A petal in the wind. Hers to catch and squish for preservation. She has an inward giggle over the scene they’ve left, shattered glass and abandoned experiments. Crime-like. Not that there will be anyone to solve their mystery. They’d never quite get it, anyhow.

It’s no Treviso, but it’ll do. He’s not used to what good coffee is supposed to taste like and it shows. “This is delicious! I didn’t know coffee could be thick like this. Even when I’ve tried making something new in the dining hall, it never quite ends up this tasty! Do you usually take it with cream?”

There’s a bit of it clinging to a patch of facial hair he didn’t quite catch while shaving. “No. I don’t. But you’re not used to espresso, so we’re starting you off with a variation on a hot chocolate.”

“Is that what this is?”

“You’re quicker than they give you credit for.”

He smiles down at his drink, thumb grazing the rim. “I should hope. I’d hate to disappoint.”

“I’m sure.” She takes the moment to lean in, placing a hand on the crook of his elbow. He’s delightfully surprised yet un-blushed. “Be honest. Are you really as much of a wide-eyed lamb as you pretend to be?”

He considers her, then rolls his gaze to their right, eyes landing on a barista with rusty hair and charming pimples. The kind you can pull off when you’re that handsome. Red feels the stare and looks up, completely missing Johanna and locked on Emmrich with something that says My-shift-ends-at-five-but-I-can-get-off-sooner-if-it-means-getting-you-off. In a display of casual disinterest, he waves a few fingers then turns back to Johanna, letting the boy linger in their missed opportunity. “I’m no scoundrel. Yet.” He looks at her lips. Determined. Unafraid. Resigned. Hopeful. Bated. “But someday I will be.” There’s no sun, not really, in Nevarra. But she pretends there is. It’s easy with him. Their day is spent reclined and lively, trading secrets and tips and theories and recommendations, all under the guise of scholarly advancement. The next morning, when he arrives at his lab station, there’s a black box with a big, green bow tied tightly. Inside is a straight razor and some imported shaving cream. Best start practicing now for your scoundrel years.

“The mustache suits you.”

He touches a hand to it. “You think so?”

“Oh, yes. Gives you a foxy grin. Very fetching.” Her shift is over and she’s leaned over his cauldron, warm and damp from the berry steam.

He takes a step further. “Your hair looks nice. Up.” He says it like it’s an unfortunate fact of the matter. Which is true. She knows he wants her. It’s not a secret. But this will be. She grabs the back of his head, curls her talons into the silk of his hair and sinks into him, teeth unyielding and tongue unforgiving. His breath is soft and high pitched. As if he’d never done this before.

“That wasn’t your first kiss, was it?”

“No.”

“You’re not a virgin, are you?”

“N-” he looks away quickly. She’s quicker.

“You’re a bad liar.”

“I’ve read a lot.”

“Shocking.”

“I know what to do.”

“Impressive.”

“You could try believing me.”

“I’ll believe it when I see it.” Her eyes widen as he hoists her onto the tabletop, hands on her thighs. He wears a ring on his marriage finger. Delusionally. “Do you really want your first time to be in this fucking laboratory?”

“What, are you gonna take me on a bed of roses? Light me any candles?” It’s almost spiteful when he says it, but she’s comforted by the fact he knows her well enough.

“This is me doing you a solid. As a friend.”

He smiles as he lowers onto his stool, beginning to unzip her trousers. “Good. I’d hate for you to get the wrong idea.” His breath is hot on her as he kisses the striped cotton of her underwear. They’re unsexy but clean. Comfortable and worn. He looks at them as if they were glowing. Closes his eyes as he leans forward to kiss them. She doesn’t let herself breathe in the underlying fear she’d let on how very much she’d been looking forward to this. Perhaps her stilled breath is proof enough. Things get hotter and wetter without the help of the steaming potion he’s cast a stasis on. She asks, mid-moan, “How’d you figure out that charm? Keeping the sample perfect?”

He looks up from between her, rosy. “I’d tell you, but I’m already doing you a favor.”

He doesn’t fuck her that afternoon. Instead, he leans over her as she’s breathless and seeing black stars and whispers the incantation he discovered. He doesn’t help her clean up. She can see he debates it, though. She watches as their eyes meet and something within him hardens. Knowing she’d think less of him for offering a moment of warmth. So he grins that grin, says thanks and tosses a wave over his shoulder. Cheeky. Tempting. It’s the moment she realizes she might not have the upper hand.

“What do you want more than anything?”

“To join the Mourn Watch.”

“Boring.”

He huffs a laugh, staring up at her. He’s made a home of her lap, resting his head there whenever allowed. A lap cat, demanding and too easy to oblige. She combs his hair and runs a finger up the bridge of his nose, tracking its ridges and path. Mapping. “If I tell you a secret, can you keep it?”

“Who have I to tell,” she asks, earnestly.

At that, he rolls up and is preening, pulling a pin from his inner coat pocket. “The Lich Society sent me a letter.” He lets her hold it, clearly itching to snatch it back and stare at it, himself. “Apparently they’ve never reached out to a first year, before.”

“We’re basically second years.”

“Doesn’t matter. I’m the youngest ever. I think the Wyvern Club caught wind. Van Markham actually stopped me in the dining hall to compliment my cufflinks. ” Cufflinks she bought him. “Isn’t that incredible?”

“I bought you those cufflinks.”

His grin grows warmer. “Thank you, again.” He lays back on her lap, looking up at her with shimmer eyes and an aching brow. “If I joined the Wyverns, would you come, too? I could have a word with Reese.”

“Oh, it’s Reese now, is it?”

“Well, Van Markham’s a bit of a mouthful.”

“You’re not even in the club, isn’t it a little gauche to be vying for my entry?”

He’s uncomfortable and embarrassed, judging by how quickly his complexion rouges, but he holds her gaze. “I just.” He doesn’t lift his head. That feels significant. “Things are only. Things are.” There’s something ooey-gooey tight and great at the top of her chest at the way he grasps and fumbles, words slipping out of his grasp before he can finish his thought. Mr. Wyvern Lich Club Wunderkind, a fool at her feet. She kisses the tips of her fingers, the index and middle, a wonderful mirror of them both. He, pointing, examining, useful, an “in-fact” sort of guy, and her. Abrasive and fucking. Bigger. She kisses them both and lays them on his lips, lets her fingers run along his chapped, fleshy pink. “Things aren’t enjoyable without you. Life isn’t fun.”

It’s enough to make her cough out a smile. She won’t join the Wyvern Club. It’s a playpen for the docile elite. Those that relish in the comfortability of their station, no interest in becoming more. For that , she’ll reach a hand into his shirt pocket, thumbing the pin from the Lich Society.

“You tell the mysterious bone people I’ll be in-touch.”

He’s sated and hungry all at once. They rest easy in the understanding they will always be identical.

He gets an invitation to the Wyvern Club’s Summer Pudding Social and he takes Johanna. She parks herself in a chaise by the pool and ignores the way Missy and Toddy and Quinn whisper amongst themselves about her summer in rehab.

Her winter in the hospital.

Her lifetime of institutions awaiting.

She sips her champagne and whispers a curse, something that’ll take effect next time Missy bleeds. And it won’t stop. She won’t die. But she’ll wish she could. And Quinn. Poor Quinn with her poor grandmother, dead and buried. It’ll be a shame when she starts seeing her everywhere. Maybe she’ll drop out. Maybe she’ll go insane and start smearing shit on her vanity. Maybe Johanna will see her in the winter. She doesn’t curse Toddy. Toddy’s cursed enough, with that nose. She feels a hand on her shoulder.

“Are you having an alright time?” He’s wearing a new ring. It fits, perfectly.

“Swimming.”

“I told Reese and the others about your work in Holt’s class this semester. They said they’d love to hear more about it in the smoking room later, if you’re interested?”

It’s impressive of him. To turn a leper, like her, into someone mysterious. A mad genius, she’s sure he’s painted her. A girl too focused on her craft to care about things like smiling and white lies. She wishes she were her, if just to let him fantasize a bit longer. Instead, she puts on a sad grin, peering up through her sunnies and shaking her glass. “I’m afraid I’m already engaged. I need to see how many of these it takes before I can stand these people.” She gives in. “Maybe another time.”

He pretends she’s telling the truth and kisses her cheek. “Don’t meddle too much with the other dates. If anyone at this party is bald within the week, I’m holding you personally responsible.” She laughs as he walks away, motioning that he’s keeping his eyes on her. She makes him look dangerous and sweet all at once. Gentle enough to tame the snarling beast of her moods, but there’s something in there wild that can speak her language. She makes him roguish. She makes him ready. He keeps her sedated.

He laughs when he says it, but is hurt all the same. “You don’t need to mock me, you know. It’s actually hurtful when you do. I know you think you’re being funny, but-”

“I’m not mocking you.”

His eyebrows lower but he’s twitching. “You mean. You mean you actually wanted this? To do this.”

“I thought the roses and candles conveyed the message pretty clearly.”

He’s not twitching anymore. “You didn’t have to. It-” He stares at the ceiling. “It would’ve been special, either way. Without the dramatics.”

She knows that. But tonight, she’s made a pact with herself. As an exercise, she’ll be a vision. An angel. His wide-eyed lamb. “I want you to feel special.” It’s true. Because he may one day be a lich. His name will live on without her. But in him, in this memory, a playful, spiteful, hateful and adoring version of his dreams, she will be immortalized. Johanna Hezenkoss, the Woman to Take Down Emmrich Volkarin. She bottles up every second of the evening. His moonlit chest. The hands covering his face as his voice rips apart her name. His thighs are shaking and he’s smelling her hair and neck. He tells her how madly he loves her. How he always will. He holds her hand when he comes. She grips it right back. She’s the one who doesn’t let go.

They join the Mourn Watch and he proposes. She tells him to wear the ring in her stead. But they kiss in the mausoleum and it’s symbolic.

She’s not invited to Friday night drinks or Saturday night cocktail parties. It gives her more time to work and gives him enough space to schmooze. She doesn’t think of it for what it really is: his time to stretch his legs and her opportunity to play years of catch-up.

When he’s promoted, there are gaggles rubbing elbows, grasping for flecks of glitter-gold to sprinkle from his laugh onto their cheeks. Something that’ll better them. Cure the their chronic ineptitude. When she’s promoted, they spell her name wrong on her office door.

Her father dies the same year she’s fired. There’s no correlation.

“So you’ll have me follow you into things, but won’t leave with me when I’m not wanted anymore?”

It’s four in the morning and they’ve been having this argument since sundown. His head is in his hands and she’s ripping him apart. “I told you countless times your proposal was gonna get refused. When you started the experiments, I reminded you of our protocols. You stopped toeing the line a long time ago. So long you’re at an entirely different one.”

“Are you gonna say the finish line?”

“I wasn’t.”

“‘Cause you’d be wrong.” She tears her hair from its ties, bunching it up again and pacing. “This is just the beginning. I’m not gonna let some turnkeys decide my fate.”

“You sound like your father.”

The air is stale and silent. He dodges the plaque she’s thrown just barely. It’s his award for being an exceptional Watcher. She’ll let herself appreciate that it broke later. “You’re just like the rest of them. Satisfied with your mediocrity. Undaring and too caring. I can’t fucking stew in this, this nest any more. I’m gonna, I’m,” there’s not enough air in the room and it’s his fault. “You’re not gonna come with me, are you.”

His eyes are wide and there are tear tracks. “Go where, honey? Where do you want me to go?”

He doesn’t understand and that’s what kills her. She tries to remember the last time they held hands. Probably that morning. She takes in every inch of their home, mapping. Memorizing. It’ll be a place she visits when things are awful or wonderful. Somewhere she can close her eyes and be in. And he’ll be there, too. But not him now. Not this titan of industry. Pseudo-trailblazer and eye-rolling prodigy. He’ll sit in this apartment as the boy he was, annoying and green. Eager and meek. When he was hers.

“It can’t be.”

“But what else would one expect from Nevarra’s most eminent meddler?”

She wants to scream that he wouldn’t recognize her from the start. She’ll grab something stifling and take his breath away. Carve him up and kick his nose and sob. But then she notices the harpy on his shoulder and wants to laugh so hard she pukes. It’s like she’s a wisp of Johanna in the beta stage of development, except she’s young and dumb and looks at Emmrich like he’s hung. It’s as amusing as it is hurtful. At least her name is fucking stupid.

She knows a lifetime of him continuing to look down on her from his pedestal should hurt worse than taking over her father's former cell. It's a sick shock to find she's a bit comforted by the way things shake out. Thankfully, there's no one to confide in. Not anymore.

“Nice set up you got here, Volkarin. You really know how to make a place dusty and goddamn kitschy.” She notices the blood red feather on his desk. He must've looted her office. How humiliating, to have one's sentimentality exposed so overtly. She's sure he did it on purpose. Makes it easier to remember falling in love with him. To picture this man in that apartment when they were young. How things might've changed. He still lives there, you know. She checked. He's always been a sucker for a tomb.

“That’s funny, coming from the woman who just had to have that toad teapot from that market by the Rivaini coast.”

“You loved that teapot.”

His arms are crossed and he’s on the opposite side of the room, by the fire. When he crosses to her, he whispers, “I still have that teapot.”

She tries not to let herself care about that. “Really? You’re telling me you don’t have some Orlesian porcelain in whatever stuffed up hole you drag yourself back to after hours of puffing yourself up for your pupils? That’s right, I know you have pupils now. Pervert.”

“Of course I have Orlesian porcelain.” His shoulders are tense and he’s staring at his shoes. He’s so much older and so much wiser. It’s awful. “I still use the shaving kit you gave me. Every day.”

His girl bursts in and the moment is gone. But it was there. Watching their burgeoning courtship is a price paid every waking moment. She’s a jungle cat who was always bound to be shot, caged and stared at for the wonder of her vanquishment. She learns, now, the poacher’s name turned out to be Rook. But Emmrich - he’s a bird who will always fly back in. Able to leave wherever and whenever. A songbird tweeting, his nest balancing on the bars of her cell. He looks at Rook, toothy and primed, and the joy of it chokes Johanna's throat. She’s sure she’ll find Rook an absolute treat to live with. She wonders if Emmrich will thank her on the day she splits the bitch in two. Maybe, then, they’ll be on the same page again. Some part of him must want it, after all. They’re replicas.

#emmrich volkarin #johanna hezenkoss #minor emmrook

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lazysoulwriter · 5 hours ago

Text

Through Tipsy Eyes - Harry Styles.

The living room was dimly lit, the fairy lights you insisted on keeping year-round casting a soft glow across the room. A bowl of popcorn sat half-forgotten on the coffee table, flanked by two glasses—yours still half-full, Harry’s empty. You glanced over at him sprawled across the couch, cheeks flushed, curls a mess, and an undeniably goofy grin plastered across his face. He was drunk. Very drunk.

“Y/N,” he drawled, voice low and rasping in that way that made your skin tingle. “Y/N, d’you even know how beautiful you are?”

You snorted, pulling the blanket further over your legs. “Harry, you’ve told me that about ten times in the last five minutes.”

“Well,” he paused, hiccuping, “it’s true. You’re… you’re so beautiful I can’t… I can’t even…” He flailed his hands dramatically before letting them fall back to his chest. “You’re, like, annoyingly beautiful. How’s a man supposed to cope?”

“By not drinking four margaritas back-to-back, maybe?” you teased, leaning over to poke his cheek. He caught your hand and held it against his face, nuzzling into your palm like a cat.

“’M not even that drunk,” he protested, though the slight slur in his words begged to differ.

“Oh, really?” you replied, raising an eyebrow. “Because you’ve been laying there for ten minutes, staring at me like I’m the love of your life.”

“You are the love of my life,” he said immediately, eyes wide with drunken sincerity. “I’d fight anyone who said otherwise. Actually, I’d fight everyone. All of them. Line ’em up.”

You burst out laughing, and Harry pouted. “Don’t laugh at me,” he whined. “I’m trying to be romantic.”

“I know you are,” you said, still giggling as you leaned over to kiss his forehead. “And it’s very sweet, H. But maybe save the declarations of war for when you’re sober, yeah?”

He hummed, seemingly pacified, and then his eyes lit up with a mischievous gleam. “You’re so lucky to have me,” he said, grinning like a child who’d just discovered a secret. “I’m… what do the kids say these days? A catch.”

You rolled your eyes but played along. “Oh, absolutely. The biggest catch. What would I do without you?”

“Probably date some boring guy your age,” he teased, sticking his tongue out at you.

“Harry, you’re only four years older than me,” you shot back. “You make it sound like there’s some massive age gap.”

“Four years is a lot!” he insisted, sitting up slightly and gesturing wildly. “When I was four, you weren’t even born yet. That’s wild.”

“Oh, stop,” you said, throwing a pillow at him. He caught it with a triumphant grin.

“…But seriously, Y/N,” he said, voice dropping to that husky tone that made your heart stutter. “You’re… you’re everything. Did you know that?”

You felt your cheeks warm under his gaze. “You’re just saying that because you’re drunk.”

“No,” he said firmly, sitting up fully now, though the movement made him wobble slightly. “I mean it. I’ve never been so sure of anything in my life.”

Before you could respond, he reached out and pulled you into his lap, wrapping his arms around you tightly. He rested his chin on your shoulder, and you could feel his breath against your neck, warm and slightly unsteady.

“I love you,” he mumbled, so soft you almost didn’t hear it.

Your heart swelled, and you tilted your head to press a kiss to his temple. “I love you too, H.”

He pulled back just enough to look at you, his green eyes shining with a mix of affection and mischief. “Do you think we’ll be one of those couples everyone’s jealous of? You know, like, disgustingly in love?”

“We already are,” you said with a laugh, brushing a curl away from his forehead.

“Good,” he said, nodding decisively. “’Cause I’m never letting you go. Ever.”

You smiled, your fingers tracing patterns on the back of his neck. “You’re such a sap when you’re drunk.”

“’M always a sap,” he admitted with a grin. “But you love it.”

“Maybe I do,” you said, your voice soft.

He leaned in closer, his nose brushing against yours. “…Do you think you could feed me?”

You blinked, confused. “Feed you? Harry, there’s popcorn right there.”

He shook his head, a sly smile curving his lips. “Not popcorn, love. You know what I mean.”

It took a moment for his words to register, and when they did, your eyes widened. “Harry!”

“C’mon,” he said, his grin turning cheeky. “If I’m your baby like you always say, doesn’t that mean I should… y’know, be fed properly?”

Your jaw dropped, and he laughed at your reaction, his head falling back against the couch. “I’m just kidding! Sort of.”

You narrowed your eyes, leaning in until your faces were inches apart. “You’re unbelievable.”

“And yet, you love me,” he murmured, his voice dropping to a sultry tone that sent a shiver down your spine.

“Unfortunately,” you quipped, but the teasing edge in your voice was soft.

Before he could say anything else, you pressed your lips to his, cutting off his cheeky remarks. His hands found your waist, pulling you impossibly closer as the kiss deepened. When you pulled back slightly, your foreheads still touching, you smirked, already feeling his hands on your boobs.

“Permission granted,” you whispered.

His eyes lit up, his grin somehow managing to be both playful and adoring. “I knew you couldn’t resist me.”

“You’re lucky I love you,” you replied, pressing one last kiss to his lips before settling against his chest.

Drunk Harry might be cheeky, but he was your cheeky, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

#harry styles #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfics #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles imagines #harry styles imagine #harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #harry styles fic #harry style one shot

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gamerbot-22 · 2 days ago

Note

Whenever you have time, and of course if you’re comfortable, I’d love to hear some yandere headcanons for Trigun characters!

And if you want my help 👁️👄👁️ you know where to find me

Oooo this is so exciting! I had my first time writing Intentional Tsundere a little while ago, and now we got Baby's First Yandere Rodeo!

Trigun Characters as Yanderes

TW/CWs: Yandere (but you knew that already <3), mentions of stalking, no explicit details about any damage done to "the competition,” maybe a bit OOC but fuck it this is the space we ball in, Nai talks some shit in a backhanded compliment way, written with no specific versions of these characters in mind, barely proofread but I appreciate spellchecks!

Characters included: Vash the Stampede, Nicholas D. Wolfwood, Millions Knives/Nai

A/N: Please let me know if this is any good! I've been spinning the yandere concept in my mind for a good while, being someone who already adores a protective LI, but I've never actually kicked back and played in the space outside of a few concepts with you lol. And I feel very clever for using a GIF of flowers in a vase for this instead of a field to highlight the possessive/protectiveness of our lovely subjects towards their Darling <3 Also, I have some suggested listening for this post, if you so choose :3c

Likes and Reblogs appreciated, Requests are Open, and it’s all under the cut!

The dividers in this post were made by @/strangergraphics ☆

🥀 Vash the Stampede

Oh honey. Oh baby. The clingiest yandere out there. Like you’re never more than a couple feet away from each other at all times.

And I do mean all times. Vash likes keeping tabs on his Mayfly. I do think he tries to be like… “polite” about the stalking keeping tabs, but however you slice it it’s still an invasion.

Like you’ll think you’ve said goodbye for the night and will go to sleep on your own but he’s already in the process of scaling the nearest building so he can watch you through the window.

You’re just so cute and he knows you aren’t going to be around forever so he wants to make the most of the time you do have. Ain’t that sweet?

He still holds to his no-killing rule and generally tries not to hurt anyone, but oh god, does he feel like it sometimes.

Like if you’re traveling with him and you catch a stray? Even if it just grazes you or doesn’t hit you at all, there’s a dark part of him that, for the briefest of seconds, considers sending a bullet of his own right back. See how they like it, huh?

But no. He doesn’t give in like that. Besides, if your attacker was dead, there would be no way to spread the word about the Stampede’s Darling, would they? They have to know you’re off limits! That you’re protected! That if anyone comes close to hurting a hair on your precious head again, everyone will know why Vash is called a Stampede.

🍭 Nicholas D. Wolfwood

Okay so Vash is decent at covering for himself. Wolfwood is too but it’s in. A different way?

Vash will fall over himself with excuses. Wolfwood makes it sound like he has a point. And to an extent, he does. He knows better than most just how goddamn dangerous Gunsmoke is if you’re not ready at every single moment to fight for your life. And he’s lost enough.

You don’t get the illusion of privacy here. It’s like you’ve got a leash on him, keeping him at least five feet from you at any given moment.

And he looms over you, regardless of the height difference (The Punisher makes up for it anyways,) staring down anyone who looks at you for even a second too long.

He insists you share rooms when you stay at inns, and if you’re slumming it out in the desert, he’s either in the same tent or has his right next to you all night. He insists on keeping watch, too. Big guard dog energy.

A lot of the danger comes from him, he knows that, but he can make it up to you more than twice over if you’d just let him. He’s good for it. You’ve seen him fight.

Hell, he can be gentle too. He’s not used to it, but he can learn. For you. If you ask. If you’re patient. And you should be, because again, look at all he’s done for you. Because of you.

🔪 Millions Knives/Nai

Oh you’re not allowed to do. Anything. Like even a little bit I don’t think—

Like if we’re gonna play in this space of Nai being a yandere, you look me dead in my fucking eyes and tell me he doesn’t treat you like some china doll he wants to keep perched by his piano at all times.

He pampers you but it’s very much part of like. A flex in a weird way? Like the doll thing is barely a simile, he idolizes you so hard that you best keep your mouth shut for risk of disappointing him.

But don’t you dare think he neglects you. You’re always in finery, and you’ll never want for anything. And if you’re ever bored, he’s more than happy to play you music. And he even has a little shelf of books for you to read!

He talks about how his Darling is almost entirely perfect. You’re the closest thing to an angel a human could possibly be. Your spirit is too divine for your body! If only you weren’t so fragile as to break if he tried to free you.

If anyone so much as looks at you for too long he gets very defensive. His most devoted followers know to avert their gaze, and newcomers learn fast or are never seen again.

Honestly, he should be grateful. Those with wandering eyes… they’ll make good offerings for Good Doctor Conrad’s experiments.

#Rosie Writes #asexual-abomination #Yandere Trigun #Yandere Trigun Headcanons #Yandere Vash the Stampede #Yandere Nicholas D. Wolfwood #Yandere Millions Knives #Yandere Nai #Yandere Vash the Stampede x Reader #Yandere Nicholas D. Wolfwood x Reader #Yandere Millions Knives x Reader #Yandere Nai x Reader #TW: Yandere #TW: Stalking #Yandere #Yandere Headcanons #edit: was told to change some tags around to avoid getting blasted so yeah

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respectthepetty · 3 months ago

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The Loyal Pin - Episode 11

Disclaimer: I'm in a mood! I know after this episode, we only have five episodes left, so I'm upset that we still haven't gotten to the angst, yet I'm pleased to know it won't last long because Anin's servants got her back, and her color-coded brothers are covering up all her mistakes, intentionally and unknowingly.

But Pat and her color are on my shit list!

Why is sis so pressed that her daughter is a lesbian like her?! Pin just doesn't share a lighter color of Pat, but she also shares her love of women. What's so wrong with that?!

Unlike Aon, who can't sort out her color, Pin has been consistent in her color and her love for Anin.

Blue Beauty Anin can't help that everyone wants her, but who can do better than princess? Why isn't Pat proud of Pin?

In a room full of color shenanigans, the girls are consistent, and Anin's older brother, in his loyal blue, has to play the long con just so Pat chills the eff out!

Aon of all people now supports the queer agenda, but Pat, who is basically acting like a queer Republican, is having the wildest reactions to two girls being in love.

I'm going to pray for her because she is doing too much. I need her to take a seat and remember that she would still be with her lady if she didn't die. Death tore them apart! Not society or a nosy meddlesome mother.

Like damn! Quit being a hypocrite.

Let the girls decorate the palace with gold streamers that have little pink and blue dangles on them in peace, Patty!

Then this little twerp shows up in my girl Ueangfah's color, but he ain't in love. He ain't loyal. He ain't real.

And even though he insulted and assaulted Pin, she doesn't want to press charges, so I wished Anin would have punched him since I fully believe as a princess she could have gotten away with it.

But instead we get Pat, who is become redder by the second, demanding Pin, who is wearing a purple skirt and clearly mixing her pink color with her Blue Beauty, accompany her to a "friend's" house. (don't let it be a woman friend, you hypocrite!)

This episode is nothing but trials and tribulations because now my girl has to listen to this man's bullshit knowing full well that he is lying yet she'll have to marry him anyway.

Ueangfajh, convert to Catholicism and become a nun, so you can live your life in peace at a convent. You can make pretty fabrics and hang out with women all day. Catholic convents. That's where the lesbians are. That's where you deserve to be.

Or run away with Aon since she is wearing your color now. I don't like her, but she is showing growth, so I'm willing to give her a chance.

But apparently these two are the only lesbians who are going to be allowed to get a happy color-coded ending, and I'm a little sad that in sixteen episodes, we can't manage to get another gay side couple.

I know babygirl, you deserved to kiss a girl too, but don't worry because this is the third time Idol Factory has denied me a proper secondary lesbian couple in a GL, and I'm salty enough for both of us.

Especially because Pink Person Pin is acting just like her mama, and instead of feeling pity for Ueangfah having to marry a shitty man, she gets upset that Anin didn't beat her while she was down and tell her nobody loves her.

And right on time, Pat enters again getting riled up by the pins in the girls hair. Pin may not be her biological child, but these two are exactly the same. They refuse to support the other lesbians, and they get upset over the most ridiculous mess! Put your eyes back in your head, Patricia!

Honestly, I think the dancer did not get sick but instead saw the color-coded lesbian drama play out the day before and said, "this is above my pay grade."

PICK A COLOR, LIAR!

Pin, quit acting like your mother! Anin only has eyes for you! She gave you a ring. She built a house so y'all could exchange colors in it. Support the other lesbians and quit thinking everyone is competition!

Sure, yeah, give Anin a ring to show your possession, so Kuea can also sniff that out and snitch on y'all because Anin's brother doesn't haven enough on his plate trying to cover up all y'alls other hijinks and tomfoolery.

Nevermind! Petty Patty already figured it out and is giving the stink eye instead of REMEMBERING SHE LOVED A WOMAN TOO!

And next week, she's only going to get worse.

But how bad could she really be with only five episodes left to go?

This bitch.

#the colors mean things #the loyal pin #color coded girls in love #episode eleven #let my babygirl kiss a girl #let the other girls thrive #there is room enough for everyone to fall in love #DO YOU HEAR THAT PAT?!#You are a hater!#chill tf out

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poorly-drawn-mdzs · 5 months ago

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Council of lovefools.

[First] Prev <–-> Next

#poorly drawn mdzs #mdzs #wei wuxian #jiang yanli #jiang cheng #They don't have an actual sleepover in this scene but the vibes were so sleepover coded...I had to get them cozied up.#Late night talks with friends and family are some of the best conversations.#My siblings and I used to have room sleepovers with each other (Actually an excuse to stay up and talk about runescape)#Currently my flatmates and I also have really great heart to hearts late into the night.#Pondering shit like 'What defines confidence?“ and ”Why are people terrified of letting themselves fall in love?"#All that aside; There is a really great conversation between JC and WWX here. They are so close and yet so far way from each other!#Fundamentally they *agree* about many things - but JC now has to play the role of someone more 'mature'.#His temper is reigned in and he had to take a more nuanced approach. Whereas WWX can be far more reactionary.#JC has changed to become someone more mature (or at least he is trying).#Contrast this attitude with the scene *right* after where WWX literally goes baby mode with JYL. Rolling around going “I'm Fwee years old”.#When children are hurt we comfort them with hugs and warm food and a laugh. It's not enough when you're an adult. It's not simple anymore.#WWX is stuck in the past when everyone else is shifting and moving on! It's a depression allegory (and just...actual depression)#But we also get to see how some things have stayed the same. They still bicker about soup. They still tease. They are still together.#They all care for each other very much but they are struggling against trauma and are not equipped to talk about it.#You can't really blame WWX for being so protective over JYL. But JC is right: “You don't have a say in who she likes.”#It may have started as an arranged marriage but *she* is *choosing* what her heart wants. JC sees that. WWX cannot.#The final act of love is letting go after all.

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lovelylittlegrim · 4 days ago

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Room Enough for Two

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #fic #smut #completed work #my fic #Room enough for two #post season 4 #everyone lives au #falling in love

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birchbow · 2 years ago

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How long were Travye and Kurloz together before they broke up?

Mmm, I am not a numbers person, especially because I will not remember what I said later, lol. So I don't have a number for you! But it was definitely like...a pretty significant amount of time. Something in the order of sweeps/years, not months.

...Definitely quite a bit longer than Kurloz and Gamzee were together before they let the news get out, which did not help Halore's immediate distrust and resentment of Gamzee just like, right off the jump.

#ask time!#Halore Travye #plenty of times things to hurt enough halore thought he was going to have to say something and then he steeled himself again #because for better or worse that's what he does when he wants something he sets his jaw and goes after it like a pitbull #plenty long for kurloz to multiple times doubt and then reassure himself that why the fuck would halore lie like that for so long #Halore and Kurloz had kind of a VERY slow-burn regency novel 'longing glances hands brushing unspoken feelings' kind of arc #the Gamkur arc was more like...a squirrely damaged reckless young knight the king is a little too fond of shows up at his throne room #and is like FUCK ME DANGEROUSLY DADDY and the king is like dammit he's going to hurt himself he can't be serious--oh well shit he is #I have wanted to Fuck Dangerous for hundreds of years and haven't been able to! so i will deign to have a fun time with you #except oops oh no. i forgot i am not immune to falling in love. if anything happened to you i would kill everyone in this room and then mys

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crossbackpoke-check · 1 year ago

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56 and any Yamo pairing! 🫶

i just wheezed so hard when i saw what the song was i almost snorted coffee out of my nose i am so sorry for this one

#56 - kyoto phoebe bridgers + yamo

the story of how this song ended up on my wrapped is too long so it’s going in the tags but. let me set the scene for you.

2026 NHL GLOBAL SERIES™️ JAPAN - Presented by YPPI

November 13 & 14, 2026: Dallas Stars, Montreal Canadiens, Seattle Kraken, Vancouver Canucks

Saitama Super Arena, Saitama, Japan

It’s a pitiful excuse of a consolation prize for not being able to go to the Olympics, but Kailer’s not going to look a vacation horse in the mouth. The arena’s cool. It’s huge. The people are cool. There’s so many more of them than he thought there’d be with jerseys that have his name on the back, and a lot more that have the familiar orange and blue. He takes a picture of the fifth Oilers Yamamoto jersey he signs—this one’s the good Reverse Retro—and texts it to Connor, says,

no one here has even heard of mcjesus

and gets a moon face emoji in response. Leon’s influence. Kailer’s still never really deciphered what that one means, and he doesn’t think Connor knows either.

They don’t have a lot of time off between games, but Kailer’s trying to be a good tourist. His dad had been so happy when Kailer had told him about the series that Kailer’d had to stop him from trying to book a flight a year in advance, and his mom’s been just as bad, sending him every article she sees about Best New Spot in Tokyo! Cool Restaurant! Have You Seen This Japanese Cat Café? that she scrolls across on Facebook since June. Suzy’s in the same boat, so they’ve been crossing off their compiled travel-guide list together, looping in as many guys as they can. Everyone’s been pretty game. All the teams are crammed into close quarters at the same hotel, which means everyone wants to spend as much time as possible outside of it, and it helps that Kailer’s gotten pretty close with all the other guys that the NHL picked up as Global Series figureheads. Robo’s memes? Absolutely fire. The groupchat loves them.

For every item he crosses off the list, Kailer takes a picture and keeps it tucked in his phone notes. It’s like speed-running a scavenger hunt—they’re only here for four days—but he’s doing a pretty good job. His favorite so far has been all the gardens. They’re stunning, trees shining bright red and yellow, and every vendor has been selling maple candies, maple cakes, and even fried maple, though the official maple festival doesn’t start until next week. The second garden he visits, he does it on his own after practice, buying two cakes from a cart near the gate and walking until he loses the bustle outside. It’s easy to get lost in the winding pathways, heading deeper into the quiet, and there’s dozens of benches underneath the burnished leaves where young couples are tucked away on dates, or old friends are laughing and catching up. In some of the little clearings, there’s small shrines where people leave offerings, a prayer for good luck or good fortune.

Kailer stops at one without any people and sets the second maple cake on top of it, then sits and scrolls through all the texts that he’s missed. His mom gets replied to with a picture of him outside the garden gate, grinning and surrounded by other travelers. He sends his brother a picture of a trashy graphic I Love Japan t-shirt with the threat that he’ll buy one for him, and Kailer’s dad gets a picture of the meticulously arranged and cut bonsai that are across from the bench where he’s sitting. The Seattle groupchat gets a recycled meme from Robo, and he gets two thumbs up and an “LMAO” before he can even exit the thread. Finally, Kailer takes a picture of the half-eaten maple cake in his hand, holding it next to a fallen maple leaf on the bench, and gets halfway through typing another message before he thinks better of it.

(On the plane over, Drieds was reading them a story about how when they first introduced the high-speed railway, people were afraid to use it because they thought it would be too fast for their souls to keep up.

“Bro, if that were true, you just left your soul in the middle of the Pacific,” Ebs had laughed. “Planes are faster than trains.”

“Are they?” Matty asked. “Isn’t the train in Japan the fastest in the world?”

Drieds couldn’t make it through the rest of the story over the sound of everyone ripping Matty to shreds, so Kailer didn’t get to ask whether or not they found out anything about planes. Kailer’s not worried about his soul, but the logic makes a strange kind of sense; after all, he traveled 429 miles in five and a half hours once, and that was a little too fast for his heart to keep up.)

Fuck it. Kailer’s been trying to write a response for the past ten days, and he’s sick of swiping in and out of the message, staring at the keyboard so long he starts to see swirls in his vision.

Kailer drafts the text again and sends it, no context, no caption. A text travels faster than a high-speed train or a jet. Maybe it’ll pick his heart back up on the way.

#I don’t know how this song ended up on my Spotify wrapped because phoebe bridgers is too emotionally damaging for me to listen to like.#at all unless i am In It HOWEVER. there is this one silly video that brings me so much joy and made me feel semi-reasonable about listening #to kyoto & it’s the one video of the two painter guys painting the room & the lil guy is being a menace & the other guy just looks at him s #fondly & so lovingly & is that not the thesis of kailer yamamoto. be small be a menace be beloved by everyone. ANYWAY #liv in the replies #look this was going to be such a different thing and then. my brain went HEY BUDDY GUESS THE FUCK WHAT kyoto is a city in Japan.#day off in kyoto. guess who’s Japanese. guess what the nhl loves to do as HIFE publicity. also growing the AAPI audience is HUGE and i thin #they should. like originally i had NO idea what this was going to be (i’m so lying. the line ‘i’m gonna kill you’ but incredibly fond a la #the two painters video kept replaying in my head and i was like l m a o. klimmer & kailer. no plot all vibes it’s klimmer & Kailer that’s i #there is no real plot there is no actual idea the amount of googling that i did to write just this is UNREASONABLE i would love to be norma #about anything ever but i ALSO invented so much backstory to this that has no way of appearing in the actual fic and also jokes for ME #for instance. YPPI is the american manufacturer for yamaha motorcycles and. suzuki. yamamoto. (it’s not my brainworms it’s due to a fancam)#respectfully also i cannot write this fic. i have never been to japan and i think it would take me eight years to google enough #to be relatively comfortable like y’all have never seen the extensive research i put in to fucking phiLLY and a whole other COUNTRY???#where the premise of the fic is learning how to be a tourist in your life and sometimes you have to grow out of things?#yeah i AM going to make something with the idea of Momijigari and life is ephemeral. is that a plot? no it’s vibes.#kailer goes to japan in the fall and realizes he’s a liar. who lies. (he misses [redacted]) (the redacted is because i haven’t decided)#also also. the garden reference is because a) i spent WAY TOO MUCH TIME ON GOOGLE and found out things to do in saitama and also that #kailer’s grandpa had a meticulous garden and i just think that’s neat #hiding-from-reality-56 #random ficlet is unbeta’d un-anything’d i don’t know WHERE this came from or the real plot of it at all. ok thanks byeeeee

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