#where he has to fight them and suddenly he cant hide behind the ideas of humans being all awful any more but by now hes too far in
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charafansmile · 16 days ago
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That's what's so tragic about him, he HAD proof in chara that humanity could be good! Honestly I think he and toriel had to be aware at least a little bit of what charas surface life was like, to at least explain why he was so angry. Not only did they hurt his adopted child before he even got to meet them, but then they went and killed his son as well!
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Transcript: Asgore did not have a point and was in the wrong, not for wanting to free his kind, but for wanting to wipe out humanity despite knowing there was good in them
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iouinotes · 9 months ago
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Heroic Betrayal | Luke Castellan (part 3)
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PERCY JACKSON AND THE OLYMPIANS SERIES AND THE BOOKS SPOILERS
pairing: Luke Castellan x female!reader
show: Percy Jackson and the Olympians
warnings: dark!character, betrayal, angst
summary: You meet Luke again in battle. But nothing turns out the way either of you expect.
a/n: The third part, yayyy! Somehow I still can't figure out the end. But as long as no one complains, I won't stop :))
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I'm breathing heavily, my feet hurt and I'm struggling to stand properly on my legs. The wound on my arm hurts, I can feel the blood running down my arms. My shirt is soaked red. I feel the strong urge to cry and I'm amazed that I can still breathe. Everything around me is spinning, but the fear keeps me running.
I know he's ahead of me. That I'm chasing after him. His golden sword reflects shadows in our surroundings. Any person with enough sense would hide.
But Im done hiding. I want to fight.
Maybe I'm a coward for admitting this now, but I was hoping my friends would be by my side.
My friends…I hope they're okay. I lost sight of them almost immediately when Krono's troops stormed out of the forest and attacked the camp. I only had time to listen to Annabeth's orders and the next thing I knew, I was in the center of the fight.
And then there was Luke.
He was standing there just like he did a few days ago when he showed up here at camp and begged me to come with him. But the idea of being back on that ship scared me more than anything. The thought of being near the Titan.
Close to him who betrayed me.
He doesn't really look any different now, perhaps more angry and murderous than usual. It's enough to wake me from my trance. Because the look in his eyes is darker than the deepest night and it sends a cold shiver down my spine. I'm not running away anymore, I tell myself at that moment.
But just as I'm about to go in his direction, he disappears behind a couple of monsters. I pay little attention to that, only trying to find him again.
I can't let him get away.
So I follow his tracks, stab some of his warriors and make them disappear into smoke. I'm so angry that my jaw is grinding, because I'm clenching my teeth so hard. Then I see his figure behind some trees and suddenly I'm filled with energy. I draw my sword with newfound strength and run towards him.
Until my lungs feel like they're on fire. And yet I don't slow down. I forget how deep I'm going into the forest. I slowly lose my sense of direction as to where I am, even though this has always been our place.
Hidden behind trees, bushes and naiads. Now the branches are on fire, smoke is in the air and there are no friendly forest dwellers to be seen. I stop when I see a flash of golden light to my left. Hope rises in me that Percy has found me.
But as soon as I see his dark hair, everything tightens inside me. I stop and raise my sword protectively in front of me.
"Stop running away! I thought you wanted to fight?" He leans his shoulder casually against a tree, his smile making me seethe with anger.
"Princess, I'm not running away. I was just shielding you from the others." My pulse quickens, adrenaline coursing through me. My grip on the weapon tightens.
"Then what are you waiting for? Come and get me!" I see him shake his head.
"Are you so naive that you seriously believe that? You're not here to be killed." My eyebrows draw together and I shift my weight uncomfortably.
"Then why?"
"I'm doing you a favor. I don't want you to watch your friends walk to their certain deaths." Silence spreads over us. Then his voice cuts through.
"Face it, you're doomed. I'll give you one last chance. Join me."
I hate myself for it, but I hesitate. And I hate it even more that he notices.
,,You friends will never consider it, they will lose. You cant imagine how weak they are compared to Kronos. And I dont-" for a moment, he seems to be uncertain. He presses his lips together and walks a step towards me.
"I would hate myself for eternity, if I allow myself to lose you."
My heart hurts, it's beating in my chest as if it wanted to show me how much I miss him. But could I listen to my heart, even though my mind tells me the opposite?
“How can I trust you again? How can we ever go back to where we where? You and me, we are not the same as before.“ My voice seems drained, my desperation seeks through my facade.
I try not to show him, how I feel. How much I wish for us to get back together. Him telling me jokes, us laughing. Kissing in the sun, after we won Capture the Flag. Playing hide and seek in the woods, hugging and touching each other.
Being in love.
“Dont you want a future with me? Imagine a home, a safe place. Just for us. Against the world.“ He makes it seem so easy. As if the world we know, wouldnt be falling apart in this moment.
“So whats the plan? Fighting against your friends and family? Being Kronos slave?“ He‘s silent for a moment.
“You were always my only family. I only need you by my side.“
„I dont believe you. You are the one who lied to me. I wouldnt lie to you. I would have never left you in the first place.“
"I can't do it without you." I scrunch my eyebrows, how dare he ignores my accusations?
"What are you talking about?" He hesitates.
"I wont be here much longer. Well-thats not really true. My body will still exists, but I wont be myself anymore."
"Dont try to mess with me! You said yourself, you will fight in the war."
"I will, darling. But you wont know me."
"I-I dont understand." He's just an arm's length away from me. His gaze is distant.
"Kronos will awake. He needs a body, so his soul or whatever he has, can dive into. Sort of a reborn-kind-of-thing. And it will be me."
I'm so shocked that I'm unable to react. Hundreds of thoughts stream through my head, the thought of losing him - it's unbearable.
"You wont." His eyes shift from the floor to my face. There is astonishment hidden in his eyes.
"Exuse me?" This time I take the final step closer to him. His face is right in front of mine, both of our swords are drawn at our sides.
"I swear on the Ryver Styx, I wont ever, as long as I live, let you trade yourself to that thing and let you- the real you, die in the process. You just wont." My wild expression is reflected in his pupils. Silence surounds us, then a small, genuine smile that I haven't seen in months spreads across his face.
As if he had all the time in this world, he leans down and stops himself in front of my lips. It's the first time since he left camp that he silently asked me for permission.
,,I love being in love with you." His whispering voice ghosts over me.
I close my eyes and connect our lips. A sweet, slow kiss ensues, his fingers hold my chin up to him.
How could I ever resist him?
When he pulls away, he presses two quick kisses to the corners of my mouth. He calmly pushes a strand of hair out of my face, our eyes watching each other.
"I wish the gods didn't exist. I wish no one existed but us."
As I'm about to answer, I see golden curls behind his back. Percy's appearance surprises me so much that I forget Luke's words for a moment.
I pull myself together as soon as his voice sounds again. "I know you don't see it that way. But if Kronos destroys the gods, if there is a chance to reshape the world, maybe then we could have a chance at peace. Dont you think?"
There is so much hope in his eyes that I would finally believe him, join him in his unattainable dreams.
When my eyes meet Percy's, his look tells me exactly one thing: Distract him.
I love Luke. But I have put my faith in Percy.
So I nod slowly. Silently agreeing with Percy and making it seems, that I agree with Luke. I see how Luke's entire body straighten, his eyes glow with a new light.
He seems happy.
I almost fall in love with him again.
"I knew you would understand when the time is right. I knew it! God, I love you so much." His hands cup my cheeks, he kisses me. So intense that I forget my fears and doubts. I forget that Percy is standing behind him.
Luke's adoring look is the last thing I register before Riptide crashes over his head and the boy I love falls unconscious to the ground.
⚔️⚔️⚔️⚔️
"He is dangerous." Annabeth's voice is the only thing that can be heard clearly in the room. Murmurs, footsteps and rustling are like a rushing background noise. My head hurts.
It's been almost two hours since we were in the forest. I tried to catch Luke's body so he wouldn't hit his head, as he fell to the ground. I didn't really succeed, because now he has a small cut on his forehead.
Percy and Beckendorf helped me bring him to our destroyed camp. But not in the infirmary, instead they dropped him in a cell. I protested, but no one wanted to give him the opportunity to be free and possibly escape.
That's why they locked the door and the sight almost broke my heart. Silena said I shouldn't be here, shouldn't see him like that. But I couldn't leave him alone.
The only time I left was to go to the infirmary, so I could get a first aid kit to treat his wound. Then I had a hard time convincing Percy to let me into his cell.
Now I'm sitting on the floor with his head in my lap, brushing his hair out of his face. They are longer and darker, his face looks older and more exhausted. And I treated the wound on his forehead as best I could, after all, I'm not a child of Apollo.
The scar on his cheek glows faintly red in the light, and I carefully run my fingers over it. Just like I always did when he was stressed. I try to ignore the judgmental looks from others. The withering looks “How can she be with the traitor?" But none of them dare to talk to me about it.
Only Percy looks at me warily, as if I wasn't much older and he was the one who needed to protect me. He really is like a brother to me.
When he also notices the looks of the others and therefore my discomfort, he gestures with his hand to leave us alone. Even if he stays there. It's quiet for a moment.
"You can go to Annabeth. I'll be fine." I look at him, trying to make it clear to him that I'm fine. But he doesn't look convinced.
"He'll be angry when he wakes up. I don't know if it's a good idea for you to be in there." I sigh, my eyes returning to Lukes sleeping face.
"I think it's sweet that you care. But Luke wouldn't-" I stop in my sentence. For a moment I am in doubt. Luke would be angry, of course he would be. And after everything, can I be sure he won't hurt me? This question would never have been considered before. But now?
He never physically hurt me. But he lied to me, betrayed me. Kidnapped and gaslighted me, basically tried to force me to stay with him. He wasn't the same anymore. So how could I be sure?
"He won't let anyone talk to him when he's in here alone. He's too stubborn for that. I'm the only one he would listen to. And even of that I'm not sure." Percy's eyebrows furrow. He looks not much more relieved than he was a minute ago.
"Well, now I'm definitely convinced." His sarcasm makes me smile. And I think that's enough to calm him down.
"I'm sure Annabeth is looking for you right now. Please go, Percy. Let me pretend I have everything under control for a moment." He hesitates, but nodds quietly. His fading footsteps are the last thing I hear before I feel sudden movements in my lap.
My eyes dart towards him. A painful groan escapes his throat, the sound is enough to make my heart beat faster.
Without thinking, I stroke his hair and scratch his head. He always liked this tender gesture. I hope it's enough to temper his anger, which I know is to expect in time.
As his eyes slowly open, I see the disorientation in them. Then he realises what happend. When he sees me, I make out different emotions in the way he looks at me. Fury, sadness, pain.
"I'm sorry." My voice is just a whisper in the silence. As he tries to sit up, I see his strength pulling at him and his face turning pale.
"Wait- you still need to rest. Here" I take the water bottle that Percy put in front of me and carefully hold it to his mouth. He slowly drinks a few sips.
When he's done, I put the bottle back to the side. I look at him, waiting, while my hand remains still.
"You are here." It's not what I expected to hear from him.
I meet his gaze, clearly confused.
"You never liked waking up alone." My voice sounds breathless, an old memory haunts his face.
"Still, I would have thought you would be standing next to Percy, laughing. If you finally have the opportunity to lock me up, I mean." His voice drips with hostility at the mention of Percy, the look in his eyes dark. But at least he doesn't try to stand up again for now.
"I would never do that." He knows it's true.
His eyes look away, his cheek turning to his right side to gaze through the bars. Light falls into the cell.
"You tricked me." It's not an accusation, just a statement.
"I guess we're even." He stays silent when I answer.
"You will not hold me prisoner." I just look at him confused. I don't know how to answer. Does he think the cell is just an unpleasant stay until he can sleep in his cabin again?
Since he doesn't say anything more, I do the same. A few minutes pass, both of us dont know what to say, then distant footsteps are heard and I see Percy again. As sweet as he naturally is, he first looks at me to see if everything is alright. Then his gaze turns to Luke and when he realizes he's awake, his eyes harden. But I see the sadness in them.
After all, Luke was his friend too.
"Percy." Luke's voice sounds malicious, as if he would like to get up and destroy the bars himself to fight Percy.
"Luke." Percy's voice is neutral. Only his facial expression reveals what he feels. He is angry.
The two boys stare at each other and I feel myself getting nervous, so I clear my throat to get their attention.
"What's the plan? Can we get out?" I choose my words carefully. So that Percy knows what I mean and Luke knows that I don't just want to get out myself.
Luke sits up and I see how much effort it takes him. I let him, because I also know that he doesn't want my help in front of Percy. Guys.
Percy hesitates. He also tries to choose his words carefully.
"I don't think we can just let him walk around here-" his voice is interrupted by Luke.
"You won't keep me prisoner in here, Percy. Anyone who has a problem with me should raise their sword against me."
Percy's eyebrows shoot up. “Then good luck competing against the whole camp. I'm sorry, but I cant let you out."
Luke's withering look makes me quickly stand next to him. I try to calmly put my hand on his arm. But faster than I can register, he has me trapped in his arms and is holding my own dagger to my throat. I didn't even notice he stole it from me.
The pressure is so tight that it's hard for me to breathe. I'm frozen. Percy also looks like he's just been struck by lightning.
"Let. Me. Out." I feel my eyes start to water.
"Luke-" but his grip only tightens and my voice falls silent. I feel his eyes stare daggers at Percy's.
"Now." Before I can stop Percy, he takes out the key. But unlike Luke, Percy's gaze is on me. Concern is shown in his eyes.
The door opens and I feel Luke's grip weaken. I see it as my only chance. I step on Luke's foot as hard as I can, pushing him away, while the dagger meets my skin, a suprised grunt escaping him.
I run towards the door and before I can even say anything, Im out and Percy pushes it shut again.
Luke's angry voice mixes with the rapid heartbeat in my ears. I feel Percy's hands on my shoulders and him trying to make eye contact with me.
But all I can do is look at Luke. Seeing his eyes blinded with anger, it scares me.
Before he can say anything else, I turn around and run out of the building.
Please comment how you would like the story to end! Thanks <333
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yinses · 4 years ago
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B R A N D E D
| he would make sure that everyone knew who you belonged to |
tattoo artist! sukuna ryomen
rating: t
a/n: this is going to be a three part series. it got too long because i couldn’t shut up. thank you to @teoran for beta reading !! 
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you should have never informed yuuji that you were thinking about getting a tattoo, because of course his first response would be hey, sukuna owns a shop. why don’t you stop there. as if you didn’t already known that. your other friend, unfortunately had not known how to be subtle about it.
its when you go to hand off your card that they gasp audibly, drawing the attention of both yourself and the woman behind the counter.
“you’re not going to ask for a discount? i mean you know the owner, right?”
she jumps back quick enough to dodge the errant elbow you throw her way.
you knew you would regret telling her.
the woman is undeterred as she take your card, looking bored with the news. “so you know sukuna, huh?” the way she said it implied that it wasn’t the first time it had been made known to her.
you had known the man long enough to know where her thoughts were going with that assumption. sukuna wasn’t only popular for his art. a shudder rolled through your body at the idea of being categorized as one of his flings.
it wasn’t as though you were intentionally shaming the women. but it was sukuna. the same guy who locked you and his younger brother out on the patio whenever he was meant to keep an eye on you. and then blamed you for hiding from him when the responsible adults got home.
in hindsight, maybe you should have chosen another location. but now your card has been charged.
you scribbled your signature on the receipt, “uh yeah, awhile now. im not requesting him or anything.”
“his appointment book is full anyway. he doesn’t take walk ins.” its not said snidely, just matter of fact. as if she was seasoned with dealing with these kind of customers.
the man of topic strides in then, carrying a few bags of take-out that he drops carelessly onto the counter. he doesn’t m look unlike any other day, a loose white sleeveless shirt with a low hanging v-neck that just invited attention to his skin. the swirls of black ink made permanent by his hand only. though that was the advantage of this field and owning your own business on top of it.
sukuna was prepared to ignore the clientele planted at front desk, until he did a double take. those vermilion eyes took you in, morphing from speculation, to shock, a pinch of awe, then back to postulation.
“what are you doing here?”
a small frown mars you face. you didn’t actually consider that perhaps sukuna wouldn’t want you here. it was one thing to know the guy, but whether you wanted to accept it or not, you weren’t just another customer. so you unsurely respond with, “getting a tattoo?”
the snort he gives isn't one of annoyance. in fact its almost comforting to see the minuscule curl of his lips until they start to part, “yeah, missing something aren’t you?”
you realize with a frown that he’s referring to his brother.
“i have other friends.”
that slow smile wides as he gives your friend a brief look of appreciation. suddenly all those years of witnessing him cart his flings around rise to the forefront of your mind.  really nothing rarely changed. “ i can see that.”
his gaze cuts back to you, “what are you getting? your boyfriends name?”
you cant tell if he’s teasing, fishing or a combination of them both.
he turns to lean over the counter, arms flexing at the action and pinches the fresh design still hot from the printer. you resist the urge to shuffle in place as he inspects the image with more interest than there were lines. it was hardly all that complex, just as you intended.
sukuna finally voices his opinion, to no surprise of your own. “yeah? kind of small isn’t it?”
“its my first sukuna,” you drawl.
you realize too late that the wording isnt best around him.
“no kidding.”
he tugs a styrofoam box free from the plastic bag before gesturing to you with a tilt of his head.
“alright, lets knock it out.”
you look to the woman expecting her to complain about his pending appointments but she only returns it with a pointed look. when it came down to it, what the boss wanted goes.
right then.
turning, you address your friend who seemed more invested in watching sukuna’s departure. “are you coming?”
her gaze snaps to you and she doesn’t even bother to pretend. she shrugs, “you may not be squeamish about needles but i am.” her hand waves vaguely towards the lounge area near the coffee station and stack of assorted snacks. “i’ll come running if you scream though,” she teases as you turn down the hall.
sukuna’s voice carries from the right in guidance where you find him setting his food off to the side. the room is neat. though you don’t know what you were expecting given the health expectations lining his work. then again, you’d spent the better part of the decade watching him cart week old pizza boxes out of his room so it was hardly a baseless assumption.
aside from the desk of tools and variety of inks the only other defining feature was the wall at the back. there was no rhyme or direction to the madness. the once white wall was littered with varying penmanships and messages. almost like an autograph book. some derogatory, others genuinely thankful for his work - you think you see a few numbers too.
the cushion of the seat protests under his weight as he rolls to the center of the room. he has the stencil of your chosen art held up in expectation.
“where is this pretty little thing going?”
“oh my rib- here on the right.” you think nothing of bringing up the hem of your shirt to expose the skin just under the curve of your breast.
he almost looks impressed, though there is some doubt. he wheels closer and gives no warning as his hand palpates the area. “over the bone? that’s daring for your first tattoo, princess.”
the name was nothing new, an accompaniment to yuuji’s ‘brat’.
part of you actually grateful that its sukuna. the entire shop had good reviews but it was best known for his talent. besides, the charge was already sitting on your card.
“i can handle it.”
he’s still squinting at your side, fingers tickling at your skin.
“yeah?” he answers absently. nimble digits you didn't think had any taste for delicacy carefully peel the plastic from the stencil. he doesn’t second guess himself in the slightest before pressing it to your skin.
when he pulls away, the chair follows him as he collects a hand mirror from his desk to reflect the design back to you.
“double sure?” he’s still rallying your resolve, but there is a hint of warning to his voice as professionalism seeps in.
with a firm nod you seal the deal,” yeah.”
“aright, pin up your shirt out of the way. tuck it into your bra if you want.”
you were expecting this already, given the location you’d decided on. with sukuna that action comes effortlessly without thought. it was no different than the times he’d seen you in your bathing suit, your brain reasoned. at least you still had your pants this time.
sukuna rests back into a lean against his small desk. absently you note that his eyes haven't left you once since you’d entered the room.
“eager little thing aren't you?”
but its sukuna.
you shrug.“ i guess. kind of been saving up for this one.”
the noise he makes is non-committal as he nods to the angled chair.
without your shirt there was no barrier between yourself and the leather. you expected the cold chill but the lack of stickiness kind of surprised you. once again you were reminded of the indisputable list of reviews at your fingertips.
sukuna goes about collecting the materials to disinfect your skin, angling the bottle and cotton over the trash can to catch the excess drops. satisfied with the saturation, he slides back.
you try to absorb the brief shock you feel when he applies the alcohol to your skin. it was hardly a substitute for actual bracing to come but it was good practice. when you look up, you catch his gaze again.
he’d been more observant in these last few minutes than you could ever recall sukuna caring before. maybe it was the job. though the thought of him excelling at customer service has you fighting a snort.
“cold,” you supply and he gives another grunt.
he chucks the cotton ball into the trash with all the efficiency of a man who has made a sport out of it and probably keeps score.
deciding on a solid color eliminated the need for him to break away to change shades, eliminating any surplus time keeping you in this chair.
a gloved hand braces your side, pinching the skin, while the other holding the gun rests against your sternum. when the motor starts you take a careful breath in. sukuna’s eyes raise at the sound.
“not nervous?”
you blink, expecting him to just get to it.
“uh, not really? i’ve never really been afraid of needles.”
he pauses. just when you part your lips to ask what wrong the buzzing starts.
its impossible not to tense at the first bite of the needle. but you fight the urge to jerk. it stings. the vibration of the motor is uncomfortable against your ribcage but it's not unbearable. you certainly wouldn't cry.
sukuna seems to notice it as well.
“not going to lie thought you’d be more of a cry baby? weren't you the one sobbing after you stubbed your toe.”
you latch onto the idle chatter even if it's a jibe.
“i was eleven and i sprained that toe.”
he gives you a quick glance. “sure, princess. completely called for the waterworks.”
you snort. “yeah well it made me stronger. im barely affected today.”
your words are followed by a shift of his hand as it turns to follow a line, the movement pressing firmly against the underside of your breast. you're too attentive to the needle pinching at your skin to take notice.
but sukuna does, eyes narrowing without your awareness.
“yeah, i can see that.”
rather than closing your eyes to block out the pain, you find a more comforting distraction in tracing the lines of his tattoos with your gaze. you can hardly make out the first tattoo he’d gotten at the age of seventeen after forging his parents signature. 
the abstract design had now branched out, interlocking with new styles to map out the formation of a sleeve. it was almost like his own branded language. a dialect of bold shapes and bands. you’d never thought to actually ask what his tattoos meant. nor did you expect an honest answer.  
sukuna works rather quickly and efficiently while your mind wandered. even if he hadn’t squeezed you in during his lunch break this felt like the usual pace for him. he looked so in the zone as he followed the pre-made lines to perfection.
you weren’t the model customer, still having your brief moments of weakness but he rolled with the interruptions better than you expected. sukuna was brash growing up and didn’t tolerate nonsensical people. you’d had your fair share of opportunities to be chewed out by him.
and earned a reasonable amount of them, though your returning attitude said otherwise.
but this sukuna was softer, if you could put it like that. he knew the right time to give you breaks but didn’t let your nerves settle too much. when he wasn’t adding a layer to permanency to your skin, an errant finger would smooth over the swelling flesh.
more than once you heard him throw out a quiet good girl. that you knew was meant to be encouraging but it came with additional implications that tickled your skin.
he tells you that you should be grateful that the artwork doesn’t need any shading. that it was never a good fit for beginners.
your chest expands the furthest it had in the last half hour when he finally rolls back.
“alright, princess, go ahead and take a look.”
you take the offered mirror again and angle it to take in the fresh piece. the reflection you get back is- amazing. you’d been so concentrated?? on micromanaging the pain that you failed to take in the little details he’d added along with the original design.
as if reading your thoughts, he snorts. “it's not my art if i don't leave my mark. you can tell me it looks good you know.”
if you didn't know any better, you’d say he was authentic in his attempt to bait your approval.
and you had no reason not to provide.
your legs are a little shaky but you manage to balance yourself before brining the eldest itadori into a hug. sukuna goes stiff for a moment before returning the embrace and doesn’t resist when you press your face into his shoulder. there’s an awkward pat before they release each other from the hold.
sukuna .. before he’s shrugging you off.
“god, what a noob. at least let me cover it up. you’re going to irritate the skin.”
when he turns back to rummage through his desk you note the hint of a flush creeping up his nape. you know better than to mention it, instead just smiling at his back.
there is a scowl on his face as he applies the cotton square to your skin and tapes it in place.
“please do not itch this shit. i don’t care if you feel like your skin is going to fall off.”
he presses a small tube of antibiotic into your hand.
“and apply this daily. you don't need it drying out. “
you’re grateful for the little slip of printed instructions that follow. you were able to remember the sensible directions but it couldn't hurt to have additional guidance when you started to question the progress.
“oh and no sex.”
that was definitely not on the list.
sukuna raises a brow in all seriousness. “what? if you get your blood pumping too much.”
you call him on his bullshit,” this small? hardly. “
he raises his hands in mock surrender. “alright, try it yourself if you want. i charge for touch ups though.”
the two of you size each other up. just like old times.
with a sigh you relent, “fine, no sex.”
“good, see me in two weeks.”
his words stop you short. it wasn’t as if you needed anything added and he wasn’t a physician checking on your progress. if anything, you would only revisit your artist if there was a problem.
“what for?”
the dawning grin would follow you for the next fourteen days.
“to make sure you didn’t have sex.”
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not-me-simping-for-blasty · 4 years ago
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boyfriend!bakugou headcannons
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before dating
- will start noticing you only after you either,,
A) do something intentionally heroic
B) do something incredibly stubborn/borderline reckless to save someone
-there is no room in his big boy ego brain for anyone who doesn’t possess hero qualities,, soz thats just the way it is
-thats not to say he would only date someone from the hero course tho,, he would 100% take interest in someone from any course
-as long as they’re as dedicated to helping others and giving their 100% to everything they do,, he’d be happy
-would watch you for a long time but would be incredibly obvious about it. he’d try and hide it and be sneaky, but everyone knows. even you.
-when he finally asks you out, there was not a single plan involved. he just saw you alone and decided to man up about it on a whim
-that being said- after he does ask you out, he immeadiately panics about what to do on your first date. que frantic google searching-
top searches from that night include
how do cool guys dress
how to stop blushing
first date ideas that arent romantic
why am i sweating so much
-first date is an utter disaster by traditional standards
-he takes you somewhere with an athletic aspect- like minigolf or laser tag. he pays for you but immeadiately follows it up with “you better actually play and don’t just make me waste my money! its not gonna be fun kicking your ass unless you try, got it?”
-you have fun and can’t stop smiling- but not bc lil katsuki is charming you.
-no, you’re smiling bc he’s embarrassing himself at every turn trying to impress you. at first it’s a little off-putting, but then you realize just how much he cares and it’s kinda cute
-cute in the a dog-chasing-it’s-tail-until-it-gets-dizzy-and-falls-over kinda cute; but adorable nonetheless
-bakugou walks away from the date thinking he crushed it. just absolutely blew it out of the water,, there’s no doubt in his mind even though there 100% should be
early relationship
-incredibly touchy,, but not in like traditional or “cute” ways
-prior to you, bakugou’s only significant feeling was pure rage,, so needless to say he doesn’t know how to handle his sudden urge to touch you all the time
-he’s super nervous about it and doesn’t know if it’s suddenly okay hug and touch you as much as he wants to,, so he resorts to less traditional means of skinship
-so he’ll flick your forehead when you smile just right at him. he���ll pinch your cheeks when you talk too much. he’ll drop his hand flat and heavy over yours while you’re writing,, just so the pencil skitters across the page and you yell at him.
-he’ll push you over. not like a hard shove or anything,, but if he sees you sitting on the ground or squatting, he’ll just sort of push you over??? especially if you’re standing up from a chair,,
-ofc he catches you before you can fall or anything, but really he just uses “saving” you as an excuse to touch you
-he’ll push at you, catch you, and then smirk at you with “god, you’re so clumsy. i won’t always be around to save your sorry ass, you know.”
-it’s annoying so you just push him away and glare, but unfortunately for you, that’s what he wanted the whole time bc he’s a little shit
-that being said,, he’s still suprisingly sweet in even weirder ways
-bakugou’ll make you food. but he’ll never be around when you eat it,, you’ve tried before to eat the meals he cooks for you right after he cooks them, but he gets too embarrassed and finds an excuse to leave right when you’re about to eat the first bite
-he’ll tease you. a lot. about everything. but nobody else can tease you,, if somebody’s embarrassing you, bakugou will either threaten them until they stop talking or make a scene until nobody is paying attention to you anymore
-he’ll leave you little notes. most of them just have little doodles on them with reminders about homework or training, but they’re cute nonetheless
-when he takes you out on dates his hands always crackle when he first sees you. you’ve come to learn that the more dressed up you are, the more his palms will crackle
-normally you have to be the one to initiate any sort of romantic contact,, pls just kiss him already he’s almost always thinking about it but cant find the courage to do so
-when he does kiss or hug you on his own accord,, don’t say anything. he’ll pull away super quick and get all red!!!
established relationship
- suuuper clingy
-, not in the sense that he’s constantly phyiscally all over you,, he just won’t go anywhere with the class if you’re staying back, or will just follow you around the whole day if he’s got nothing else to do
-like,, if the bakusquad is looking for him they’re honestly just better off looking for you since he’s never far behind
-strangely enough, bakugou’s pretty quiet?? if he’s comfortable around you, he’ll stop being so prideful and picking so many arguments.
-his whole badass front at school wears him out,, so if katsuki comes to hang out with you after a long school day he’ll probably want to sit and just listen to you talk
-is a whole ass cat when it comes to physical affection. he normally acts indifferent entirely, but when he wants attention he wants attention
-might as well just drop everything you’re doing since he’s gonna throw you on the bed and just lay directly on top of you until you stop fighting him
-pet his hair super softly and tell him he’s strong and that you’re proud of him pls,, katsuki will cry
-formal dates happen less often now, but you see him more,,, in fact, you’re almost never without him. when he’s not doing school or studying or training katsuki is always where you are
-he’s pretty possessive and jealous- not just of like other guys, but literally anything that’s getting your attention. see examples 1 & 2
1.) ooo new book that has you super enthralled??? soz, it’s not just your book anymore. katsuki sits you on his lap and tells you that the only way he’s gonna let you continue to “waste your time on something so stupid” is if you read it out loud to him
2.) omg you got a new puppy that you’re just enamoured with?? tough, it’s bakugou’s puppy now too,, and he never lets it leave his side so the only way you’re gonna get to cuddle with the puppy is if you cuddle with bakugou too
-he’s super proud of you so he’ll introduce you as his s/o to everyone he meets,,, and if the person he’s talking to also has an s/o??? good lord katsuki would never shut tf up about how much better and stronger and cooler you two were than the other couple
-is not embarrassed about pda. at all. if everyone already knows you’re together than there’s nothing to hide,, he thinks that since he put in all the work to get you to love him than he should be able to reap the rewards,, anywhere. at anytime.
-that being said, he does find showing affection in front of others to be v v embarassing!!! so to combat that he turns it up to 11 and flirts and flusters you so bad so that all the 1A guys just think he’s super cool and manly with u instead of soft
-that being said, the second you guys are alone it’s like a switch has been flipped and you could fluster him only by batting your eyes just right
-insists you ‘cook’ with him. katsuki doesn’t let you do much but like cut up vegetables or stir, but he likes to listen to you talk while he does everything else
-generally pretty touch starved but only really indulges if you make the first move. like, he won’t ever tell you to come sit with him on the couch, but if you sit down?? then immeadiately he’s pulling you into his side and doesn’t let you up until he’s ready to get up as well
-still pokes and flicks and shoves you. also now feels comfortable enough to prank you. he thinks you’re adorable when you get mad enough to yell at him so prepare to be mad a lot.
-tells you he loves you damn near constantly. he wont say it first tho bc ~tsundere~ but after you admitted it first, he’ll say it. and once you know??? then he’s gonna make sure it’s known,,, blasty baby doesnt do anything half-assed esp not something as important as showing his love
-he likes to pick out your clothes for you bc otherwise you’ll walk about looking too cute and its a problem bc he never figured out how to get his hands to stop crackling
-will call you dumbass, idiot, moron, halfwit, klutz, etc in public but in private it’s usually princess or little brat or very rarely baby
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scarletemeterio-thesecond · 4 years ago
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Hello! Could i request a Sokka imagine where the reader is Tophs older sister who tries to leave her home when Toph join the Gaang? The MC is an outcast in her family, even by Toph. Toph doesnt want her to join because she claims she cant bend so shed be useless, this makes Sokka defend her and she joins along. The real reason shes an outcast in her family tho, is because shes a fire bender, and she has to hide her secret, only reavling the truth by accident after protecting Sokka in battle.
i absolutely loved this concept and i finally managed to finish this fic, i am so sorry for the long ass wait, but i'm starting to catch up on some old requests. hope you like it!
•••
Secrets (Sokka x Fem!Reader)
Warnings: none i think
Genre: Fluff i guess
Fandom: Avatar The Last Airbender
Summary: See request
Word Count: 1938
Reader uses she/her pronouns
•••
Being home was too much for (Y/N). She felt like she was invisible in her own family. The Beifongs had taken her in when she was little, but when they found out that she was a firebender, things changed completely.
When Toph was little, they were quite close, but then her parents managed to break them apart. They'd tell Toph that she was dangerous but also that she was useless because she couldn't bend.
So during the last few years, she felt like an outcast. She would go to the ring most of the time and analyze the movements of the fighters, trying to train herself. She eventually managed to improve her firebending, which had an unique style based on earthbending, but she still had a lot to learn.
She stopped going to the ring once she realized that Toph was the Blind Bandit, she didn't want to run into her outside of the house, but kept practicing on her own.
But suddenly one day the Avatar came to her home. He was looking for an earthbender teacher and she immediately knew that the person he was interested in was Toph. Dinner was a little awkward, but once everyone was ready for bed, things seemed much calmer.
(Y/N) was outside the house, enjoying the fresh air of the night when suddenly, she heard her sister talking.
''Even though I was born blind, I've never had a problem seeing. I see with earthbending. It's kind of like seeing with my feet, '' she said. ''I feel the vibrations in the earth, and I can see where everything is-- you, that tree, even those ants. And also my sister around here somewhere,'' she chuckled at her words. Even though they didn't have the best relationship, it was nice hearing Toph call her her sister. It made her feel a bit normal, even if back at the house she was still an outcast.
She stopped paying attention to the two kids and lost herself in her thoughts, but she got out of her trance when she heard an unfamiliar voice. (Y/N) went running back to the house and desperately called her parents.
''What's the meaning of this?'' Asked her father, clearly annoyed at the noise.
''Toph and the Avatar! Someone took them!''
Everyone went outside, following her, and they realized that the captors had left a note.
''If you want to see your daughter again, bring 500 gold pieces to the arena,'' read the girl from the Water Tribe. ''And it's signed 'Xin Fu and The Boulder.'''
''Master Yu, I need you to help me get my daughter back.''
''We're going with you,'' said the waterbender.
''I wanna go, too,'' said (Y/N). She was looking at her father as the words left her mouth.
''No, you can't come, (Y/N), you-.''
''I don't care. I know you've broken the relationship between me and Toph, but she's still my sister and I want to go.''
''You're not a bender, (Y/N), it would only be for the worse.''
''You know I can help,'' she muttered, knowing that her father knew what she meant.
There was a small pause while they shared a look. ''Fine, you can come, but don't try to do anything you might regret.'' He walked away from her and soon they all headed towards the arena.
Once Toph was free, her father finally saw what she was capable of. The way back to the house was awkward, to say the least.
After the conversation that Toph had with her father, there was a bigger tension in the house than usual.
A few moments later, (Y/N) heard some noise close to her room, and when she opened the door a little, she realized that her sister was escaping. She considered the idea of staying home, of being the only Beifong daughter and she couldn't think of something worse.
So as fast as she could, she changed her clothes to something more comfortable and ran quietly outside.
"Wait, guys! Please!" Said (Y/N) while running towards the group. "I wanna come too," she told them. "Please?"
She could see how Aang, Katara and Sokka all started nodding with smiles on their faces, but whem she looked at Toph, her expression was completely different.
"You can't," said the girl.
"What? Why not?"
"Yeah, Toph, what's the problem?" Asked Katara.
"Look, (Y/N), I don't mean to offend you but why would you even come with us?"
"Because I don't belong here, and you know it."
"You're not a bender, you would only be a liability to us."
"Hey! Don't be like that, Toph!" Exclaimed Sokka.
(Y/N) already had some tears on her eyes but quickly got rid of them. She didn't want the others to see her cry.
Sokka got down from Appa and stood next to (Y/N). "(Y/N) is coming with us, okay? Now let's go, we don't want to waste any time." He grabbed the girl by the arm and helped her get on top of Appa.
During their whole journey away from the Beifongs' house, Sokka and (Y/N) talked a lot.
He liked having someone like him around, it made him feel like he wasn't so alone; and she liked feeling like someone cared a little bit about her.
-
The days went by and (Y/N) could finally tell that she'd found her new family. Even her relationship with her sister had improved significantly since they'd both left home.
Still, no one knew that she was actually a firebender. She hated lying to everyone but she also didn't know how to tell them; in her head, she thought that they wouldn't want her to be with them anymore, she was afraid.
"Hey, (Y/N)," she heard someone say. She looked up and saw Sokka standing next to her. He took a seat by her side. "What are you thinking about?"
"Hi, Sokka. It's nothing, really," she tried to sound convincing but knew that she'd failed. Out of everyone in the group, Sokka was the one she was closest to. She even had a little crush on him, and the fact that she was lying to him was destroying her.
"You always say that but I never believe you."
"I already told you, Sokka, I can't talk about it." She looked at him and he gave her a sympathetic look.
"You can tell me anything, (Y/N). And I promise I won't tell your secret to anyone else."
"No, I can't. You'd hate me if I told you, trust me."
"What? I could never hate you!" He exclaimed and she smiled a little. (Y/N) knew he believed what he was saying, but would it still be true even if he found out what she really was?
Sokka took one of the maps he'd taken from the library, trying to decipher it while still enjoying (Y/N)'s company.
"Waterbending bomb!" Katara yelled from afar, and then everyone saw her get into the water, splashing everyone.
"Sure, 5.000-year-old maps from the spirit library. Just splash some water on 'em," complained Sokka.
(Y/N) couldn't help but giggle a bit at his reaction.
They had to figure out a way to finally get to Ba Sing Se, and The Serpent's Pass seemed to be the only way, but that was until they met a couple that told them about the ferries.
However, the plan was a total failure, so the only option they had left was the dangerous Serpent's Pass.
It wasn't easy, but they eventually made it to the great city of Ba Sing Se. But there was something waiting for them there: a drill with the Fire Nation insignia on it.
It was obvious who was behind that, the Fire Nation princess herself, along with her two friends. Luckily, Sokka came up with a plan, they were going to take the drill down from the inside.
"Okay, we're gonna go with Toph and then we'll get inside of it, okay?" Sokka said.
They all nodded and got ready to go, but the earthbender suddenly stopped for a second.
"(Y/N), I think that you should stay here."
"What?" She was confused. They had been getting along a lot better lately, but that comment took her by surprise.
"You could get hurt, it's not safe. Plus, well, you can't bend and you know that."
"Toph, I can take care of myself, okay? I told you a million times before!"
"I know, but-."
"She's coming with us," interrupted Sokka. "She is one of us and we won't leave anyone behind, okay? And she's not helpless, Toph."
The little girl tried to say something, but the young boy didn't let her.
When they finally reached the drill, Toph stayed outside, and the rest of them went inside.
"I need a plan of this machine. Some schematics that show what the inside looks like. Then we can find its weak points."
"Where are we gonna get something like that?" Asked Aang.
"Maybe we should break something, then some engineer would have to come to fix it," suggested (Y/N).
"Good idea," said Sokka, and he got on with it.
Once they had the map, they knew what they'd have to do, but it wasn't going to be easy.
Aang and Katara had to cut through the braces of the structure, but they turned out to be a lot thicker than they thought. They luckily realized they didn't have to cut all the way through them, instead it was enough with just cutting a little to weaken them.
All of them were focused on the braces, so the only one that noticed the three Fire Nation girls was (Y/N). She realized Azula was about to blast some fire towards Sokka, and she quickly pushed him away and instinctively threw some fire at her, too.
Everyone was shocked, even the three girls that were trying to fight them, but there was no time for explanations.
Katara, Sokka and (Y/N) escaped through the pipeline and even though the battle wasn't over, as soon as they were out of the drill Sokka started interrogating (Y/N).
"You were a firebender this whole time? Why didn't you say anything? And why doesn't Toph know? I mean, she's your sister and- Wait," he made a pause, suddenly realising something. "That was your secret, right?"
She nodded slightly, and looked away to try and hide her blushing face.
"(Y/N), how could you think we would ever hate you for that? That I would hate you?" She could see the hurt in his face, and she hated herself for it.
"The Fire Nation is the enemy, so I guess I figured you wouldn't want me in your team anymore if you found out where I'm really from."
"(Y/N), you can't change where you come from, and we would never hate you for that," said Katara in a sweet voice, still using her bending against Ty Lee.
Sokka wrapped his arms against (Y/N), which took her by surprise, but she quickly wrapped hers around his waist. "Thank you for protecting me back there. And once again, I could never hate you, okay?" They pulled away just a little to look at each other and then he kissed her forehead.
They knew they were still in the middle of a battle and that Katara was just a few meters away from them, but right there in that moment, it didn't matter. It was only (Y/N) and Sokka, wrapped around eachothers' arms, finally starting to realize their feelings for one another.
•••
TAGLIST
@talas-starlight @just-a-belgian-girl @sorrythatspussynal @siriuslyslyslytherin
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mariesocuniverse · 4 years ago
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Relationships: NCT 127
Maeil (aka Daily)
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there are two meanings to their ship name
first is, of course, their names mashed together but the second meanings is much cuter and the one fans use to explain their dynamic
When Mae found out their ship name was Maeil her first reaction was “Oh? Is it because I make sure to let Taeil hyung I love him daily?” while cuddling Taeil on a couch
he’s the same age as Mae’s older brother so she treats him as such
her brother is literally like “Are you replacing me with Taeil? I’m your reall brother!” and she’s just there sweating
part of Taeil’s hype squad and will fight donghyuck for the position of president
like the two were on vlive and spent a good fifteen minutes arguing about their positions in the club Mae won but donghyuck refuses to acknowledge it
he could be doing something simple and you can see Mae in the background with a big smile cheering
he’s also like her personal teddy bear whenever she wants cuddles and/or wants to rest
there are just multiple gifs floating around nct twt of Mae tackling Taeil for a hug or her just clinging to him on a couch because she’s either tired and wants to rest or just wants cuddles
absolutely adores his voice
there are multiple compilations on youtube about all the times Mae compliments Taeil on his voice and him just blushing the whole time
Maenny
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was lowkey intimidated bc the man is a fucking tree and basically towers over her
but then he saw him play around with some other trainees and that thought disappeared real quick
he’s more like the protective older brother than like a parent like Doyoung or Taeyong
can and has used his height to his advantage when it comes to scaring people who hurt Mae or do something to make her sad
he was one of the first people who found out about her old company and he looked like he was about to storm their building probably would’ve if it weren’t for Mae
one of the first people she became friends with because he always answered questions she had when she was a trainees
before debut there were times people could see Johnny walk somewhere and Mae is just trailing after him like a lost puppy more like running because the man’s legs are long and he walks faster
there was this one time someone asked where Mae was and Johnny just shuffled to the side to reveal her behind him
his large frame was just big enough to hide her from everyone’s vision unless you walk past the two
you know that one vid of predebut nct performing Under The Sea with Johnny wearing the fish head? Mae was supposed to join him dressed as Ariel but the idea was cut last minute
there was this one time Mae couldn’t see something bc she was too short so Johnny lifted her up and put her on his shoulders
okay enough about Mae’s height
during shows he’s always encouraging Mae to talk more when she seems unsure whether to give her input or not
johnny, after an interviewer asks a question: “what do you think Mae?”
absolutely melts whenever she does aegyo because no matter how old she is he’ll always see her as the cute kid who followed him everywhere
MaeTae
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honestly it’s hard to pinpoint where Taeyong’s protective parental energy started getting directed to Mae
like it might’ve been somewhere predebut but she doesnt know when
she’s like 50% sure she just blanked out and suddenly Taeyong appeared in her life scolding her for not taking care of herself
it’s not like she’s complaining abt it she’s really grateful to have someone like him in her life
when her family got worried abt her joining a group filled with guys he personally went to her house and calmly explained how Mae will be taken care of and how the group will make sure that she’ll be safe
first person to know if there’s something between SM and Mae that the other members don’t know about
he was also the first member to know about what happened with Mae and her old company
she knows she can trust him with anything
he found her alone crying in one of the practice rooms and she just poured her heart out to him
Whenever they go places as a large group he looks for Mae first before counting the other members
she got lost once and now he doesnt want her out of his sight for more than five minutes
she got him a “world’s greatest dad” trophy as a joke that he has on a shelf in his room
YuMae
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you know how yuta acts with mark and winwin? yeah he does the same for Mae
if he isnt giving a hug to mark he’s all the way across the room with Mae giving her a back hug
Mae: does nothing
Yuta: aigoo look how cute she is :)
she doesnt ignore him tho she just returns the affection
likes to jump on his back for a piggy back ride or just run and jump to give him a hug
there was this one clip that went viral of Yuta talking to someone and he just pauses for a moment before turning around to catch Mae, who seemingly came out of nowhere, into a hug and turned back to his conversation
neither yuta nor the other person seemed fazed so this seemed like a regular occurrence to them
he teaches her japanese!
its beneficial to both of them because Mae can learn and Yuta won’t forget any Japanese while living in Korea :D
really really really loves his smile
like real whipped (A/N i wrote this while watching the under the sea performance and now im going through it)
like she sees him smile and that makes her smile and that makes fans smile
Can and has glared at “fans” and other people who make her uncomfortable whether it be at the airport or during their schedules
There was this one time Mae was walking ahead of him when there were fansites following them and he just pulled her back into his arms because he noticed an anti of hers was nearby
It’s like a lion trying to protect a kitten
2Young
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again did not know how Doyoung because like a parent to Mae but she just ended up rolling with it
She just has this aura to her that makes you want to care of her and give her love
whenever they go eat together with the group he always put food on her plate, regardless of whether the managers glare at him or not he glares back anyway so they back off
“doyoung she’s been put on a diet-” “she’s going to eat whether you like it or not”
one time Mae got sick with a fever and he just burst into her room with medicine and soup
if taeyong has the “world’s greatest dad” trophy doyoung has the “world’s greatest mom” trophy that he says he’ll throw it away but has it perched on his desk
Mae’s also one of the members who like to clown him
she’s the one of the reasons he already has gray hairs
Mae has a folder of embarrassing photos of Doyoung’s childhood that his brother sent to her and refuses to delete it
she cant do anything about them tho bc Doyoung got his own folder of babie Mae pics courtesy of Mae’s older brother
Haechan has tried and failed to gain access to either of those folders
MaeHyun
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major sibling energy
but not like the bickering kind of energy but more like very soft and uwu
there are a lot of people asking them “are you sure you’re not related?” during interviews and fansigns
Fans are just waiting for the two to do a duet bc come on SM you have a real life Disney prince and princess here
Let Mae be the Jasmine to Jaehyun’s Aladdin and perform A Whole New World together
She likes to poke his dimple
There’s this one vid where Jaehyun and Mae are sitting together and she just pokes his dimple and Jaehyun’s smile gets bigger
joked about if he could let her meet yugyeom and bambam bc of 97line and he just went no <3
when jaehyun was inkigayo’s mc nobody could approach her with the infamous inkigayo sandwich bc she was always with him not like anyone could try considering mae has several bodyguards wherever she goes
you know how jaehyun won the alpaca plushie in nct life? he gave it to mae bc he know how much she loved plushies
Honestly the majority of the plushies in her room were given to her by jaehyun
She has a bear named after him uwu
MaeWoo
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Loves the energy he gives and thinks he’s so funny
He never fails to make her laugh whenever she needs cheering up
they used to be shy around each other when he first joined the group but they caught each other having a midnight snack so they just talked at 3am eating ramen until doyoung found them and told them to go to bed
now it’s just tradition for them to go to a convenience store together and eat ramen or whatever snacks they decide to get
nobody is allowed to join them its only a MaeWoo thing  
Mae has natural aegyo but Jungwoo has taught her to use it to her advantage which she does but not often
Another one of Mae’s cuddle buddies
She just thinks he looks so soft so she just clings to him whenever he’s nearby
Major uwu energy over here when it comes to the two of them together
idk why but i dont see him as the type to be protective when it comes to her dating
he’s more like
“you dont have a boyfriend yet? damn people dont know what they’re missing”
or on the other side of the spectrum
“good luck to your future boyfriend he’ll need it if he’s gonna date you”
2Ma/MaeKyung
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Older brother that doesn’t feel like an older brother
Majority of the time he kinda just feels like they’re the same age or younger so newer fans get shocked when they find out she’s younger
Like there was this one time Johnny the two were playing Smash Bros and Mark was whining because he lost and Mae was jumping in the background cheering it was his fourth loss in a row but he won’t say it
they were kinda awkward around each other at first so johnny literally had to stick them in a room together and didn’t let them leave until they talked to each other
it worked and they just vibed and rambled about different topics like trainee life and what mark’s life in Vancouver was like
speaking of Vancouver
one time during their stay in Vancouver they wanted to have a friend date but he lost her at a mall and took twenty minutes trying to find her until she used the announcement service to call him
he wouldve ask his Vancouver friends to go with them but some of them had a crush on mae so no <3
When she first starting writing songs and her own lyrics she went to Mark first and asked if the lyrics she wrote were good
They were amazing and Mark made sure to tell her that :D
mae’s reaction to his dream graduation was one of the saddest things czennies have seen so when she found out he was coming back she would not let go of him
Literally could not stop smiling whenever mark was with the rest of dream filming for Resonance
It’s just very wholesome and czennies are willing to riot if SM decides to separate them
Maechan
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You know how I said Maehyun was the soft and uwu type of siblings? Well Maechan are the bickering type of siblings
You know the ones who like to bicker over minor things but still would protect each other for life
they have so much dirt on each other on trainee days lmao
Haechan to Mae: lmao what a loser
Haechan when someone insults Mae: listen here you little shit
The only person allowed to clown her is him and the rest of NCT
he heard a trainee talk shit about her once and they still can’t look haechan in the eye
he’s only a few months older than her but he uses the “i’m older!” card whenever he can
“i’m older therefore i get to go first” “excuse me sir but you’re only three months older than me” “but im still older”
they fight for the title of the favorite 127 maknae but they both know that can do what they want
Mae is more lenient towards the hyungs during yaja time than haechan is tho so she just vibes whenever they go to scold him when the games over
they do team up a lot so they’re a menace when they do something together
especially in games
their competitive nature plus their brain power together? its over it even started
50% of the time they have to be separated from each other when it comes to choosing teams
the other 50% is someone choosing both of them because they want that easy win
Those two are willing to risk it all even for a bag of chips
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asweetprologue · 3 years ago
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me lámh le do lámh - Part VI
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Geralt tried to make an effort after that.
It was a fine line to walk, of course. He wanted to be more vocal—more honest—about how much he cared about Jaskier. His deception about the nature of the ritual made him itch to tell Jaskier other things, to bury the lie under a heap of truths. The idea that Jaskier might not know how highly Geralt regarded him, might think that Geralt didn’t care, was unacceptable. No matter how uncomfortable it made him, he began to try and show Jaskier, in small ways, that he wanted him.
He just couldn’t show too much, couldn’t let himself speak the deeper truths of his heart. A fine line indeed.
Initially, Jaskier acted almost suspicious. They stayed by the ruins for three days while his head recovered. His ankle took longer, and Geralt could admit that he was coddling a bit. He forced Jaskier to sit as he made camp and cooked dinner, took away his notebook when Jaskier had been squinting at it for too long in the dusk light. He needed to rest, Geralt insisted, and he couldn’t do that if he was constantly at work. Jaskier was resistant, as always. Geralt had tended him a few times when he’d come down with a particularly nasty cold, and once when he’d been honest to gods poisoned by a rival bard. Jaskier was always petulant, irritated at being cooped up even when he couldn’t keep down anything thicker than broth. He was no better now, fighting Geralt every step of the way to recovery.
Geralt tried to retaliate with affection. He sat closer to Jaskier in the evenings, telling him the stories he craved, watching afterwards as he mouthed words up at the stars to fit new ballads. He told Jaskier that he enjoyed the tune he was humming, and Jaskier had blinked at him like he’d grown two heads. When they finally decided it was time to move on, Geralt offered to let him ride Roach, and Jaskier stood gaping at him.
“Excuse me?” he spluttered. “Did you just say you want me to ride Roach?”
Geralt sighed through his nose. “Was that not clear enough?”
Jaskier leaned against Roach, one arm out to steady himself on the saddle. His ankle still wouldn’t hold his weight for more than a few moments. “I should throw something silver at you,” Jaskier said, “or douse you in holy water. You’ve been replaced by a spirit.”
“Jaskier.” Geralt’s tone was a warning.
“A much nicer spirit,” Jaskier said as he began pulling himself up into the saddle. “A very kind spirit who lets his poor injured friend ride his very sweet, docile horse. Nice Roachy. Please don’t throw me off.”
“She won’t buck you,” Geralt snorted, hiding a grin. He took the reins and began leading them back to the main path, heading southwest. Their next destination, according to Triss, would be just outside of the Brokilon Forest. The last of the moonflax supposedly grew in that area, and hopefully the locals would know how to point them in the right direction. They found their way back to the main road easily enough, and it was several long moments before Jaskier spoke.
“I’m really fine, you know,” he said, and when Geralt glanced up at him, he found Jaskier staring resolutely down the road, a small pinch to his brow. “So you can stop being weird.”
“I’m not being weird,” Geralt said automatically.
“You are,” Jaskier insisted, looking down at him. His eyes squinted at Geralt as if he were trying to see straight through his skull. “And I know it’s coming from some misplaced guilt that you’re carrying around, thinking that it’s all your fault that I got hurt, as if somehow your witcher powers could stop a floor from collapsing—”
“I’m not—” Geralt started, and then bit back the words. He was guilty, and of course Jaskier could sense it on him. It just wasn’t entirely for the reason Jaskier thought. Instead he said, “It’s not about that.”
Jaskier raised his eyebrows in an expression that meant he thought he was about to win an argument. “Then why are you being so nice to me?” he asked, jerking his chin forward cockily. Like he was already sure of the answer.
The question gave Geralt pause, literally. He stopped for a moment on the road, blinking up at Jaskier. His hair was backlit by the noonday sun, his eyes as brilliantly blue as the cloudless sky above them. It was a shame, Geralt thought, that he’d never before seen Jaskier from this angle. He’d have to let him ride Roach more often. “I realized I wasn’t really, before,” he finally said, haltingly. “I mean—I want to be. Nice. Nicer.” He grimaced.
Jaskier’s expression changed to one of blatant shock, and then smoothed into something softer that Geralt couldn’t identify. It made his breath quicken in his chest, catching in his throat. “You’re a good man, Geralt. You don’t have to perform social niceties for that to be true.”
“I meant to you,” Geralt clarified, shifting uncomfortably. They were stopped in the middle of the road now, and he knew he should probably keep going, because if he kept looking up at Jaskier during this conversation it was going to feel a lot more profound than it needed to be. “I don’t really care about what every farmer or lord I deal with thinks of me.”
“But you care what I think,” Jaskier replied, face once again open with surprise. He’d been making that expression a lot lately, Geralt had noticed. Like Geralt kept doing things that made him reconsider his entire worldview.
“Yes,” Geralt said simply, because it was true. “You’re my friend. I should be nice to you.” He quirked a smile, hoping to break the tension. “That’s what Ciri tells me, at least.”
It had the desired effect; Jaskier tossed his head back and laughed, and Geralt was forced to reconcile himself with the long line of his throat. His mouth went dry at the sight, and he forced himself not to move—not to reach out, not to pull Jaskier off Roach’s back, not to press his lips to the pale skin that peeked out of Jaskier’s loose collar. He stayed stock still, until Jaskier looked down at him with a grin. “Ciri is a smart young woman,” Jaskier said, “and I can’t find fault with her argument. Though truly, don’t make any great effort on my account. I know how difficult I can be to tolerate.”
Jaskier’s mirth made something relax in him, and Geralt found himself smiling back. He unstuck his limbs from the ground and turned to continue on, giving Roach’s reins a gentle tug. Jaskier leaned forward at the sudden movement, and Geralt allowed himself one touch, reaching out to put a hand on Jaskier’s thigh, stabilizing him. Wryly, he said, “You really aren’t.”
Jaskier looked down toward him, and leaning forward as he was, they were suddenly much closer than before, and Jaskier’s face was softened again in surprise and— something else. Geralt felt sure, for one crystalline moment, that Jaskier was going to lean down the last few inches to press their lips together. He held his breath in anticipation, and for a moment Jaskier wavered. And then Roach huffed and canted forward a step, and Geralt’s hand jerked where it was clenched white-knuckled around the reins. He leaned back and away, taking his hand off of Jaskier’s thigh, and felt cold despite the warmth of the day. Jaskier straightened in his seat, and when Geralt looked up at him again his face was blank, squinting up at the sky.
Geralt’s hand burned as he started forward again, leading them down the road towards their destination. He had been right, he thought, to avoid touching Jaskier. Every instance was like flying closer to the sun. He couldn’t survive it if he kept pushing his limits.
*
They stopped for the night at an inn. It was unusually vacant; they were far enough south now that the last vestiges of winter had faded behind them, and the roads had been plenty busy. On their way into town they’d passed a large band of travelers—merchants, a cobbler, several families—headed in the other direction, so it was likely they drove off any others passing through the area. The innkeep looked tired, a woman who couldn’t be older than Jaskier but had a full head of gray hair. She gave Geralt a shrewd look when they entered, but was quickly swept up in Jaskier’s charm, especially when he exaggerated the limp a bit.
“Afraid there’ll be no one to play for this evening, my boy,” she said, the thick accent of southern Velen making her words sound like chewed barley. “You’ll have to pay for a full night.”
The rate she gave was fair, not marked up for the presence of a witcher as far as Geralt could tell. They were well off on coin after a drowner contract he’d taken before the ruins. They were always particularly active in the spring, having grown hungry under the ice and snow all winter. Geralt had cleared out at least thirty of them from a lake and its nearby stream, gaining no more than a few shallow claw marks but a hefty bag of coin for his efforts. “The rooms are a touch small,” the innkeep said. “You’ll want two; no chance of sharing with this one’s shoulders as they are.” She nodded to Geralt, her gaze passing over his broad chest. He huffed, annoyed.
Jaskier hummed himself, a slight frown passing over his features. “Are you quite sure? We’re accustomed to sharing, and it would save us some coin—”
“We have coin,” Geralt said, slapping the money down on the counter. Jaskier made a noise of protest that Geralt silenced with a look. “I don’t want to risk fucking up your leg by lying on top of it. Two rooms, one night.” It was fine. They were in no danger of running low on funds. There was no need for them to spend a night in discomfort. “It’s this or the road, bard.”
At that Jaskier pouted and dropped the issue.
*
That night they ate dinner together in the main room of the inn. The food was good, hearty liver sausages with a thin vegetable broth to wash it down, and a loaf of dark oat bread. The ale wasn’t half bad either, even watered down as it was. Once they finished eating, Geralt allowed Jaskier to goad him into a few rounds of Gwent. He never understood why Jaskier wanted to play—Geralt always won handily. Five extra decades of experience and a long tradition of playing for his meals made him the better player by far, and his deck was tournament worthy. Yet Jaskier needled him at least weekly until Geralt gave in and pulled out the cards. Maybe he thought eventually Geralt would let him win. He would continue to be disappointed.
It was, admittedly, hard to concentrate on the game when the light of the fire backlit Jaskier just so, like the halo of some old god. His long fingers worried at the edges of the cards, a terrible tell he couldn’t seem to shake. He always played with the corners of particularly good ones in his hand. Geralt could almost use it to predict the end game totals by this point. Jaskier’s fingernails were a patchwork of color; he’d had them painted sometime while he was staying in Oxenfurt, and the dark burgundy was almost completely chipped away after a few weeks on the road. It was a miracle that the color clung on at all, or that Jaskier had allowed them to remain partially decorated when they lost their perfect shine. Maybe there was a poetic appeal. Something about one’s masks being slowly chipped away, or some such nonsense.
He won the first game. Jaskier begged for best three out of five, and Geralt won the next two games as well. Jaskier finally relented, and the smile on his face wasn’t that of a good natured loser accepting his lot. He said, “I suppose you win again, my dear,” and his eyes were warm as he looked at Geralt.
It was rare that Jaskier could be described as soft in any way. He was boisterous, and excitable, and generally prone to fits of dramatic romanticism or unbridled rage in equal measure. Sometimes he was melancholy, and other times—sometimes when he was very drunk, he was giddy, and he would rope Geralt into unwise activities like they were school children. He was almost never quiet. Even in moments of calm he would be busy moving, strumming his lute or scratching in the margins of his notebooks or singing a new line or two at the stars. But now he was sitting and looking at Geralt over a pile of cards, and he was still. Just looking, chin resting on one hand, as if Geralt’s face held the key to an interesting riddle he was trying hard to solve.
Geralt cleared his throat, feeling unmoored. “Time for bed. Early start tomorrow.”
Like that the spell was broken, and Jaskier rolled his eyes with a groan. “And for what reason? Roach, for one, would deserve the rest. We mustn’t always get up at the first light of dawn, witcher.”
“But we will,” Geralt said, feeling his lips twitch. He turned towards the stairs to hide it, hearing Jaskier’s uneven gait follow after him. He resisted the urge to turn around and offer his arm to assist, knowing that it would only annoy Jaskier and put them in close proximity. Something he was trying his best to avoid.
They parted ways at the doors to their rooms, set next to each other in the hall. They were almost identical, and Geralt wondered if at some point a wall had been constructed down the middle of a room to provide the inn with more to rent out. The result was two cramped spaces, with only enough room for a small bed pushed up against the wall and a trunk across from it. Geralt had deposited his things in the corner before heading back down in search of dinner earlier, and he now set about making sure that his equipment was taken care of. There was a spot on his armor that needed to be reinforced after a drowner had scratched it. The leather was still supple from regular oiling, but he would need a professional to look it over soon. Even so, he was capable of making his own minor repairs until then, backing the fragile spot with spare pieces that he kept for this purpose. The work was grounding in its familiarity. Once he was done he set about sharpening his swords as well. The silver would soon need a new coating; Geralt could see a few places where the darker iron core shone through, where he’d blocked the swipe of a griffin’s talon a month back. A problem for another town.
He could hear Jaskier in the room on the other side of the wall. It was thin enough that there may as well have been no barrier between them whatsoever. He could hear the bard humming to himself, the rustle of cloth as he tossed aside his clothes for the day. No, not tossed—Jaskier was meticulous about his clothes unless roaring drunk or in a haze of academic preoccupation, which tonight he was not. Geralt could almost picture the other man as he carefully folded his doublet over the back of a chair, set his undershirt to hang near the window where it would dry out after the sweat of the day. His pants would be pressed into a neat square and put into his bag alongside his other colorful finery. His hose would be draped near the doublet, his boots neatly set by the door. Dressed down to his braies, he would slip into bed.
The creek of the mattress came from closer to Geralt’s room than he might have expected. The beds must be pushed up against the same wall, mirroring each other.
Geralt slowly and methodically finished his tasks, sliding his swords back into their scabbards and putting them under the bed, within easy reach. With a flick of his wrist, he extinguished the lone candle in the room. He could hear from the noises filtering in from outside that Jaskier’s room had been the one graced with a window. No matter; he could see fine without the added help of the moonlight.
By the time he slipped into the small bed, Jaskier’s breaths had evened out in sleep. His heartbeat was loud through the wall, louder than it usually seemed in their small campsite, with the sounds of the forest drowning it out. The bed really was too small for two, Geralt thought, rolling over to stare at the wall. If they’d shared, they would have had to sleep practically on top of each other. Geralt would have had to wrap himself around Jaskier just to keep him in place. Put his hand over the bard’s heart and felt the rhythm drum out under his fingertips.
He turned around, pressing his back to the wall, listening to the sound of the bard on the other side. His chest ached. The bed felt huge and empty, big enough to swallow him whole. A ridiculous fucking notion. The thing was tiny.
Geralt wondered, really and truly, when it had gotten this bad. When he’d let it get this bad. He pressed his back more firmly against the wall, and fell asleep to the symphony of his own heartbeat matching Jaskier’s one to four.
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laraplisetski · 4 years ago
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Request by @cerealkiller1975 -
So, I saw your post about taking requests for aib. Could you do some Chishiya x female reader, pls? I don't really know your style of writing, but maybe they're in a relationship and work together in the games, maybe meet Arisu in the tag game? 
Dating hcs for Chishiya
Dating Chishiya would be like riding a rollercoaster because mans unpredictable
Well first of all I think he wouldn't date anyone in the first place because it's the borderlands and you're fucked if you care for someone in the borderlands.
But if Chishiya did take enough interest in you to date you, I feel like he would be the biggest tsundere ever.
I'm not even kidding.
He would pretend to not care about you but in the end he would care a lot.
The biggest thing that would come with dating Chishiya is that he wouldn't be very open with you at first.
You would have to understand that he isn't an open person and that you would have to gain his trust.
But when you do, oh boy, you're in for a ride.
And Chishiya picks up on things very easily and he's like the type of person who can get you to spill what's on your mind.
He might not be the most affectionate person but he tries his best okay.
Back to the actual thing-
He wouldn't really want to play games with you at first.
(yk incase you died while playing the same game as him and he couldn't save you)
But one day you two are on the same team and he has no choice but to go with you.
Lowkey is very nervous and hopes to not get a hearts game.
When you get there you see a big building with multiple floors.
You guys walk inside to see three girls, two middle aged men, a guy and a grandma.
Your group picks up their phones but then you notice the guy try to ask one of the girls what this game was about.
‘Better stay away from him right ____’ ‘I mean Chishiya newbies can be very useful-’
‘I wonder if there's a doctor here’ says one of the guys that just entered. 
Hmm interesting, they're looking for a doctor.
‘The game entries are closed now, I wonder what game we'll get. I hope it's not a heart's game.’ Chishiya said.
Lucky for you, you get five of spades. 
Not so lucky for Chishiya, cause mans doesn't look like he's very athletic.
The game is to run away from the tagger.
Now you're an observative person yourself so you start observing everyone.
You see a girl starting to do stretches, that's probably the best thing to do in this situation since spades is a physical game.
Since Aguni is the strongest person out of your group, you suggest that you all go together.
Chishiya and Aguni both disagree so you stick with Chishiya for now.
Both of you decide to take the elevator and stick around on the top floor.
Everything's quiet until you start hearing gunshots, then you sort of start to panic because you're on the top floor running down from the stairs would be suicide and theres no where to go.
But Chishiya calms you down and says just observe.
Now both of you are just half cuddling and half observing the players until a player calls out where the tagger is located and tells the others to do the same so that they can avoid the tagger.
Chishiya- ‘It's a good idea, but no one will respond’ ‘I bet someone will Chishiya’
A minute later we heard a girl's voice calling out telling where the tagger was.
‘Whos right now baby’ ‘oh shut up’
We see an old lady and a girl come across the tagger, the old lady gets shot but the girl starts climbing up the floors.
‘A climber eh, that's pretty useful’ ,Chishiya says.
When there's about 7 minutes left we see that the tagger is shooting someone from the floor above.
That's odd i think, why did the tagger shoot someone from a different floor, he didn't shoot at the other participants that tried to open doors.
Unless he's trying to prevent people from opening that door.
‘Did you get it now _____’ ‘Yeah’ ‘Shall we begin’
Me and Chishiya start making it towards that floor while simultaneously hiding from the tagger.
,Aguni probably went to kill the tagger, that's such an Aguni thing to do, I think while walking towards the door.
When we make it there we see a guy also get there at the same time.
As he is opening the door to the safe zone, I get a feeling that something very bad is gonna happen.
‘Chishiya, baby I have a feeling something is very wrong here, if the tagger wanted to win why didn't he just stay by the door, it would guarantee an absolute win’, I said as I entered.
As we move a little deeper I suddenly see something move in the corner of my vision and out of instinct I move backwards and grab my pocket knife.
Apparently there was another tagger inside the apartment and as soon as the tagger lunges forward I do too and I cut the inside of their knee a little while Chishiya tases them. It's not enough as the tagger gets back up again.
My flight or fight response takes over and I grab Chishiya by the hood and drag him the hell out the apartment.
‘Thanks for saving me’, Chishiya says.
‘No problem baby’
Suddenly the other guy screams out that we cant clear the game alone and that we need two people.
Chishiya tells me to wait for a minute and then we enter.
We see the guy battling the tagger, ‘There's no opportunity for us to go in Chishiya’
Suddenly the climbing girl jumps through the window.
Chishiya throws her the taser and she tases the tagger, I take my pocket knife out and stab the tagger a few times and kick their gun away from them.
With a few seconds remaining the guy and the girl pressed the button and the games finished, we won. 
We all look towards the tagger and I notice it's the same old woman we saw getting killed.
She looks very scared and she starts moving, me and Chishiya stand in the corner watching her.
She looks extremely horrified and as I'm about to ask what's wrong she moves her neck and I see a collar beeping and then her neck blows up.
Some of her blood comes and lands on my face, I almost start crying but I compose myself and exit the room. The guy and girl come out behind me. Chishiya takes a few minutes but he comes out as well.
I ask what the guy's name is and he says it's Arisu, he says that he was transported here with his two friends and that one of them was injured.
I tell him to meet me at the beach with his friend and that I could heal him there, so Me and Chishiya leave after that.
The next time I see Arisu he looks completely broken and I understand why now.
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littlemisslipbalm · 4 years ago
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Little Border Town Pt. 3
Summary: It begins with a man and a woman, as it always seems to. One lives in France and the other lives in Italy, technically, but they’re also neighbors. Various issues arise between these two and they can’t ever seem to see eye to eye on anything. Will they ever move past their petty fighting or is the little town they live in doomed to only gossip about what Harry and Y/N are fighting about today? 
Part 3: the one with the boat and the beginning of a storm
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IT’S BEEN AGESSSS I AM SO SO SORRY I LOVE YALL SO MUCH AND EVERYONE WHO HAS EVER READ THIS THANK YOU FOR BEING PATIENT
also harry is wearing this fit in this part just no tie?? i think i cant remember
college has been incredibly crazy this year already and i just dont have time to write like i did before i went back. i honestly had this mostly finished and i havent reread so i have no idea what even happens so lmk what you think, i can’t imagine that it will get a lot of notes but if it did id be very happy about that - anyways lots of love and feedback appreciated as always...pls enjoy
Word Count: 6.6k | Warnings: ?? Swearing? idek, more yearning bc slow burn
Catch up here! part 1 | 2 |
-
“Isn’t the weather not ideal for boat sailing today,” she ponders as her face looks up at the sky. She’s walking into Harry’s store again after running back to her place to grab a jacket and lock up. She placed a notecard in the door’s window that says “closed today, see you tomorrow” with a smiling face as punctuation.
Harry grins, bouncing on the balls of his feet. He had sailing boots on his feet with a smart big-collared printed shirt and marigold trousers. Instead of a belt, he had suspenders that matched the color of his pants and a pearl necklace as his final accessory other than his rings. He must have repainted his nails this morning because they were a light lavender shade that hadn’t been noticeable last night.
“It’s just fine. We’re entering fall and the sun is out today!” He gestures to the sky above them and she nods in agreement that the sun is indeed out. However she wasn’t sure if she’d categorize it as a nice day to go out on the sea still. With the sun there were also many clouds, they were mostly white and fluffy, but she was sure they could turn sinister any moment.
“Ready?” He beams.
“As I’ll ever be.”
-
On the boat, Y/N felt her stomach churning. Was she giddy or unnerved? Likely, both.
Harry was tying the boat off the dock after helping her onto the deck. It wasn’t a huge boat, not a yacht or anything, but it also wasn’t a tiny sailboat. It had an upper deck where maybe four people - at most - could comfortably be. Then a lower deck, inside a hatch in the upper deck. She couldn’t discern how much space was down there, but she was sure Harry would show her. He was talking through everything he was doing on the boat. Ad nauseum for an extremely nontechnical girl, such as herself.
Still, she sat in the spot he had directed her to next to the closed hatch and watched him move gracefully around the boat. Maneuvering the sails and different parts of the boat was a dance for Harry. Each step, each twist and knot, moved by a song unknown to her. It was beautiful. He was completely in his element, surprisingly. Again, Harry surprised her. She knew he had a boat, but whenever she thought of a jerk with a boat she didn’t think of what she was seeing with her own eyes. It was beautiful - or at least, it would be, if he’d shut his big mouth that was now making her roll her eyes as he made a pun about boats.
“So,” Harry starts finally, finishing up whatever he needed to do to get the boat off the dock and on the path he wanted. They were moving out into open water, she could see the little town, but it was growing smaller by the minute. Her stomach churned again as she looked up at the man she had just trusted to take her out onto the ocean. She grimaced slightly at the thought.
“Do you want to see the inside?” he continued.
She nods eagerly, “Finally!”
He chuckles lightly before opening up the hatch and gesturing for her to go first. She looks at him hesitantly.
“This isn’t a trap right? It’s not going to be all...murder-y down there?” Her voice is pitched higher, she’s almost completely serious.
This time Harry’s laugh comes from his belly, almost doubling over at the word ‘murder-y’. Between laughs, he tries to reassure her. “God no...oh my god.” More laughter, then a deep breath. “The only evil entity on this boat is the diavola I invited on here,” he gestures to her standing in front of him and her eyes narrow. Displeasure washing over her features.
“You’re ridiculous,” her hand swats at his sternum before she turns from him and climbs down to the underdeck area.
When she’s down, she’s surprised with her surroundings and she doesn’t notice Harry follow quickly behind her. It’s neat and stylish. Well, she’s not completely surprised, Harry was very fashionable. But the neatness dissipated all thoughts of the improbable scenario where Harry had lured her on his boat to murder her. It was what she had been freaking out over when she had at first refused to enter.
There was a small daybed at the end of the hall that doubled as a couch, a door to a bathroom, a dining area, a kitchenette, and then the random area they were standing in. It wasn’t super spacious, it was a hallway with things around it, but it was clean and it smelled nice. Everything had a place and they were neatly put in their places. After a moment, she turned at the feeling of Harry’s presence behind her.
He grinned, scanning the areas her eyes had just taken in for the first time. His green eyes were filled with admiration. “Do you like it?”
“Yeah, smells like you.” She nods matter of factly.
“Huh?” His head whips to her, sure he hadn’t heard her right.
“The whole place is very you,” she looks away from him and walks down the hall to the daybed and takes a seat, “Styles-ish.”
He follows quickly behind, shaking his head out of his own thoughts.
He mumbles a thanks, not catching the play on words she’d used with his last name. She smiles to herself, pleased. He stands in the doorway, not really wanting to sit beside her. Maybe he didn’t trust himself with being in such close proximity with her anymore. No, not after last night.
Her eyes widen slightly when he leans against the doorway and crosses his arms. The sleeves of his button-up had been rolled up when he had been working with the sails. Her lips suddenly are dry and she wets them with her tongue, eyes moving to the fabric of the blanket she’s sat on top of.
“I meant to say,” Harry breaks the silence, obviously not a fan of the quiet. A hand leaves his pose and runs through his hair, rings classically tugging at his curls. He swallows before he speaks again, “Thanks, uh, for stopping me last night. That would’ve been weird…”
He trails off and her eyes go wide again, but now they’re trained on his face. His eyes are downcast now, watching the way light plays off his rings. She tries to make out the sound in his voice, the expression he’s trying to hide with indifference. Her teeth tug her bottom lip into her mouth as she thinks, silence once again taking hold of the small, small room. The air is tense, static, unmoving, the complete opposite of the water that rushes just outside the walls of the boat.
She clears her throat and Harry locks eyes with her, “No problem...alcohol and atmosphere, clouds the head. I get it.” She did, but she also hadn’t wanted the gratitude Harry had just placed on her.  
“You booze, you lose,” he smiles, straightening up and she looks at him quizzically.
“That’s such an odd phrase.”
“No it’s not!”
“It’s a play on ‘you snooze, you lose’ right?” She leans forward, face looking smugly up at Harry’s offended face.
“Well, yeah,” Harry admits.
“I can’t believe you made that up and got it tattooed,” She states breezily and then stands. She brushes past him to look around the rest of the cabin.
Harry scoffs, not even noticing the way her fingers had brushed over his naked forearm as she passed, too focussed on his indignation. “How’d you know about the tattoo?”
“Naked neighbor? Never closing his shade? Do you seriously need a refresher course already? Seriously, boat boy, I really thought you were smarter than that,” She talks as she snoops around the different parts of the cabin. She pokes at figurines and looks at little photos and paintings. Her head looks over her shoulder and she laughs happily at Harry’s face of irritation. It was so easy to push his buttons.
“Don’t call me boat boy,” he seethes, but she knows he’s not really mad. More like he’s a child who got told no dessert before dinner. A laugh rocks through her body again and bubbles to the surface. It causes Harry to soften, this time there’s no alcohol in his system to account for the feeling he just felt. He mirrors the smile she has. That is until she reaches the kitchenette and finds a rack of CDs sitting beside the sink.
She turns from him and begins to leaf through them, most of them are artists she recognizes. But then she reaches some that are just titled “Demo” with various numbers beside the word. Her fingers nimbly pick out “Demo #1” and turn back to Harry with an inquisitive gaze. His green eyes are bigger than usual, the smile gone from his face.
“These from the boy band days?” She smiles wider as he turns a little red. She crosses closer to him, remembering the sight of a cd player in the main area where the entrance to the cabin was.
“Erm..no.” She flips around again, confused again, but then it dawns on her. “Demos for my solo work.”
“That you put on hold to take over for your Uncle.”
“Great Uncle.” He corrects.
“I know.” She waited a second, where she was about to be quick to play the CD, she now wanted to get Harry’s permission. It might be a little more personal than she had first thought. “Can we listen to this one? You’d technically be taking me up on the request to play for me sometime.”
“Yeah, they’re rough - obviously. So if you could try to not bruise my ego, at least not more than you usually do,” he grins and she looks at him with dead eyes. A smile cracks on her face quickly, still.
“I wouldn’t...this is different,” she struggles to find the right words. She would never make fun of something he cared a lot about, not now. She wasn’t that person, it was odd to think he maybe saw her like that. She shook away the thought and focused on placing the CD in its player correctly.
The first song begins to play, he’s right it is rough, it’s a demo. There’s no backing vocals or beat of any kind. Just a voice and a guitar. And it’s amazing. After the guitar intro, she lets out a breath she had been holding when she hears the voice. His voice. It’s beautiful. And she’s shocked, her eyes flash to Harry. He’s nibbling at his bottom lip, watching her hear it for the first time. His voice from all those years ago.
“Brooklyn saw me empty at the news, there’s no water inside this swimming pool.”
Her eyes light up again at the lyrics and she smiles, finding it melancholic yet slightly funny at the same time. It was interesting, the words, his voice, the meaning. Some bits of information eluded her, but she knew she enjoyed the song.
“And I’ve been praying, I never did before.”
Even as the song moved on from this one lyric, she felt it replaying in her head as she watched the singer in front of her. Years older than he had been when he had written this song. She was filled with questions and paused the CD as the guitar faded out.
“That’s it?” Harry laughs, “Just one song? It was really that horrible?”
“Oh my god, no!” She is emphatic, needing Harry to understand she’s serious. She takes a step closer to his figure. He had traveled closer to her while the song had played. They were almost chest to chest and her hand goes out to touch his forearm. “I really liked it, genuinely. I just needed a moment before the next one.”
“Bracing yourself?”
“Stop, I’m serious. It was beautiful. Your voice is wonderful, Harry.”
His eyes sparkle at the praise, finally believing she’s not taking the piss. Then his eyes dropped from her gaze, “I was a lot younger then, was 21 I think when I recorded this demo.”
“So? A voice like that doesn’t just disappear, dude.” She looks at him with a finality in her expression before dropping the hand that was firmly gripping his tattooed arm and turning back to the CD player.
Harry bites his lip as another one of his early songs plays over the shoddy speakers. His voice repeats “Meet me in the hallway” over the solo guitar. There’s no echo or bass, no count in like the final song was supposed to have. It’s just him and his guitar, before he chose to leave it all behind.
His voice is sadder here, she notices and she visibly winces at “just take the pain away” and “just let me know, I’ll be on the floor” and his repetition of “gotta get better.”
How did this man, who seemed fazed by practically nothing, have so much hurt in him to write both of these songs? Her eyes welled with water, but she blinked them back still staring at the singer before her. He was watching the CD spin in the player as his voice came through the speakers. He was lost in thought, in memory. Maybe she was lucky, these weren’t memories for her, she was only hearing his interpretation of his life. She hadn’t had to live that pain first hand. This time she doesn’t pause before the next song.
The next one seems more produced than the last two. This one starts with drums, a step up from the last two acoustic demos in respect to production. A big crash and then a wailing guitar and an accompanying voice. His voice is stronger here, more sure of himself. And then it changes again, melancholic once again and her heart strings are yanked at again.
“We’re not who we used to be, we’re just two ghosts standing in the place of you and me, trying to remember how it feels to have a heartbeat.”
The guitar continues that sad tone for a riff and then goes back to strumming beneath his voice. She shifts her eyes to him again and sighs softly, it weighs heavy on her soul that the man next to her has seemingly been through so much heartache. He looks up at “We don’t see what we used to see” and she holds his gaze, brows knit together in confusion and sadness. She pauses this time, finger reaching out without looking.
“This is depressing, please tell me they’re not all sad songs or I might as well have turned on a pet rescue commercial.”
His smile etches on his face, in a small knowing smirk and he crosses into her personal space. She’s about to step back, but he reaches out and softly bats her finger away from the pause/play button. She smiles back, shuffling to lean against the counter beside him. It was unusual for them to be on the same side of the counter, much like last night at the bar.
“There’s six songs on this demo. Three sad, three…” he trails off, looking at her expectantly. She nods. “You gotta learn to be a little less impatient, hmm?”
“Not impatient, just trying to brace myself for more sadness. I thought I had been promised a day of fun,” she grumbles.
“I wasn’t the one who suggested a demo listening party,” his brows raise and she twists her mouth to the side at his smug response.
“True,” she finally concedes with a murmur.
He presses play and a new song comes on that is more upbeat than any of the other’s that have played so far. It also seems to be a bit more produced than the first two. Her hand rests on the countertop and begins to tap, she quirks her brow at the first lyric “she’s got a family in carolina, so far away, but she says I remind her of home.”  A girl who likened Harry Styles to the South of the United States, interesting. As she listens to the lyrics, she smirks at the massive crush he must have had to write this song. The “good girl” lyrics bounce around in her mind and her mind drifts back to last night. Would it have felt good? To kiss Harry?
Then, she’s brought out of her reverie with “I met her once and wrote a song about her”. Her eyes widen and look to Harry again inquisitively as his past self muses over how good this girl felt. He wrote about a one night stand? That woman must have been magic. That was all she had to say about that.
“Really?” She asks incredulously, folding her arms over her chest. His gaze flickers at the movement, human nature. He presses pause.
“What?”
“A one night stand earned that?”
He looked at her seriously, like the answer was obvious. She laughs before continuing.
“You’re a simp.”
“I’m sorry?” He sputters at her statement immediately.
She raises her brows as a response now. Nothing else to say.
“She wasn’t a one night stand,” he defends, “She was a blind date...and it had been after a dry spell.”
She starts to laugh, about to give another snarky response, but he adds, “And I was twenty-one.” The numbers specifically enunciated.
“You’re still a simp in my book...but I liked the song. It was catchy, rock vibes in there. I don’t know about her telling you remind her of Carolina - north or south, I don’t see it.”
He eyes her warily, still not happy with her titling him that gen z term that was super popular all over the internet. He took her in and he knew she was only three years younger than him, he was pretty sure, yet she used ‘simp’ and ‘vibes’ like they were lexicon words. He didn’t hate it, it was just different than what he usually heard in the little border town. Italian not having translations for things like that, English was so interesting, internet language was so interesting.  
“I-” He starts and stops. “She said it. Was she right? That’s not my place to judge.”
“I don’t know,” Y/N pressed, words dragging out playfully, “Personally, I wouldn’t want to be a reminder of the U.S. South, but okay...simp.”
“I swear to god if you call me that one more time, I’m throwing you overboard and I won’t feel bad about it.”
Her eyes widen and then she smiles, he cracks a smile too. They huddle back around the CD player, ready for the next song. It starts with a strong guitar and drums, again well produced compared to the acoustic earlier ones.
His voice in this is far more shaky, unsure of himself again. “Let me take my medicine, take my medicine, treat you like a gentleman,” comes through the speakers. She shivers and looks at him, her fingers tapping along to the beat. The instruments are strong where his voice is soft, it doesn’t exactly fit, but she likes the lyrics still. When it gets to the pre-chorus, that’s when she knows she loves the song.
“I had a few got drunk on you and now I’m wasted, and when I sleep I’m gonna dream of how you (tasted)”
When his voice pitches high for ‘wasted’ she loses it. Her body moves with the instruments and her eyes close and her head wiggles. Harry smiles happily as she dances for the first time to one of his songs. The last word must have been shouted by his bandmates, because she doesn’t hear him say it.
Then the chorus hits and she wonders how it got even better. Her eyes shoot open and she just stares at Harry, her jaw slightly dropped.
“If you got out tonight, I’m going out tonight cause I know you’re persuasive! You got that something and I got me an appetite now I can taste it”
His past self sings of getting dizzy and his voice moans into the mic the demo was recorded on. She’s blown away. It sounds so hot, his voice gaining confidence during the pre-chorus and the chorus to have an all around rockstar sound.
The present Harry just taps his rings together as he watches her, studying her reaction with an even-tempered expression. Why isn’t he screaming like she is on the inside? When it gets to the second verse she’s bracing herself for what’s to come. This song has her pulse racing and blood flowing wildly around her body. She’s buzzing from it.
“The boys and the girls are in, I mess around with him and I’m okay with it”
The electric guitar follows the line up and she thinks she’s going to pass out on this boat right now. Flamboyant Harry. Was this what Marie had been talking about. The wild side of Harry she really had never seen, embodied in one song. She wanted more of it. Still all she got was the Harry on the demo rocking out to his song. She can hear him smiling through the recording, the sad boy from a few songs ago was now feeling euphoric. She just wanted to dance the night away with him.
Then another pre-chorus: “I’m coming down, I figured out I kinda like it, and when I sleep I’m gonna dream of how you (ride it)”
His voice goes high again for ‘like it’ this time and her question of what is to follow is quickly answered with the bandmates screaming ‘ride it’ into the mics they must have had. It’s punctuated with the drums and other instruments. A noise escapes the back of her throat and Harry looks at her both smugly and amused. She rolls her eyes in response, trying to convince Harry that she hadn’t just had images of him singing about how good someone rides him flash in her mind. Even more so with the images of someone, namely her, being the object of his dreams. Doing the things he said he’d dream of. That, that was definitely not what she was thinking about. Definitely not. Her throat was dry and she swallowed hard. Harry’s eyes never left her face. Watching every reaction, gauging it and storing the information elsewhere for the time being.
She sings along to the chorus, trying to focus on the song, it was easy to pick up, but then the damn moans. And then there’s a guitar solo that sounds like sex itself and she’s baffled that this was an unreleased demo, not a famous rock song. Harry in front of her can’t stop himself from tapping his feet at this part, a little dance forming on his body as his eyes finally leave her figure. They close as he feels the music, the memory of his friend playing the riff clear in his mind and how much he had loved it. It builds up again and then there’s a final chorus. She watches him now as he dances in the confined space. His mouth opens to sing along to the “la la la’s”
It ends and goes straight into another upbeat song. It seemed like a complimentary song to the one that had just played.
“I don’t want your sympathy, but you don’t know what you do to me, oh Anna!”
His voice sings strong again. Harry before her composed himself again, going back to his watching position. He took in her tapping and smiling to the song. He also mouths the words slightly as it plays, the lyrics clear as the day he finished writing them almost 4 years ago. One of the final ones for this demo.
“Hope you never hear this and know that it’s for you, don’t know what I’d tell you if you asked me for the truth”
She smirks at him, now, with the earnest lyrics, about to say something, but then notices the change in the guitar. It switches from the epic riff that was going to a more familiar tune, “Faith” by George Michael. She looks at him, a cheesy grin on her face as the voice begins to sing the chorus of that song. Her body begins to dance to it, like an old man doing the twist. She’s not ashamed and Harry loves it and joins her by mirroring the movements.
When the song comes to an end, they’re one large giggling mess. She falls into his arms and he holds her steady, their laughter coming out with freedom.
“Thanks for making me be patient,” She looks up at him, “it was worth it!”
He smiles, backing up slightly, “It’s like I knew what I was talking about.”
“Ok smart guy,” she teases with a silly voice. “I’m assuming whoever Anna is, isn’t actually named Anna then...?”
Harry hums and makes a twitch of his brows, but doesn’t respond. Instead he grabs her hand and she squeaks slightly, he pulls her to the ladder and prompts her to go up. She obliges silently and lands back on the top of the boat now. She looks out and sees the little town to be off in the distances now, shining blue water all around the creamy white boat.
Harry stands behind her now and shuts the hatch easily. She looks at him warily, confused by his silence. He extends his hand to her this time and she takes it. He leads her to the front of his boat. They’re moving, but so slowly you’d barely notice. There’s a loveseat of sorts right at the front and Harry sets her down in it. She smiles at him with caution, still bewildered. He leans against a part of the boat that stands in front of the seat.
“It’s beautiful, right?” He asks.
Her eyes have been looking around her, but they’ve mostly been trained on Harry. She was mesmerized by him now. His music, his boat, his clothes, his everything. She was seeing him in a new light. In a completely brand new way that had her unable to take her eyes off of him.
She nods finally when Harry looks at her expectantly. “It’s amazing,” she breathes.
His smile is the half-sided grin again. Beautiful big teeth on display with a little part of space between them. His dimple pops out and once again her eyes are on his face. She realized going on this boat with Harry might not have been such a good idea.  
He folds his arms, her eyes flicker down. Every movement he makes, she doesn’t want to miss it. Even if she also is telling her mind to shake it off, she can’t. It’s like a spell.
“Obviously Anna is a pseudonym,” he says finally, eyes watching where the boat was taking him. She nods in approval. He pauses, watching the little waves, but she knows he has more to say.
“What did you think of the rest of it?” He asks quietly, gaze never going back to her. He knew she’d teased him a little and had danced along to some. She’d looked at him with wide eyes at some lyrics, but he wanted to know what she really thought.
She can tell he’s nervous, but she doesn’t understand why. They were all very good songs, his voice was beautiful, the lyrics were interesting. She didn’t understand his lack of confidence. His first time not exhibiting his usual self-assured - self-absorbed, even - personality. She bites her lip in confusion and his brows knit together, further showing his apprehension. The wrinkles in his forehead show up more prominently and she’s reminded that Harry is 26. He’s a different person now then he was back when he recorded that demo. Maybe there was a reason he kept them on the boat. She felt unsure in her response now.
“They were all great, Harry.” His face softens immediately. “Each one was beautifully written and sung. The ones that were acoustic sounded wonderful as did the ones with your whole band. I’m honored to be someone who got to hear those masterpieces.”
She wanted to tell them they should be famous songs, but she had a feeling that might not have the effect on him that she wanted. He had chosen a little quiet life in the little border town. She didn’t think he would want to hear how his music could have made it big time.
“Thank you,” he murmurs, just about the sounds of the sea. He lets a closed mouth smile twist onto his face, but it feels like he doesn’t fully believe her. She wants to kiss his worry away, but again, she knows it’s not possible. His words from earlier rang in her head. It would make things weird. Yeah, you’re right. Ugh, why had she agreed. She didn’t agree, not at all, not anymore.
“Did you have a favorite?” He stands up straighter with his question.
She laughs slightly, “I liked the second to last one a lot. It was hot.”
“Hot how?” He steps closer, smirking.
She jumps up from her reclined seat, in indignation, “Oh come on, you know it’s hot. Now you’re just looking for me to stroke your ego! It’s obviously about sex.”
“And? You’re the one who’s saying it’s your favorite and blushing.” He arches a brow at her, arms going to his hips and looking at her teasingly.
“Well, you’re the one who was singing about sucking dick and dreaming of how someone rode you.”
“Is that what it’s about?” His voice raises as he purses his lips and raises both of his brows.
She realizes just how worked up he’s gotten her in such a short amount of time. She huffs and turns away from him with a flick of her hand. “You’re infuriating.” Is all she can say. She looks out at the waves now, ignoring Harry even though he’s less than a foot away.
He’s laughing behind her for a little. Then when she doesn’t turn around, he quiets and she’s not quite sure where he’s gone. Then his breath fans over her neck and right shoulder, where her jacket hasn’t managed to cover her. It’s warm and a little minty as the scent travels over the salty sea air. She doesn’t turn or move a muscle for that matter.
A hand reaches out to her shoulder, but still she makes no move to turn. It rests there for a minute and she simply huffs again, letting her shoulders rise and fall dramatically. A single laugh slips from Harry’s mouth.
“C’mon diavola, don’t be like that. S’all in good fun.” His voice is low in her ear, sultry even. It reminds her of his voice in that song once he got into it. His voice sounds like sex in her ear and this time when she sighs it’s not because she’s irritated with him. No, she wants him. The sigh has an undercurrent of that desire and she hopes Harry doesn’t understand that. But otherwise she stays quiet, letting him murmur into her ear with his hand on her shoulder and his chest pressed to her back now. The only witness of this exchange is the ocean before them.
His head leans closer and if she didn’t know any better it felt like he was about to press a kiss to her neck. Instead all she feels is the brush of his mustache, it tickles the shell of her ear and she can’t keep in the giggle. She twists away from the sensation and Harry is grinning at her when she faces him.
His hand still on her shoulder and his body still pressed close to hers. He’s so warm and so close and so shiny new in her eyes, even if he still manages to irritate her. Her eyes flicker up to his as their laughter quiets down. She realizes her own hands have gone to his waist to steady herself and she follows his feet as he backs them up from the edge of the boat that she had brought them too.
It’s quiet again. They’re staring at each other intently. Her eyes are swirling with emotion because she just wants to know what’s going on in the brain of the man before her. She wants to know everything about him, but she knows that’s not how he feels about her. Sure, they’re friends now, but nothing else.
Why did she have to come on this stupid boat and find his stupid amazing music? Why did he have such a stupid amazing face?
These questions and other silly things were racing around her head as she gripped his waist. He didn’t mind her quietness, he found her gaze to be a little unnerving, but he was just glad he had made her laugh. He found that he didn’t enjoy her anger at him as much anymore.
Just as he was about to start another conversation, there was a cloud that drifted over the shining sun. It was her original fear come to life. Harry’s brows furrowed as he looked up at the clouds. They were turning grey. Fast.
“Shit, shit, shit,” He began mumbling and released his hand from her shoulder. He pulled away from her hold and began moving swiftly around the boat. He needed to get them off the water, there was a storm coming.
Her eyes went wide as she noticed the approaching storm as well. Her brows furrowed with worry as she watched Harry begin working on the boat, his only words being curses to himself at first.
Then he enlists her help, asking her to hold onto a specific part of the boat for him after he threw her a life vest and made her put it on. She wore it with great dissatisfaction. He only shrugged as he continued to move nimbly around the boat, turning them around, back to the dock.  
The boat moved much swifter into the shore than it had on their way out. The waves were growing choppier by the minute and she would admit she was more than a little scared. Thankfully, Harry knew what he was doing and got them there quickly and safely. Once at the dock, he tied them there and then helped her off the boat. She stood on the dock uncomfortably as the rain started to come down.
“Give me your lifevest!” He gestures from the boat.
She quickly takes it off and flinches when the first bout of thunder sounds from far off. He takes it from her and throws it haphazardly down the hatch along with his own before jumping off the boat himself. He surveys the boat from the dock to make sure he hasn’t forgotten anything. Then he looks at her. She’s wrapped her arms around herself and is ducking her head, looking like she’s attempting to ward off rain but failing miserably.
She looks up at him and he offers a soft smile of reassurance.
“Take my hand!” He shouts slightly over the growing sound of rain and thunder. He wants to get them out of the rain, but he’s also apprehensive to leave his boat to the mercy of the weather. Still, that’s all he can do.
She puts her hand in his and his fingers weave with hers. Then, they’re off racing back to their street in the little border town.
-
“I should go back to my place!”
“Don’t be silly! France is much too far for you to go in this weather!”
She laughs and grips his hand tighter as he fumbles for his key. His wet hand slipping as the rain droplets soak their clothes and skin. Even though her door is a mere few feet away she allows Harry to pull her into his shop. The warmth and dryness appreciated after running a few blocks in the now torrential downpour. There weren’t storms often in the little border town, but like the old adage said ‘when it rained, it poured’ quite literally. The less she had to travel in the rain the happier she was, even if it was three measly feet.
It also occurred to her that she’d be able to sit out her first storm with someone by her side. And she would admit that didn’t sound like the worst thing in the world. She wasn’t necessarily a fan of storms and being in a new place with a storm she’d never weathered before was daunting. Harry inviting her in was a blessing. She didn’t have to be asked twice.
Once inside the little shop, their wet frames begin to form puddles beneath themselves. Harry sighs and takes off up his rickety stairs. She looks after him in confusion but stays put when he calls a quick “Wait there!”
She shakes a bit of the rain from her and shivers as she listens for Harry’s movements barely audible above the crashing of the rain water. When he returns, her breath catches in her throat, like she just choked on something, yet there’s nothing.
As he walks down the steps, far slower now, his wet hair shakes out around his head forming some ethereal halo. The light from upstairs illuminates him and the darkness outside casts an ominous darkness as he descends.
“Un ange…” She whispers after finally catching her breath.
If he hears her, it doesn’t matter. He’s already beginning to smile widely just from seeing Y/N before him.
He skips the last step and crosses to her swiftly. “Let’s get you dried a little more,” he begins to dote. A matching smile spreads on Y/N’s face out of appreciation. She still can’t manage to fend off the shivering and Harry’s smile falters. His hands leave the towel and trace her exposed skin. Her cheek feels like ice, only slightly warming under his touch.
“You need dry clothes,” he mumbles.
Her eyes widen as she looks up at him. He’s so close and so attentive and she wants to ask him to kiss her because they’ve been going back and forth all day, but he’s right she’s freezing. His eyes are so intense though she can’t even maintain eye contact. Instead her gaze flits up to the droplet beginning to swell down one of his rogue strands of hair that flopped over his forehead moments ago.
She doesn’t respond as she watches and Harry begins to worry more. Her eyes seemingly unfocused, her shivering, and her silence. He thumbs over the apple of her cheekbone and finally breaks her reverie. The droplet splashing between them without her as its audience.
“C’mon,” he tugs her hand now to bring her upstairs.
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gothamslittlejester · 4 years ago
Text
SFW Alphabet with Phoenix!Joker and Ledger!Joker
Hello, I am not dead. I’m really sorry I haven’t posted in forever, so here’s a pretty long piece for both the clownbois to make up for it for you guys (hopefully,, aghhh). I hope my joker license has not been revoked lol, forgive me lovelies.
The characters will be written separately, but feel free to imagine them together if you wish! I just thought writing them both at once made for an interesting comparison. Phoenix!Joker will be referred to as Arthur, and Ledger!Joker as J. I didn’t do all the alphabet letters because some were repetitive, so here’s the ones I thought would make good headcannons!
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A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)
Phoenix!Joker
· Out of the two, Arthur is considerably more affectionate. Being so deprived of love for so long, he doesn’t hesitate to absolutely smother you in affection 24/7, whether that be through kisses, long hugs and warm smiles, or more subtle actions like helping you clean around the house or washing your hair in the bath. He may be a killer clown, but he can’t help dotting on you every time you’re together.
· He also praises you any chance he gets, cooing in your ears how amazing you are and how much you mean to him. He wants you to feel loved in every way possible, both verbally and physically.
· His favorite way of showing affection is making you laugh or cheering you up whenever you’re down. Bad jokes? Cute magic tricks? Running your boss over with a truck? He knows the blues can come and go as they please and they can really affect your whole mood, so he makes sure to always bring some happiness in your life.
Ledger!Joker
· J shows his affection in much more subtle ways, although with time you find yourself picking up on them effortlessly. He may not always vocalize his affection, but there’s no denying his adoration for you.
· He’s very playful with you; tickle fights, wrestling matches, pinching your ass and ruffling your hair are all things you grow accustomed to, and they never fail to make you laugh. If you blush or squeak in response to his antics, J will think it’s the cutest and funniest thing in the world. He’ll only be more encouraged to get that response out of you next time, so good luck to you.
· At night, his displays of affection shift from playful to more protective and domineering. If he’s feeling suddenly possessive of you, he envelops you in a protective hug and pulls you into his chest. His side of the bed will always the one closest to the door in case of trouble.
· His affection is very physical, and will often be shown through actions. He’ll take care of any inconvenience you have- someone bother you, sweetheart? You never see them again.
B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)
Phoenix!Joker
· Arthur will always be there for you, listening to you vent for hours, helping you with any little chore or problem you have and just chilling with you by the television for hours. He’s never had someone to confide in and care for him, and every understanding look and encouraging smile you give him is stored in a special place in his heart.
· Not only is he a great listener for you too, but his advice is never halfhearted. If you have a problem, or something you’re uncertain about, he’ll do his best to help you sort it out until you’re confident again. He’ll be there for you no matter what, because you’ll be there for him too.
Ledger!Joker
· Now, Having J as a friend is extremely chaotic and often leads to him dragging you away to join him on some illegal adventure at 3 in the morning. Are you gonna go rob a bank or go scare the elderly? Who knows, who cares! Just get dressed and join him!
· Philosophical conversations with J are incredible. He never dismisses your ideas or thoughts of the world, encouraging you to always speak your mind, filter free. There’s no need to hide from him, ever.
C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)
Phoenix!Joker
·  When he cuddles you, Arthur feels like all his problems just melt away, and therefor will not let go of your body for hours. It’s therapeutic and heals his soul in a way that his medication never could.
· His little secret is that he loves it when he’s the little spoon, or just generally being cradled by you. Lying on top of your chest just to hear your heartbeat? Absolute heaven.
·  His favorite thing to do is to rub his nose in the crook of your neck and take a big breath, relishing in your scent. It makes him feel so safe and loved he could cry, and during bad days he probably has. Even after he turned into Joker, it would take a bulldozer to rip his grabby hands away from your warm body. Due to how frail and cold his body is, he’s not the epitome of a teddy bear, but the amount of love and comfort that radiate off of him is enough to make for that. It’s nothing a warm blanket can’t fix, and his kisses are the warmest all year round.
Ledger!Joker
· Now, J would never admit it, but he’s just as big of a cuddler as Arthur. I know, I know, controversial! But there is no way you can convince me that this man isn’t an attention seeking, touch starved, hug deprived needy little asshole. Having you wrap your arms around him in the middle of the night, melting into his body with a satisfied sigh, is cocaine to him. Feeling you playfully jump on his back and embrace him from behind makes J want to blow up the city for you. He’ll do it too, don’t tempt him.
· Only difference is, he much more prefers it when you initiate it- seeing you all needy and pouty for him just makes him so giddy. What’s that Y/N? You’re desperate for him? Well, I guess he can hold you in his arms, since he’s so generous...
· Of course, he’s not shy either, and will get his way if need be. If you sit more than 2 inches away from him on the couch you’re instantly pulled onto his lap, and don’t even think about falling asleep without being buried in his side. He wants to feel loved, dammit!
K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)
Phoenix!Joker
· Arthur’s kisses are soft and dotting, always gentle and loving. He often moans into the kiss and pulls you closer, never getting enough of you. They can be desperate and needy after a long day away from you, but they are generally very sweet and slow.
· He likes to press kisses all over your face and cheeks, liking the way you giggle as he peppers them all over you. He really cant get enough of you, and just the knowledge that he has someone in his life that enjoys being intimate with him leaves Arthur completely awed.
· He’ll take any sort of kiss from you without complaint, but his favorite is when you’re holding him from behind, either in bed or in the bath, and press a gentle one to his back. It makes him feel loved and safe, which he hadn’t felt in a long time.
Ledger!Joker
· When J kisses you, he truly does steal your breath away. All his passion, obsession and need for you are conveyed effortlessly with the way he moves against your mouth and wraps his arms around your body in a protective manner.
· Although oftentimes rough and sensual, his kisses can also be very teasing and playful. He’ll kiss your hand in a romantic manner just to see you blush and shake your head, or leave little hickeys down neck that he likes to kiss again later. He’s also not opposed to licking you, so watch out for that.
· He’ll never admit it, but he loves it when you lean up to kiss his cheek. It’s such a sweet and gentle action, something he’s not accustomed to whatsoever, and it leaves him feeling very warm and protective inside. Especially when your lips brush against his scars- knowing you love them and want to show them affection makes J want to kill for you.
L = Little ones (How are they around children?)
Phoenix!Joker
·Arthur loves being there for children, especially the less fortunate ones. Despite how crazy and ruthless Joker can be, he would never even dream of laying a hand on a child.
· There are times when he remembers the joy that his old persona “Carnival” could bring to the sad young faces of all those kids, and it’s enough to make him grimace and reminisce on what he lost.
· He’d never expect to start a family with you while he’s out being criminal menace as a full time job, but there are times where he allows his imagination to run wild, picturing a world with a better life for the both of you, his children playing in the garden while you grow old together.
Ledger!Joker
· J... J is a bully. He doesn’t have the patience whatsoever to deal with children at all, and overall just finds their incessant questions mind-numbing. They’re not even good questions- questions that provoke a philosophical debate or reconsideration of our purpose in the universe for example- just dumb ones that can be googled in a second. Why is the sky blue? Give him a break.
· Now, He wouldn’t go out of his way to single out a child and brutally kill them- he wants his victims to fully understand their doom, and kids don’t have that level of comprehension yet- but if one of those smug little shits happened to be carrying around a balloon, ho ho! It’s getting popped on sight. You know that saying “steeling lollipops from babies?” Yeah, that’s J.
· May not be a big fan of kids, but if you ever need a top quality dead baby joke, he’s your guy!
M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)
Phoenix!Joker
· Having had so many jobs in his life, Arthur has adapted to waking up in the early morning with ease.
· If he has to go somewhere, he’ll quietly tiptoe around the apartment as he gets ready, careful not wake you up as he gets dressed in his red suit and applies his makeup. He’ll place a gentle kiss to your temple just before he has to leave, staring adoringly at your peaceful face for a few minutes.
· If he has nothing planned, Arthur will just lay in bed until you wake up naturally, enjoying the feeling on your arm body pressed against him.
Ledger!Joker
· J is a drama queen. Being mostly nocturnal, J doesn’t even get out of his REM sleep cycle until like 3 pm at the earliest.
· On those days where he gets woken up at, god forbid, 9 am, he’ll be so groggy and grumpy that not even coffee can save him.
· Alarm wakes him up? That’s now enemy number one. Someone outside being loud? If he had the energy, they’d be dead. And don’t think you’re getting out of bed without him either. He’ll pull you back and wrap all his limbs around you like a snake, snuggling into you so you can’t leave.
P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)
Phoenix!Joker
· Arthur only really gets angry when someone attacks him or tries to make him feel worthless. As Joker, he’s definitely gained quite a bit of confidence, and will start a fight with strangers for the smallest of reasons, but they rarely actually make him angry.
· His patience in general is actually quite remarkable. Most of his schemes and plots take quite a while to plan out, and although he does rely on luck here and there, he puts in quite a few hours at a time to flesh out the details.
· He’ll wait as long as he needs to get what he wants. For example, it’s not like he shy’s away from stalking people, and that takes quite a bit of resilience and patience.
Ledger!Joker
· J is... an emotional man. An open book. He almost never gets angry at you- unless you do something stupid like put yourself in harms way- but everyone else? All it takes is very trivial inconveniences to get him riled up and ready to murder some poor soul on sight.
·  He’ll be patient for a while if he needs to work on some elaborately villainous scheme, but after a few days of obsessing over the schematics he’ll start to get antsy and bored. He’s a man of action, who has the time for all this planning?
T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)
Phoenix!Joker
· Arthur would do his very best to make dates and anniversaries special. Dinner from your favorite restaurant, long walks by the place you first met, movie nights under a warm fort with intermediate pillow fights; Arthur will always find something that will put a smile on your face.
· He may not have that much money to begin with, but after adapting into his joker persona, a little bit of petty theft is nothing too unacceptable. Especially since he can use the extra cash to treat his lover to the most lavish things.
Ledger!Joker
· J would absolutely spoil you. Unfortunately due to his “job”, he has to leave you for hours or even days at a time to do his business, and he knows you tend to feel lonely in those times. So for him, date night is about you. And he’ll be damned if you don’t get the best present, meal and clown in Gotham all to yourself.
·  You want your favorite snack? He’ll get you a bucket-full.
· You want that new dress you saw at the mall, but can’t afford it? Neither can he! Join him for some late-night theft and he’ll grab the garment just for you.
· You want to spend the whole night tucked away in his arms as he cuddles you for hours? “Come to daddy~”
U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)
Phoenix!Joker
· Arthur sometimes forgets to eat, a habit that scares you. You don’t mean to nag, but you just can’t help it when you see how thin and weak Arthur becomes after barely eating anything.
· You know he doesn’t do it on purpose, and you never hold it against him, but it does scare you when you see how weak and exhausted he gets. You make sure to always fill the cabinets with snacks and get him to eat dinner whenever he’s home, but who knows if he eats while he’s out causing panic in Gotham.
· The smoking is also a bit of an issue, but you’d rather make sure your clown is well fed before you tackle this other issue.
Ledger!Joker
· J’s teeth can be... very much a turnoff sometimes. Stained to hell with a coffee addiction and lack of hygiene, it made kissing him an experience at first.
· He soon began trying to make himself more dapper and charming just for his little one (yes you) once his need for you grew, but sometimes he just forgets. He knew his hygiene wasn’t his best quality, and he often smelled like dried blood and gasoline, so he makes sure to take a shower when he can. Plus, he figured quite quickly that you like the smell of his cologne…
· You can’t be too mad though, not with a smile so bright and yellow it matches the sun!
W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)
Phoenix!Joker
· For Arthur, yes. When you finally admitted your feelings for him, he knew you were the first and last person who will ever give his life meaning. He would rip out his lungs if you asked- just if it meant seeing you another day.
· Leaving him would break his soul and put him in such a dark, black space that not even Joker’s red suit would have color there.
· It’s not the healthiest, and he doesn’t want to scare you away, but his obsession and need for you will never die down. He loves you, and you really do make him whole.
Ledger!Joker
· For J, his feelings aren’t that far off from Arthur’s. As his obsession with you grows, so does his adoration and glee. Everyday he finds new quirks and traits of yours that he likes, and everyday he begins to expect them, to crave them, to need them.
· He’ll find out what you like to do, what your favorite things are, what makes you truly and utterly happy, and he’ll store them in his memory to spoil you later.
· J’s love is absolutely obsessive and possessive, like a child with a doll he refuses to share even for a second, but that’s all he knows. He’ll never hurt you or lay his hands on you, but his love is nothing short of mad.
·  Leaving him is not an option. Ever. He’ll do anything to ensure that you stay right in his line of sight, and putting you in a pretty glass cage is not beyond him. You make him happy, and whole- you complete him- so why would he ever throw that away?
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what-the--curtains · 4 years ago
Text
In a Week
Part 3/4 - Snowballs and cigarettes
(Frankie Morales x f!reader)
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Summary: The snows finally stopped and its about time you got to work unburying your car. With your friends all prompting you to move on from your toxic ex you find yourself becoming more and more aware of the kind of person you’d want to be with. And how Frankie was ticking all those boxes.
Authors notes: Ugh okay I was over the max block text so the finale is split into two parts!! But you get them both tonight💕🌻💕 .
Warnings: mentions of toxic relationships, allusions to sex (nothing depicted), PTSD, smoking, drinking, swearing
Tagged: @agingerindenial @icanbeyourjedi
Word count: 4.0k
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Day 4
It had only been three days but you had found yourself in a routine that you hoped you never fell out of. Each morning he’d wake up first and you’d be predictably wrapped around him for another 2 hours or so. He found it hard to believe you were able to wake up before 10am, let alone that you were up at 5am most days but he’d love to be around to see it happen. For the first time, he saw something he’d long given up on. A future with someone else ingrained into his and his daughters life. Maybe it was stupid feeling this way after a few days, but he was old enough to know when he felt a real connection, and he’d never felt as good as he did when he was with you. He would make his feelings known to you, one way or another, he’d regret it forever if he let you slip through his fingers. He just had to find the right time to do it. It had been a long time since you’d woken up with someone in the same bed as you and even longer since the person was someone who made you feel safe and secure. There was something calming about knowing that even if you pushed your freezing cold feet between his calves in the middle of the night he wouldn’t get angry, or push you off he’d just grumble and pull you closer.
It sounded pathetic but it was the nicest a guy had been to you in years. You knew how stupid it was to catch feelings this fast, and it definitely wasn’t like you to feel such strong emotions. Since the funeral you had actively decided to forego them although. This benefited your work, helped you in your field, made you a better doctor, but keeping all your emotions bottled up took its toll. Primarily on your love life. You’d had your fair share of flings with other residents, nurses, friends of friends, but between classes and shift work there wasn’t time. Plus what was the point when you had no idea where you’d be moved to. At least that’s what you told yourself. Then Jonathan came along and you’d let him in, let him know you and you fell for him in the process. Then he’d started dating someone else, told you he didn't realize you were exclusive, and it shattered you completely. You’d pieced yourself back together and once you were better, once you were finally over him, he’d cycle back round to you, determined to keep you on retainer. The whole ordeal had left you tired. You’d never had a real relationship and you were already done with them. You never understood how people would want to live with someone for the rest of their lives until now. Catching feelings had always happened in periphery to your life making it easy to push by a crush by simply avoiding them, but you couldn’t avoid Frankie. Each day you spent trapped inside with him he’d continued to grow on you, cementing your feelings for him tenfold. You yawn and stretch your leg out over Frankies torso propping yourself up onto your elbow so you can reach over him and grab the glass of water on the nightstand. He exhales as if your movement across him is an inconvenience to his meticulous strategy for winning whatever game he was playing on his phone. You take a sip and put the cup back down, rolling off the bed and opening the curtains.
“Hey!” you shout, causing Frankies head to shoot over to you, “It stopped snowing!” you exclaim, gazing out over the parking lot where the snow had fallen. The powder undulating overtop the cars buried beneath it. You stretch your arms up catching an unsavoury whiff coming from your armpits causing you to pull a face. Turning around just in time to see Frankie laughing from the bathroom door.
“Seriously man? Do you have to beat me to everything!” you pout, crossing your arms over your chest.
“Gotta be faster sweetheart.” he says, closing the door behind him. From anyone else the term would have driven you into a rage induced frenzy, but it was endearing not condescending coming from him. You take the time to call Stella, you’d been texting with her since you got stuck but you felt it was time to officially announce your arrival as permanently cancelled.
“Hey girl”
“Hey babe what's going on? You calling with good or bad news?” she asks, a constant bustle evident in the background.
“Don’t shoot the messenger, but only bad news on my end. I am so fucking sorry, I should have just flown down like you said” you offer, leaning back against the window allowing the chill of the outside to cool you off.
“Well this is why you should always listen to me, but i’ll forgive you just this once.” she laughs.
“God I can’t believe the one wedding I actually care about I’m going to miss!” you exasperated, shifting away from the window and flopping down onto the bed.
“Well I definitely won’t miss you, especially considering you’ve already sent a gift.” she teases.
“How, very dare you” you punctuate.
“Yup long con paid off, 10 years I pretended to like you just to get you to buy me a toaster from ebay” Stella laughs.
“You could have just stolen mine after the first year, then you could have had me gone!” you state.
“Ugh a huge mistake!!” she overemphasizes dramatically, causing you both to burst out laughing.
“So….” you say after your giggles subside leaving a gentle ache in your ribs that always occurred when you talked to Stella.
“What?” she asks, sniffling.
“ Did John make it out there?” you ask, in a painfully transparent way.
“Why?” she spits, her tone suddenly lethal. She hated the guy, she was the one who was always left dealing with you after he’d used you up, helping to piece you back together, just in time for him to get a hold on you again.
“He asked about me?” you query, once again failing to convey your intentions.
“I’m not indulging this anymore, it's bad for you. He’s bad for you, there's only so many times I can watch him emotionally manipulate you” she rants.
“Ya, but it's easy and it's so good with him.” you emphasize.
“It’s not easy, take it from someone in an easy relationship, it's not supposed to hurt that much.” she chides, determined to have you see the light.
“But..”
“Nope, I'm drawing the line for you, find someone else. You’re a gorgeous single doctor,
“Almost doctor” you interrupt, but the statement is ignored.
“Aren’t you currently shacked up with one of my stupid brothers friends?”
“Yes? And?” you say, your heart suddenly beating faster as your head turns to see Frankies hat on the nightstand.
“Frankie right? Statue like, soft curls, kind, deep brown eyes? And don’t pretend like you didn’t notice I know you like the back of my hand!”
“So what if I have, doesn't mean..” you whisper, not wanting him to hear you.
“Nope, don’t sell yourself short, I say get cozy with him and finally move on from dickhead McGee, even if it's just for a night, cleanse the palette. Besides, you know he’ll be doing whoever looks his way at my wedding.” you hear a muffled shout “alright I have to go, something about the bridesmaids fighting.”
“Your sisters? Fighting? Who could have seen that coming” you deadpan.
“I know, god I wish you were here.”
“I wish I was as well i'll call tomorrow in case you get cold feet, I have a five point plan”
“I won't” she chimes.
“ I know because you love her”
“And I also love you” she says
“And I love you” you respond before hanging up. Not even a minute after hanging up you get a call from Santiago
“Hey, I just wanted to verbally apologize for trapping you with ‘Fish, though he's definitely one of the better ones to get stuck with.” he says.
“Well that’s good to know” you laugh, rolling your eyes.
“He hasn’t tried anything has he? If he has I'll kill him, and get away with it, you'll have to help me with the body but...” Santiago starts.
“Santi, it's fine he's cool, really sweet, actually,” you offer heat rushing to your face for some unknown reason.
“Good. He touches you ill..” he warns.
“You’ll kill him ya I got it!” you snap, you understood why Santiago felt like he had to play big brother for you but sometimes he was a touch overbearing. “Is John there?” you try and ask casually, failing to head Stellas advice.
“Don’t...” Santi starts, you can practically hear his jaw clench over the phone “you know if I see him tonight i'm gonna knock him out for how he treats you”
“It wasn’t that bad.” you whisper.
“It was, still is, I heard him bragging about how if worse comes to worse he always has his plan D,” he offers, not to hurt you but to try and free you from the cycle.
“That dick. You know what Stellas right, fuck him!” you exclaim with a newfound determination to rid him from your life.
“Oh my god, are you finally seeing the light?” Santi asks “Praise the lord!” He shouts up into the sky.
“Ya I guess so” you say staring at Frankie as he dries his hair with the towel. “I gotta go, see you soon.”
“Not soon enough” he laughs as you hang up.
“Whose that?” Frankie asks, still curious about who you’d been hoping to see at the wedding and what they’d done to earn your affection.
“Pope!” you say with a smile, pushing your back off the bed and sitting up.
“Threatening to kill me?” Frankie predicts.
“Ya we have a plan” you murmur.
“We?” he asks, a twinkle in his eye and his mouth upturned at the sides.
“Well he'll kill you but, I cant have him go to jail so i'll have to hide your body.” you explain
“Good glad that got sorted” he says, his smile now in full effect.
“I'll go grab some breakfast” you say.
“No ill get it, you’re always getting it, plus gives you time to shower, I can smell you from here.” He prods, grabbing the key.
“Rude!” you yell out after him.
He's back when you exit the shower
“Oh thank you, you say grabbing the plate form him”
“Just what the doctor ordered, hey?” he asks, smiling stupidly big.
“Ouuuf that that was bad truly apologize to me” He laughs at how serious your face gets “You're laughing? I had to listen to that joke and you're laughing?” you say through a mouthful of eggs. “Here's something that'll wipe that stupid smile off your face, snow stops which means we have to clear off my car.”
“Using the royal we are we?” he asks
“Think of it as repayment for the pun,” you say waving your fork in his face
“How will we be clearing it off?” he asks, leaning over the counter.
“Brush” you say, as if it's obvious
“Where's the brush?” he asks, resting his chin on the back of his hands and smiling sweetly at you, waiting for an answer.
“In the….oh” you say, face dropping when you realize that the brush was in the car currently buried under a snow pile.
“Not so smart now” he laughs pushing back off the counter taking your empty plate with him, washing it up for you.
“Well I guess we just have to get to the door with our hands then” you say smiling.
“Once again, about this we,” he says, drying his hands on the dish towel, turning to see a dramatic pout plastered across your face.
“Fine, I'll only help because I think you may disappear in the snow if you go in alone” he responds, the truth was, he couldn't deny you.
You both get dressed into the most winter proof clothes you had, neither of you having packed for a snowy expedition. As you exit the room you see him grab a pack of cigarettes he’d been hiding, not wanting you to see his worst traits.
“Those will kill you, you know,” you say, causing him to roll his eyes dramatically.
“Okay mom” he laughs grabbing the lighter despite your disapproving glare,
“You have a daughter to think about” you say, feeling like you'd be letting your profession down by giving up so easily.
“It's why I smoke, the safest way to calm the nerves while staying clean” he murmurs with a look on his face that is enough to get you to drop it for now. You weren't about to pry into his struggle with addiction and you certainly weren’t one to judge, you’d faced similar issues after your brothers passing.
“I used to smoke,” you confess as the elevator doors close in front of you both.
“Seriously?” he remarks, not able to believe it.
“Pack a week for about a year” you say, slowly nodding your head as the two of you walk through the foyer towards the parking lot.
“You quit?” He asks, impressed.
“Ya I don’t think it was long enough to form a habit. When did you start?” you offer as you move your legs through the snow, it was dense your legs would be sore tomorrow.
“What? Are you gonna assess the state of my lungs?” Frankie laughs, moving easily through the snow you were struggling so hard against.
“Yes, but i'll only tell you the results if you want to know”
“Few years back, after...” he stops himself before confessing the worst thing that ever happened in his life.
“The mission” you finish for him, remembering how Pope had picked up similar habits once he finally returned home. “You were there with Santi?” you question
“He told you about it?” he asks, sterner than you’d seen him before, he was afraid that you knew what a monster he was. You shake your head, no and he thanks the gods. “You think i'm going to?” He queries lighting up a cigarette and taking a drag, making sure not to blow it out anywhere near you.
“I don’t know, maybe. It’s the one thing he wont tell me about, figured it would be easier for you if you were talking to a stranger about it.”
“Not much of a stranger now” he laughs, but there was something behind his eyes, a similar sadness that you saw with Santi when he talked about it. Your thoughts are interrupted when something cold hits you in the face, your mouth drops open, your forehead scrunches in disbelief.
“Shit, I wasn’t aiming for your face I swear!” he looks up panicked
“I guess it's what I get for asking so many questions” you say, hand still over your face playing into it as you formulate your attack.
“No, oh my god! No! It wasn't because of that, let me see” he says, you let your hands drop and you smile wickedly up at him. Before he has time to react, you rub a handful of snow into his face.
“Oh... you're gonna pay for that.” he draws out, wiping the snow from his face.
After 15 minutes of all out war, and a brief truce that was to be officially signed once back inside you managed to get to the door handle and lean into the back seat grabbing out the brush. You offer it to Frankie, but he's already started clearing off the rest of the car with his arms.
“Hey can you grab my spare charger out of the compartment there?” you say cleaning off the trunk, the front doors now accessible.
“Ya, holy shit is this a knife?” he asks, pulling out a knife.
“Maybe.” You say staring into his eyes as his mouth hangs open in amusement. “For safety, I didn't know who I'd be driving up with! You coulda been a murderer” you explain palms up.
“And you were planning on what? shanking me?” he laughs a huge smile on his face, weirdly endeared by your thought process.
“Only if I had to.” You say chuckling between shivers, the cold now seeping through your makeshift snowsuit hitting against the sweat you’d worked up.
“You want it?” He offers.
“No i'm good, thanks”
“Because you don’t think I'm a murderer or because you have another one hidden in the room already?” he laughs, but he stops when you tilt your head slightly and raise your eyebrows, averting your eyes.
“Wait, do I need this knife?” he calls as you trudge back through the snow.
You both change into less sweaty attire and you settle into the couch turning on to watch the latest forensic files rerun. You shiver as you sit down having caught a chill. Noticing you shaking, Frankie goes to the wardrobe and grabs down a spare blanket throwing one at you so it lands directly over your head. He laughs when he sees you slowly turn towards him beneath the blanket, like someone in a makeshift ghost costume.
“Excuse me!” you laugh
“Hey you should be thanking me, can't have you freezing to death.” he says, “Are you asleep under there?” he asks, when you don't respond
“I'm not a cat! I don't fall asleep when someone throws a blanket over me!” He's not paying attention to what he's doing and the bottle in his hand shatters against the counter, a shard slicing his hand open.
“Fucking shit.” you him sigh.
“Are you okay?” You ask maneuvering out from under your blankets to see Frankie in the kitchen, glass on the floor and blood coming down his arm.
“Wow you're out of my sight for 2 seconds and you maim yourself” you say laughing, stopping when you see the panicked look in his eye, the event evidently triggering something deep in his psyche. You quickly stand up and he goes to move towards you.
“No don't move Frankie, stay where you are.” you reassure softly, watching as his eyes lay into your own, his breathing calmer now “You're in socks, can't have you cutting your dancing feet” you say.
“You’ve heard of my dancing feet,” he says, grounding himself again.
“Only bad things” you say, throwing him a pair of shoes that he carefully puts on before moving toward the closet where the broom is “No come here, let me see your hand. The mess can wait, you're more important,” you stress leading him over to the couch and sitting him down.
“Wow, first time I'll be able to afford professional health care “ he jokes as you take his hands in your own.
“Ow” he says when you press down onto the hand to assess the damage.
“It's fine, not deep enough for stitches, should heal up on its own. I still want to clean it though, to stop any infection.” You return with a small bottle of over priced vodka opening it and dabbing some onto a cotton pad. He doesn't flinch when the alcohol cleans the wound and he watches as you bandage his hand up.
“You carry a med pack with you on every trip?” he queries, but you don’t hear him you’re too focused on wrapping his hand.
“There! good as new,” you say standing up and cleaning up the glass on the floor. “Hey did you bring a swimsuit?” you ask, dumping the glass into some newspaper that was left in the room.
“Why?” He asks.
“Answer the question Frankie” you say, folding the paper around the shards before placing it into the trash.
“Yes, you wanna go hang out at the pool with the fifty families stuck here?”
“Ya. You don't? Seriously this room is wildly expensive and has a huge jacuzzi tub, I'm getting in your welcome to join, but bathing suits are mandatory.” you offer.
“I was gonna get in fully clothed,” he offers, not missing a beat.
“Perfect even better”
As per usual he beats you to the punch and settles into the tub that was more akin to a hot tub than a bath, he wanted to get in first partially to annoy you and partially so his body wouldn’t be on full display, he wasn't as jacked as he once was and he’d become insecure about certain areas that he’d let go once his kid came along. He watches as you walk in and his eyes can't help but follow your figure around the room, a beautiful person behind a beautiful personality, he thanks the universe for placing him into your orbit.
“That why they call you catfish?” you ask drawing him from his daydream back into an equally pleasing reality.
“What?” he responds, blushing at having been called out on his gawking.
“Cause your mouth hangs open like a fish out of water when you're zoned out” you smirk, lowering yourself down into the tub.
“Rude” he says splashing after you settle in.
“Alright, Frankie, what is it?” you ask, causing his face to look up to you “what's your deal, apart from smoking? You gotta have flaws”
“Wouldn’t you like to know.” he charms
“Sinister” you laugh, but he doesn't, you reach your foot up tapping his cheek with it,
“Disgusting,” he chuckles, grabbing it and rubbing the arch before pushing it back into the water.
“God, I miss the ocean” you confess, “ I hate the city sometimes.”
“You’re not planning on staying in Chicago after you're done?”
“Nope, gonna get myself out to the coast, or at least somewhere without winters.” you say stretching your arms out across the tub. “How about you, are you planning on staying?”
“ Probably, no reason to leave, plus it's close to my mom so she can take care of Arianna when I'm at work, though I wouldn't be opposed to moving if the opportunity presented itself she's young enough that it wouldn’t be too hard.” he says, wanting you to know that if you asked, hed follow you anywhere.
“Arianna, beautiful name. Did you pick it?” you ask looking up when a few minutes of silence pass. As you do you notice that the somber look from early had returned. “You okay?” you ask.
“I don't deserve her, I don’t deserve something so good.” he states, suddenly realizing he didn’t deserve someone like you either. You wouldn’t be sitting in the tub with him if you knew what he’d done.
“Frankie that's not true” you reassure
“You don't know the shit I've done. I'm not... I'm not a good person,” he says, still not looking over to you.
“Well, I…” you begin to refute.
“Seriously, I've done bad things… awful things'' he clears his throat, afraid to look at you, afraid you’d be terrified by him.
“People make bad mistakes, but that doesn't make them irredeemable, not if they are willing to change. You understand what you did was bad, that says something.” you reassure, knowing the guilt was likely left over from the military.
“Well, wise words coming from someone who's never done anything bad”
“You don't know me that well Frankie, I’ve done my fair share of stupid things, crappy things to numb the pain. It's what we do to make up for those shitty actions that count. At every turn, you’ve shown me that you're not an evil person. Everything I’ve seen is good, and funny and incredibly kind.” you finish and you continue to nudge him with your foot until he finally cracks a smile.
“Well now you're smiling again, my missions complete and it's time for bed” you say stepping out of the tub and drying off, unaware that you’d just made Frankie fall even harder for you. His eyes helplessly following you as you leave the bathroom.
“Since I'm an outpatient, does that mean I get the good side of the bed?” he calls out after you. You roll your eyes but let him have it, you preferred the sleeping situation the way it was.
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curiosity-killed · 4 years ago
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evidence of a lost past part 5
chronologically after 1 & 2 and a bit before 4
fun fact of the day: Hua Cheng’s dancing to Lover’s Tears as performed by the Shanghai Conservatory Symphony bc it’s one of my favorite lazy improv songs
story tag
By the time seven comes around, Xie Lian’s legs are trembling with fatigue and his hair’s plastered to his forehead and nape. Winding lazily out of a renversé, he drops his arms and exhales. He feels...worn, gently pummeled like a sock in a washer or a stone along the riverbank. It’s been a while since he used his body like this—even these last few weeks of borrowing Hua Cheng’s studio have been more about relearning how to move at all, retracing the lines of the technique he’s let fall by the wayside.
Now, for the first time in a long time, he feels like he’s properly danced. The feeling buoys up in his chest, bright and a little heady. It still feels funny to break the rules he grew up with, to blend classical lines and break up languid adagio flows to hit the ground, but the way it leaves his body feeling exhausted and satisfied makes it hard to resist.
He takes a few minutes to stretch properly, working down from his neck to his feet and closing off with a short round of abs before he shrugs his sweatshirt back on, picks up his shoes by their heels, and goes to find Hua Cheng.
He’s lured up the stairs by the arching strains of strings and the low rumble of piano underneath. Wandering to the upper studio, he finds himself swaying absently to the three-four time as if the music itself is drawing him into a waltz. He hums softly along and turns the corner off the stairs to find the studio door propped open. Here, the music swells so loudly he can nearly feel it buffeting his body like ocean waves. He comes to a halt at the door.
Hua Cheng is alone inside, a single lean figure in the half-light of the studios. Only two of the four rows of fluorescent lights are on, and they form dim lines like walls of silk strings through which Hua Cheng weaves as precisely and deftly as if he were the shuttle, the hand shaping the cloth.
The choreography is some Xie Lian has seen before—today, even. On Hua Cheng, though, it is a wholly different creature than when He Xuan performed the same steps. He Xuan is a capable dancer, with strong technique, but it’s abruptly clear that he’s a younger dancer with less experience than Hua Cheng. Where He Xuan maintained the extended balances with a tight jaw and stiff shoulders and dropped from them gratefully, Hua Cheng suspends on the ball of his foot, drawing it out and slowing his extension till it seems he’s pushing the music, curving the song’s fermatas and languid sweeps.
In time with the trills and high ornamentation, he flicks through hand gestures in rapid succession while his legs sweep rond de jambs into a light leap off his left hand. The motion rolls him back up to the start, into the sequence that begins the entire pas de deux: a heavy step to the side, the sway of loose arms carrying him into a spin.
At this point in the piece, the dancer never looks to the downstage left corner, like it’s bad luck or a persistent blind spot. When He Xuan danced it this afternoon, the choreography had seemed awkward, the missing corner too self-conscious. Watching Hua Cheng now, though, Xie Lian’s heart aches. Hua Cheng pours himself into the movement, every reach a desperate plea, every sharp twist furious rejection. Standing in this absent corner, where Shi Qingxuan is to enter, Xie Lian suddenly understands why Hua Cheng has been so insistent about the facing. He bites the inside of his lip at the familiar welling of grief that laps at the insides of his ribcage.
Hua Cheng presses into a suspension with his leg nearly to his ear before dropping into a double turn as rushed and frantic as a hurricane. He stops sharply, finally facing the corner as his leg stretches back in an exquisite arabesque, his arms reaching forward as if begging an indifferent god. His gaze sweeps up and then catches on Xie Lian. Freezing, his eye goes wide, and he stumbles forward half a step, falling out of the final pose.
“Ah, I’m sorry, San Lang,” Xie Lian says, suddenly embarrassed. “I didn’t mean to interrupt.”
Hua Cheng shakes his head even as he rubs the back of his neck. Wiping his hand on his thigh, he gives a small shrug.
“Gege is always welcome,” he says, a little breathless. “I was just surprised.”
His hair’s coming loose from the ponytail, hanging in hanks around his face. With his t-shirt and bright eye, he looks softer than usual, and Xie Lian is briefly possessed by the inexplicable urge to hug him.
“Ah, it looks very beautiful, San Lang,” he says instead before pausing. He drags his bottom lip between his teeth before adding, “I think I see why you were dissatisfied in rehearsal.”
“Oh?”
Raising an eyebrow, Hua Cheng tilts his head to the side in open curiosity, and Xie Lian flusters. He’s still not used to such sincere consideration, to having his words listened to with such care. He scratches his cheek.
“Mn,” he says. “It’s just—you choreographed it with a more experienced dancer in mind, didn’t you?”
Hua Cheng blinks at him once, and Xie Lian mentally goes over his words before flushing. His hands fly up, trying to wave off the offense, and he nearly clocks himself in the face with his shoe.
“No, no, I don’t mean it like that! He Xuan is definitely experienced, too, and plenty capable,” he says in a rush. “Of course he’s a very skilled dancer—all of them—”
A laugh escapes Hua Cheng, and he crosses the space between them with two easy strides. Catching Xie Lian’s hand, he smiles at him. Although there’s amusement in his look, it doesn’t feel like he’s laughing at Xie Lian. It just feels—fond. Warm.
“Gege, it’s alright,” he says. “If you say it’s so, then He Xuan must really just be a useless upstart.”
The teasing edge to his tone is enough to cut through Xie Lian’s fluster, but he groans and buries his face in his free hand at the shameless teasing.
“San Lang,” he mumbles.
Hua Cheng laughs, bright and irresistible, and gives Xie Lian’s hand a gentle squeeze before letting go.
“Anyway, gege’s right,” he says, stepping back slightly and tugging the elastic out of his hair. “I didn’t choreograph it with He Xuan in mind.”
His hair falls to his shoulders, a little rumpled and wavy from being up, and briefly hides his face. As he drags his fingers back through the crown to retie it, Xie Lian cants his head and considers him. He Xuan is the most experienced of Hua Cheng’s dancers, along with Shi Qingxuan. Lan Chang is older, of course, but from what she’s said, she only dances for fun and to teach now. It would take months for her to build back the strength and stamina needed to perform.
“Why don’t you do it?” he asks.
Hua Cheng startles, looking up in surprise. Tightening the elastic, he dips his head a moment before shoving his ponytail over his shoulder to hang in a long line down his back.
“Ah, it’s silly. You’ll laugh,” he says.
“Noo,” Xie Lian insists, grinning. “I promise I won’t laugh at you.”
Looking at him a moment, Hua Cheng narrows his eye, but his lips press together like he’s suppressing a smile. He looks briefly skyward and takes a breath, losing his fight with the smile. Parting his lips, he draws breath to speak before pausing and letting it out in a quiet exhale as he settles his hands on his hips.
“Well. It’s a pas de deux,” he says, like that’s the end of it.
Xie Lian pauses, pressing his lips together and tilting his head. When no more is forthcoming, he can’t help the snigger that escapes him, and Hua Cheng shoots him a betrayed look.
“You said you wouldn’t laugh,” he chides, but there’s no heat behind it.
“I’m not, I’m not!” Xie Lian says, holding up his hands. “It’s just—you really dislike dancing with someone else so much?”
It’s not that Xie Lian would blame him, exactly: as skilled as his company dancers are, Hua Cheng is exceptional. Even with Lan Chang in the peak of her career or He Xuan at his finest moments, the pairing would still be unequal.
“Not exactly,” Hua Cheng hedges. He presses the toes of his left foot into the floor, arching the foot into an absentminded stretch. “It’s just—the one I thought of when I was choreographing isn’t an option. So to dance it with anyone else—they really can’t compare at all.”
Oh. Xie Lian swallows, startled by the sincerity of the explanation. That really isn’t anything to laugh about. He hesitates, chewing at his bottom lip and sneaking a glance up at Hua Cheng. This person Hua Cheng thought of—if Xie Lian ever knew them, they’ve been lost to time. The knowledge weighs like a stone anchor deep in the pit of his chest, but he tries to swallow it down. He’s being presumptuous, really. He shouldn’t make so many assumptions.
“Ah, then maybe we could figure out how to make it work for He Xuan and Qingxuan together,” he offers, tentative.
Hua Cheng’s expression softens, the hesitance fading into a gentle and welcoming warmth. Nodding his head decisively, he smiles.
“Gege has the best ideas,” he praises. “Where should we start?”
Setting his shoes and bag down by the wall, Xie Lian draws in a breath and steps more fully into the room. It’s not for him, to be lit up on the stage with hundreds of eyes glued to every articulation of his hands and feet—but maybe he can still help Hua Cheng, if only by being a second set of eyes.
“Ah, the a la seconde turn that turns into a tilt?” he suggests. “The floor sequence after that seemed to give He Xuan some trouble.”
Hua Cheng nods and rolls his shoulders once before moving back into the center of the space. Starting a few steps ahead, he glides through the movements as naturally and confidently as if they were the only way his body knows to move, as if fit to his long limbs by the finest of tailors. Xie Lian offers advice and suggestions where he thinks they might better shape the choreography to He Xuan’s own movement, but it seems a quiet kind of betrayal.
Watching Hua Cheng dance, Xie Lian doesn’t want to see the piece altered or made for another. He wants to see it like this, like it was meant to be, with Hua Cheng alone in the thin light and the corner empty, open, waiting.
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prettieparker86 · 4 years ago
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The Ghost of You is Close to Me
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Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Reader
Warning: Sadness? set pre-WWI
Note: I’ve been trying to find my writer’s voice again. It’s felt lost and so far away from me. I still don’t feel it’s back per say. My previous characters still feel foreign to me. But when I feel the urge to write now, I try to listen. Not quite sure what this is. Watched a WWI movie the other night and this sort of rushed out of me like a flood, so I let it pour. For this I really tried to imagine what Tommy was like before the war based on the little pieces we've gotten from the show. And I wanted to explore the idea that she sensed he'd never come back, which in a way he didn't. His body did, but not the Tommy from before.
I’m not super well versed in the Romani culture and what knowledge I gained in the past feels mostly lost, I apologize. I was trying to find the word for horse, Grast was the closest I could. As with cozonac. I’m not sure if it’s really a traditional food. My research said it was. I’m trying my best. My intention is not to offend. Feedback is always appreciated. Thanks
Don’t know what I’m suppose to do, haunted by the ghost of you.
It only takes the sight of him to send you running. As fast as your horse can take you, holding tight to the notion that as long as you never stop running then he never leaves. You hide away to the place you would always run to as children. Back when Tommy's mum would drag the whole Shelby brood up into the hills, running away from her pitiful life in the city and Arthur Sr.
Its a grove of trees overlooking a deep fertile valley, the spot where you use to steal away as children. Long before you knew adults could run away from their grief as easily as little ones, and there was no mistaking it, you were running. You secure your horse to a tree branch where she can nibble away on the overgrown grass encircling the base of trunk, and settled atop a rock that's yours as much as it is the earth's. A rock that has only grown smaller over the years as you've grown bigger. Your family comes to this hills nearly every spring. As a child it never seemed different, now all you see is the changes.
Everything changes, this you know, but you swear if you just sit there long enough this change won't find you. It wont be so. Tommy wont leave. You're oldest companion. Your dearest friend. Gazing out at the valley blanketed in a tapestry of green hues, shadow and light, as the overcast sky moves above you - you tell yourself he isn't leaving. Even though the steady ache in your heart makes it feel like he's already gone. You miss him, before he's even left. You miss him... The words echo through you in shuddered vibrations that sting at your eyes, even worse at your heart, as a rogue tear manages to break free and make a run down your cheek before you briskly swipe at it.
You can't imagine him not being there. Being unreachable to you. You cant imagine not listening to Tommy's thoughts, his sparks of creativity, or the way he can make you laugh. You cant imagine him not being there. The hole he will leave, the one already opening up inside you feels unbearable, sickening, and you just want it to go away. Who will be there when you need someone most? Who will convince you things will turn out ok or you should keep fighting even when neither feel true? Who will know you? Who will see you? Really see you and genuinely care? You never felt you took his friendship for granted, never mistakenly felt there were others who could fill such big shoes, and yet now, as the chill of a breeze sweeps by you, sending goosebumps to prickle on the flesh of your arms, you wonder if you cherished that gift enough. You wonder if it meant the same to him and if he will miss you as deeply once you're gone.
You try not to think about it. You've been trying not to think about it since you received word Tommy had enlisted. You've kept yourself busy, both in mind and your hands. Filling the moments whenever he would start to creep in. But in the end its pointless. Because the more you try not to think of him, try not to miss him... The more you do. Its like trying to stop the rain by shaking your fist at the heavens. Futile and maddening. You see him when you're with the horses, whispering and enchanting them the way only his tongue and heart can do. You see him in the glow of a campfire where he'd often gets lost in his thoughts, scribbling them down or creating a loose sketch. You see him in the charming smirk of a young man, or a joke he once told you. He's everywhere. Inside you. A part of you. And denying that never made it less true.
And the thought of living without him feels terribly sad and lonely in a way your heart feels pathetic to admit and yet hopeless to reconcile. It isn't any place you want to be and yet you also have the sense to understand you have no say in that. You feel immersed in the overwhelming ache of your heart, the one that's been plaguing you for days now, when you suddenly hear the stir of your horse behind you. You glance back and watch as she pawns happily at the earth beneath her hoofs, snooting and pawing at the ground as Tommy appears nearby. She loves him. They all love him. You've often teased he's more horse than man and no one notices that more then the horses.
Tommy meets her joy with firm pats along her neck and gentles strokes to her mane and nose. "Hey girl" He greets.
Seeing him standing there both fills your heart with joy and deeper sorrow. Lean and strong, his hair tousled from his ride over, with those piercing sapphire eyes that cut you like a knife and see right through you at a glance. The sight of him like an old beloved quilt, comforting and well known, now tattered and tore as he rips from your life.
"Little bird", he says as your eyes meet. A name he gave you so long ago you cant even remember how it came to be.
"Grast", you answer back.
"How did you know I would be here?" You ask as you look away, not wanting him to see the turmoil brewing in your eyes the way you know he will.
Tommy shrugs easily, "Just knew." Just knew because he knows you, in a way most will never get to know you. Same way you trust in the way you know him and the ways he's shares himself with you.
When Tommy comes to sit beside you, it takes every ounce of willpower not to hug him desperately, beg him to change his mind, beg him not to go, but you don't, because you're sure it won't change anything.
"You heard," Tommy says, the grit of his breath stressing the weight of his words.
"You're a damn fool, Thomas Shelby. What did the crown ever do for us?"
He chuckles lightly to the fire on your breath, the bite in your words and you can see in his eyes he knows they only come from a place of love and concern for him.
"They need fighting men to win a war. " He tells you, as he pulls a cigarette from his breast pocket and strikes a match. Telling you things you both already know. As if it were that simple. As if the need for more men didn't come from the loss of the ones they have.
"Well then I oughta sign up. I can fight." You carry on as you snatch the cigarette hanging from his lip. Allowing yourself to feel the anger this situation ignites inside you, because anger feels far more powerful and safe than heartache and fear.
"ey, god help any man that stands between you and your cozonac." Tommy teases you, the crook of his mouth curling as he await your reprisal. Knowing your tales of blunder and greatest mishaps better then anyone. Your stories are his stories, your journeys connected.
You gasp in mock offense. "He would have eaten it all! Fistin’ it down like the whole roll was his!"
"A good stab of your fork put an end to that, didn' it?"
"He shouldn't have been so greedy." You feign defense and tug hotly at the cigarette, fighting back the smile pulling at the corners of your mouth to match Tommy's devilish grin. A battle you quickly lose as he elbows your side and snatches back his smoke before you jab him back. And just like that you aren't mad anymore. That's something only Tommy can do, make you laugh when you want to cry. Because he knows you... your dearest friend. The keeper of your secrets, biggest fears, and dreams. It's a gift to be known. An even bigger gift to be known and cherished for who you are. You never thought it wasn't, but you didn't realize how much you needed that gift until it was being taken away.
You both grow quiet against the steady decent of the sun at your backs. The low crinkle of burning paper fills and hovers in the space around you both as his cigarette burns down, subtle like the smoke dancing in swirls past his lips. Its the quiet moments that haunt you now. The hours and space he once filled in your life. The echoing loneliness that you know will only expand and grow in his absence. Those hours eat at you, devour you. Gnawing away until you feel raw and desperate to make them stop, because you swear you can't take another moment in that place. Only this time you know it wont stop. There will be no reprieve, no mercy, your best friend is leaving and you can't stop him. And when he's gone, this- This torturous way of existence, with its crawling of time, absence of joy, and echoing loneliness, it will fill the space his light once illuminated in your life. Like thick dark clouds rolling in over the backcountry hills to settle in around you and call you there home.
Tommy has his reasons, none more then Greta you suspect but you cant help but feel he's choosing the war over you, that he's abandoning you, as preposterous as you know that notion is. But there's nothing logical about missing someone. You can't reason it away with facts and rationality. And it doesn't care that it feels like it's killing some part of you. Nobody tells you missing someone is a physical sensation, a state of being above all else - like an empty or upset stomach, like a punch to the chest or falling off a horse that leaves you winded. It's not merely a thought and it's more than an emotion. You feel it in your bones, the tight hollows inside you, the vibrating ache of longing, the chill that settles in under your skin.
Sitting quietly side by side, you rest your head upon his shoulder. All the girls love Tommy, they always have. With his charming smile, deep set eyes that reach into the soul with a glance, and his devilish humor, its easy to see why so many would be drawn to him. And there was a time even you were too, but there was always too many things in the way and what you've built instead is deeper and more intimate because its not bound to the fickle confines of romance.
Closing your eyes, you can see it all so clearly in your mind. Replaying like a reel at the pictures... Wading in knee high murky pond water and reeds in search of frogs to catch. Covered in filth from head to toe as you battled on rain soaked mud hills with John to see who would be crowned king of the mountain. Sneaking off with mum's herbs and spices into the woods to craft witches brew and cast magic. Building campfires from dried old birch tree branches by the moonlight, to bathe in the scent of it, and tell old spine-chilling tales. Gazing up at the stars on warm summer night, seeing who could count the most. Lying awake late at night by candle light trying to read each other's mind. Hiding in the haystack to terrorize Arthur and any unlucky girl he tried to steal away with for a moment alone. Dragging you off to your first pub in Birmingham and knocking some bloke on his ass when he tried to get handsy. Trying to teach you to drive on slick muddy streets, as you swore at him like a sailor when he wouldn't stop laughing. The keeper of your deepest secrets as you are of his. The person who tried to offer you hope in your darkest moments and celebrated you greatest success. Who genuinely listened to you and sought out your thoughts on matters. The person you trusted most with the innerworkings of your heart and mind. The one you trusted would be there.
All of it feels like yesterday. The memories still fresh and vivid. The thought there wont be more to make constricts your windpipe, tightens your heart, as tears you couldn't possibly hold back any longer fill dangerously to the brim of your eyes... You don't know how to do this. You don't know how to live this. You don't know how to say goodbye to him. To let him go. Watch him disappear from your life. And the truth is... You don't wanna know. You don't want to say goodbye. And a part of you feels hurt this seems so easy for him, though you don't actually know it is. And the part of you that knows Tommy's heart, suspects it isn't so easy for him to say goodbye to you either.
The thought you might never speak to him again leaves a frantic feeling trying to rip free from your chest. How do you find peace when you long for someone still there but just beyond your reach, drifting further out to sea by the moment? How do you let them go when everything inside you screams to pull them back in? The tears feel warm as they fall down your chilled cheeks onto the shoulder of his jacket. He can't see your tears, but you swear he can feel them as he pats at your knee in an old comforting gesture you've grown to trust will be there. As Tommy pulls away, you fight with the urge to rapidly wipe away your tears and keep your pride. But as your eyes meet, you realize there's no room for pride here. Staring into his eyes you fear the silence that's already invading the space he holds.
But then he touches your face and you remember to breathe. Though his hands are rough from work, the pad of his thumb feels soft, full, and steady against your skin as he gently wipes away at the tears fallen on your face.
"I'm coming back." Tommy promises you, and you want to believe that more then you've ever wanted to believe in anything. That he will return to you. But you've heard the news of the war, the dyer news that continues to abound. And something deep and sharp within you whispers it isn't true. He isn't coming back, and that quiet piercing whisper radiates more loudly within you then the words on his lips.
"Let's make a fire," Tommy suggests as he gives your knee a final pat. You can see in his eyes he's trying to mend your heart, soften the blow. A solemn smile of acknowledgment creeping around the corners of his mouth, as if anything in the world can be solved by a stiff drink or roaring campfire.
You nod in agreement, there's nothing the dancing flames, glowing embers, crackling branches, and heady smoky aroma can't clear from your mind. Nothing like bathing in a campfire to wash your mind and soul clean.
You rise from the rock in slow unison. You gaze across the rich fertile valley below as it slowly descends into darkness all around you. Vibrant greens from early now turning to deeper winter tones as night begins to envelope all that you see. This place you know. This man you know. As you turn back to Tommy, watching as he moves past the horses.
Your eyes fall closed for a moment as you call to him. You pray he can hear you. The way he use to when you were children lying awake late at night, pretending there was magic between you. "Dearest friend... I love you and perhaps I always will. I see you're headed on a road, and I don't know where it leads, but you will take a part of me with you. It's been yours a long time. I hope you remember its there, I hope you protect it and treasure it. But I won't stand in your way, because that's what it means to love someone more then yourself." You whisper to him, not with your lips but from that place in your heart that already belongs to him. The one he gets to keep. You embrace the truth that your world will never feel the way it did before. You will never feel like you did before. That a part of you dies with him as he slips away. You acknowledge this new reality for what it is, whether you know how to live it or not, whether you even want to.
You take a deep breath and slowly open your eyes.
He's gone.
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dadzawa-adopt-dabi · 4 years ago
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Discord prompt pain lvl 7
He didn’t have a heat for a couple months and his pills made him sick, so Dabi stops taking them. Magne looks at him with worry when he’s sick in the morning and he can't reassure her. Tell her that he can’t be pregnant, he’s always been too thin, too sick but since he joined the League that’s changed. It’s a possibility now, and the tests he buys confirm its more than a possibility suddenly. It’s a reality. The entire league is in an uproar, fussing around him and checking on him constantly. He didn’t know how he felt about it, it made him feel like he was made of glass. Like they were waiting for him to break. Packs did this though, he could get used to it eventually. Used to Jin making coffee and handing him a cup in the mornings. Shigaraki constantly scenting him and dragging him into games. He leaves a lot, Sako and Kuroguri freakout everytime and worriedly call his phone, until he starts leaving a message with someone that he’s going to be back. He gets bigger and rounder and then one night, before he can’t hide it any longer, Dabi leaves the base. He can figure out what to do later, after he’s had her and isn’t worried about the league's reaction. If the baby lives. He’s always had poor health, he’s felt her move on and off. Isn’t she supposed to move more than that? Isn’t he supposed to be bigger? Has his scent changed yet? The questions plague Dabi as he shoves himself into one of his old hiding holes, nicer side of town with nasty people. He just needs to keep quiet. He'll lose the baby or give birth and drop her off. Or die during it, he doesn't know. Dabi doesn't have any options, he ran out of them a long time ago and every choice he’s made sense has given him less and less. He makes it a few more weeks and wants to cry when he feels the cramping start. On a makeshift nest in the corner, sobbing as he realizes he waited too long. He doesn't have any money, any help he was going to call the league tomorrow. He was, he really was but now he cant find his phone and it’s probably dead and this is going to hurt so much. Memories of his mother screaming echo in his mind and he sobs, this isn’t like that. Not yet. He remembers when Enji hit her too hard, the unnamed baby that took hours of her screaming and begging for a hospital as Enji locked her in the bathroom. He’d been a preteen and unable to do anything but stare in horror. A cramp rips through him and he lets out a sob as he rolls himself on to his stomach.
Looking for his phone in the nest. It’s not there and he whines as he feels his muscles ripple, starting to bleed all over it. He’s more scared than hurt so he manages to stand, distressed, and panicking as he runs through the abandoned apartment as fast as he can. There’s an old metal bowl and a rag he finds in the kitchen, under the sink. He fills the sink with water and shakes. He knows there’s going to be blood, that's what the bowl and rag are for. All the towels and pillows he could find earlier are in his nest and he shucks off his coat he’d had on for warmth and grabs everything back to the nest. He never had one of these before the league, hadn’t needed or wanted one. Then he was in a home and the urge had struck, getting worse when he met Hawks. When makeout and late nights stayed make outs. He doesn't know what to do now that he needs one. Can’t pick up and leave because his pack needs him, because he wants hawks, because he’s having a fucking baby.
The cramps grow worse with all his walking around and panic, Dabi realizes he’s been whining the entire time and strips his shirt off at the same time as he steps out of his pants. Balling the shirt up and shoving it in his mouth as he lays back in the bare nest. It smells wrong, Dabi’s scared and everything below his waist is on fire, the pain balling in his pelvis and wrapping around his waist to travel up his spine. His pecs ache worse than they have the week he’s stayed here. Getting ready for a baby who’s going to be dead, they’re going to be dead. Dabi knows it in his soul, he hasn’t felt a kick in weeks, it’s too early, he thinks anyways, he knots the shirt behind his head. He’s on his side, sobbing as each pulse, every push his body demands he gives hurts him. His nails dig deep grooves into his arms and scars as he pushes. Crying and whining through the makeshift gag he’s given himself. His vision whites out in pain several times as he begs for relief, for comfort, help. He won’t get any he already knows. Probably won’t even let him hold his dead baby’s body as they drag him to jail, to die. His quirk starts smoking his scar seams and he knows he can’t do this alone. He can’t , he’s going to burn everything up and the league will never know what happened, his father will never be exposed and he screams in pain. Unlatching one of his hands to pull a pair of quirk handcuffs out from under it, bartered for after he’d burnt down a shelter years ago. Nightmares making it impossible to stay in them anymore and unable to sleep without risk of killing everything around him. He remembered vividly drinking the soda the hero gave him, not knowing what it would do at the time, hours spent on his back in exchange for the expensive necessary things he hates. He can’t touch them without wanting to vomit, the memory slams him in the face every time, but he can’t be found right now. He’s too vulnerable, unable to defend himself, not knowing what will happen besides pain that ruins him as the blood and fluids between his legs gush faster. He’s ruined for anyone after this, mentally and physically he can’t do this. The cuffs lock as omega noises begging for help and distress pour out, muffled by the shirt. He wishes he’d experienced what Keigo gave him at least one more time before he’d done this to himself. Not even keigo will want him again with how wide he can feel his muscles stretching. The blood starts to slow as pain white his vision out for longer. He reaches a hand down to his hole where the baby is coming out and bites the t-shirt, inserting his fingers and wiggling them as deep as they can go as he screams in pain. He’s stretched wide and has no problem inserting them, he touches something and lets out a wail as he withdraws his hand, making sure his coat is gathered under him to catch them. The next contraction makes him throw his head back and squirm, screaming even after the gag is misplaced enough that it falls off. He’s switched on to his back now and his arms are curled near his chest as his legs twitch and kick, but there’s no escaping this pain. He hears a cuss and whips his head around, pleading noises freezing as he sees white and purple through his blurred tear filled vision. He snaps his jaw and gives a deep growl that gets cut off with another scream, he can’t stop pushing and he’s barely made any progress, that he can feel anyways, through the burning mind wiping pain.
“Get the fuck out, hel-” he manages to scream and snarl at her, the beg for help escaping without his permission. The female alpha, that combined with her color scheme and dark skin tone is enough to give him a very clear idea of who has found him. A hero, Miruko, who croons reassurance and takes a step forward as she is muttering something he can't hear, low and fast.
“Leave, fucking bitch. Going to arrest me in labor? Leave me alo-” he screams as the baby moves just that little bit further. Whimpering and unable to even sob afterwards. Rumi leaves, ducking outside the broken door and away from Dabi finally, leaving him free to wail and cry. His hands tremble as he brings them up to his mouth, locked together.
He bites down and pushes with the next contraction, eyes closed and letting his head drop into the nest. He’s just tired and it hurts, he wants it to be done with. Dabi cries as he waits for it to be done, for labor to be over so he cleans up his mess. Go home and crawl into his actual nest, the one that’s small and plush and smells like the league with just the hints of keigo starting to come through. Everything feels wrong and he lets tears pour out of his eyes as his brain keeps giving him the feeling of his baby moving, struggling as hard as he is. He knows it’s not real, it’s just brain signals getting crossed and trying to get him through this. He hasn’t felt any movement in weeks and this is just the last straw. He bears down again, nothing to hold onto and ground him as he whimpers insistently, hating the noise leaving him, blood filling his mouth and making him choke on what he resolves to be his last attempt, he can feel the head stretching and tearing him. He hopes Rumi actually left, he doesn't have the strength to fight off an alpha, won’t even be able to move for several days after this. That’s if his pathetic body can get it together long enough to fight off an infection, at the very least long enough to get him home after he rests. Dabi’s never doing this again, even if by some miracle someone did want him.
part 2 [x]
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roughentumble · 3 years ago
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I'm almost afraid to ask...
What are your werewolf au ideas?
GSHBDKSND oh its not horny or anything its just like. kind of angsty, but like, in that way where sometimes angsty daydreams are fun, you know?? like
ok its like a geraskier thing cuz im a one trick pony, but basically geralt gets cursed, three nights a month he goes all wolfy. he's an intelligent werewolf with pretty great self control, BUT he's like, ridiculously worried that he's gonna snap and hurt people. (he's not, but, you know, he's had to put down werewolves for that before, and he's not a man with a lot of faith in himself, So.)
uhhhh i cant remember how jaskier finds out tbqh, but after traveling together a while, it comes to light, and jaskier is of course very "its just you, im not scared, and im not judging you." they hang out, they figure things out, and geralt starts to relax.
so all the time he's been cursed, he hasnt gone back to kaer morhen-- its only been a year or two, but still. he feels like they'd know right away, he's worried they'd just put him down, he doesnt think they should get used to "monsters in the keep", he just feels Real Bad about it, but jaskier convinces him that this is his family, they'd understand, and they must miss him.
geralt agrees, eventually, goes up to kaer morhen with jaskier in tow.
but once they get there, he just... totally refuses to explain anything. none of the other witchers have sussed out that something's wrong(other than jaskier's hushed whispering about how geralt should "just tell them, they'd understand")
geralt's genius solution is, he'll just sleep outside three nights a month, he'll bring blankets and his fur will protect him. jaskier doesnt like it, but he's not about to tell geralt's secret, and he cant bodily drag a werewolf inside, so. his only condition is that he gets to sit outside with geralt for a bit, cuddle with him n' such. their excuse is that theyre gross love birds who are going out for moonlight picnics. everyone buys this, partially because its sort of true, partially cuz no one wants to walk in(or out) on them fucking.
it actually works the first trio of nights, to jaskier's surprise, but the 4th night they try they arent so lucky-- they forget something inside(a bottle of wine, a blanket, who knows) and eskel is like "i'll fall on my sword, be the one to bring it out to the happy couple". he steps outside, and what does he see?
a gigantic werewolf pinning jaskier to the ground.
bit of a frenzy after that, eskel attacking and shouting for backup, trying to keep the werewolf in sight while also looking for geralt, getting between the monster and jaskier while jaskier shouts-- eventually jaskier gets through to him though. thats geralt, dont hurt him, its geralt.
geralt isnt saying anything though(despite the fact he's perfectly capable of it, even transformed), and eskel sortve misunderstands. doesnt really get that this has been a long-term affliction, and assumes this is the first transformation. so with geralt not responding, eskel says "not right now it isnt," and gets his hands on one of the training blades they keep in the courtyard.
more chaos-- everyone's outside now, jaskier is absolutely not having any of it but also three grown witchers versus one bard isnt much of a fight, no one's listening to him, and geralt's just pinning himself against the wall like a prey animal and not saying anything.
jaskier proves just enough of a distraction that geralt manages to hop a wall, takes off into the woods. jaskier is calling after him, while the three remaining witchers each make a gameplan(STILL not listening to jask). after a moment, jaskier darts and weaves and makes it just out of their grasp, so they've got a werewolf AND a bard loose in the woods in the dead of both night and winter, which. Bad.
eskel goes after geralt, vesemir stays behind because they need someone in the keep, and lambert's on bard wrangling duty. lambert doesnt have much trouble finding jaskier, but he does have trouble keeping a hold on him, because he's worried about breaking his tiny human limbs(and also he's wearing a lot of thick layers, which he has no compunctions about ripping to shreds to get out of lambert's grip.) he loses a boot and a sleeve to the ongoing tussle, as he keeps slipping out and darting away. lambert even tries axii, but the biggest trick to getting out of axii is just training a lot to resist it, so geralt and him'd run through that a long time ago, so his response is to go fake-limp, then kick lambert in the dick and run off into the night with one shoe.
lambert is extremely annoyed. its not jaskier's best plan.
he finds the cave that geralt had backed himself into by some miracle, and also because eskel'd made no efforts to hide his tracks and there are currently shouts coming from the cave. jaskier gets himself inbetween the two of them and refuses to budge. geralt's still pulling the silent routine, ears pinned back, looking like a kicked dog, and eskel's trying to coax jaskier away from the "monster".
lambert comes bursting in as well, pissed and sore, but stays near the entrance, the four of them locked in a sort of stalemate. the three of them argue about what to do, but jaskier is shivering because of his wrecked coat. eventually geralt breaks his silence to rumble out a worried "yourrr fingerrrs..."
(werewolves roll their 'r's in tw3. dont ask me why, just go with it.)
eskel and lambert are stunned into silence, and jaskier is immediately turning towards geralt, letting him fret and dote on him. slips his arm inside his jacket so his fingers dont fall off-- lets geralt wrap a giant, warm paw around his foot to get some heat back into it.
lambert's like "wait, so you CAN fucking talk?????"
it all got escalated way out of hand, partially because of eskel's reaction, but also because geralt was too ashamed to stand up for himself-- thought maybe they were a little bit right. was basically just going to curl up and let it happen, which he admits with some gentle prodding, and leaves eskel looking sick.
jaskier, though, is absolutely nuclear levels of pissed, because he was explaining everything, even how he'd known for months, and that geralt was perfectly safe to be around, but all the non werewolf witchers were just tuning him out. and geralt nearly died because of it. so he's, like-- he's unspeakably angry at all three of them.
eventually, they do all four make their way back to the keep(geralt carrying jaskier cuz he's still missing a boot), and explain everything one more time for vesemir. everyone looks pretty ragged, because it was a lot of drama very suddenly late at night.
geralt still hesitates in the doorway of the main hall, says he'll make the keep smell like monsters, that it's dangerous, but jaskier just gently encourages him inside and they curl up together in front of the hearth, nice and warm.
from there its little bits and pieces of geralt showing his werewolfy-er side, like dragging in a deer one night to devour raw by the fire. (he looks bashful about it, but jaskier insists its a part of their routine on the road, helps geralt clean his muzzle afterword.) and jaskier slowly encouraging geralt to relax, come deeper into the keep, curl up in a real bed.
jaskier gets less mad, but never quite gets over the fact that geralt's family proved his fears right. geralt gets less ashamed, but never fully sheds his anxieties about being allowed inside. everyone else gets less tense, but never quite sheds the shame of nearly killing their brother in arms while he was fully cognizant-- or quite comfortable with a "monster in the keep". it's still their first winter, tho, so with any luck things will someday get smoothed out.
[the porny ending is that geralt knots all three of them and this wildly smooths over any remaining tensions, but thats just a little fun off-shoot, not the Official Daydream Ending]
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Meeting and Dating Todd Anderson
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(Not my gif)
(Once again: for the sake of these headcanons let’s pretend the school is unisex)
- You met Todd when you were sent by another teacher to deliver some papers to Mr. Keating. Since Keatings class pretty much consisted of all boys the instant you entered the room all eyes were on you.
- You glanced around the classroom as you waited for Keating to sign the papers, that’s when your eyes met with Todd’s. You sent him a soft smile just as Keating finished. You were almost dissapointed that you couldn’t stay longer and look at the boy as weird as that may sound.
- Neil was the one to push Todd to introduce himself…literally. He pushed him into you forcing him to talk to you.
- He probably apologized like ten times before he even introduced himself all the while blushing bright red. He’s really thankful that you don’t hate him for bumping into you.
- The boy isn’t good at social interactions but he managed to keep up a conversation until you were called away by your friends. You said goodbye and he stuttered out a “I’ll see you around”. Even though everything went fine he still had to give Neil a good punch on the arm for pulling that stunt.
- Over the next month you spoke to Todd more and more. You soon became friends and he began to become comfortable around you.
- Then one day you found out it was his birthday and got him a cupcake with a candle in it. The instant you held it out to him he pulled you into a tight hug.
- After you jokingly sang to him and he blew the candle out you asked him what he wished for. He took a moment to gather his courage before speaking.
“I wished…that you would…agree to gooutwithme.” He nervously rushed at the end before he could back out of his confession.
- Your smile shocked him, he expected to be slapped or something but instead he received a kiss on the cheek and your number written on a page of his desk topper set.
- For your first date you guys go to a small bookstore where there’s not a lot of people and the two of you can just enjoy each other’s company. He probably buys you a book you couldn’t take your eyes off of.
- Your first kiss is a few days later when you’re saying goodbye to him after another date. The sun was just beginning to set as the two of you leaned in and kissed, it would have been a pretty gorgeous photograph.
- After that, even though the two of you never really outwardly say it, you make your relationship official.
- Once he’s comfortable with you he’s actually really funny and playful.
- He’s made you a book full of quotes that reminded him of you.
- He’s just a really thoughtful person in every sense of the word.
- Playing with his hair.
- Wearing his sweaters.
- Call him pretty boy, just please call him pretty boy.
- He’ll wrap you in his coat the instant the wind blows. Honestly he will suffer just so you’re comfortable.
- He likes to take care of you; it makes him feel more important and he genuinely just likes being there for you when you need it.
- He asks for so little but deserves so much.
- Anything other then desk toppers is like a gift from the heavens.
- He says you’re the cute one but we all know it’s him.
- Please don’t bring him to parties. He won’t learn to like it or end up having a good time, he’ll just be uncomfortable.
- He’s pretty clingy once the two of you get together. He feels like he can be himself around you and that’s a rare feeling for him so of course he wants to hold onto that for as long as possible.
- It’s a miracle he was able to ask you out, he’s just basking in the ambience of love at this point.
- He likes to say you’re “the angel that came out of Hellton”.
- He’s actually really romantic but maybe not in the conventional way. His type of romance is sort of innocent and free of societal expectations, it’s just different from everything you’re taught to expect from men and you can’t help but love it.
- On the basis that you need something he can do anything. Stand up to someone, order food, buy something at the store, all the things he would normally avoid and be afraid to do he suddenly has no problem doing.
- Him writing quotes he likes on his arms and yours if he runs out of room.
- He gets really inspirational at random moments. He’ll perk up all of a sudden and you just know that he has a brilliant idea in his head.
- He has a hard time controlling his emotions and impulses, which isn’t necessarily a bad thing, especially when it comes to him. Usually it’s him not being able to stop himself from complimenting you like twelve times in a minute.
- Watching old cartoons with each other.
- Has a surprisingly good eye for decorating and anything that involves being creative even though he doesn’t think he does.
- Has definitely done the ‘y/n + Todd’ in a heart thing more times than he would care to admit.
- You’re definitely going to have to be the one to say “I love you” first and when you do he’ll probably ask you to repeat yourself.
- Theres never any pressure for you to be someone you’re not. The two of you are just your honest selves with each other.
- Neil has found some of Todd’s poetry about you and hes lowkey jealous. He befriends you even though he wants your man to himself. You probably have had a threesome at some point or are just in a poly relationship.
- Reassuring him that his parents do really care about him even if they don’t always show it.
- The boys too nice and too nervous to fight, and if we’re being honest what do you and him have to fight about? Your relationship is kind of perfect yet he’s still so scared you’ll break up with him whenever you seem upset with him.
- Reassuring him that you’re not going anywhere.
- Rehearsing speeches he has to make in class with him to ease his nerves.
- Comforting handholding.
- Helping him with getting around the school and not getting lost.
- You guys try to spend as much time with each other as you can but your schedules make it difficult. When you do see each other he acts like he hasn’t seen you for months even though it’s only been a few days.
- He’s the kind of jealous where he just gets upset when he thinks you’re interested in someone else. You’ll need to pull it out of him when you notice he’s acting different.
- He says it’s nothing for a while, refusing to admit he’s jealous until he finally cant take it anymore and confesses. You kind of find it a bit funny but in the end you just hug him and tell him you don’t want anyone but him.
- Yet if someone where to tell him that you were hot or something like that he would probably slap them. No words are spoken just the sound of skin against skin and probably a gasp or two. Neil was probably there and broke out into a fit of uncontrollable laughter. He thinks you’re hot too but he’ll never tell Todd that.
- He really likes to just hold you whenever he can. World: harsh and cold, titty: warm and soft.
- He’s pretty insecure and is genuinely surprised you want to date him which you cannot believe because look at him.
-Any time you kiss him he’s on cloud nine, even if it’s just on the cheek or forehead.
- He’s surprised when you say you love him but he instantly says it back. He’s wanted to say it for forever but he wasn’t sure when it would be appropriate.
- Taking care of each other.
- Todd can write a mean love poem/letter. He might not like hearing you read it out loud and might think it’s stupid but in reality it’s one of the sweetest things you’ve ever read.
- He’s definitely asked Neil for relationship advice even though he’s probably never had a girlfriend before either.
- Comforting him after Neil’s death. Shut up it didn’t happen.
- Making sure he feels loved because he deserves it.
- Making sure he knows how proud of him you are and how amazing he really is.
- Helping him through his shyness.
- Cuddling with each other all the time. He likes keeping you as close as he can so you usually wind up basically laying on top of him; he has no complaints.
- He sneaks out to see you and you both wind up in the cave. You probably fall asleep there wrapped around each other on top of your jackets.
- Making sure he’s never left out.
- Todd’s a shy person; obviously, he doesn’t like confrontation so he isn’t the type of person to pick fights in your honor but if he hears someone insulting you he’ll occasionally lose his temper. Maybe not try to fistfight the guy but he’ll find a way to get the last laugh.
- He helps you with your work and gives you some tips and tricks to make everything easier.
- He gets embarrassed pretty easily which usually results in him hiding his face behind his hand and his ears reddening.
- He’s always complimenting you. He knows what it feels like to have people pay no attention to you and he never wants you to feel that way.
- You help him gain some confidence.
- Hugs where he rests his head in the crook of your neck.
- He loves you more than anything in the world but this boy is far too nervous to try and bring up the future with you. He knows he wants to keep you in his life and all he can do is hope that you want him in yours.
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