#yeah there is really nothing going on at work why do you ask? | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

darkbluekies · 2 days ago

Text

Til death do us part

Yandere!mafia oc x reader

Summary: A summer romance turns dark as Silas can't accept that you've married someone else

Warnings: kidnapping, murder, blackmail, threats, Silas belittling darling, violence, isolation, jealousy, possessiveness

Word count: 5k

He’s everything you could have ever wanted. He’s sweet, caring and works at a bank. He can provide for you. He’s from a good family. Everything about him is perfect, everything you could ever have dreamt of. You could never have imagined that you would find a man like him after what happened last summer.

You had met a man on the way home from dinner with a friend, someone that had helped you after the grocery bag you had bought food in on the way home. He had introduced himself as ‘Silas’ and had walked you home, carrying the groceries for you. You had thanked him. Silas had asked if you wanted to meet for coffee sometime, and you had agreed, innocently thinking nothing of it. You had gone out with him multiple times. Never actually becoming a couple, but acting like it. It was harmless, you thought. You kissed, went on dates and you knew that if things continued like this, you’d fall for him.

But you noticed that something was weird about him, and it made you feel cautious in his presence. He never told you anything about his life and when you asked, you noticed that something shifted in his dark eyes. As if he tried to come up with a lie. It creeped you out somehow, because why couldn’t he tell you? Maybe you shouldn’t have trusted a man who tried to cover up his tattoos.

You finally got to know the truth at the end of the summer. A friend who had seen the two of you together had recognised him from a newspaper. He was a criminal, a leader of a mob, who was more dangerous than you could have anticipated. You had cut contact with him and moved away so that he wouldn’t be able to find you again.

But he did. Somehow, he did.

Letters have been piling up in your mailbox during these last few weeks, addressed to you and written in red ink. Your heart had stopped when you read the first one.

“Y/N, I’ve missed you. I’ve missed you so terribly much. My heart bleeds and aches for you. You left me because you were scared. I get that. I get that very well, this is a world you should be afraid of, but I will protect you. I will take care of you better than that man ever could. Yeah, I know that you’ve found someone new. I know that you’re planning to get married. Quite quick, don’t you think? You haven’t known him that long, and now you’re getting married? Silly Y/N, you’re so cute. Do you really think you love him? Are you trying to reassure yourself that I’m a part of your past that will never return? Or are you trying to make everyone around you believe that you’ve gotten over me and moved on? I know you still think of me. I know you want me. And I want you too. I have never wanted someone other than you. You and me are meant for each other. Don’t marry him. Come back to me. It’s you and me til the end.”

You hadn’t shown your fiance, but he had noticed that something had been wrong with you. You had become silent and distant. Letter after letter came to your mailbox and he realized that something serious had happened. You had no choice but to tell him about Silas and your past with him, the present he doesn’t want to let go of, and the future he demands. Your fiance had promised that he wouldn’t get to you, and that he was only trying to scare you.

You had been expecting to see Silas at your wedding, but he wasn’t there—or at least you didn’t catch a glimpse of him. Maybe your husband was right? Maybe he was just trying to scare you?

The start of the honeymoon is set to be on the SS Anastasia, a proud liner with three yellow funnels, a solid superstructure and a great reputation. It is set to take the two of you to Spain, where you have decided to have the rest of your honeymoon, away from all eyes and to be with no one but each other.

A steward welcomes you on board. You thank him and give him a smile. He lets you know that your luggage, which you left down at the terminal, will be delivered straight to your cabin, a suite in first class. Only the best for the newlywed couple.

“I’m so excited to see the room”, you admit as the two of you navigate the ship to find the mani staircase.

“The agent said that it would be nice”, your husband replies and chuckles. “Now, if we only could find it …”

You laugh. It takes you nearly ten minutes to find the right door among mazes of identical white doors. The suite is divided into three rooms: a bedroom, a sitting room and a bathroom, all decorated with expensive materials and fashionable colors. Polished dark wood and electric lights.

“This is so nice”, your husband smiles, letting his eyes wander around. “I think we’ll have a good time here.”

You hug him and he chuckles, hugging you back.

“I can’t believe I married you”, he says.

Me neither, you think.

Your mind drifts back to Silas and you feel your heart sink down to your stomach. You won’t be able to relax until you know that the ship has left harbour. There’s a constant, heavy feeling in your chest that you can’t explain. But you tell yourself that it’s just that; a feeling. Nothing more than old worries that haven’t been able to come up to the surface before now. You squeeze the man tighter, sighing out. You’re going to be okay. You’re going to be safe.

You have been promised a fantastic dinner, and the food delivers to your expectations. Everything is tasting like gold, served on a silverplatter. Sitting in the first class dining hall has given you an excuse to dress up. Everyone around is wearing their best clothes, and it is a silent competition in who looks the best. You look around, discreetly admiring everyone else’s attention to detail. You wonder how many of them have spent the entire day in their cabin, doing everything to look their absolutely best. The first night is usually relaxed, but a first time impression will always be remembered.

“What would you like to do after?” your husband asks and sips on his wine.

“I think I need to take a walk”, you joke.

“Oh, yes, the night sky must be so beautiful out on deck. I reckon that you’ll be able to see the stars much easier out here. No city pollution.”

You walk hand in hand down the promenade, looking up at the starry night sky, pointing at familiar shapes.

The next morning, after breakfast, the two of you walk to the lounge, deciding to take a calm day. Well deserved after planning a wedding and executing it. The lounge is cozy, reminding you of a simple living room rather than a first class room on an oceanliner. Maybe to make the passengers feel more at home.

Your husband takes the opportunity to indulge in a newspaper, finally having the time to sit down and actually read it.

You let your eyes wander around the large lounge, enjoying to admire the small details that give the room it’s cozy feel. But the feeling is quickly switched once your eyes land on someone. A man sitting in an armchair on the other side of the lounge, dark eyes feasted onto you, a small smirk playing at his lips when he notices you noticing him. You can feel your body go numb, feel yourself sink through your armchair, through the floor and through the ship’s metal. Feel yourself sink down to the bottom of the pitch black ocean. You forget how to breathe, head going blank.

He found you.

You glance towards your husband who’s still invested in today’s news. Silas raises his eyebrows testingly as you look back at him, as if to say “yes, I’ve noticed him, you think he compares to me?”.

Suddenly the air in the lounge seem to lose all oxygen. You need air, or else you will faint.

“I-I have to get some fresh air”, you hear yourself mumble.

“Are you okay?” your husband asks and looks up from his newspaper, eyes full of worry.

“Yes—”

“Do you want me to come with you?”

“N-No, I’ll be fine, I’ll be back soon.”

You need to get away.

You hurry out of the lounge and out onto the enclosed promenade. The fresh air hits your face harshly. You grab onto the wall to support yourself while trying to find a way to breathe that doesn’t feel like needles poking through your throat.

“You thought I wouldn’t find you?”

You feel your heart stop. Quickly, you spin around, seeing his face way too close to yours. He tilts it, almost mockingly. You back away, stumbling over your feet and hitting your shoulder against the wall. Silas corners you, stopping you from escaping.

“What do you want?” you breathe out shakingly.

“Didn’t you get my letters?” he asks. “Or did you simply not read them?”

“Leave me alone. I-I’m married now.”

He smirks, tilting his head back and putting his hands into the back pockets of his suit pants.

“Indeed, you are”, he says and sighs out. “But do you really think that’s real?”

“What do you mean?” you almost stutter.

Silas meets your eyes. He’s smiling.

“Don’t you think I could have taken you whenever I wanted?” he asks. “The only reason you were able to marry that boring son of a bitch is because I let you. But, in the end, you belong to me. Isn’t that right?”

You don’t answer. You turn your head away, look out over the endless sea, and feel your eyes fill with tears. He wipes your tears with his thumb and you push his hand away.

“I don’t”, you say, wondering where you have gotten the sudden bravery from. “I don’t belong to you. I belong to him.”

You show him the ring on your finger. Silas clenches his jaw and grabs a hold of that hand, forcing it closer. He pulls of the golden ring, scoffs at it and throws it overboard. You gasp and try to run forward, hoping to catch it before it falls too far, but he pushes you back against the wall.

“Don’t ever say that again��, he warns you. “You don’t belong to him, how could you? I met you first. I claimed you first. He will have my seconds. Everything you do to him, you’ve done to me first. And he will never do anything as good as I did.”

“I left you because of this!” you hiss, reminding him.

“No, you left me because you were scared. You don’t understand that you are in more danger if you aren’t with me. I’m the only one that can protect you. I didn’t want you to know about it because I know you’d be scared, but—”, he cups your cheeks, forcing you to look at him, “—but I won’t hurt you. You’re so special to me. I love you so much. You did read my letters, I can see it in your eyes. You know how much I love you.”

“Let me go”, you plead.

“No. It’s you and I til the end, don’t you remember? I’m not letting you go again. I’ve been letting you have your fun for too long now. It’s about time I take you back. I’m not going to hurt you.”

“Don’t hurt him either.”

You can see his eyes darken, his jaw clench. “You decide if it’s going to be violent or not.”

You freeze in his hold.

“You can choose to come back to me, quietly and easy”, Silas starts and caresses your cheek. “We will be happy and your boy will be left alone.” He traces your jaw with his finger. “Or … you reject me and I take out my competition and take you with me once we reach Spain. No one will see you again.”

He seems to tell that you’ve stopped breathing, because he sits you down on one of the sun chairs and massage your throat. Your eyes are stuck onto nothing, empty.

“I will give you until nine”, he whispers in your ear. “If you’re not outside my cabin at nine, A-30, knocking on my door, I will kill him.”

“You’re a liar”, you breathe out, voice barely audible. “You’ll kill him either way …”

Silas shrugs simply. “Maybe, but don’t you want to take your chances? You might save him.”

Silas stands up. You sit frozen.

“Oh, and Y/N?” he says as if remembering something and looks down at you. “If I were you I wouldn’t tell anyone. You know, for obvious reasons.”

He gives you a small, teasing smile before walking back inside. You sit still, not daring to move. Worried that if you move you’ll break down and realise what’s going on. You can feel your heart pound in your ears. No. No, this can’t be happening.

“What are you doing out here?” you hear a familiar voice ask. “You’re going to get sick!”

You feel your husband hang his blazer over your shoulders. The warmth, the familiar scent from him makes your heart hang heavy in your chest. You can’t help but feel like you’ve betrayed him, as if you’ve cheated your relationship, thanks to Silas’s threat. But if you cheat on it, you might save the love of your life. Can you cancel out a bad thing with a bad thing? Is it really a bad thing then? Can you be excused?

You can’t tell him about it, but if you did, would he understand you?

“You don’t look well, actually”, he says and helps you stand. “You’ve probably already gotten sick. You should go lay down and rest.”

He helps you, slow and steady, to your suite. You lay down in bed and he tucks you in.

“Should we ring for a steward?” he asks worriedly. “Ask for some tea and some medicine?”

“No, I’m fine”, you reassure him dimly. “I just need to be alone.”

“I’m worried about you. Something happened to you. I can help you.”

No, you can’t.

“Do you want to be left alone?” he asks.

What if he gets killed?

“No, stay in here”, you wish.

He nods. You hold his hand as you lay with your eyes closed, trying to think of what to do. He was clear; whatever you do, you’ll end up with Silas. The only thing you can choose—maybe—is to save the man holding your hand and whispering reassurance to you. The nicest you can do, in this situation, is to give in and beg Silas to leave him alone. You can’t be prideful and let him kill him.

You find yourself outside cabin A-30 with your head spinning. You don’t want to do this, but what choice do you have? Your first is heavy when you lift it to knock, the sound of your knuckles hitting the polished wood seeming to echo throughout the entire ship. You can hear his footsteps on the other side and see him tower over you when he opens the door. His smirk sends a wave of nausea over you.

“So, you came in the end”, he says cockily. “Good girl/boy.”

You lower your eyes to the floor. Silas steps aside and gestures for you to walk in. You do, on heavy, unresponsive legs. He closes the door behind you, locking it. You gulp. He lingers around you like a snake and you wait for him to put his fangs into your neck and shoot his venom into you.

“You should rest”, Silas says softly and wraps his arms around you from behind, resting his chin on your shoulder. “Let’s go to sleep.”

He leads you to the bed and lays you down, lying down behind you. He doesn’t say anything, doesn’t do anything that could scare you. You try to keep it in, but your body fails you. Sobs, quiet at first, leave your body. Tears run down your face. You hold your hand over your mouth, but Silas is close enough to hear you. He hugs you carefully and you can feel him rest his face into your shoulder.

“There’s no need to worry”, he whispers. “You're back where you belong.”

It only makes you worry more.

“Your crying makes me so sad”, Silas whispers. “Everything will be okay, little thing. You're back now.”

You don't fall asleep that night, and you're sure Silas doesn't either. His grip on you remains tight and controlling, showing no sign of drowsiness.

The sun rises outside the porthole, and you're as wide awake as ever. Silas gets out of bed and starts to dress for the day. You remain in bed, feeling too empty to move. Your eyes fall onto the tattoos on his back and arms, wondering where he got them and what they represented. But something in you tells you that you don’t want to know.

“My darling”, Silas sighs and crouches down in front of the bed, caressing your face. “You don’t need to look so sad. You and me will have fun. We can do more than you ever could with that boy of yours could. My credit card never declines.”

“What are you talking about?” you ask, frowning.

“Oh? You didn't know?” His cocky face is getting on your nerves. “My men did some digging into him, and it seems like he spent a fortune on this honeymoon of yours. Barely anything left in his bank account. Poor thing was really trying to impress you, but the illusion would be all gone once you came back home. I, on the other hand, have all the money in the world.”

“Your money’s dirty.”

“Money’s money. I could launder it, and it’d be clean, but you wouldn’t accept it anyway. Which is why you’ll never get money from me. You’ll get jewelry, food, clothes—anything you want—and all you need to do in return is submit yourself to me.”

You sigh and look away.

“We don’t have to talk about this now”, Silas says and stands up. “But you will submit to me, I know you will. Get dressed now, my love, we’re going to eat breakfast.”

Food is the last thing you want right now.

“I’m not hungry”, you say.

“Do you want to stay in?” he asks. “I can go get you breakfast that you can eat later.”

You nod, whatever will make him leave you alone for a while. Silas gives you a comforting smile and pets your head before leaving the cabin. You take the time to cry, when you know that he can’t see you, planning to stop before he returns, but failing.

“Crying when you think I won’t notice?” he asks and scoffs, just a little bit amused. “Do you think I wouldn’t notice?”

He sets down a tray on the table in the room and walks over to the bed, crouching down and wiping your tears.

“You’re mine”, he says. “Crying about that boy won’t change that fact.”

You don’t answer.

“Will I have to stay in here the entire time?” you ask coldly.

“No”, he says. “Not all the time, but if you want to leave the cabin, you will be by my side. If I were you, I wouldn't try to run away from me or try to tell anyone, because the ship is filled with my men. You don’t know who they are, and they won’t bother you if you behave, but the second I tell them to keep an eye out for you, they will.”

You glare at him.

“But you wouldn’t do that, would you?” Silas asks.

“And then what?” you counter. “When we're in Spain?”

“Oh, we're not staying there. I'm not allowed there. My second in command is waiting for us there and will take us back to America as soon as we arrive.”

Oh …

“I don’t want to go back. Not with you.”

“Well, life's not fair, little thing. You should eat now. I got you all the things you told me that you liked.”

He takes you to the table in the cabin and starts to feed you the bread, the coffee and fruit. You eat, just you comply, too tired to fight with him. Fighting with a wall would be easier. A wall wouldn't talk back. A wall wouldn't threaten you.

“See how much easier it is when you obey?” Silas says.

You give him a quick gaze. He traces your cheek with his fingers.

“I look so much forward to having you all to myself”, he mumbled.

His words send icy shivers down your back.

You stay in the cabin the coming day. You wonder what your real husband is thinking of your disappearance. Sure that Silas has already done something to make him stay away … or worse.

“You're so down, baby”, Silas says. “How about we do something, hm? We have a whole ship to our amusement. There is a game room, a pool, a library, and a squash court. How about that? Why don't we play some squash?”

You nod, just to get out of the cabin. Maybe you can figure something out. Maybe you can hide.

“That's my boy/girl”, Silas says and takes your hand. “Let's go.”

Walking out with him, hand in hand, made you feel horrible. He looked so proud, so cocky.

He took you down to the squash court. He picked up a racquet and bounced a few balls.

“I hope you know the rules”, Silas said with a chuckle. “Or else I will win.”

A man came into the squash court. Silas gave the man a quick, stern look before glancing towards you, and then back at him. This is one of his men, you figure.

“Give me a second, darling”, he says and takes the man aside.

They turn their backs to you, whispering. You glance towards the door. As they mumble about something incoherent, you sneak towards the door, opening it silently and sneaking out. You run, but only get a few meters before a hand rips you back.

“Where do you think you're going?” Silas hisses in your ear.

He slams a hand over your mouth to prevent you from making any sounds and almost you back to the squash court.

“I apologize”, he mutters to his man. “Seems like my baby here can't behave.”

He holds your back firmly against his chest, hand resting securely over your mouth. “They'll learn soon enough, once they learn the consequences.”

You fight against him, but he doesn't budge.

“Stop fighting”, Silas hisses and turns to his man. “I'm sure it won't happen again, ill make sure it won't, but can you tell the others to keep an eye out for this disobedient little shit? If you ever see them wander around alone, you get me immediately. Leave us now, I need to lecture them.”

The man nods, bows slightly and leaves the squash court. Silas lets you go and you back away from him, but he's quick to corner you.

“You don't get it, do you?” he asks, and sounds a tad bit amused. “You can't escape me. And, come on, trying to do that on a ship? I really thought you were smarter than that. Where would you go? The only place you could flee would be to jump overboard. But you're stupid, not suicidal. And now, all my men keep an eye out. Just accept that your place is here, with me.”

“I want my fucking husband!” you scream. “You aren't my husband, you're a low life criminal!”

Silas’s eyes darken.

“Okay then”, he says, slowly. “If you want him so badly, go look for him. Go find him. If you do, I'll let you go with him. If not, you're mine.”

“Your men will take me back to you.”

“I'll tell them to leave you as long as you don't talk to anyone. Search everywhere. Go to the lower classes, for all I care.”

“What have you done to him?”

He smiles slightly, but it's not one out of genuine happiness, but of mockery. “Do you really want to know?”

You turn around and leave. He follows you. You barely have time to walk down the corridor before a man takes a hold of your arm. A different man from before.

“You're not supposed to walk around”, he says.

“It's okay”, Silas says a few steps behind you.

He wears his chin high, a smirk on his face and his hands in his front pockets. You rip your arm from the strange man's hold.

“My baby is using their brain”, Silas says and reaches the two of you. “We'll see where that gets them. Keep an eye so that they don't talk to anyone. We don't want to encourage talking to strangers, now do we, little thing?”

You glare at him.

“Go, then”, Silas says. “What are you waiting for?”

You don't like how he's changed. Just five minutes earlier he was set on making sure you wouldn't wander … and now he encourages it. Something has happened to your husband and you want to find him as quickly as possible.

You walk away, leaving Silas and his man in the corridor outside the squash court. You're not sure where to start. As soon as you get out of their sight, you stop and sink down alongside the wall. Needing to just catch your breath.

But you don't linger too long. Before you change your mind, you stand up and start to walk. You end up walking back and forth for hours, sure that every eye that lands on you is a member of Silas’s organization, someone being paid to make sure you obey.

You search every little corner on the ship, but your husband is nowhere to be seen. Your suite is empty, but there are signs of struggle. A glass lying on the floor, more than one person's shoe marks on the carpet. You walk over to his suitcase and take out one of his shirts. Crying as you hold it.

“Any luck?” you suddenly hear him say.

Your blurry eyes dart to the open door, seeing him lean against the frame with his arms crossed over his chest. He looks so nonchalant, so careless. How can he?

“There are words for people like you”, you sniffle with a voice draped in hate. “Did you know that?”

“What word?”

“Inhuman.”

Silas scoffs out a small smile. “If only you were as smart with thinking as you were with words, you’d have figured it out by now.”

“What?”

“You haven’t found him anywhere on the ship, and you’ve been looking for hours.”

He doesn’t have to remind you. Your aching feet is enough to make you feel your loss.

“What did you do to him?” you ask weakly.

“I have already told you, if you listened to me, you’d figured it out earlier. I said that there is only one way to escape me.”

Your eyes widen as you dart your eyes to the round porthole.

“Atta girl/boy”, Silas says, voice smooth as honey as he walks over to you.

“Y-You … y-you …”

“Don’t look at me. I didn’t do it.”

“You ordered it.”

“Are we back to the ‘dirty money’ thing again? Does it matter if I gave the instructions or not? It happened, and even if I said I gave the instructions, you wouldn’t take it.”

You hang your head heavy in your hands, crying. Silas hugs you and you try to fight back, but he doesn’t let you go. He holds you tightly, his rough hands keeping you against his body.

“Now that he’s gone, you have no other choice than to accept me whole heartedly”, he whispers in your ear. “You have no one else. Only me. Until the end of time, til death do us part.”

You sob in his hold, wanting nothing more than to escape. You manage to glance towards the porthole.

Silas holds your hand in a tight, painful grip as you walk off the ship, surrounded by a few of his men. People on the dock cheer and welcome their loved ones, but you’re pulled right through the crowd. You can’t hear any of them, your own sorrow drowning out all sounds of happiness. Silas takes you over to a car. A black haired man leans against it, but stands straight when he sees Silas. His second in command.

“Boss, there you are”, he says with a small smile. “Did you have a good voyage?”

Silas lifts your tightly intertwined hands with a smirk on his face. “What do you think?”

The second in command looks at you up and down and smirks. “Congratulations.”

“I wish we could stay here but if the cops get me I’ll be in trouble”, Silas says and pulls you close. “Let’s go to the yacht before we’re noticed.”

He helps you into the automobile and you’re off, on the way to the ship that will take you back to America. Tears run down your face silently. You shut them, trying to imagine yourself in another place, somewhere far away from Silas and his evil entourage. Somewhere where you had never crossed paths with him. Somewhere where things had turned out different. A bump in the road forces your eyes open again and you’re pulled back into the car that will take you straight to your own personalized hell, with a man who is ready to kill for you. You wish you had never allowed him to carry your groceries.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere oc x you #yandere mafia #yandere oc x reader #yandere oc

725 notes · View notes

seasprincess · 2 days ago

Text

Love is in the air? 💘

pt 1 || pt 2

Spencer Reid x reader. !fluff

Synopsis: a certain agent has picked up on a little chemistry between you and genius

warnings: none

Spencer Reid is a genius. Everyone knows it. With his 187 IQ, ability to read 20,000 words per minute and knowledge on so many subjects.

But they all mean nothing when you’re involved.

He shouldn’t get like this around you. Get all flustered and shy. Tripping over words when his eyes lock with yours. Watching as you bat your eyelashes at him when he goes on one of his rambles. Everyone else wants him to be quiet, but you? You look and listen to him like he's a prophet and you're his die hard follower.

But as Spencer lacks in the relationship department it means he doesn't catch onto the way you flirt with him. The way you smile and laugh a bit too hard at his jokes the rest of the team didn’t even crack a smile for. He’s blind when it comes to all the signs that you like him back.

But the rest of the team isn’t blind to those eyes you give him. For them it’s like watching a cartoon character’s eyes turn into hearts everytime you look at the genius.

But there’s one person on the team who notices these little glances between you too. Notices the way Spencer stares at you. And he’s decided to play cupid.

Ladies man Derek Morgan is sat across from you on the jet. Smirking as he gestures for you to take off the headphones that were blasting some new pop song.

“Yeah?” You say as you look at him, slightly on edge because of the muscular man's smirk. His eyes show that this conversation is going to make you uncomfortable. Thank god the rest of the team are either asleep or distracted doing something else.

“So you and Reid. What's going on?” The agent says as he tilts his head slightly. Of course he’s going to use his detective skills to use and analyse you.

With his words your cheeks heat up like the plane had suddenly just got really warm. You feel warm. A blush spread across your cheeks too. Usually you'd try to play off these reactions. And you're gonna do just that now.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You try to stay calm, try to not show that his words are affecting you. Why is he asking anyway? Has Reid asked about you? Oh god what if he thinks you're weird? What if Morgan tells him?

“You very much do know what I’m talking about.”

You sigh and put your hands over your face, trying to block out the smirking man that’s asking you the question that makes you want to run home and hide your face in a pillow.

“Is it that obvious?” You say as you look over at Spencer who is fast asleep. He's in the fetal position on the sofa. His arm propped under his head as a makeshift pillow. Completely knocked out from the latest case. He looks so calm which is not a usual look. He’s usually moving about or his mind is running at a million miles per hour. Seeing him like this makes your heart clench, he looks so cute and sweet and-oh my god. You've got it bad.

“It’s obvious to everyone but pretty boy.” Derek’s eyes glance to sleeping Spencer. Not looking at him with the same admiration as you.

You groan again as your forehead is placed on the table in front of you. Work strictly bans relationships between two members but there was no way in denying nor moving past the little situationship between you and the smart guy of the team. You could try to hide it but you'd never be able to get over it. Neither would he. You’re both whipped for each other in whatever geeky way that you both can be.

Spencer and you both being geeky when it comes to your interests meant you both like the same things and that you understand some of his references. Heavy on the some, cause sometimes you have no idea what he’s talking about. His references are just a bit too niche for you to grasp.

“Talk to him.” Derek says casually. Like he hasn't asked you to do one of the most stressful things you can think of involving your personal life.

“Absolutely not.” You reply as you say as you sit up straight in the seat. The jet finally coming in to land after what feels like a

“You gotta do it or you’ll regret it.” He doesn’t give you time to fire back before he leaves your gossip spot, presumably heading for the exit. Which is where he’s going. Not before he hits the sleeping boy's knee to wake him up, making your plan of sneaking past him nearly impossible. Derek just flashes you a smirk before exiting.

Sencer rubs his eyes as he slowly sits up, not wanting to move too quickly to avoid feeling dizzy. He glances down at his watch to only realise he had slept practically the whole journey. People walk past him, saying their goodbyes as he says bye too. Not coherent as he's still sleepy. He looks around the jet before his eyes land on you. You were packing up your things, getting ready to go back to your apartment and probably just crash. The case was really hard on all of you. But Spencer knows you struggle to sleep on planes otherwise he knows you would be fast asleep.

“Good nap?” You say with that sweet smile of yours that makes Spencer’s heart just melt. He has completely and utterly fallen for you. He looks at you softly. His brown eyes look at you softly. From your point of view it’s like looking into a deer's eyes. The big brown orbs looking at you with the sweetest look you've ever seen. But of course you’ll brush it off with the fact it’s because he’s just woken up and not because he could possibly like you.

“Oh um, can’t complain. Other than the fact I have more of my book to read now before I can sleep. Again.” Spencer likes to read a certain amount each night. Not that it takes him any significant amount of words per minute. He could do it in about three minutes.

Spencer reaches down to grab his book that had fallen to the ground due to his snooze.

“Hey so, um, I was wondering.” You say quickly before you can take it back and stop yourself. You know you need to get it out before you change your mind.

“Go for it.” He says with a smile. Standing up and looking into your eyes.

And your brain just melts, you can’t help it. You freeze on the spot and suddenly this seems like a really bad idea. It would be too awkward if he rejected you. What if he thought you were weird? Oh god. This is not a good idea.

“It can wait till tomorrow.” You say, covering up the emotions behind the words you wish you could say. “I’ll see you then. Good night.”

Spencer doesn’t get a chance to react before you've left.

And all he can do is wonder what the hell you were gonna say.

And what he wishes he could’ve said to you.

Part 2

a/n: not proof read😛

@littlelamy

393 notes · View notes

v4mpire45 · 3 days ago

Text

Dating Headcanons — K. Bakugo

Remember, these are just my personal opinions. You don't have to agree.

Synopsis: In which I give my personal Katsuki dating Headcanons.

Author's note: These headcanons work for pre-timeskip and after. Although, I do plan to do one that's specifically after the war.

1. Loves Having His Back Scratched.

If you have nails, you’ve basically unlocked his secret weakness. He won’t outright ask for it, but if you’re lying next to him and start absentmindedly running your nails down his back, he’ll melt.

Sometimes he’ll lean into your touch subtly, pretending it’s no big deal, but if you stop too soon, he might grumble, “Tch, you can keep going, y’know.”

If he’s had a rough day, nothing relaxes him more than you scratching his back while he rests his head on your lap.

2. Struggles to say “I love you.”

Those words feel too big for him, and he’s never been great at voicing emotions. But that doesn’t mean he doesn’t show it.

His way of showing it is the three squeezes, whether on your hand, your side, or even your knee under the table, is his silent way of saying what he can’t. If you ever squeeze back, expect a smug little smirk.

3. Nicknames Over Pet Names.

You will never hear princess, sweetheart, or baby girl from him. Ever. It’s just not his style.

But he will call you by a shortened version of your name. For example, Julia turns into Jules (Shout out to the girl's named Julia).

If you manage to get a rare “babe” out of him, it’s probably when he’s half-asleep, distracted, when you're mad, or after a really good kiss.

4. Hates Silent Treatment, but Also Sucks at communicating.

If you’re mad at him and won’t talk about it, it drives him insane. He can’t fix something if he doesn’t know what’s wrong!

But he’s just as bad at communicating his own feelings, so expect some stubborn stand-offs. And a ton of fights about how to communicate properly.

Eventually, his frustration will get the better of him, and he’ll blurt out something like, “Just spit it out already, I ain’t a mind reader!”

If you call him out for not talking about his feelings, he’ll get defensive: “That’s different!” (It’s not).

5. Smells Like Caramel and Bananas.

It’s a mix of his natural scent and whatever shower gel he grabs at the store. Without cologne, he carries a warm, slightly sweet scent of burnt caramel and ripe bananas.

With cologne, he goes for something woody and a little spicy, think cedarwood, pepper, and maybe a hint of citrus. It makes him smell good.

6. Takes the Relationship Seriously.

He never expected to be in a relationship, so if he’s with you, it’s because you genuinely mean something to him.

He treats it like training. He wants to be the best at it. Low-key competitive, about it, too. If another couple does something cute, he might scoff but secretly wonder if he should step up his game.

The idea of messing this up terrifies him, so he tries (in his own way) to make sure you’re happy.

7. Rarely Gets Jealous, But When He Does...

He’s confident. If he didn’t trust you, you wouldn’t be together in the first place.

But if he does feel a little jealous, he handles it one of two ways:

The subtle approach: casually resting his arm around your shoulders or pulling you closer, just enough to make it clear you’re his.

The usual crash out approach: if he’s already in a bad mood, expect some aggressive “Tch, why’s that extra clinging to you?” remarks or an over-the-top display of how much better he is.

8. Not a fan of PDA, but Likes Close Proximity.

He’s not the type to kiss you in public or act all lovey-dovey where others can see. It makes him uncomfortable (low-key, me too).

However, he does like having you close. Holding your hand? Fine. Arm around your shoulders? Yeah, that’s manageable.

He thrives in those casual, low-key moments, sitting next to you with his knee touching yours, letting you lean into him, or absentmindedly fiddling with your fingers when no one’s looking.

9. Loves Taking You Out on Dates (But Keeps Them Low-Key).

Contrary to what some might think, he does take you on dates. He just prefers them to be chill rather than extravagant.

Movie nights, cooking dinner together, going on late-night walks, watching the stars, or training together (sparring is a love language to him).

If he does something more planned, it’s probably because Kirishima said, “Dude, take them somewhere nice.” Or it's a special event such as your birthday.

10. Love language? Acts of Service:

He’s the “I fixed it for you” boyfriend. Won’t say he cares, but your stuff is always in working order. Also, really appreciate it when you do something for him.

Physical touch isn't his thing, and neither are words, so this is his way of showing you he cares.

If you drop your bag, he'll pick it up and carry it for the rest of the day, probably grumbling about how you should be more careful with your stuff.

#boku no hero academia #katsuki bakugou #bnha bakugou #bakugou katsuki #bakugo headcanons #bakugo fluff #fluff #headcanon #katsuki bakugo mha #bnha bakugo katsuki #divider by cafekitsune #bnha #katsuki bakugo x y/n #bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugo x you #bnha headcanons #mha bakugou

168 notes · View notes

nana-mizu-shiki · 14 hours ago

Text

Nobody else at the party had seen when the boy had left, just knew that he did when Vlad Masters had thrown a fit looking for him. Luckily for the guests, a friend (?) of the boy had made him aware of the fact that he had left via taxi, Miss Samantha Mason.

The Waynes had stuck together since the boy had injured Mr. Drake-Wayne, wary but continuing the party, minus Mr. Drake-Wayne himself and Mr. Grayson.

Now, Tim and Dick were in a bathroom near their rooms, cleaning up Tim's slowly bleeding nose. Kid had a surprisingly good punch.

~~~~~~~~~~~◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇~~~~~~~~~~

"I just, I don't get it? What could Masters be up to that his ward is willing to physically harm someone as high-profile as us just to stop him? We have no idea how he got his wealth, but his ward does, and instead of telling someone he's just stopping them from interacting with him. Why? How shady is it? Is he holding something over his ward? Why go through all this trouble?"

Dick shrugged, not paying much attention to Tim's rambling. It all came down to the same question anyway. Why did Masters ward do what he did the way he did it?

Tim sighed. Dick told him what he overheard as soon as he was able to pull Tim away from the party, texting the rest of the family a summary separately.

"Y'know," Dick began, leaning on the sink, "There is a way to find the answers to your questions.."

Tim looked over suspiciously at Dicks mischievous tone of voice. "Hm?"

"Ask." Tim blinked blankly at his brother. "Make a file for him, find where you can find him, run into him, talk, then ask. Seems pretty easy to me."

The smirk on his older brother's face spelled nothing good, but Tim was secretly planning a way to meet his punch-boy again anyway. He side-eyes his brother.

"Hm." He looked back at the mirror. "...Maybe."

~~~~~~~~~~~◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇~~~~~~~~~~

Daniel Jonathan Nightengale Fenton. Masters (maybe).

Tim. Liked. The name. Mhm. Yep.

Daniel is 16 years old and was born in Amity Park, Illinois, to doctors Jack and Madaline Fenton. Currently lives in Wisconsin, as the ward of Vladimir Masters. His sister is attending a University in Metropolis for psychology on a scholarship next fall. Has expressed interest in moving in with her on social media. Has other connections with Samantha Manson and Tucker Foley, the daughter of a wealthy family and an expected scholarship student to MIT. No other notable connections. Has also expressed interest in space exploration on social media, but has mentioned being unable to due to health issues (*Come back to this later, Tim), and has mentioned wanting to go into engineering instead.

There was other stuff Tim found about Daniel when stalking looking into him, but this was what he found important.

If he was able to move in with his sister, the chances of Tim meeting him again increased drastically.

And well, a little hacking never hurt anybody.

~~~~~~~~~~~◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇~~~~~~~~~~

Danny was fucking ecstatic.

Ellie had offered, very casually so it was obviously set up, but whatever, to watch over Vlad for him so he could stay with Jazz, at least for a little while. Danny felt kind of bad about it, felt like he was using his big sister, but she had been the one to offer and was very insistent. And that was before he was stuck with Vlad and...

Danny was happy with his sister. She got a full scholarship to the school of her dreams, of course he's happy! And they get to live in a really nice apartment because it's in Metropolis!

So, yeah. Danny's happy. Plus, now he's finally got a job.

~~~~~~~~~~~◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇~~~~~~~~~~

Tim.... might be going a little overboard.

Whatever, Kons not saying anything so Tim's not going to stop.

.....Maybe he'll only bring 50 of the 100 roses.

Anyways, Tim was waiting a block away from the small diner Daniel worked at in his car, consistently checking the time for when he should go inside.

....It wasn't stalking, shut up....

Tim got out of the car with 50 of the roses and walked into the diner casually, knowing that it closed in 20 minutes.

....Maybe he should have come sooner. Whatever.

When he walked in though, it was apparently in the middle of a robbery. Where Danny was decking the robber as he jumped over the counter.

The place was silent as the attempted-robber passed out with one hit.

Tim cleared his throat.

"Ah, Daniel, I know we met only once, but I’d really like to get to know you better." There's music in Tim's inner thoughts that soften, and Tim holds out the roses for Danny. "Would you please go on a date with me?"

Sorry, Rich Boy

If there was anything Danny hated more than anything, it was doing what Vlad wanted him to do. Especially when he'd done it thinking it was against the fruitloop's wishes and the man gave him that smirk that tells him Danny had played right into the fuckers hands.

So Danny had gotten good at sniffing out a scheme. And, honestly, he didn't need to do much sniffing here.

Vlad had invited him as a plus one to a Wayne (Yes, that Wayne. Brucie Goddamn Wayne.) Gala, meant to take place only a few days from now. Vlad must have suspected Danny would never agree, would have thought it was another attempt for Danny's loyalty where none of his friends could help. Unfortunately for Vlad, Danny was a spiteful fuck and he wouldn't let Vlad go to a Gala full of rich fools alone. Not when Vlad had previously admitted to how he'd gotten his fortune in the first place.

So, there Danny was, keeping an eye on Vlad. At a Wayne Gala. In Gotham, New Jersey. Fuck his half-life.

It was a horrible idea, really. The suit is stuffy, the room is stuffy, and the people are fucking stuffy. He hangs around the food for the most part, only because Vlad keeps coming back to it which makes keeping an eye on the guy somewhat easier. He admits coming was a good idea only when he sees Vlad making buddies with the Wayne troop themselves and that smirk is on his face. Well, fuck that.

He catalogs the group; not including Bruce Wayne there is a scowling child (immediately off the table, he’s not some fucko like Vlad okay), two teenage boys (one of them black and built like a small brick wall. The other a white boy, scrawny as hell, and looking a breeze away from passing out), two teenage girls (one a peppy blonde and the other a ravenette, off to the side laughing together), and a man (big).

Overall, if he had to pick who to go after to cause the most fuss, it’d be the kid. However, he has morals, so he sets his sights on the skinny white boy instead. He’s skinny, obviously, but upon a closer look has some muscle on him that makes Danny less guilty for his choice. Sorry, rich boy, but Danny has a godfather to piss off.

He sets down his drink, walks over, and decks the poor boy in the face. The look of horror on Vlad's face is well worth the absolute confusion coating the entire group.

And, just for the cherry on top, he turns to Brucie Wayne and the fruitloop, "Your Gala sucks and so does your city. Fuck this place, never bring me here ever again Vlad."

398 notes · View notes

heartsriki · 1 day ago

Text

OUR WHITE GARDEN ⌇ 정원

FLIRT ALERT! series⌇ Sunghoon | Next

pairing ᝰ sunghoon x fem!reader | word count: 4k+

⌇ … warnings & genre ↺ love at first sight (?), fluff, there really is no warnings…

synopsis — On Valentine’s Day, you discover a serene white garden where you meet Sunghoon, a quiet stranger who appears to visit often. As you talk amidst the flowers, a silent connection forms between you two, leaving you both intrigued and wondering if your paths were meant to cross.

lee's ₊˚⊹ ᰔ comment ┊sorrryyy guys ive been working but I finally finished it! Love a good love at first sight kind of trope, anyways sunoo is next!

Valentine’s Day had always been a little too loud for your liking. The city was filled with red and pink decorations, couples exchanging gifts on every street corner, and the overwhelming scent of roses spilling from shop windows. It wasn’t that you disliked the holiday—it just wasn’t for you. So, instead of watching the festival unfold around you, you wandered.

That was how you found the garden.

It was hidden behind a narrow, ivy-covered archway at the edge of the park, almost as if it didn’t want to be found. Pushing past the gate, you stepped inside and felt the world grow quiet.

Everything was white.

Delicate camellias, full-bloomed roses, clusters of baby’s breath—the entire garden was bathed in soft, pale hues, untouched by the reds and pinks of the world outside. A thin stone path wound through the space, disappearing into the sea of flowers. The scent in the air was light and fresh, nothing overwhelming, just a whisper of jasmine and earth.

For a moment, you simply stood there, taking it in.

Then you noticed you weren’t alone.

A man stood near the center of the garden, dressed in a cream-colored sweater and dark slacks. His dark hair fell over his forehead slightly, and his posture was casual, hands in his pockets, shoulders slightly hunched. He wasn’t admiring the flowers or looking around—he just stood there, as if lost in thought.

You hadn’t made a sound, but somehow, he sensed you. His head lifted, and sharp eyes locked onto yours.

The moment stretched between you, tense and unreadable.

“Who are you?” His voice was cool, but wary.

You blinked. “What?”

He exhaled, glancing away. “This isn’t a public garden.”

You frowned, glancing around. There had been no signs saying it was private. “Then why was the gate open?…. And why are you here?”

His jaw tightened slightly, but he didn’t answer. Instead, he turned his attention back to the flowers at his feet, dismissing you without another word.

Something about his attitude rubbed you the wrong way. If no one was supposed to be in here, why was he standing in the middle of it like he owned it.

Still, you weren’t in the mood to argue. The garden was peaceful, and he didn’t seem like he was going to physically throw you out, so you took a slow step forward.

“I didn’t know this place existed,” you said, more to yourself than to him. “It’s… nice.”

He didn’t respond.

You watched as his fingers absently brushed against a white rose, his expression unreadable. He wasn’t outright hostile, but there was a quiet, closed-off nature about him—like someone who didn’t want to be bothered but had accepted that he had been.

“Do you come here a lot?” you asked, filling the silence.

This time, he glanced at you again, his gaze measured. “Yeah.”

You waited, expecting him to elaborate. He didn’t.

“…Right,” you muttered under your breath, resisting the urge to roll your eyes.

Another gust of wind blew through the garden, rustling the petals. You weren’t sure why you didn’t leave right then—why you stood there, letting the silence stretch between you and a man who clearly didn’t want company. But something about this place, made you hesitate.

Instead of walking away, you moved to the edge of the path and knelt beside a patch of baby’s breath, running your fingers lightly over the tiny white blossoms.

“I can see why you come here,” you said quietly. “It feels… separate from everything else.”

He didn’t answer immediately. When he finally spoke, his voice was softer, but still distant.

“Yes, it’s peaceful.”

It wasn’t much, but it was something.

And though he didn’t say another word, though his posture remained guarded and his gaze unreadable, you had the strange feeling that you’d just stepped into something that you weren’t meant to find.

Something that, despite his indifference, he wasn’t desperate to push you out of just yet.

The next day, you found yourself standing in front of the ivy-covered archway again.

You told yourself you weren’t intentionally seeking it out. Maybe your feet had simply led you here, drawn by the memory of quiet solitude, of a world untouched by the chaos of the city. But as your fingers brushed over the wrought-iron gate, slightly colder than yesterday, you knew that wasn’t entirely true.

You were curious.

Curious about the garden, about the strange serenity it carried, but more than anything—curious about him.

Pushing the gate open, you stepped inside.

The air was just as crisp as before, carrying the same light scent of camellias and jasmine. The flowers remained undisturbed, their pale petals swaying gently in the breeze, as if they hadn’t noticed the time that had passed. Everything was the same.

Except this time, he wasn’t standing in the center.

For a moment, you thought he wasn’t here at all. But then, just as you took another step forward, you caught movement near the trellis. He was there, half-hidden by the white roses climbing the frame, his back partially turned to you.

You hesitated, wondering if you should say something—or if he’d even acknowledge you at all. Yesterday, he hadn’t exactly been welcoming. And yet, here you were again.

Before you could decide, he spoke.

“You came back.”

His voice was quiet, but there was something beneath it—something that made your pulse skip, just slightly.

You tilted your head. “You don’t sound happy about it.”

He exhaled sharply, not quite a sigh, but close. “It’s just surprising.”

You took a slow step forward, watching the way his shoulders tensed slightly before relaxing. “Why?”

This time, he turned his head, his dark eyes meeting yours beneath the cool light of the afternoon.

“Most people don’t come back.”

The way he said it—it wasn’t an accusation, but it wasn’t neutral either. There was something heavier beneath those words, something unspoken.

You let them settle between you for a moment before shrugging. “Maybe I’m not most people?”

His gaze lingered on you, unreadable. Then, to your surprise, the corner of his lips twitched—so slight you almost thought you imagined it.

“we’ll see,” he murmured.

Something about that single word sent warmth curling in your chest.

You let the silence stretch between you again, but this time, it wasn’t as tense. It was filled with quiet curiosity, an awareness that hadn’t been there the day before. His posture remained guarded, but he wasn’t ignoring you. In fact, you could feel his attention on you even when he wasn’t looking directly at you.

It was strange, the way you were drawn to him—someone who had barely spoken to you, who had made no effort to be welcoming. And yet, here you were, standing amidst the sea of white flowers, feeling like you had been let in on something secret.

Slowly, you knelt down near a patch of camellias, running your fingers lightly over the petals. “Do you have a favorite?”

For a moment, you thought he wouldn’t answer. But then, his voice came, quieter than before.

“White roses.”

You glanced up at him. “Why?”

His gaze flickered toward the trellis, where they climbed in thick, elegant clusters. He didn’t answer right away, as if debating whether to share the thought aloud. Then, finally—

“They don’t need anything else to stand out. They’re just… enough.”

Something about the way he said it made your breath catch.

You swallowed, looking back at the flower in your hand. “I think I get that.”

He hummed, almost like he was testing whether or not to believe you. And though he still held himself at a distance, though his words were few and his expression carefully guarded, you couldn’t ignore the feeling settling between you.

A quiet pull.

A breeze drifted through the garden, carrying the scent of roses and something unspoken between you. The silence stretched, not awkward, but charged—like the moment before a storm, where the air thickens and waits.

Sunghoon hadn’t moved from his place near the trellis, but his presence felt closer now, as if the space between you was shrinking without either of you stepping forward.

You let your fingers trail along the petal of the camellia in your grasp, watching the way his eyes flickered toward the motion.

“What about you?” he asked suddenly, voice low.

You blinked, caught off guard. “What about me?”

“Your favorite.” His gaze stayed on you this time, steady and unreadable.

You hesitated, glancing around at the sea of pale flowers surrounding you. “I don’t know.”

Sunghoon tilted his head slightly, as if he wasn’t sure whether or not to believe you. “You don’t have one?”

You bit your lip. “I guess… I like the ones that surprise me.”

His brows drew together. “Surprise you?”

You nodded, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “Yeah. The ones you don’t expect to like, but then suddenly, they’re all you notice.”

The second the words left your lips, you realized how they sounded. Your breath hitched slightly as his expression shifted—just barely, but enough. A slow understanding passed through his gaze, and for the first time, you saw something crack in that carefully held distance of his.

“Are we still talking about flowers?” His voice was quieter now, a little bit teasing, like a thread pulling tight between you.

You swallowed. “Maybe.”

The weight of the admission hung between you both, heavy and electrified. Sunghoon held your gaze for a long moment, his fingers twitching slightly at his sides. For the first time, he looked almost uncertain—like he wasn’t used to being the one caught off guard.

But he recovered quickly.

“Careful,” he murmured, his voice dipping lower, more deliberate. “Saying things like that causes trouble.”

You tilted your head, heat creeping up your neck. “And why’s that?”

He exhaled slowly, as if debating how much he wanted to give away. Then—so subtle you almost missed it—his gaze flickered to your lips.

It was brief, barely a second, but it sent something rushing through you—like standing too close to a fire, feeling the heat prickle at your skin but not moving away. He noticed your reaction, the way your lips parted slightly in surprise, and something in his expression shifted.

Not distant. Not indifferent.

Curious.

You swore you saw his fingers twitch again, like he had thought about reaching for you but held himself back.

And then—finally, after what felt like forever—Sunghoon took a slow step closer.

It wasn’t much, barely enough to bridge the space between you, but you felt it in your bones. The weight of it. The quiet choice in it.

And somehow, that silence between you spoke the loudest of all.

Then, his voice, quieter than before.

“Were you alone yesterday?”

The question caught you off guard.

You blinked, searching his face. “On Valentine’s Day?”

He didn’t answer, but the way his eyes held yours said enough.

A slow smile tugged at the corner of your lips. “Why do you ask?”

Sunghoon didn’t react right away. If anything, he seemed to catch himself—like he hadn’t meant to ask, like he was realizing too late that the words had already left his mouth.

His jaw tightened slightly. “Just wondering.”

Your smile grew. “Mm. Just wondering?”

He exhaled sharply, turning his gaze away for a moment as if debating whether or not to continue this conversation. You weren’t letting him off that easily.

“So,” you mused, fingers absentmindedly brushing over the petals of a nearby rose. “Were you hoping I’d say yes?”

His gaze snapped back to yours, sharp and unreadable. “What?”

You tilted your head playfully. “That I was alone.”

Sunghoon didn’t answer immediately, but something flickered in his expression, something caught between irritation and amusement—like he wasn’t sure whether to be annoyed by your teasing or intrigued by it.

“…I just asked a question,” he muttered.

“You did,” you agreed, eyes glinting. “And I’m answering it.”

His stare didn’t waver, but you swore you saw the tiniest shift—the way his lips pressed together like he was holding back something, the way his fingers curled slightly at his sides.

Finally, after a long pause, he sighed. “You’re annoying.”

You grinned. “I’ve heard.”

Another breeze passed between you, rustling the petals around your feet, but neither of you moved. The air between you had changed—no longer distant, no longer uncertain. There was something beneath the surface now, something neither of you were saying but both of you felt.

“Okay,” you said finally, giving in just a little. “If you must know, yes. I was alone on valentine’s day.”

Sunghoon’s expression didn’t change right away, but you didn’t miss the way his shoulders relaxed just slightly, as if some part of him had been waiting for that answer.

“Hm.” He exhaled, tilting his head. “You don’t seem bothered by it.”

“I wasn’t.” You gave him a small, knowing smile. “Besides, I wasn’t completely alone, was I?”

His breath caught just slightly. It was so subtle, so quiet, that you almost thought you imagined it. But you didn’t.

Sunghoon studied you for a long moment, something lingering in his gaze. Then, slowly—so subtly you almost missed it—his lips twitched.

Not quite a smile. But close.

And, that was enough.

Days passed. Then weeks.

And somehow, without either of you explicitly saying so, the garden became yours.

You never made plans to meet there, never acknowledged that you both kept coming back, but every time you pushed open the ivy-covered gate, Sunghoon was there. Some days he arrived before you, leaning against the trellis with his hands in his pockets, eyes trailing lazily over the petals like they held secrets only he could understand. Other times, you were the first to step into the quiet sanctuary, and minutes later, you’d hear the soft crunch of his footsteps against the stone path, like clockwork.

It became something unspoken between you—a delicate, wordless understanding.

At first, he was still reserved. You’d greet him, and he’d respond with a short nod, eyes flickering toward you in acknowledgment but never lingering too long. Conversations started slow, hesitant, like a dance neither of you quite knew the steps to. But over time, the silences between you stopped feeling distant. They became comfortable, filled with quiet gestures—a shared glance when the wind knocked petals from the trellis, a subtle shift in his stance when he stood a little closer than before.

And then, one day, something changed.

You were sitting on the stone bench near the roses, absentmindedly tracing shapes against the cool surface, when Sunghoon spoke.

“You talk a lot.”

You blinked up at him, caught off guard. “Excuse me?”

He stood a few feet away, hands still tucked in his pockets, but there was something different about his expression today—something lighter. Amused, even.

“I’m just saying,” he continued, tilting his head slightly. “For someone who claims to like quiet places, you fill the silence pretty fast.”

You scoffed, crossing your arms. “I wouldn’t have to if you actually contributed to the conversation.”

A soft chuckle escaped him, barely audible, but you caught it. Your eyes widened slightly, more out of shock than anything else.

“Wait.” You leaned forward. “Did you just laugh?”

He exhaled sharply, shaking his head. “No.”

“You did.” A grin spread across your face. “I can’t believe it. Sunghoon, Mr. Nonchalant, actually laughed at something I said.”

He rolled his eyes but didn’t deny it. Instead, he lowered himself onto the bench beside you, careful to leave some space but not too much. His presence was warmer than before, his posture more at ease, and for the first time since you’d met him, it felt like he wasn’t holding something back.

A comfortable silence settled between you, the soft rustling of petals filling the air. Then, after a moment, he spoke again—quieter this time.

“…Why do you keep coming back here?”

You glanced at him, slightly surprised by the question. His gaze was fixed on the flowers in front of you, as if he wasn’t sure he wanted to meet your eyes.

“I like it here,” you said simply.

He hummed, but there was something thoughtful in his expression, like he wasn’t entirely convinced.

“And,” you added after a beat, nudging his knee lightly with yours, “I guess I like bothering you too.”

This time, when his lips twitched, he didn’t try to hide it.

It wasn’t a full smile. But it was closer than before.

The air felt heavier today.

Not in a stifling way, but in a way that made every movement feel more deliberate—every glance heavier, every breath more noticeable. The late afternoon sun filtered through the trellis, casting golden streaks between the climbing roses, and yet, all you could focus on was him.

Sunghoon was close. Closer than he had ever been.

You weren’t sure when it had started happening—when the spaces between you had gradually shrunk, when standing on opposite ends of the garden no longer felt natural. Lately, you found yourselves gravitating toward the same spots, lingering just a little longer when your shoulders brushed, your fingers nearly touching in the space between petals.

And today was no different.

You sat side by side on the bench, shoulders barely apart, the silence between you filled with something thick and unspoken. Sunghoon had been quieter than usual—not distant, but observant, like he was trying to figure something out without asking. His eyes flickered toward you every so often, and each time, you felt it settle in your bones.

You turned to face him fully, breaking the moment first. “What?”

His gaze didn’t waver. “What?”

You huffed. “You keep looking at me.”

A small pause. Then—so subtle, so quiet—you swore you saw his lips twitch.

“And?”

Your breath caught slightly. It wasn’t just his words—it was the way he said them, the way his voice dipped slightly lower, deliberate, like he knew what he was doing.

You swallowed. “It’s distracting.”

Sunghoon tilted his head slightly, and for the first time since you met him, there was something playful in his expression—something teasing.

“Oh?” He leaned in just slightly, barely enough to be noticeable, but enough to make your pulse quicken. “I’m distracting you?”

Your fingers curled against the stone bench. This wasn’t fair.

“You’re annoying,” you muttered, turning away, but you knew he caught the way your ears burned.

Sunghoon hummed, and you could feel his smirk even if you didn’t look at him. “So I talk too little, but when I do talk, I’m annoying?”

You scoffed. “Exactly.”

Another chuckle. This one quieter, but undeniably there. He wasn’t supposed to be like this—this comfortable, this close. But here he was, sitting beside you like the weight of the past weeks had finally settled into something… heavier. More real.

And then—

A gust of wind suddenly rushed through the garden, sending petals swirling into the air, and just as you lifted your hand to shield your face, you felt it.

His fingers.

Light at first, barely a brush against your wrist, but then steady, firm. His hand wrapped around yours instinctively, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, holding you in place as the petals danced around you.

The world around you blurred.

You looked at him, heart pounding, and for the first time, he didn’t look away.

Sunghoon’s fingers curled slightly around yours, his grip warm against your skin. His eyes flickered down—just briefly, just for a second—but enough to make your breath hitch.

And then—

A sharp chime cut through the air.

You both froze.

Sunghoon blinked, as if the moment had just snapped, and immediately, his hand withdrew. The warmth disappeared.

Your phone screen lit up in your lap, vibrating once before the sound rang out again. The caller ID glowed in the fading light.

Sunghoon leaned back slightly, gaze flickering toward the phone for a split second before he exhaled, his expression unreadable once more.

“You should get that,” he murmured, his voice quieter now, more distant.

The shift was immediate.

The tension, the closeness, the almost something—gone, like the petals carried away by the wind.

And you hated that you already missed it.

The garden looked different.

Maybe it was the way the afternoon light stretched longer with the coming of spring, or maybe it was the quiet anticipation humming in your chest. Either way, something about the air felt charged—like the world was waiting for something to happen.

And then, you saw him.

Sunghoon stood in the center of the garden, hands in his pockets, looking entirely out of place yet somehow exactly where he was meant to be. But it wasn’t just his presence that made you stop in your tracks.

It was what surrounded him.

On the stone bench where you always sat together, a small collection of carefully placed gifts rested—a bouquet of white roses, a neatly wrapped box, and something else tucked underneath, barely visible.

Your heart stuttered.

Slowly, you stepped forward. “What is this?”

Sunghoon didn’t meet your gaze immediately. Instead, he exhaled, glancing at the flowers as if debating whether this was a good idea after all. “It’s for you.”

Your chest tightened. “But Valentine’s Day was weeks ago.”

“I know.” His voice was steady, but there was something almost shy beneath it, something careful. “I just… didn’t get the chance before.”

You stared at him, your mind racing. Sunghoon had never been one for grand gestures—he was the type to show his care in quiet ways, in fleeting glances and the space he let you fill. And yet, here he was, standing in a garden that had become yours, holding onto a moment that should have passed.

Gently, you reached for the bouquet, fingers brushing against the soft petals. “Why all of this? For me?”

Sunghoon finally met your eyes then, and something about his gaze made your breath catch.

“I didn’t want you to get nothing on valentine’s day, well I guess i’m a little late.”

The words settled between you, soft but certain.

Carefully, you lifted the lid of the small box, revealing a delicate silver bracelet inside—simple, elegant, something he must have put more thought into than he’d ever admit. Beneath it, tucked into the wrapping, was a folded note.

You looked at him questioningly, but he only shrugged. “Read it later.”

A slow warmth spread through your chest. This wasn’t just a late Valentine’s gift. It was an answer to a question neither of you had spoken aloud.

You smiled, holding the bouquet close. “You know,” you teased, tilting your head, “this is almost romantic.”

Sunghoon scoffed, shoving his hands deeper into his pockets, but the tips of his ears turned pink. “Don’t make it weird.”

You laughed softly, stepping closer—close enough to feel the warmth of him, close enough to reach for his sleeve, letting your fingers brush against the fabric.

“I won’t,” you murmured. “But are you sure you’re not asking me out?”

His gaze lingered on yours, something unspoken passing between you. Then, slowly—so subtly you almost missed it—his lips curved into the smallest, softest smile.

“I can’t stand you.”

— bonus

Later that night, long after the sun had set and the world outside had gone quiet, you sat on the edge of your bed, the small folded note resting in your hands.

You had been staring at it for a while now, running your fingers along the creases, tracing the edges as if the paper itself held some kind of secret.

It wasn’t that you were scared to read it.

It was that you already knew whatever was inside would change things.

With a deep breath, you carefully unfolded the note.

The handwriting was neat but slightly uneven, like he had rewritten the words more times than he wanted to admit.

And then, you read:

I don’t know when it started.

Maybe the first time you showed up here, walking in like you already belonged. Maybe the first time you teased me and didn’t care that I barely responded. Or maybe it was when I realized that I started waiting for you to come back.

Either way, it happened.

And now, I think about what it would’ve been like if I never met you. If I kept coming to this place alone, never knowing what it was like to have someone sit beside me and make the silence feel less heavy.

I think it would’ve been quieter. Simpler.

But I don’t think I would have liked it as much.

I don’t know what this means yet. I just know that I didn’t want to let this feeling pass without saying something. Even if it’s late.

- Sunghoon

Your fingers tightened slightly around the paper, your heart swelling and twisting all at once.

He had felt it too.

The shift, the weight of it all, the way the space between you had become something fragile and electric at the same time.

He had known.

And now, so did you.

A slow smile pulled at your lips as you carefully folded the note and placed it back into the box.

You would see him tomorrow.

And this time, you wouldn’t leave anything unspoken.

Series Taglist — next • prev

@saphiranishimurashan @elairah @baribaaari @m1kkso @letwiiparkjay @jellyluv4eva @manuosorioh @moontyun @mbsnow @taesanoreohair @tiny-shiny @glimmerinaaa @e-r-i-15 @starbyeol1512 @seyoungiesleeps @vrusha01

#Ꮺ 𝐦𝐲 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐬 #enhypen #enhypen fluff #enhypen x reader #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen fic #fanfic #fluff fic #enhypen sunghoon #sunghoon fluff #sunghoon fanfic #park sunghoon x reader #sunghoon x reader #sunghoon x y/n

77 notes · View notes

issdisgrace · 2 days ago

Note

Hi!! For the request thing I hope it isn't too much of a hassle but could you do Bruce Wayne x Just Some Guy Reader

Like Bruce is obviously like the guy ever, Rich, Handsome what have you. But he falls for this Average Joe kind of guy, there's nothing special about him other than being compassionate and kind Ig?? He isn't some rich or famous person, just a guy working a normal job.

And maybe can you put a little bit of Alfred being happy for Bruce?? Idk if it isn't too much of a bother sorry 😭

WOULD LIKE YOU TO MEET

WARNINGS: None, written during writers block

“Alfred, I would like for you to meet my boyfriend.”

“Finally, I thought you would never ask me to meet him.”

“Wait, how did you know I was seeing someone?”

“Well, the fact that your mood has improved, you’re more talkative, not that it’s a bad thing. You’re also spending a little less time as Batman, along with a couple other small things first tipped me off that you were seeing someone. Then my suspicion was confirmed when I found a sweatshirt that wasn’t one of yours that smelt of cigarettes, whiskey, and pine. And unless you had recently taken up smoking and drinking cheap whiskey, the sweatshirt did not belong to you Master Bruce.”

“I did that bad of a job at hiding it?”

“Yes, Master Bruce, yes you did. Anyhow, I want to know about boyfriend of yours.”

“His name is Y/n. He’s tall, nice, handsome and the owner of Bucky’s bar and grill.”

“Interesting. How did you meet him?”

“Met him through Selina. He’s a friend of hers.”

“Why am I not surprised? Anything else I should know about him?”

“No, not really.”

“Ok, when am I supposed to meet him?”

“Saturday at 7pm. We’re going to meet him at the bar and then go have dinner somewhere.”

“Alright, sounds good, Master Bruce.”

A couple of nights later, like Bruce said, he and Alfred were on the way to Bucky’s. Alfred took note of the fact that the bar was located in the East End of Gotham as Bruce drove. It felt odd to be the one sitting in the passenger seat. Alfred was so used to being the one driving, but Bruce insisted on driving since they had taken the ‘63 Chevrolet Corvette Stingray. They were about a couple of minutes outside of Crime Alley when Bruce pulled off to the side of the road in front of a place that had a glowing sign that read Bucky’s bar and grill.

“We’re here.”

“Thank you for pointing that out Master Bruce. I couldn’t tell.”

“Just making sure you’re not getting senile on me.”

“You don’t have to worry about that anytime soon. Now shall we go in?”

“Yeah, he’s probably wondering where we are.”

The two then get out of the car and headed inside. As they entered the bar, the smell of beer and food hit their nose. Alfred scrunched his nose in displeasure at the scent as he looked around. The bar was large and surprisingly nice especially for the place in which it was located. The two made their way to an open spot at the bar. Bruce leaned over the bar and got the bartender’s attention. The bartender made he’s way over and Alfred thought that this must be Bruce’s boyfriend. Until Bruce said.

“Hey Clay, where’s Y/n?”

“He’s in the office. He’s waiting for you and your dad.”

“Alright, thanks Clay.”

Bruce pushed off the bar and lead the pair to the back of the bar where two swinging door where. The doors lead into the kitchen as they made their way through the kitchen. There was choir of hi and hellos followed by Bruce’s name.

“It seems you’re quite popular here.”

“I guess.” Bruce shrugs as he stops in front of a red door labeled office. Alfred gives a nod of acknowledgement as Bruce goes to open the door.

As the door open it reveals a decent sized room with a dark oak desk in the middle of the room where a man sits, two chair sitting in front of the desk facing it, a filing cabinet and snack/drink bar off to one side of the room, and to the other side a black couch with a matching armchair and coffee table. The man at the desk looked up from his paperwork a smile spreading on his face as he saw Bruce. Alfred quietly closed the door behind himself as Bruce stepped further in.

“You’re finally here. I was beginning to think you bailed on me.” You said as you got up.

“Sorry about that. But l brought Alfred like I said I was going to,” Bruce says, gesturing to the man beside.

“Yes, sorry didn’t mean to be rude. I’m Y/n, Y/n L/n. It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’ve heard a lot about you.” You say as you walk closer to give Alfred a handshake. Alfred gives it a shake before saying,

“Alfred Pennyworth, it’s nice to finally meet the man that has captured Master Bruce’s heart. Also, I must say this is a lovely place you have.”

“Thank you. I put a lot into this bar. It has been my whole life, grew up here and I’m still here so.”

“You grew up here?” Alfred asked.

“Yep this was grandpa’s place. He was the one who raised me, so I’ve spent basically every day here since I was a baby.”

“This must have been an interesting place to grow up.”

“It was, it definitely was.”

You guy stood around chatting for a little, so you and Alfred could get to know each other a bit more before heading out for dinner. As you three chatted away, Bruce felt his heat warm. He was happy to see that you guys were getting along. You two were the most important people in his life, so it would have sucked if you two didn’t get along. Anyway, after 30/45 minutes of chatting with you.

asked,

“So, where are we going to go for dinner?”

“Romero’s.” Bruce responds.

“Alright, sounds good. I got to wrap up here quickly, so why don’t you guys head out and I’ll meet you out there in a couple of minutes, then we can head over to Romero’s together.”

“Ok, don’t take too long.”

“I would never Brucie.” You say, giving him a quick kiss.

With that, Alfred and Bruce head outside to wait for you to finish up. As they step into the outdoors, Bruce asks,

“What do you think of him?”

“He seems nice, genuine, kind. Doesn’t seem like he’s after your money or your status either, which is good. But if I’m being honest with you Master Bruce, I don’t think my opinion matters all that much. I think what matters is yours and what you think of him. So what do you think of him, Master Bruce?”

“I think he’s the best thing to happen to me, Alfred.”

“See that matters, Master Bruce.”

#bruce wayne #dc #bruce wayne x male reader #bruce wayne x reader #dc x male reader #dc x reader

63 notes · View notes

rocknrollsalad · 1 day ago

Text

rating: gen cw: deadbeat dads, school, workplace injuries, mentions of blood, mentions of loss of body parts tags: al munson is a shitty dad, wayne munson is the best dad, pre-teen eddie, they're doing their best, eddie's a brat but it's developmentally appropriate word count: 1620

“What are your days off?”

The question came as soon as Wayne said “Hello”. Nothing in response, no clues as to who it was, just the question coming like Wayne had interrupted someone else’s conversation. Of course, he knew exactly who it was. Not only from the voice but the approach.

Eddie had never been one for waiting or formalities and he was practically a teenager now so the impatience only seemed to worsen. If Wayne had enough hair to go gray, he was sure it would be white and all because of Eddie.

“The weekend. If you need me to come and get you, I got plenty of time and Marty’s on tonight so if I’m a little late he’ll be fine.”

“I don’t need you to come and get me.” The “I’m not a baby was barely implied. Wayne could hear Eddie physically stop himself from adding it.

“Al there?”

“No.” Again, Eddie reacted in a way that didn’t fit the question.

Wayne was starting to put some pieces together. Not the purpose of the call. Eddie was annoyed with the questions but wasn’t offering any clarification either. Wayne would lay good money down that his brother had been gone for a while. Well past the day he said he’d return.

It had Wayne doing the math, to see if he really could make it out there and back before he had to clock in and how much time would have to stop at the store. The phone cord didn’t allow for much pacing, but there was a well-worn groove in the kitchen floor from many other calls like this that Wayne slipped right into.

“Water and electricity still on?”

“God, yes. Will you stop acting like I’m five? You know I know how to get power from the neighbors anyway.”

“Don’t do that, though. Call me first, then we can resort to theft.”

“Ugh, dad’s right, you’re always ruining the fun.”

Oh, so Al hadn’t been gone long. Wayne was wrong. Which meant a much better chance that there was still food in the house. Meaning a trip out there could wait a few days. Letting out a slow breath, Wayne looked out the small window over the kitchen sink.

He was ready to scramble all available troops to respond to an “emergency” here and it was all for nothing. It’d take a few moments to bring his heart rate back down and stop processing every variable.

Worry stayed though. Eddie needed something and had nowhere else to turn but a man a solid forty-five minute drive out. It didn’t matter how many times Wayne offered the room up, Eddie insisted on staying out there. Not that Wayne thought it’d offer much relief for himself but at least less frantic drives.

“Yeah, yeah. How dare I try and keep you from jail. What an asshole,” Wayne scoffed, meeting Eddie’s attitude with some of his own.

“Alright, whatever. I gotta go.”

“Ed,” Wayne scrubbed a hand over his face and said a quick prayer. He needed all the help he could get to remember this was his nephew and not the brother he’d spent half a life fighting with. Eddie didn’t know better, he was doing what he saw but it pushed all the same buttons. “Why did you need to know my days off?”

“Nothing. It doesn’t matter, they’re the wrong days.”

“Typically they’re the good ones, boy. Why don’t I come pull you from school early on Friday and you can spend the weekend out here?”

“I don’t want to. Dad’s gonna be back on Sunday and we’re getting pizza.”

That stab to the heart was enough to hunch Wayne’s shoulders. Both he and Eddie knew that Al wouldn’t be back this Sunday, possibly not next Sunday. As hard as it was, Wayne made a few sounds to say he understood. This would be the time or something.

“Alright well, why you calling for my work schedule then?”

“Nothing, it’s stupid and you can’t do it so it doesn’t matter. It’s dumb.”

“I’m not going to ask again, Ed.” There was a warning in Wayne’s tone that he didn’t like to use but felt necessary.

For a few seconds, at least. The silence on the other end had Wayne regretting his choice. He was too harsh. He tried to be easy on the kid, none of this was his fault, but he needed to know where the lines were or else he really would end up like his dad.

Since Wayne took a bit of the blame for Al, he was trying to improve this go around but it was easy. He didn’t know anything about raising kids and really hadn’t learned much between Al and Eddie here. He wasn’t supposed to be the parental type.

Sounding a bit more like the child he was and less like a delinquent fighting with a cop, Eddie finally spoke again. “There’s a career day on Thursday, it’s totally stupid but everyone’s dads are coming.”

Sucking in a breath, Wayne felt that stab again and went to sit down. He had to proceed with caution here, obviously, Eddie was already struggling with this. Wayne didn’t want to make it worse.

Eddie didn’t share the same sentiment and filled the silence. Something that was usually facts about medieval Europe or he was big into aliens right now.

“All the other kids keep saying that no one is coming for me and that my dad doesn’t even love me enough to stick around, he’s not coming to the school. And, like, my dad loves me. They just don’t get it that he’s gotta do stuff. We can’t eat air.”

“Okay, kid, but–”

“They’re all just jealous because I don’t have anyone telling me to do things.”

“Now that makes sense,” Wayne said, thankful Eddie couldn’t see the wince on his face or the way he had to swallow the lie with a lump in his throat.

“I got detention all week for trying to punch Ricky Demchuck because he wouldn’t stop.”

“What have I told you?”

“I just got so mad,” Eddie ran the words together, reliving the moment.

Again, Wayne left a bit of silence. He couldn’t bring himself to yell at the kid. Wayne would have done the same in his shoes. Except Wayne knew he’d have done more than try…and got more than detention.

“My job is pretty boring, not sure it’ll help.”

“You could tell them about that guy who lost his hand.”

And like that, Wayne heard his nephew. Not a bitter and sad kid trying to be an adult but the Eddie that came out when things were comfortable for a bit. It also reminded Wayne that eleven year olds would love the horror stories from the plant. If he toned down the language and tried to work in a lesson about safety, he’d be a hit. The stories had worked with Eddie for years now.

“What time do I gotta be there?”

“Noon, I think. After lunch! We’ll be in the gym, not our classroom.”

Wayne didn’t know where the classroom was. The gym was a maybe but there’d be other adults.

“Sarah and Michelle are bringing their granddad and Donovan’s bringing his brother who’s a soldier,” Eddie stopped himself there but there was more. Likely the whole roster of guests.

“So an uncle won’t even be that lame,” Wayne said, trying to laugh.

“An uncle would be so cool!” Eddie missed the joke and that was probably for the best. “Will you really tell them about that guy’s hand? Even the bloody parts?”

It was so easy to picture Eddie, sitting on the couch with an excitement that neither Wayne or Al had ever shown for anything, it had to have come from Eddie’s mom. Those big eyes and rabid smile, waiting to hear more, was something Wayne hoped for every visit. Hell, it was why Eddie knew the story to begin with.

“I might have to tone down some of the blood, not all kids can handle that. Y’know, not all adults can either now that I think about it. Wouldn’t want to stress out your teacher.”

Eddie laughed and Wayne knew things were going to be okay. What was losing a bit of sleep to make the kid happy?

“That’s even better! I bet you could make Mrs. Woolbright scream!”

“I’m not going to torture your teachers.”

“They torture me,” Eddie snapped back so quickly it was like he’d set everything up just to say that.

“Yeah, yeah. Must be tough having to do all that schoolwork,” Wayne laughed. “Look, I’ll be at your school at noon so mind your p’s and q’s until then, yeah? I’m not driving all that way to learn you been suspended. And maybe I can get me one of them school lunches.”

Eddie groaned and told Wayne the teen years were way closer than he wanted them to be. “Fine-ah.”

“And don’t just eat cereal for dinner tonight.”

“Jesus Christ, Uncle Wayne. All the time you’re telling me not to eat cereal. I know, I know. I gotta go, okay? I got some stuff to do.”

“Well sorry for keeping ya, boy. See you on Thursday.”

Much like the call started, it ended without a word. Wayne repeated that he’d be there for Eddie and got a dial tone in return. As weird as it was, it spared a lot of awkward silences that Wanye was thankful for.

He went and put the career day on his calendar and carried on with his day. If he was going to do one thing for that kid, it would be showing up. Never mind lame stories or a boring job, he’d be there. Always.

#this is for finish your fucking wips february baybeeeeeee #found it in my unfinished folder and fucking finished it #i know it's a ship-less fic but it's cute #hope you like it #eddie munson #wayne munson #definitely slapdash editing job too so sorry

46 notes · View notes

banabiohazard · 2 days ago

Text

More Class of ‘09 decade plus!

I had more fun with this one

Tw: self harm, drug use, sexual topics & panic attack while high.

As Nicole drove home from work she tuned out the music on the radio, she rarely every actually listened to it, she just threw it on for convenient background noise to avoid her thoughts. Jecka had been staying with her for two months now, it was nice having someone around, someone to sneakily take her hand while they watched tv, someone to listen to while they talked about nothing in particular, someone to… don’t think about that while driving. She pivoted for anything else, having her around this long really made her think about high school seriously again for the first time in years. What would her teen self think of her now? Working at a bank, paying taxes, fucking Jecka. She’d probably call her a slur, maybe a few.

She bit the interior of her lip, she wanted a cigarette, fuck. She glanced a few times at her purse as she dug for her nicorette gum, finding it after only getting a bit frustrated. Quitting smoking, that was another thing the old her would hate about her wasn’t it? She twitched her head a little and smirked to herself, who cares? She’s as good as dead anyways, nothing but a bittersweet nostalgic story to tell while drunk.

When she arrived home she didn’t even bother with her keys, she knew Jecka left the door unlocked. “Oh my god you’re back, fucking finally.” Jecka groaned from the couch, despite acting so much like a slob, something Nicole appreciated was how surprisingly clean she kept the apartment, certainly better than she ever bothered to. “Why do you have to go out and like, work? That sucks, get on disability checks it’s great.” Jecka added as she got up and strode to the kitchen, barely clothed, great, wonderful thing to see immediately after getting home. Why was she thinking sarcastically? It was actually a nice view, stop looking a gift horse in the mouth, soak it in. “I’m not disabled and neither are you.” Nicole replied, shedding her button up for the tank top underneath, which earned her a whistle from her girlfriend, “Yeah strip! And yeah I am, dumbass, chronic migraines, can’t work, they make me faint sometimes!” She slipped into her ‘damsel’ voice she typically used when she either wanted her way, or was just mocking someone.

“And whose fault is that?” Nicole asked, “Using drugs like a teenager way into your adult life.” She added, Jecka scoffed, “Like you didn’t!” She said with a mouthful of chips, “And I quit.” Nicole shot back, going to sit on the couch, “I quit the hard stuff!” Jecka called from the kitchen. “Nevertheless, I work to support myself, and you now because you blow your check on random shit.” Jecka strolled over and dropped down, wrapping her arms around Nicole’s shoulders for support, slipping into the voice again, “But I miss you all day babesss!” She whined, “If you keep calling me that I’m kicking you out.” Nicole replied as she untangled Jecka’s arms and pulled her up into the couch with her. “No you won’t, you love me and junk.” Jecka stuck her tongue out as she got comfortable.

Nicole let her eyes shut, almost drifting to sleep when Jecka stirred, “Speaking of drugs, look what I scored!” She leaned over to the coffee table and pulled back with a mason jar full of weed, she smiled. Nicole sighed, “How much did you pay for that?” She asked, “Shhhhhh shut up, get fucked up with me.” Jecka pressed her finger to Nicole’s lips, “I told you I quit all that.” She moved Jecka’s hand to respond. “Cush isn’t addictive babes, c’monnnnn!” Jecka set down the jar and gently squeezed her girlfriend’s shoulders, “I will not give into peer pressure.” Nicole sighed, Jecka hummed, “What about titties, will you give in to titties?” She asked, pressing her chest against Nicole’s. She looked down, and then back into Jecka’s amber puppy dog eyes, and back down again. She bit her lip, “One hit.” She gave in, “Haha! you’re whipped!” Jecka teased before she grabbed the Dr Pepper can off the coffee table and began crushing it into shape, Nicole got up and changed into comfortable pants, as she sat back down, Jecka was poking all the needed holes into the can with a thumbtack, ending by twisting around to make a larger hole for the vent. Nicole cracked her neck as Jecka loaded the newly loaded can pipe, after digging for her lighter, she took the green hit and passed it to Nicole. She took a deep breath and brought it to her mouth, covering the vent with her middle finger and inhaled lightly. Immediately entering a coughing fit, much to her girlfriend’s amusement.

Eight hits and fifteen minutes later, Jecka’s mouth was on hers, running her hands down her shoulders and onto her back, her back.. her tattoo… “Stop! Off!” She pushed Jecka off of her lap and back onto the other side of the couch. “What the fuck did I do!?” Jecka shouted, Nicole shrunk into herself, paranoia and panic setting in. She clawed at her arms, silently screaming. “Hey!? Babes!? Nicole!” Jecka tried her hardest to pull Nicole’s hands away from her arms before she broke her skin. “Nicole calm down! please calm down.” Jecka was clearly beginning to panic as well. After a few minutes of questioning and finally pinning her hands so she couldn’t hurt herself further, Nicole calmed down “I’m sorry.” She repeated under her breath, “I ruined it.” She muttered.

“You didn’t. What happened?” Jecka asked, “My- you touched the tattoo, I don’t, I don’t know what happed it just, brought back, everything.” Nicole stammered, “Tattoo? The butterflies??” Jecka asked, “Oh, oh wait, Jesus saves.” She realized. Nicole nodded as she rubbed away the small blood pooling at her elbow. “Yeah, no, I kinda get it. Trauma and stuff. I have my moments too.” Jecka tried to comfort her. Nicole crawled over to her on the couch and laid her head in her lap, Jecka placed a hand on her head and brushed her hair behind her ear. “It will be okay, probably.”

#class of 09 decade plus #class of 09 #class of 09 reup #class of 09 fanfic #fanfic #fan fiction #jecka class of 09 #nicole class of 09 #jeckole #nicole x jecka

31 notes · View notes

nekohime19 · 2 days ago

Text

Heart behind the lie # 74 : Shadow courting

Wukong learns all there is to know about shadow courting.

Bao was an interesting character, for lack of better words. He was the kind to fatten you up with flowery niceties and lure you in suspicious sales. And while Wukong quite liked being praised, he was too old to be tricked like that. When the Golden-Clawed Crow saw that his tricks weren't working, he stopped being so overly nice and instead began to talk about the city’s current trends. Apparently dark jewels were very popular. Wukong hummed and picked up his cup of tea, swirls of smoke curled above his drink. He took a large gulp. The tea was soft. It didn't have the wooden aftertaste he usually liked, but it was quite nice either way.

The sun began to decline in the sky, falling off its throne. Bao spent some hours entertaining him before being interrupted by an insistent knock. Someone barged in the room without any decorum. Cheng dusted himself off and looked up. He was as pompous as Wukong remembered him, dressed in fine silk and golden jewelry. There was a crown on top of his head, it suited him somehow.

“I was told we have a guest.” Hummed Cheng. Bao sprang on his feet and respectfully inclined himself, not that Cheng could see it.

“Indeed. The Great Sage Equal to Heaven graced us with his presence.” Informed Bao with an infuriating smirk. Wukong made himself known with a clear of throat, Cheng's head turned his way. The peacock smiled smugly, how annoying.

“Really? Out of his own volition?” Snorted Cheng. Wukong rolled his eyes. As expected, this bird-brain didn't change a bit.

“Who could even force me to come here? I'm the strongest being in existence.”Huffed Wukong, he crossed his arms and settled deeper on the couch. Cheng laughed, he felt around the room with his cane and settled on the couch facing Wukong's.

“Now that the King has arrived, I'll leave the two of you alone.” Hummed Bao, he turned around and hopped to the door,

“Yeah, don't scam people on the way.” Huffed Cheng as he dismissed his subordinate. Bao chuckled evilly, clearly he wasn't going to heed his King's advice. Wukong almost felt bad for the unlucky soul that would cross paths with the plump crow. “Managing subordinates is so hard.” Sighed Cheng once he heard the door close, signaling Bao left the room.

“Being King isn't that easy, huh.” Snorted Wukong.

“I didn't think I would have to manage so much.” Groaned Cheng as he pinched the bridge of his nose. Wukong almost pitied him, he knew how it was to have this type of responsibility on his shoulders. “Anyway, why are you here? I doubt you came to admire my beautiful face… unless?”

Wukong snorted. “What beautiful face are you talking about? I see nothing of the sort .” The russet-furred monkey delighted in his ex sworn-brother (could he be called like that?) twitching eyebrow.

“So, brother.” They both knew they weren't like that anymore yet the bird-brain seemed to enjoy annoying him with the title anyway. Stupid birds. “What do you want?”

“I need information on…” Wukong cleared his throat and tried to chase the blush spreading on his cheeks. “Shadow courting.” He finally mumbles.

“... Are you still not with the Six-eared Macaque?” Asked Cheng, his smile particularly teasing.

“We're taking our time.” Grumbled the stone monkey as he averted his eyes.

“The understatement of the century. At this point I might die before you two weds.”

“We're not talking about weddings yet!” Chirped Wukong with flushed cheeks.

“Yet?” Repeated Cheng with a smirk. “So you are thinking about it.”

“Anyway!” Embarrassingly cut Wukong. “Tell me about shadow courting.”

Cheng brithegened at the topic. He straightened himself and cleared his throat. “You came to the right person! There are so many traditions regarding shadow courting! So many variations too.” Little tweets of excitement escaped his beak every word or two. Wukong sweatdropped, he was going to be subjected to a long ramble, he could feel it. “So… shadow courting shares some common points with demonic courting, but there are also a lot of differences. You don't need to duel your mate to enter the courtship. In fact, it is more common to perform a traditional moonlight dance.”

Wukong perked up at this tidbit of information. “A moonlight dance ?” He inquired curiously.

“As the name might tell, it is a dance performed under the moon. The dance is all about fluidity, tied to the movement of tides and shadows. It is a show of elegance but also a way to display the suitor's familiarity with shadows. Of course, different clans have different variations of this dance.” Explained Cheng. Wukong grimaced, he never truly danced before. It's not as if he wasn't elegant. Contrary to popular belief, despite being made of stone, Wukong was quite supple. But he was willing to learn! Everything for his moon.

“If the mate accepts the moonlight dance then it means the suitor is officially recognized! After that, very much like demonic courting, the suitor can present offerings to show his status, his sincerity and his feelings. Every gift is accepted, from jewelry to fruits. But generally the offering period ends with one particular gift : a Void Onyx.”

“What is that?” Hummed Wukong, he took one piece of his hair and turned it into a notebook. He diligently wrote every information received.

“It is an onyx that grows in only the darkest places, usually on the side of a dark chasm. It is fed by shadows and boosts shadow magic considerably. It is a precious gift for shadow users.” Hummed Cheng. “The last step usually ends in a traditional courtnapping. It is a good sign for shadow users if the room you bring your mate to has a lot of light and candles. Shadows fear and love the light, having a soft light like candles is perfect for them, and thus for shadow users.”

Wukong nodded, all those steps made for a good courtship. He could add the flower weaving tradition after the offerings period! Courtnapping also sounded like fun. Macaque was a slippery monkey but Wukong was certain he could catch him if he truly tried.

After that, Cheng went on and on about the different variations of shadow courting. He talked about all sorts of traditions, some he found interesting but couldn't do because he wasn’t a shadow user. Cheng also mentioned an interesting ritual taking place after the courting. There was an ancient spell passed by in numerous shadow clans, it was called Binding. It was apparently an ultimate proof of love for shadow users, it bound them to their mate's shadow for eternity. Wukong didn't know if Macaque would want to do that, to be honest he still didn't fully understand what it meant for Macaque to be bound to his shadow.

“So did I enlight you?” Proudly huffed Cheng as he crossed his arms over his chest.

“I guess so. Thanks.” Reluctantly said Wukong. “Now I have to find a Void Onyx and how to do a moonlight dance.” Sighed Wukong. Cheng perked up.

“I can help with that!” Cheng hopped on his feet and waved Wukong over. The great sage stood up and approached him cautiously. “Oh we have so much to do. How fun!”

Wukong narrowed eyes. “You're using this to escape your responsibility as king aren't you?”

“I do deserve a bit of vacation.” Smugly smirked Cheng. “Besides, you need me.”

“I can manage alone.” Huffed Wukong, his pride a bit wounded.

“Really? Then tell me in which outfits you want to do your moonlight dance in?” Asked Cheng with suspicion, Wukong awkwardly averted his eyes. Cheng couldn't see him but somehow he could feel his awkwardness. This annoying keen bird. “Dear brother, you will not do your moonlight dance in your ugly armor!”

“It's not ugly.” Argued Wukong but he didn't put up much of a fight. He knew that Cheng was the more knowledgeable when it came to those traditions.

“Well it's not appropriate for a dance.” Huffed Cheng, he dragged Wukong to another room and called for Bolin. Of course the prideful peacock moved his personal tailor in the palace. Why wouldn't he? At this point, Wukong was more amused than anything.

Bolin was quite surprised to see his King but he swiftly schooled himself. He inclined himself respectfully to both Wukong and the bird-brain. His flock of daughters were behind him, they waved at Wukong, no doubt recognizing him, and Wukong waved back.

“What can I do for you, your majesty?” Asked Bolin as he straightened himself. He was dressed luxuriously too, face as serene as the surface of a calm lake.

“We need a special outfit for my brother” Cheng's eyes were twinkling. “A traditional outfit for a moonlight dance. And also jewelry!”

Wukong was ushered aside by the younglings, they took his measurements while Cheng described what a moonlight dance outfit looked like. Apparently, the traditional outfit consisted of a long skirt and a rather flowy top. They both asked Wukong some questions, about what he wanted and what he was comfortable with. The great sage didn't have any preferences, but he had some requests, notably room for his tail. As for the colors, they all agreed Wukong looked better in warmer tones, especially golden.

Once the request was done, both Cheng and Wukong left the tailor and his daughters alone. The great sage was beginning to be quite tired.

“I can prepare a room for you.” Hummed Cheng. “There are some books on moonlight dancing in my library if you wish to peek before going to bed. You'll find them rather easily in the section dedicated to shadow users.” The peacock waved for a servant to prepare a bed for Wukong. He left after that, probably going back to his kingly work before ending his day.

Wukong was quite tired, but unfortunately the books mentioned by the bird-brain made him too curious, he couldn't ignore them. He begrudgingly walked to the library. Of course, Cheng's personal library was also moved to the palace. It wasn't a surprise really. The library was huge. Thousands of books lined up perfectly in a sof-lighted place. It smelled of wood and ink. The great sage wandered until he found the section dedicated to shadow users. He eyed the numerous books until he found one on moonlight dancing. There were some sketches inside the book depicting the various movements.

“This looks… difficult.” Mumbled Wukong as he traced the different figures. He placed the opened book on the shelf and took some step back. He raised his hand and tried to imitate the poses.

He wasn't used to this. Moonlight dancing was all about fluidity. The moves were graceful, delicate, light yet not fluttery. Wukong wasn't rigid, in fact if he wanted he could do the split, but he wasn't used to dancing in general. He never partaken in it. There wasn't any dancing in his troop, even less in the brotherhood. He didn't do anything of the sort while he was on his pilgrimage too. Everytime, it was all about fighting. He was the fighter, the soldier, the guard. He knew how to thrust forward with his staff, how to side-step attacks, how to roll around to avoid slashes. He didn't know how to move like this. How to turn delicately, how to sway his hips, how to undule his arms.It was new. It was rather difficult. But he wasn't one to give up.

He thought about his moon's face, all starry-eyed, looking up at him with a flush on his cheeks. Oh he wanted to see that. He will see that. Wukong accidently stepped on his tail and fell on his butt, he chirped, surprised, and rubbed his head with a wince.

“Well… I have a lot of training to do.” He sighed.

Even though it was hard, it also somehow felt freeing. As much as he liked fighting, he went through so many battles, so much bloodshed, it began to feel like a chore at times. But now… he didn't need to be the brother going to war against Heaven or the pilgrim protecting his master… Right now he was the monkey who wanted to court his beloved. It sounded… peaceful.

Peace was nice.

It was new. Tentative almost. But nice… He decided he quite liked it. Living in peace. He didn't need to fight anymore, no, right now he just needed to dance.

Ch1 / Previous / Next

#shadowpeach #lmk #lego monkie kid #sun wukong #lmk shadowpeach #shadowpeach fanfic #heart behind the lie

21 notes · View notes

maxdibert · 3 days ago

Note

I wished lily wasn't the reason for Severus' loyalty. The revelation of his love for her (platonically or romantically) was truly important. You have the incident that kickstarted the prophecy. Severus' switch to the order. Voldemort giving Lily a chance to choose. Severus playing an important role in the second wizarding war. All because of a friendship of two people from spinner's end.

JKR should have developed it more. I understand that she went for the twist, but when the thrill of the discovery is gone there are so many questions that are unanswered.

first, I do not like Lily as a friend. She forgives the marauders for the years of bullying, see her 'best friend' being hanged upside down and threatened to have his genitals exposed. Who the fuck does that ? Also when Harry asked if his mother knew that James still bullying Severus in the seventh year, remus answered with "she did not know too much." so she knew something...

I do not like Lily as a sister, why did she not let James know that vernon probably doesn't know anything about the wizarding world before they went on dinner. I mean wth is Petunia supposed to say to Vernon ? "Oh yeah my sister is a witch and she went to this magical school". Not the best way to make a men fall in love with you. Is Petunia even allowed to tell Vernon all of this under the secrecy law? (I'm aware that restaurant scene is not canon, but that's what I thought when I read it on the website).

I don't like the way she uses her other friends opinion of Severus and their friendship, who clearly don't like Severus, as an argument to why Severus should stop hanging out with his Slytherin friends. Why are your friends even discussing Severus?

Also, I don't like the way she idolize Albus Dumbledore. Severus' got bullied for years, and Dumbledore did nothing. Severus was nearly killed by a werewolf and Dumbledore made Severus swear to never talk about it. What did he do, he made James head boy. Yeah if that happened to me and this man was the leader of the order, I might have asked for the death eater sign up too. Ridiculous.

By making his love for her so pure and selfless, it makes me wonder why he loves her so much. We know nothing, and the things we know just make me go "bruh really.... her ? .... she would not spare a thought for you if your funeral was announced in the papers".

Listen I was never part of the cool kids, so perhaps I don't understand her. But then again, for a Gryffindor, she really is a social coward.

It makes everything so bloody tragic. I sometimes wonder if I'd wished Severus stayed a death eater in the story but then one with guilt because he started caring about the professors and children through the years of working there.

It was honestly funny to read all of this because it feels like listening to myself when I was 16 or 17. I mean, even before I was a fan of Severus—because that came with time—I had a pretty neutral opinion of the character. I didn’t dislike him because I understood his motivations, but I wasn’t particularly a fan either. And if I wasn’t a fan, it was precisely because of everything you’re talking about.

A lot of people say Severus was an obsessive incel who spent 24/7 thinking about Lily, but I never saw it that way—I just thought he was an idiot. I thought, Wow, what an absolute moron. Like, did he really sacrifice his entire life for a woman who was actually kind of a piece of shit? Did he really give up everything to protect the son of his bully and the woman who married said bully? Could you be a bigger loser? No, seriously, could you be more pathetic? Because that woman not only let him be bullied for years, she almost smiled at his bully while he was publicly stripping him. She practically blamed him for her lack of popularity because she was seen with him, and somehow, he was supposed to be grateful. She gaslit him when he tried to tell her about what his abusers were doing to him. She literally told him he should be grateful to one of his abusers. Like, this woman was a piece of shit who was just looking to climb the social ladder. She loved being Gryffindor’s golden girl, just like she was the golden girl back home, and she hated that she had a weird, ugly, nerdy friend with questionable associations who tainted her image. On top of that, she loved having Gryffindor’s rich, pureblood king fawning over her because it was yet another symbol of status—but, of course, she had to play hard to get because good girls always resist bad boys.

That’s how I saw Lily Evans (and honestly, how I still see her), and it seemed absurd to me that Severus would have given so much for her when, honestly, I would have told her to fuck off. Like, if I were Severus, I would’ve dropped her the first time she gaslit me about my abusers. But if for some reason I had still stuck around after that, the moment I saw her almost smiling at my main abuser while he was stripping me in public, I would’ve beaten her so hard she’d have lost all her teeth.

That was my mindset when I was younger, before I learned a lot of things. Back then, I didn’t know what toxic friendships were or how easy it was to fall into them. I had no idea what codependency was, nor did I understand what an attachment figure was. At the time, I grasped some of these concepts vaguely, but over the years, I not only understood them more deeply but also experienced them—both personally and through people around me.

As I got older, I realized that the fact that Severus came from a home where he felt terribly unsafe, and that Lily represented his first safe place as a child, played a huge role in his cognitive development and psyche. In some way, he was always going to be grateful to her for probably being the only good thing in his childhood. And those childhood attachments are some of the strongest and hardest to break because they’re so deeply ingrained in a person. On top of that, Lily was his friend for years, during key developmental stages, and he probably didn’t see all of her flaws—he had her idealized. He grew up in a house where violence was the norm, and his classmates at Hogwarts also treated violence as normal. Lily was different, so he simply wasn’t capable of recognizing problematic behaviors that anyone with a healthy upbringing and healthy role models would have seen immediately. Because he didn’t have those things.

We’re not talking about a character who had examples of healthy behavior, affection, or attachments—we’re talking about someone who had the opposite. So, of course, he wasn’t capable of seeing anything bad in Lily. To him, she was the good in his environment. She was his moral compass, a kind of lighthouse to guide him when he wanted to know if he was heading in the right direction. It’s even possible that he never blamed her for marrying James, and instead, just thought it was normal that she gave in—because she was so good that she could see the good in even horrible people like James. Or maybe he believed James had somehow deceived her.

Severus’s attachment to Lily is kind of like a child who idolizes their mother and is completely unable to see her flaws—even when she acts like a complete asshole—because she’s their mother. And if she does something bad, well, it’s probably the fault of the people around her, not her. That’s exactly how Severus saw Lily.

When I understood all of this, I felt like I finally understood the character and his motivations better. I think it’s important to look at it not from our perspective as outsiders forming opinions, but from his perspective as someone inside the situation—someone who was emotionally dependent on her and either didn’t see the truth or didn’t want to see it.

Over the years, I’ve toned down my discourse about Lily, but my opinion of her hasn’t changed all that much from when I was a teenager. The only difference is that now I rationalize it better. But I still think she was a self-centered social climber. The only thing that’s changed is that before, I just thought she was a shallow, frivolous person—now I give her a little more credit and think her behavior was based on an inferiority complex stemming from her working-class background and her Muggle heritage.

But that doesn’t change the core of the issue. And honestly? I think she and James Potter were a perfect match—two absolute assholes who deserved each other. In fact, I’ve never been bothered by Jily because I’ve always thought they belonged together. Equally insufferable.

#severus snape #pro severus snape #severus snape defense #pro snape #james potter #lily evans #lily evans potter #lily potter #jily #young severus snape #snapedom #severus snape analysis #severus snape meta

35 notes · View notes

707heart · 12 hours ago

Note

Sebastian or Harvey with someone who's really shy? If that's alright!

hey! this is my first time writing in second-person so it might sound a little cray lol. i hope you enjoyed this! also i wrote abt sebastian because i have never romanced harvey </3

sebastian x shy farmer

wc: 761

You clutched the edges of your formal outfit. You had never liked parties. The noise, the chaos. You suppose this is why you spend so much time at the farm, doing the work that needs to be done. It made a good distraction from actually speaking to the people in the town.

Your best friend, Maru, dragged you through the crowds of people in introduction. It was nothing short of overwhelming, your breathing picking up.

“I need a break,” you said. Maru must have saw the look of horror on your face, because she let you go, making up some excuse to the group before excitedly asking Marnie about her chickens.

Walking to the edge of the clearing in the forest, you spot a figure resting against one of the trees, cigarette in mouth. Once his dark eyes met yours, he was waiting for you to get closer. He had a smile pasted on his face, cig hanging between his lips.

“Wasn’t expecting you to show up. You look really nice,” Sebastian said, offering you his cigarette like he always did. You waved it off like you always did.

You were in no state to talk, too ravaged by all of the socialization you had just been put through. Still, his company was soothing in a way.

“Are you alright?” Sebastian asked, nudging your shoulder gently.

“Oh! Yeah, just a little overwhelmed,” you mumbled.

Sebastian hummed, taking one final drag before stomping out the cigarette with his polished black boots. It was rare to see him in this sot of getup. You were used to the black hoodie and ripped denim jeans.

“I get it. Me too. I always loiter here at parties,” Sebastian replied, turning to you and smiling gently. It was a smile that had only been reserved for you lately, and you were enjoying the attention.

Still, Sebastian flirting with you sometimes made you feel like a hermit crab without a shell. You flushed, turning away. He looked back toward the crowd.

“You know, you could always be my dance partner. I mean, since we have to do the stupid dance anyway,” Sebastian shrugged, raising an eyebrow at you.

Internally, you screamed. Sebastian asking you to be his partner?

Your skin felt hot, your outfit suddenly feeling a lot tighter. He turned to you. “What do you say?” he asked, raking his eyes over you in a way that made you light up.

—

After the dance, the crowd began to trickle out. Going in front of everyone was kind of a nightmare, but you got through it by maintaining eye contact with Sebastian. Falling into those eyes was easy.

Sebastian stood next to you, the sun setting off of the forest cliff. Slowly, his pinky interlocked with yours. Then the index, then middle, and soon your hands were funny intertwined. He squeezed tight.

“I’ve really liked spending time with you, you know,” Sebastian murmured, lips dangerously close to your ear. “You make good company.”

“I think you’re the first person to say that about me,” you replied with a nervous smile. You drummed up the courage to face him, squeezing his hand.

Sebastian laughed, shaking his head. “I think people just don’t know you very well. But I do,” he said, reaching to tuck a piece of hair behind your ear. “And I like what I know.”

You blinked up at him, letting out a deep breath that you didn’t know you were holding. Sebastian took your free hand, setting it on his chest. “Do you want me to kiss you?” he asked, a shyness of his own manifesting in his voice. You were close now, closer than the two of you had ever been.

You nodded, nipping at your bottom lip in anticipation. Your heart was rattling in your chest, rapidly pumping blood through your body in a way that made your head spin. The hand that was touching your hair moved to your jawline.

Slowly, he leaned down to press your lips together. You felt the cool metal of his lip piercing meet your skin. He reached up to hold your hand that was lying on his chest, pressing it further into the material of his shirt.

He laughed against your lips, kissing your cheek. “I’ve wanted to do that for so long,” he mumbled against the skin there. “Even when I thought you hated me at first, I wanted to.”

It made you laugh and gently whack his chest. “I told you I get nervous!” you said, leaning up to chase him for another kiss.

#stardew valley fanfic #stardew valley #sdv #stardew valley fanfiction #stardew sebastian #sdv sebastian #sebastian x farmer #shy!reader #flower dance #fanfiction #fanfic

19 notes · View notes

dnickels · 2 months ago

Text

Its been six years and we all know this but the writing on Terror is so tight I can never get over it. Take one line: "It is no accident the world was reborn clean out of an ark" and think of all the the things it tells us about Irving, how he understands the world and how he understands himself. Not just "this guy is religious" but that he understands their situation to be analogous to one of the more dire acts of God, the total destruction of all life on earth as punishment for humanity's transgressions. But clearly, since he's on the ark, he must be one of he elect. An ominous fin parts the water and the many-toothed maw of Calvin breaches the surface, then disappears back to the depths. But of course one can never be sure of one's own righteousness, guarding always against vanity, so total withdrawal from the wicked world and constant internal surveillance of one's own nature is a must.

Because of course if someone volunteers that they think it good to be separated from the temptations of the world, even under such dire circumstances, we start wonder what those temptations are-- what's keeping you from getting a seat on the ark?

It also distinguishes him from the expedition's other vocal evangelical, Sir John. Think of the difference between angels soaring overhead, the invisible world of light etc, and the scouring violence of the flood to make the world clean. The difference between "God loves you :)" and "God will take a brillo pad to your sinful flesh...because he loves you".

And if we wanted to stretch this bad boy beyond the bounds of reasonable inference (my favorite) we could place him among early 19th century scriptural geologist types who are using the tools of the Enlightenment to try and walk back any philosophical gains by proving that the Biblical flood was a real and literal occurrence that left worldwide evidence. This isn't a story he's telling himself, its the physical observable reality of the world. It's carved in the rock. And yet, when someone implies that they don't believe, its catastrophic. You're not supposed to think about it too hard. You're not allowed.

He's trying to share this very personal, foundational, soul-deep belief that suffering is good because its part of the plan, whether it be in obeying orders that dont make sense (build the ark while bystanders call you a fool) or enduring extreme conditions (forty days of rain while everyone you know drowns) or the day to day ordeal of wrestling with one's own depravity. It can be joyful! Its good to be chosen! There's a rainbow promise coming at the end! Singing is fun! And Hickey looks at him like he's out of his mind and that's when the shouting starts.

The entire scene is what, less that three minutes? But I could mine it for days. Hats off

#the terror #youll eat your vegetables (contstant jirvposting) and you will like it #i get it now i get why people flip out over representation #neurotic just like me!!#john irving #yeah there is really nothing going on at work why do you ask?

135 notes · View notes

unproduciblesmackdown · 4 months ago

Text

among the boundless billions zaniness like laugh track as it definitely has that moment of expressing "rolling my eyes as The Left makes a kerfuffle of Acting like they have a stance as a veneer over the true belief that [xyz] is cool & chill actually" like what, approximate 0.000% chance wendy isn't, as usual, given the Objective Stance of "yeah yeah ohh we are cancelling involved parties talking about how we Don't watch this But. we all love this damn epic movie & already have it memorized so shut the fuck up, kids today" like. don't wanna really delve into how much billions thinks taylor or anyone is "really" trans / nonbinary like not too much benefit of the doubt in this material including what does provide info abt that specifically

& the general like [head in hands. what do you think any of this could possibly be about (you're the one that made your show at all about Power)] of "yes, it's bad/wrong to be someone that someone has done something to / victim of something" like that to be anti misogyny All Women Must Be Epic Winners b/c there's something to be proved: that they don't Deserve to be victims (of misogyny), not taken as a Given. while when we see some epic winner men stepping on other men (who need not all be guaranteed Winners so as to say misogyny is wrong), that's often Good, well beyond any assumption that various forms of basic disrespect / violation / patterns of emergent/entrenched power difference as Bad (for being things done to people, not for there being people they're being done to), & generally billions has to take an extra step when ppl get shitted on & tell us the Specific Cases when it was undeserved actually & someone was being mean to a specific person who didn't deserve that. & the specific cases when hey guess it wasn't that bad(tm) or when hey It's Okay that you're someone something was done to, in this case. & tell us what we were supposed to know all along like when someone who something was being done to (wrong Of Them, whether b/c they inherently deserve it no matter what, &/or b/c they failed to be someone who could make it Impossible to do anything to them, which, how do you do that besides being The Authority / Superior yourself, exactly? nonrhetorically? what if the in group vs out group / fascism / authoritarianism protected Me?) was actually being treated Too Well b/c ah well the abuse meant you were getting any attention, maybe it meant you were claimed as any superior's property, maybe it meant you weren't Already disposed of, as all Losers were in the end, You're Welcome.

obviously referring to winston where it's spelled out all the abuse towards him was deserved, & More than he deserved in the case of rian having more access & taking advantage of that, all for billions' enjoying its own sendoff there of, again, maximizing violation & violence short of [real violence is physical & leaves bruises / draws blood / Literally kills] which would be distasteful in general But doesn't it make wags look like the winner & winston the loser is that the former's completely unrelated completely impersonal ego blow gets way amplified taken out on winston, the most vulnerable recurring character when spyros as [first & ultimate Everyone Hates Him role] is more entrenched in there & billions still magnanimously pities tuk, as it does winston too, just not quite as much. again that like completely surface level realized power fantasy of forcing the mirror up to the Inferior so they're like nooo my inferiorityyyy & in doing so like, the projection in that lmao, we get it re: the valuing of & need(tm) for such Power Tripping & Reaffirming My Superiority & My Ego Restored; Everyone Claps like good god. & then for all ben & tuk are the slightly softer Two Too Nice Boys duo to the rian & winston quant duo, also like too nice i guess but not as much, ben is in charge of tuk but Any instance of rian being in charge of winston outstrips them in that "yay interpersonal abuse" dynamic, like then in the end billions may be like "yeah it's possible to be mean to them unlike how being mean to winston is actually Nice b/c he deserves everything he gets, we only vicariously enjoy it vs Feeling Bad for tuk & ben sometimes (still magnanimously & it's Not That Bad / just goofin)" like ben & tuk still Fail by not being people it's impossible to do anything to. & not Exceptions who anyone is really being Too Mean to. like if they were women, in which case, no problem surely with a "positive" kind of victim blaming where there is something Inherent that Will be victimized so hey how about to cancel that out there's this special Paternal Protection you Need always, Or Else? :) but instead they are men who are asian & is ben gay & w/tuk & winston nobody mentions glasses or fatness but billions doesn't really do much or very in depth textual mentioning of Anything, even w/nonzero mention that there may be gender & race in this world. a gay man, once. no disability. we just Know who are the inferiors who deserve it when they're treated inferiorly, or if they don't, they start deserving it when they fail to stop/avoid it, but if you start mentioning the factors behind who we all totally agree is inferior like whoa nobody was Saying any of that? being the real agent of oppression on the basis of the factors only You spelled out, much? nonbinary? i never say anything about the Gender Binary when i'm subscribing to it, sounds like You've created & enforced it. obfuscation & deflection onto [so Just Normal nobody has to label, explain, or argue it] couldn't serve a purpose & protect the existing power differences as they are. maybe You're the problem? perhaps you brought it upon yourself & now you're causing too much trouble standing up for yourself while everyone else's criticism is laser focused on you as the prior & continuing negative actions done to you are taken as a given / unquestioned / covertly protected to overtly encouraged?

anyway so wild if the Completely Normal(tm) Victim Blaming is uncritically recreated & oft embraced for "if you're watching this & don't wish you were axe / find him appealing" [billions as a sequence of vicarious power trips] purposes in this series....but a bit wild considering like this is your multiseason show that wasn't just purporting to be those power trips for [enough demographic & apparently specific personal tastes overlap w/creators] & was at all purporting to question the matters of power at play in the material, or yknow, at least to not be completely superficial material while said material is textually & thematically all about power difference being leveraged, how, the consequences, & so on. thus i will have to intermittently talk about it forever like this like lord unbelievable. & the funny little & sometimes less funny less little characters it has trapped in there so that those of us who were never meant to be in the audience can be cursed with this knowledge. like i have some feedback. "imagine not victim blaming" & "imagine adjusting your perspective can go beyond superficial layers added to politely defer to some other ppl while they're present but really like cmon do they deserve that. am i not just saying what we're allll thinking"

#another random night another Verbal Effusion of [forehead to hand]#winston billions #who needs actual questions about power or the consequences of getting to consider others Lessers & acting accordingly #when we can last minute be like uh wendy is god actually. take it away wendy (wait she just does whole other shit half the season)#okay Now take it away wendy i guess b/c the series is dead set on you being the Moral Center #if mostly b/c gosh everyone either loves owning you as pseudo wife or correctly recognizes & defers to your superiority #the scene i couldn't bear to sit through at the start of s7 way too long sequence of wendy Going To Work to the ''cuz im awesome'' song #i was like. lol. i was like okay that is wendy's mood / perspective then. Wrong. it was billions conveying Fact to the audience. rip #abt as great setup for ''the only other shoe that finally dropped was that of Yeah It's This Completely Surface Level'' as possible (:#prince has exactly the same attitudes & actions as wendy does? uh well you see. it's just bad when he does it #if only more wendys were in charge. if only we go ''well even if it's bad if wendy does it? or axe or whoever? Could Be Worse''#nothing to analyze in the [but at least it's not worse] dead end re: justification of Power Leveraging & minimization of its consequences #tl;dr just the victim blaming embraced everywhere & the idea that everything that Deviates from the Norm Too Ethically Mindedly #is just that veneer slapped on overtop of [haha but truly: the norm] like no but seriously we all know It's Not That Deep(tm)#even for the characters written to exercise this [my Extra Mile Ethics] trait regularly it's expressed as this Polite Addendum #to the [what's Really at play] normal. the And Enbies tacked on; that's that on that & it Is an extra veneer to the norm #prince asking if taylor's changing up their pronouns; no more Meant a red flag than him immediately shitting on winston i'm sure #yet yknow why tf suppose taylor more than anyone else would Change Pronouns. taylor who the series also only ever shows as being #misgendered As A Woman. whose drag / cisguise As A Woman is not treated in the same way a man's would be / is #whose emotive / expressive affect isn't either. billions like [the genders are m/f] to [perhaps also amab/afab] Tacked On #as something politely Extra you do to their face that doesn't actually change (threaten) your idea of what's just Normal & True #like it's normal & true that ugh god don't you hate the autistic people around you? don't you wish you could go sicko mode on them #so that they couldn't be around you anymore & they'd have brought it upon themself & really it was good of you b/c The Group Cohesion #thanks you & b/c you just gave them free ABA? yes yep Surely Unquestionably #problem isn't abuse & concomitant violation in & of itself. it's Bad to be someone that's done to. we will announce Exceptions #rest of you either you brought it upon yourself or you failed to Correct that you're not someone who inherently deserves it #that is: someone who just can & will Stop It if done to them. well so you see winston pushing back is ignored or treated to further #backlash & then he withdraws (expression of his experience / creation of a consequence which tells the other Stop Doing This)#&/or otherwise conveys displeasure / being hurt (same as before. ''uh well push back / express xyz'' ppl did & were steamrolled/ignored)

3 notes · View notes