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builtbybrokenbells · 3 months

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belladonna | iii (pt. 1)

too beautiful to resist, and too deadly to survive; the tragic tale of belladonna in all its glory.

masterlist | taglist

Pairing: Danny Wagner x f!reader, f!reader x OC

Word Count: 15k

Warnings: mentions of toxic/abusive parents, mentions of/toxic relationships, mentions of criminal activity/criminal records, poverty, mentions of homelessness, mentions of physical violence, mentions of blood, mentions of AA/NA, NA meetings, heavy descriptions of addictions, use of/mentions of drugs, mentions of relapsing, mentions of OD, mentions of drinking, flirting, mentions of hookups/sex, smoking, depression/anxiety, mental health struggles, swearing, sorry if I miss any!!

here’s part one of two! lots of heavy stuff in this part and some more character background, but we do get to see some romance begin to blossom. im excited to share, but even more excited for you guys to read the next part. thanks for being amazing, i love you guys 🤍

April 22, 2022

The morning was violent, so much so that it managed to pull you from a slumber fit for the dead. As you rolled over on your couch, your journal tumbled from your stomach and landed on the floor with a thump that echoed through the entire room. The large panel windows with rotted sills glistened under the blazing sunlight, too bright and warm for you to withstand. You squeezed your eyes shut again to block out the rays, but instead of blackness, the usual void seemed red with the light beaming directly on your face. You withdrew a long breath, rubbing your face in your hands to pull yourself out of the claws of exhaustion. After a moment, you managed to invigorate yourself enough to sit up straight, but it came with ample consequences.

Your body ached so desperately that it felt like your bones had twisted and morphed into something new, and your throat scratched with dryness every time you tried to swallow. Your head pounded with every breath and only ever worsened as you moved. There was a kink in your neck that you could not massage out if you tried, and your stomach was twisted with upset. You woke up the same every morning, like you were still in active addiction and your body was craving the substance with a fervor. It was a phantom pain that passed not long after you started your day, but while it existed, it was incredibly difficult to get through. No matter how long you had been sober for, you awoke every morning with the incessant urge to fall back into old habits.

That specific morning it seemed so much worse than others, and you feared that if you had even the slightest lapse in willpower, you would end up on the bathroom floor submitting to an entity so sinister that it would ruin your life all over again.

So, instead of taking the risk, you checked your phone to see what time it was. When the white letters splayed ten o’clock, you knew you could rush to the old AA hall they had donated to the druggies when the state funded a new building and catch the morning meeting. If you were lucky enough, you could make it in time to grab one or two of the stale muffins from the day prior and save some money on groceries. You noticed the pen that had once sat atop the journal (that had once sat atop you) had fallen onto the torn cushions of the couch and was now stabbing into your side. With a huff of frustration, you tossed it to the floor, where it struck the old vinyl tile and rocketed under one of the other pieces of furniture.

You stood, feeling woozy from the illness plaguing you and seemingly eating away at your insides. With a vow to ignore it, you trudged to the bathroom to comb your hair and brush your teeth. The intense mint from the toothpaste was aggravating your already sick stomach, and you fought back a gag as you struggled through the basic task. You washed your face, hoping the cold water would distract you, but the sting of the frigid liquid on your tired skin only annoyed you further. In a poor mood, you forced yourself through the rest of your routine and ran to your bedroom. You changed into a pair of jeans that once belonged to your oldest brother, and a sweater that belonged to your youngest brother. To top it off, you threw on a fleece lined plaid jacket to keep out the harsh wind, noticing yet another rip in the already worn out fabric.

You grabbed your pack of cigarettes from the counter on the way out the door, tying your boots in the hallway after deciding that tripping over laces would be the (theoretical) straw that broke the camel's back. You broke out into the bitter air, the smell of city smog filling your lungs and the nip of morning frost biting at your cheeks. You shoved your headphones into your ear, pressing play on a playlist that had been ringing through your living room all night long. With a brief check over your shoulder, you hopped to the other side of the street and began walking down the winding side road in hopes of finding a Hail Mary.

After a seemingly treacherous journey, you trudged up the wooden steps that were nearly rotten all the way through. You clasped your fingers around the large metal handle and pulled the oak door open, the creaks echoing through the barren entryway. You stepped inside, your mind still swimming with relentless thoughts and your cheeks blushed with chill. You slipped your headphones into the pocket of your hoodie and moved further inside, surveying the room before going any further. The old building was once a church, and when it was abandoned, the state took it over and rebranded it for Alcoholics Anonymous meetings. Back then, it went hand in hand with the motto, as most that turned vile due to their addictions believed themselves to be devout Christian’s. Some believed it was blasphemous to use such a building for people who had disgraced the name of god, and others thought it to be perfectly fitting. Either way, God did not have a hand in what happened in the building, nor was he worthy of credit for the recovery of the people.

When the government decided AA was worthy of a better building, they still failed to recognize addicts as people deserving of recovery (or help, even), and left the old building for anyone to do as they pleased with. For a little while, it was home to a small family of homeless people, and only once the city grew sick of them did they decide an NA program was worthwhile. State ‘funded’ and utterly disappointing, they held meetings twice a day that were led by a single member of the mental health board (and not even an addictions expert, at that) and were mostly self-guided. As much as the program lacked, you still found it comforting to sort through your issues with fellow addicts who also fucked up their lives beyond repair. That, and it was the only intervention that was consistently accessible, and free.

You hated knowing that your recovery was based off a paycheck, and that bettering yourself as a person was dependent upon affordability, yet you knew this to be reality. Treatment programs were expensive, and the only one you had ever been to had left you with a debt you would never shake off your shoulders. From then, you knew you had to be in charge of your recovery, and that started with improving your willpower to stay sober. You could not afford anything more than self-help journals, and with every backslide, you understood that medical bills were piling higher and higher. Sobriety was the only option, because if not, poverty was the punishment. Unfortunately, poverty was a breeding ground for mental illness (which you already suffered enough of), and mental illness was a slippery slope that lead you straight back to square one.

Complaining about NA would not get you any further ahead, so you often had to swallow your distaste and appreciate it for what it was. At least there was some type of intervention, even if it was lousy. Without it, you would have nothing but yourself, and you had come to realize that was one thing you could not solely rely on, as you were a nothing shy of a trained professional in bad decisions and fucking up.

You noticed the circle of fold out chairs, half filled with zombie-like shapes that only passed as people on a good day. Today, as it seemed, was not a good day. Most of the attendees were forced to be there by parole regulations, and others only came for a warm place to sit for an hour. Some, like yourself, wanted help, but most cared about the free food more. As you approached the group, you made a stop at the table with the coffee canister and expired creamer, pouring yourself two cups to sip away at while you spilled your guts. Thankfully, there were plenty of muffins left, and when nobody was looking, you managed to slip a few in your large pockets (which was the exact reason you wore that specific jacket).

As you took a seat, you surveyed for any familiar faces. There was an older women, frail looking with mousy blonde hair and sad eyes. Her name was Carol, and she was the most frequent attendee of all of the meetings. Even so, you knew her to be a woman who was sober, but nowhere near recovered. She’d been through the twelve step program a hundred times, yet never seemed to harness all that she’d learned. She was tired, sorrowful and a little timid, yet had a fiery side that matched the devil. She often talked about her mistakes like they were small blips, yet did not seem to comprehend that even if they were unavoidable, they had consequences that were detrimental to her and her family. More specifically, it affected her children, in which she mentioned their no-contact order at least once a meeting.

You felt bad for her, but not enough to extend a helping hand. She was a great example of ‘reap what you sow’ and she reminded you too much of your own mother to ignore it. Every time you began to feel some shred of sympathy, you would think of her four kids who suffered at the hands of her own lack of self control. She knew nothing about accountability, and was in so much denial that she was blaming the no contact order on the children who filed it, rather than the woman who caused it. She would never recover unless she understood the implications of her actions, and that she caused all that happened, even if she felt powerless at the time. She could abstain from using drugs until her last breath, yet she would never escape the addict mentality.

The coordinator, Liam, was by the windows organizing his meeting checklist. He hadn’t noticed you yet, but you were certain that when he did, a smart comment would be casted in your direction. He was in his mid-thirties, and he wasn’t the worst person in the world to share a piece of your soul with. If anything, over the months of going to meetings, you had actually grown quite fond of him. He was a trained mental health professional, and even if his specialty was not addiction, he still cared enough to dedicate his time to helping others. You were certain that he was not paid well for his two hours a day, and he was working it atop his other job. There was a part of him that loved the charity, and as a true councillor should, cared about helping people more than anything else.

As you sipped at your coffee, Liam approached the group with his head still nestled in his clipboard. As more people trudged in, he looked up to smile as they situated themselves, and that’s when his eyes landed on you. There was a sparkle of something you could not place your finger on, and it made you bite back a laugh. He stepped in your direction, tapping his pen against the cork material of the board as he thought of a snarky remark. “You lose your calendar?” He asked, raising an eyebrow. “It’s not Wednesday.”

“No, it’s not. Astute observation, smartass.” You replied, smirking at him. The one good thing about NA was him, and the fact that you felt like you could be yourself around him. He was not a bible thumper, nor was he a hardass; he was a person who knew struggle, taking time to help other people with their struggle. He understood that you were a barely-adult who dealt with your pain with humour, especially after watching you interact with Dylan and Vincent, and he used it to his advantage. Every now and again, he had to crack the whip to ensure you weren’t using humour to deflect, but most of the time, he agreed that it was a good coping mechanism.

“You just missed me so much, huh?” He sighed, tapping the end of his pen against the board, now. It send a dull yet steady sound through the immediate air, and it was the equivalent to nails on a chalkboard for your already migraine-ridden brain.

“Hardly,” you muttered, taking another long gulp of coffee while hoping it would ease the pain in your skull. “Figured if I had to choose between you and the detox box, I’d pick you.”

“Smart choice.” He complimented. “Where’s your company?”

“You really think they’d come to a non-mandated meeting? Are you insane?”

“Some would say so.” He shrugged. “Proud of you for choosing sobriety, y/n.”

“Oh, fuck off with your sentimental bullshit.” You grumbled, but couldn’t deny the tugging of your heartstrings. If there was one thing you loved, it was being told that someone was proud of you. Of course, you were never willing to show your appreciation for the fact, but you definitely held the words close. “You better get started before Carol starts crying or Joey falls asleep.” You said, nodding your head in the direction of the two sitting side by side. Joey seemed as if he was nodding off, and Carol was already weepy-eyed.

“Right, it’s about that time.” He sighed, nodding curtly. “Alright, everyone! Come grab a seat so we can get started!” His voice echoed through the mostly empty room, bouncing off the walls peeling of their paint. The large windows sent flutters of golden light through the room, illuminating the specs of dust in the air. When you looked above the pointed window tops, you could see the shadow of a cross that remained stained to the wallpaper even long after it was removed. The grime of the building ensured that the memory would remain indefinitely. As Liam walked towards his chair at the head of the circle, the small heels of his dress shoes clacked against the rickety floorboards. When he sat, the legs of the plastic foldout chair scraped against the already scuffed panels. It was underwhelming in its entirety, yet you found it oddly comforting.

As the bodies pooled into the chairs, leaving ample spaces between themselves as they sat down, you crossed your legs and pulled the frumpy jacket closer to your body. The building was drafty, shifting and groaning under every strong gust of wind and threatening to give out under the pressure. You picked at the threads of loose skin around your fingernails, awaiting Liam’s routine meeting opener.

“Good morning, everyone.” He spoke, his voice echoing throughout the whole room. He was cheerful, but not overly, and he was excited to get his part over with so he could sit back and observe. “As some of you know, Friday’s are completely open discussion days, just the same as Monday. If this isn’t your cup of tea and you’d like to check out the speaker meetings where I guide you through the steps of recovery, you can stop by from Tuesday to Thursday. I’m here at the same time every day, 11am and 2pm, so if you require another session outside of your normal attendance schedule, you know where to find me.” There were a few mutters of agreement from the crowd, but most of them had their eyes on the clock, waiting for the hour to finish despite it only just getting started.

“Are there any newcomers in the crowd today?” The question was mandated, even if he already knew the answer. He recognized you all from the minute you stepped in; the whole crowd was familiar with each other now. “Right, okay.” He nodded, jotting something down on his clipboard. “As always, remember that if you run into any issues outside of the normal meeting times, we always implore you to give a call to the friends you’ve made here. There’s a list of numbers available by the door for anyone who has volunteered to be a sponsor. Remember—“

“Dial it, don’t file it.” The whole group chanted back to him before he could speak. The mantra was drilled so deeply into your brain that you were sure you muttered it in your sleep. He gave a tight lipped smile, understanding the redundancy of his words.

Open speaker meetings were your favorite. You did not find much solace in Liam droning on for a half an hour, as his personal experience with addiction was nonexistent. It was a comfort to tell your story and have it touch others, and it was nice when you could hear the struggles of other people. It made you feel less alone, and it felt less clinical. When Liam took up an hour of your time, yapping away about resilience and self awareness, it was difficult not to fall asleep in your chair. You chose Wednesday’s as your regular days when you learned it was Vincent and Dylan’s scheduled day, but not for many other reasons. Sometimes, it was nice to hear advice and encouragement, but in the long run, it did not hold much value to you. You opted to go to plenty of meetings outside of your normal time, just so you could get all of the benefits of it.

“Remember to stick around after the meeting so we can hand out chips or tags, whichever you prefer. If you brought your white chip with you today, we can upgrade you to silver.” He gave a smile, as if handing in a surrender token was a victory and a 24-hour token was a milestone. You were certain that everyone around you had a million silver and white tokens littered across their homes, yet it never seemed to stick. You knew that for you, at least, a silver token was a punch in the gut rather than a pat on the back. “So, if there’s no questions, we can get started.” He said, surveying the crowd for a raised hand or an interested eye. When he was met with nothing, he gave a slow nod, crossing his legs and taking in a long breath. “Would anyone like to start us off?”

The silence was so abundant that you could hear the honking of horns from the road. You waited for the chirp of crickets, but you knew that the building was filled with too much asbestos to house any living creature, insects included. Spiders on the other hand had seemed to grow resilience when it came to the toxicity of the environment, which only made them superhuman in comparison to their former self. You could see a few dangling from cobwebs in the corners of the room.

“I’ll go,” you said, speaking up only when the silence grew unbearable. “If nobody else wants to, I can start.”

“Sure,” Liam nodded, smiling at your willingness to proceed. “Whenever you’re comfortable.”

You took a moment to gather your thoughts, making yourself wonder why you had actually shown up on that solemn Friday morning. What had been so troublesome that you rushed out your front door the minute you woke up so you could attend a meeting?

That was a loaded question, one that likely had a million answers, but you settled on the thoughts that felt most pressing to you.

“I often hear the same sentiment when I talk about my addictions. I get the same sad smiles and sympathetic eyes, the ones that tell me that I’m more fucked up then even I can comprehend. I can see the refrain in their faces, like they want to run and hide. I get that it’s hard to understand something when you’ve never experienced it, but sometimes it makes me wonder how it’s so easy to dehumanize people who’ve gone through or are currently facing struggle.” You didn’t stop speaking for a reaction, but rather to gather your many thoughts before speaking them aloud. It seemed as though you were in more of a talking mood than you previously thought, because now that you had begun, you felt no inclination to stop.

“When someone grieves, we do not go out of our way to alienate them from us. When someone gets in an accident, we parade around with bouquets of flowers and well wishes. When alcoholics drink themselves to the point of no return, we put them on a transplant list for a new liver and hand out brochures on how to live a sober life. Why is it when someone learns that I’m an addict, I am denounced to nothing but a thief and a criminal? What makes my struggle different? What makes me less worthy of help?” You posed the question to the crowd, not expecting a real answer. “All of the aforementioned reasons are worthy of sympathy and compassion, but it makes me question why my struggle is not. Why, even when I walk into an Alcoholics Anonymous hall and speak my troubles aloud, they look at me as if I’m evil, as if their addiction is better than mine? The superiority complex of an addict who deems their addiction more digestible than my own makes my skin crawl, yet I see it every day.”

“I’ve been an addict since I was born, even if I didn’t touch drugs until I was a teenager. The addiction was engraved in my brain since conception—no matter active or not, I will always have the symptoms of the disease. It was shown to me first by my father, who was willing to abandon his three children in search of a high. I learned the rest of it from my mother, who was the highest functioning alcoholic I have ever met.” You paused, forcing your thoughts away from the face of your mother, which only ever seem to enrage you.

“When I was three, I was addicted to apple juice. I used to scream and cry and kick my feet until I was red in the face and my lungs started to ache. As soon as they placed that Disney Princess sippy-cup in my hands, it was like they shot me with a fucking tranquilizer dart. Two hours later, it started all over again. When I was seven, it was marshmallows. When I was eleven, it was that stupid fucking ‘Peggle’ game on my brothers Xbox. When I turned thirteen, I drank alcohol with my best friend for the first time. We stole it from her parents' liquor cabinet and drank so much we threw up for two whole days.” You explained, leaning forward in your chair and looking towards the floor.

“Even as I spilled my guts over that toilet and spent forty eight hours in misery, I knew that apple juice had nothing on alcohol, and it had given me more satisfaction than anything ever had. On my fifteenth birthday, all of my friends were out of town, so I thought I’d have my own fun at home alone, and hopefully drown out the sound of my mother terrorizing my brothers in the living room.” You explained, giving an empty smile. “I looked through my mothers pill cabinet, pulling out bottles and typing names into my phone to find out what it would do for me. I went back to my bedroom with three little white pills in my hand, locking the door behind me and sealing my fate for the rest of eternity.” You took in a long breath, closing your eyes for a moment. “That night, I discovered that OxyContin was far more effective than ‘Peggle’, and from there, I became the worst version of myself.” You heard a few hums of agreement around the room, unable to look up at the sad eyes staring at you. You knew that they hated seeing someone so young face the evil fangs of opiates, but no matter if they were sympathetic or not, you were still hurting over it just the same. Silence became you and you were unsure if talking was making it better, or hurting you more.

“My point is,” you continued, feeling your courage begin to return. “I didn’t wake up on my fifteenth birthday and decide to be an addict. I didn’t decide to be an addict every time I used after that, because it was never a choice. If you have bipolar disorder, it was in your brain long before you ever showed symptoms. If you have cancer, half of your insides are rotten before they catch it. I had an addiction long before I ever touched drugs, and I’ll have an addiction until the day I die. It does not make me lesser than anyone else, and it doesn’t make me a bad person. I had shit luck and poor genes, and I’ll suffer for the rest of my life, but my suffering does not make me a bad person, and it does not make me any different than another person walking down those streets. I’m not inherently evil because of it; I’m just someone who’s made mistakes, trying to atone for them. I’m still that little girl crying for apple juice, or that pre-teen begging my brother to play a game. The only difference is, I’ve had a taste of something far more powerful and much more lethal. I’m tired of being painted the villain, because it was the substance that turned me bad. I hurt people, and I hurt myself, but every day I wake up and choose to be different. It does not take away from what I have already done, but it does change to who I will be. That is the difference between a good person and a bad person, not the demons they’re fighting against.”

“I’m an addict, and I know I will be an addict until the day I die. I was born that way, but I made the conscious decision to use, and I will be stuck repenting for that until my last breath. I can’t sit before you and tell you I regret my decisions, because those were some of the best days of my life. I don’t regret it, even if it was a mistake. It was the best thing I have ever felt. I wake up every day still craving the high, wondering if it’s easier to just give in and let go. I spend every waking minute chasing that feeling, and even if I know I can never have it again, it doesn’t mean I don’t want it. It’s a constant struggle, a reminder of my own mistakes that I’m still trying to run away from, and it’s torture. At the same time, I came here today because I’ve been stuck wondering if it’s possible to change, to not be this person anymore.”

“I want to be good, to love life without being dependent on substance, but I worry that it’s not possible. I want to breathe without restraint, and I want to live without chains constantly holding me down. When I think about how hard it is to stay sober, I try to remember how hard it is to be an addict, and sometimes not even that can scare me away. I want to go back to the days where ‘Peggle’ and marshmallows could make me feel the same way. I’m trying to be something I’m not, and I’m afraid it’s not ever possible to be what I want. Will I be seventy years old and happy that I stayed sober, or will I be in that rocking chair looking back at my life, surrounded by grandchildren yet still remembering what it felt like to swallow that pill? Worse than that, I worry that seventy will never be in my hands, and I’ll die of the sickness before I can ever see it.” You paused, realizing that you were taking up far too much time. You blinked hard, bringing yourself back to reality and settling back in your chair. You looked to the water stained ceilings with tears pricking your dry eyes, wondering how the hell you got yourself here.

“Sobriety has been my best friend and my worst enemy, and I came here today because it’s my enemy. I know what I need to do, but today just it doesn’t seem possible. For now, I’m here. Tomorrow, I’ll wake up and try again, because that’s all I can do. When it feels impossible, I just keep telling myself that it’s for the best. I'm no stranger to starting from zero, so what the hell is one more try, right?” A slow round of applause echoed around the room. You fought back an eye roll, knowing that all that you had said was not worthy of a celebration. It was a ugly thing, a eulogy to your former self, and sobriety had never been something you were proud of. It was a struggle, and it was something you could never seem to commit to. Trying again was your area of expertise because of how good you were at fucking up, and you did not feel right celebrating a temporary victory while the hardest battle was still looming just overhead.

“I can speak for everyone when I say that we’re incredibly happy that you decided to come here today.” Liam said, sending you a smile from across the circle. You forced one back, unable to hold his gaze for very long. “You’re not starting over again, y/n, you’re just starting to try harder.”

“Right,” you nodded, tracing the scarred stick-and-poke tattoo that was already fading away from the back of your hand. It did not feel like you were trying harder. If anything, it felt like you were closer to giving up.

If you had a shred of self awareness, you would have been able to see that because of that fact alone, you were trying harder than you ever had.

As Liam opened the floor for another poor soul, you thought over all you had said in your confessional. You wondered why you were feeling all of those things so strongly, and why they seemed to be worse today even in comparison to the days you spent sweating and shaking on a bathroom floor. Then, you remembered Vincent’s harsh words thrown your way the night prior, feeling yourself ache from the memory as if he was standing in front of you saying it all over again.

Vincent was your best friend, the one constant you had since packing your entire life up and moving across the country. He knew everything about you, held you at your worst and shared the happiest days. You cared so deeply about him, and definitely in a way stronger than friends, but you so badly wished you didn’t. Him knowing you so well made it easy for him to hurt you, and despite all the good he had and could still do, he consistently proved to you that he did not want to do good by you. He knew you so well, but it was the very reason why he had so much power to hurt you. Vincent wanted to love, but he did not know how. His feelings were fragile just as well as his ego, and he did not understand a thing about change. He was stuck in his way, never willing to see a different side of things, and because of that, it drove the two of you apart. The night prior, when he’d been so crude and unapologetic about his feelings about you and Danny, he wanted to hurt you in the same way he was hurting.

Lucky for him, he did just that, and even more so. He wanted to hurt, and hurt he did. It was so bad that you found yourself seeking comfort from strangers in an NA hall. It was so bad that it made you want to turn to drugs to take the ache away.

What he said stuck with you, and not just because he was the one who said it. Of course it hurt that he would say such terrible things to you, but you had grown used to Vincent taking his anger out on you in the form of harsh words and insults. Most of the time, you could brush it off after a while of sulking, but it hung over your head because you were terrified he was right. You liked Danny for many reasons, one being that he was nothing like Vincent. That being said, he was also nothing like you.

He did not know what it was like growing up with parents like yours, nor what it was like to spend most of his adolescence in and out of rehabilitation programs and therapy. He did not understand what it felt like to be at the police department, filing yet another missing persons report for his father, or better yet, getting detained for a night but unable to be held due to age. He did not know what it was like to run away from home every other weekend because sleeping under a park bench seemed more appealing than sharing a space with his mother. More than anything, he did not understand what it was like for drugs to take precedence over every other thing in his life. You certainly didn’t take him as such, and you were sure that by now, you would have seen some inkling that he was like you. You wanted to find anything that could relate to your tragic life, but there was nothing.

You looked back on all of your conversations, wondering if maybe you missed something he said, but it all aligned perfectly with Vincent’s venomous words. He played golf, specifically with his dad, he was traveling the world with his best friends to find ‘inspiration’ without needing to find a part time job in every city, and he confided in you once on a Sunday evening that he missed his mom.

Danny did not know what life was like for you, nor would he ever, even if he tried. Your struggle was completely foreign to him, and although he seemed like someone with a big heart and the desire to understand and sympathize with everyone he came across, you feared that once he knew all of you, he would run with no intention of ever coming back. You couldn’t blame him, because your baggage was too heavy for even yourself at times, but you would be lying if you said it didn’t hurt. It was a terrible feeling to have, knowing that no matter how much you like someone, you can never be completely transparent and honest with them about yourself. You would never expect him to accept the tragedies that accompanied you, and you felt foolish for thinking that you could have a relationship with someone so normal while you were so far from it.

You wanted him to be the one to take you away from such things, but you feared the tragedy ran so deep that you would be the one to bring him down with you.

Of course Vincent would be the one to point out your flaws and ruin a good thing before it happened.

Then again, you could not blame him, because you were equally as good at fucking things up.

You liked Danny too much to cut him off entirely, so you decided to continue on with the texting and calling, and even the laughing until 4am and the harmless flirting. You would cut it off when the time was right, just so you didn’t fall too hard for him. You knew it was best, because he was too good to get caught up in you. He was someone you could have fun with, to distract you while you built yourself back up. He would leave eventually anyway, and you would never have to think about it again. Your skies were much too dark for a rainbow, and now that you were thinking of it, you weren’t sure they had ever seen anything as bright as him. This way, you could enjoy him for the time being, but you wouldn’t get your heart broken when he decided you were too much for him. It was a win-win for both of you.

Even if you chose to believe such things, you failed to see that you had already gotten your heart broken at the idea of being too broken. Your current situation made you believe all of the previous notions even more deeply, because you had not even faced rejection at Danny’s hands and you were already sitting in a talk circle listening to people drone on about their love of smack and resentment towards their family for keeping them away from it. You were fragile enough that you’d hurt your own feelings with feeble ideas and assumptions, and you were so weak that it nearly killed your ambition to stay sober. Most of all, you were selfish for wanting to subject Danny to such things at all.

That was one habit you could not kick when you got sober; you were a selfish being who loved to feel good, and now that you could not get high, you had to search for thrills elsewhere. Danny made you feel good, and so good that you could not fathom giving that up even if it was better for everyone to do so.

The meeting wrapped up later than usual, mostly due to Carol’s inconsolable crying as she blubbered on about her youngest daughter's wedding and how her invitation got ‘lost in the mail’. You bit your tongue, knowing that correcting her assumptions about the situation would do no good and would only get you a scolding from Liam (and those were the worst). You made sure your phone and your cigarettes were in your pocket before standing, feeling the muffins bounce against your leg. As if on cue, your stomach growled at the memory of the double chocolate treat that was wrapped in plastic, awaiting your attention. Liam instructed everyone to stop by before they left, to which only some of the attendees obliged to. Despite your growing stomach and desire to leave, you complied with the request and approached him before making your departure.

You were the first in line to speak with him, but it did not come as a surprise; usually you were the only one willing to see him once the hour was up. He still had his clipboard in his hand, his pen hovering over the paper as he searched for your name and crossed it off. “You’ve got a thing for apple juice,” he noted, looking up over the frames of his (seemingly expensive) glasses.

“What?” You chuckled, curious as to what he meant.

“You talk about apple juice at every meeting. Is that code for something else, or do you really just like it that much?” Now, you laughed, finding his inquiry less invasive and much more amusing.

“Not code,” you shook your head, the smile lingering on your lips. “I just really like it. When I was a kid, it was the only type of juice my mom would let me drink. Guess it reminds me of easier times, or maybe I still wish apple juice was the only addiction I had to worry about. I don’t really drink it anymore because I worry that I’m trading a drug addiction for an apple juice addiction. In my head, neither are good.” You theorized, looking towards the ground for a moment.

“I see,” he chuckled, reaching over and grabbing his bag and pulling out a red key tag. He handed it to you, smiling at the sight. “Three months as of tomorrow. I feel like I can trust you enough to give it to you a day early. Some motivation to get through the weekend.”

“Right,” you nodded, forcing a smile as you reached for it. “Maybe it would mean more if it was my first time.” You couldn’t help but feel some resentment at the sight. It was your second time getting a red key tag, and it lost all of its novelty once you had to give up the blue tag that signified six months. You almost had your hands on a yellow one, but you fell just shy of nine months after one particularly reckless night at the Pony. You’d had an arrangement of surrender and thirty day markers, but they were less catastrophic to lose when you started over again. Knowing you had nearly a year under your belt just to throw it all away made you sick to your stomach.

“You have to celebrate the little victories, y/n. You can’t always feel like you’re failing, because you’ll never have any motivation to get better.” He said, giving you a stern look.

“But it doesn’t really get better, Liam. It doesn’t matter if I have three months or three years, I’ll still be an addict and I’ll still want it just the same.” You shifted uncomfortably on your feet. “Recovery is just a bandage to keep yourself together. The longer this goes on, the more I feel like I’ll actually be seventy and still feel this way.”

“It’s easier to see when you’re further away from it. Right now, it’s all you know, but that doesn’t mean it will always be all that you know. Life grows around you, but you have to choose if you want to grow with it, or get lost in it.” He explained. You took the tag, shoving it in your pocket. You knew he was right, but it was easier to feel miserable than it was to be hopeful. It felt better when misery was proven wrong rather than when hopefulness was crushed. “You’re doing better than you think. You have three months under your belt. It doesn’t matter that it’s for a second time, it matters that you did it. Some people don’t even get there once.”

“I know.” You cleared your throat, fighting the tears rising in your throat. “Thanks, Liam. I’ll see you next week.” You said, finally looking to meet his eyes.

“Hold on,” he said, reaching back into his bag. You watched for a moment, wondering what he was searching for. Then, after a moment of uncomfortable silence, he pulled out a bottle from his bag. You looked to the ceiling, feeling your face burn and tears rush to your eyes. “I brought it for lunch, but now I think I brought it for a much different reason. You need it more than I do.”

“Liam, I can’t take that.” You shook your head, still looking at the peeling paint at the top of the walls.

“I insist.” He said, using a tone of finality. After a few seconds, you took a deep breath and looked towards him once again. Once you saw the certainty in his eyes, you reached out and took the bottle of apple juice from him with gratitude written all over your face. “Sometimes things are just as simple as apple juice, y/n, not the big complicated mess that you try and turn everything into. It’s not a metaphor, and you’re not trading apples for oranges. It’s a bottle of juice that’s going to make you feel better, and it’s something that won’t hurt you unless you make it into something bigger. You can enjoy it and not have to feel bad about it, just like you’re allowed to fuck up and still believe that you can do better.” He explained, giving you a smile. “You’re in control, whether that means getting high or drinking juice. You decide whether you should or not. Today, you decided to come here instead of getting high, and right now, you’re deciding to drink juice. You’re capable of doing better and being better, because you already have. Don’t convince yourself otherwise.”

“Your right,” You took in a long breath, closing your eyes to regain yourself. “Thank you, Liam.”

“No need for thanks.” He brushed you off, straightening up in his seat. “You have a number to call if you need it this weekend, right?”

“I do.”

“And you’ll use it?” He raised an eyebrow.

“I will.” You nodded. He did too, happy with your answer.

“Okay. I’ll see you next week.” He gave you permission to leave, happy that he seemed to have helped. You were a tough nut to crack, between your raging self-destructive attitude and your inability to see the positive side of things, but he was happy to be the one to finally make the difference.

You walked out the front door (sipping on apple juice, thanks to Liam), finding that the air had warmed since you had gone inside. The sun was brighter and the wind was less intense, making your spirits brighten as it gave you a promise of summer. You reached into your pocket to grab a cigarette, finding your chest had loosened from its earlier tension and your migraine begin to subside. As you pulled out your pack, you grumbled at the lightness of it. When you flipped the top open, revealing one last cigarette (upside down for luck, of course), you closed your eyes as you tried not to let the disappointment consume you. You wondered if you had enough money to buy another, hating yourself and the world for having to choose between paying rent or buying the only thing that was keeping you sane.

As you reached for your phone to check your account balance, the screen lit up to show the time. It was already well past twelve thirty, yet that wasn’t the thing that caught your attention. Below the bold numbers was a missed call, which was followed by an incoming text only a few moments later.

“Fuck!” You exploded, uncaring of the passerby’s giving you strange looks.

The addiction had been so pertinent that it allowed you to forget about your anticipated plans with the incredibly cute and sweet boy you couldn’t stop thinking about.

You dialed the number back, pressing the phone to your ear. Within seconds he answered, his cheery tone warming your heart immediately. “Utah! I was wondering when I’d hear from you. Was worried you forgot about me.”

“I’m so sorry Danny,” you sighed, looking around at the people passing you by. “I, uh… I had an appointment I forgot about.”

“That’s okay. How long are you gonna be? Or do you just want to call it off and reschedule?” His understanding was astounding, but it did not make you feel better; it was gut wrenching, and it made it so much harder to keep your heart out of things. Danny seemed fun, sure, but he also seemed like someone you could easily fall in love with. You were playing very a dangerous game.

“No, I’m all good now.” You promised. “If you still want to hang, of course.” The morning has thrown you so violently off course that you were doubting everything, including his interest in your despite him being the one who called first.

“F’course I do.” He chuckled. “I called, didn’t I?”

“Yeah,” you forced a chuckle, having to agree with him.

“You okay, Utah?” He asked, now seeming a bit concerned. “You don’t sound like yourself.”

“Oh, yeah. I’m fine.” You assured him. “Was just a rough morning is all, I’m okay now.”

“Hopefully I can make the rest of the day better, then.” He replied, sympathizing with your rough start to the day. He had no idea, but hearing his voice alone had already brightened your spirits. “We’re just driving around. We’re near the Fox if you want me to pick you up, or we can meet somewhere if that’s easier for you.”

“If I send you an address, you think you can find it?” You smirked, knowing he was in unfamiliar territory. You remembered how disoriented you felt when you first came to New York, wondering if he felt the same, or if he was one of those people who didn’t worry about anything at all.

“I’m sure the two of us could figure it out.”

“Whatever you say, Michigan.” You grinned. “See you in a few.”

“Can’t wait.” He said, sincerity laced within his tone.

With that, you ended the call and proceeded to check your bank account, happy to see you had more than you thought. You looked around, checking for cars before jumping off the front porch of the old church and crossing the street. As you cut through an old alleyway, you texted Danny the name of the gas station you were headed to, knowing you would be there before him. There was no way in hell you were going to let him pick you up from an NA hall on your first ‘date’.

Of course, you had little hope that it would be a real date at all, nor did you think that any date like activities would ensue afterwards. They were probably just looking for something to pass the time, and you served as a great tour guide.

As you walked through an old parking lot after the alley, you could already see the old sign for the store. You waited to cross the busy street, and when you saw a break in traffic, you sprinted to the other side. By doing so, it seemed like you instantly left the rough part of the neighbourhood. Fancy cars drove by and women in expensive clothes walked in and out of the convenience store. All the same, you felt immediately out of place.

Tired and still not feeling the best, you tossed the empty apple juice bottle in the garbage, pushing through the door and walking inside. It was moderately busy, but not enough to be bothersome to you. Before running to the register to grab a pack of cigarettes, you walked towards the back of the store where the candy aisle was located. Without much effort, you found the biggest bag of Warheads sour candy that you could see. After that, you turned towards the drink coolers and grabbed the cheapest energy drink. Satisfied with your choices, you walked to the register and placed the items on the counter. The older lady who was working gave you a long look, studying you as she rang in the items.

“Pack of reds?” She asked, already reaching towards the cabinet before you answered.

“How’d you know?” You chuckled, knowing that every few days you came in for the exact same thing.

“Think you’re the only one who buys these.” She said, looking over the bag of sour candy. “Have no idea how you can stand eating them.” She chuckled, watching as you tapped your card against the reader.

“They’re not half bad.” You smiled, waving her off as she tried to hand you the receipt. In truth, you didn’t love them. You had grown to tolerate most sour foods as it was an easy way to curb the craving for the things you could not have. The sourness was a shock, immediately distracting you from the relentless thoughts, and the sugar gave a nice dopamine rush that made you feel better for a few moments. You repeated the process until your tongue was in too much pain to have another, and by then, you were over the worst of the craving. “Have a good day!” You called over your shoulder as you walked out the door, not hanging around for long enough to hear an answer.

As the door shut behind you, you grabbed the last cigarette from your pack and struck the lighter. As the flame ignited the tip, you heard a commotion off to the side of the store where the bulk of the parking lot was. You turned, curious about the sound, but you were not stuck wondering about it for very long. As you focused your eyes under the blazing sun, your gaze fixated on a Jeep, but it was not the vehicle that kept your attention. Instead, it was the curly haired boy hanging his head out the window with a blinding smile on his lips. You could not help but smile back as he waved you over, uncaring about hiding his excitement to see you.

“Long time no see, Utah.” He greeted you as you walked within earshot. “Told you I could find my way around New York.”

“Seems like it.” You chuckled, taking a drag from your cigarette. Without any further comment, he opened the car door and stepped outside with you. “I’m glad you found me. Saves me from sending a search party out for you.”

“You really had such little faith in me?” He raised an eyebrow, his sunglasses sadly blocking your view of his pretty brown eyes.

“It doesn’t matter anyway, ‘cause you proved me wrong.” You grinned, already feeling the hurt in your chest begin to subside. When you were in his company, it was hard to feel sad about anything. He was so easygoing and excited about life that it was difficult to feel any differently than him. Then, he reached forward and pulled you into a hug, which made your stomach twist and your heart flutter. What would normally be an awkward moment, felt nothing like it. It was comfortable, it was safe, and it was right. You wrapped your arm around him, making sure to keep your cigarette away from his expensive looking jacket so you did not burn it.

The small gesture made all of your fears obsolete; he wanted to be with you, to hang out and waste the day with you. He was disappointed at the idea of cancelling plans, and overjoyed at the prospect of seeing you. He was genuine, and he was nothing like Vincent was trying to portray him as. You didn’t have to feel stupid for liking him so much in such a short time, because he felt the same way.

“I’m glad we didn’t have to cancel, Utah. Been looking forward to seeing you all morning.”

“Me, too.” You breathed. “I’m sorry I forgot about the appointment. Promise I wasn’t trying to blow you off.” You explained, still trying to hold on to the lingering scent of his cologne as he let go.

“No worries, I’m just glad you’re okay. And I’m glad you didn’t change your mind.” He confessed, a sheepish smile crossing his lips. “We still have a few hours before you have to get to work. I’m sure there’s lots we can do by then.”

“Yeah, for sure.” You nodded. “So what about this Sam guy I’ve been hearing all about? Is he imaginary?” You said, looking to the front seat to see nobody else in the car.

“That’s me,” You jumped in surprise when a head popped out from the backseat. A smiling face stuck between the two front seats let you know that Sam was in fact real. The tint on the windows allowed for him to stay concealed, but it did not answer any questions about why he was sitting in the backseat. Then, a second head popped out from between the seats, but this one was much cuter than the two boys combined. “And this is Rosie. Hope you like dogs.” Sam grinned, reaching up and wrapping an arm around her.

“Hi,” you laughed, unable to keep a straight face at the sight. “And I definitely do. No need to worry about that.”

“She is pretty, Daniel. You were right.” At that, your cheeks turned red, but not nearly as badly as Danny’s did.

“I should have left him at home.” Danny muttered, shaking his head at his friend.

“No worries,” you said, reaching out and landing a soft hand on his arm. “Good to know you think I’m pretty.”

“As if that wasn’t obvious enough.” He said, looking down at your hand on his arm for a moment, then back up at your face. The two of you shared a glance for a moment, wondering how it seemed so easy between you despite you barely knowing each other. You wanted more, to know him and to spend every afternoon making jokes and laughing. You wanted to kiss him, and you had since the very first time you laid eyes on him. He seemed like he wanted it too, yet the both of you remained frozen in place, neither one of you having enough courage to move first. “So, you have any ideas for what we can do today?” He changed the topic, too nervous to continue staring.

“Depends on what kind of day you want to have.” You said, only mildly disappointed at the change of subject. You knew that kissing him right now in that moment was not the wisest idea, especially with his best friend observing the both of you so closely. Plus, you feared that if you leaned forward and captured him in a kiss, you would only be doing so in hopes of covering up all of the misery from the morning. If you were to kiss him, you wanted to be certain it was for the right reason. “There’s a park not too far from here. It’s a super nice spot, not too many people go. I’m sure Rosie would love it.” You said, motioning to the dog that was clinging to Sam’s side. “Or there’s a few shops a few streets over. I think they’re all pet friendly. I see lots of people in an out of there with loads of different pets.”

“We can do both if you want.” Danny offered, looking inside the vehicle momentarily to see if Sam was in agreement.

“Okay,” you nodded, taking the last drag from your cigarette and tossing the butt into a nearby puddle. The snow was long gone now, replaced with rain as dampness lingered on the ground to remind you of the winter. You were excited for warmer weather, and the sun in the sky seemed to be promising of a nice day.

“Hop in, Utah.” Danny nodded his head towards his car, but quickly second guessed his choice. He took a step in your direction, but walked past you and to the other side of the car, opening the passenger door for you. You followed after him, sheepishly climbing into the vehicle after muttering a small thanks. Within seconds, he was back in the drivers side, smiling over at you. “You just tell me where to go and I’ll drive.” As he spoke, Rose seemed to be fighting with Sam to try and get to the front seat, intrigued at your presence and excited to get to know you.

You sat the bag of candy down beside your leg on the seat, then placed the energy drink in the empty cup holder. You slid your lighter in your pocket and shifted around to get a better look at the dog that seemed so eager to greet you. “Hi, baby.” You reached out cautiously, not wanting to scare her. She sniffed your hands for a moment, which quickly turned to licking, then she shoved her head into your hands so you would pet her. As you scratched behind her ear, Sam seemed to be laughing at the two of you.

“She likes you… We’re gonna have to keep you around.” Sam deducted, his hand still resting on her back. You noticed he was holding the back of her harness, ensuring she wouldn’t proceed any further than she already had.

“I guess so.” You chuckled.

“Is that… breakfast?” Danny asked, stifling a laugh as he looked down at the bag of candy and the beverage you had purchased. He’d been trying to hold the question back, but it seemed too pressing to ignore. You looked down at the items he was referring to, feeling a small blush dust across your cheeks.

“So what if it is?” You shot back, trying to keep your tone light despite feeling defensive over the fact. He let out a chuckle, shaking his head at you for a moment. You reached down, tearing the bag open and grabbing one of the candies. You extended your arm towards him with a stupid smile on your lips. “Want one?” He watched you for a moment, trying to figure out if you were being serious. His gaze flickered to your hand and eventually, he reached out to grab it.

“Do you want something to eat? You know, other than caffeine and cigarettes?” He offered, a smirk stuck on his lips.

“No,” you shook your head, reaching into one of your large coat pockets. You pulled out one of the wrapped muffins, flashing him a smile. “That’s what this is for.”

“You really came prepared, then. I can appreciate that.” He laughed, not sure if he was willing to accept you having only a muffin for breakfast. Then again, he didn’t necessarily feel like it was his place to say anything, even if he wished he could.

“Yeah, you can say that.” You chuckled. “If you cut through the parking lot and go down that little side street,” you paused, pointing in the direction of the street that was just barely visible. “And you drive down the road for a while, there’s this cute little antique shop that I think is pretty cool.” You explained, sitting back in the comfortable seat. It was way better than the leather seats in Vincent’s old car, but you neglected that thought. You shouldn’t have been thinking about Vincent at all. Instead, your focus should be on the boy sitting across from you, the very one you stayed up until sunrise writing about in your journal. The same one you had been texting until you were too tired to respond, and the one who infiltrated your dreams and put a smile on your face even during sleep.

You did not know Danny very well, but you knew him well enough to know that since meeting him, the world seemed a little bit brighter. The rain was less dreary and not even the bitter wind could bring you down. You were excited to wake up, happy even to foot the phone bill that was usually paid with a twenty dollar bill, because the new price meant that Danny had not grown tired of talking to you. You wrote in your journal until your fingers felt like they would fall off, and you had a growing collection of notes scribbled on scrap paper left on the dirty tables at the Fox. He gave you something to look forward to, and he gave you something to smile about. When you finished talking to him, you were not plagued with guilt or worry like you often were when you spoke with Vincent. You did not know Danny well, but you wanted to, and you were determined to. You made a pact with yourself to know him as well as you could by the end of the day, because you never wanted to stop learning about him.

And Sam now, too. You could not forget about him and his big personality sitting behind you just out of sight.

“To the cute little antique shop, then.” Danny said, smiling as he reversed out of the parking space and drove in the direction you told him to. “So what makes this place so special?”

“What?” You chuckled, looking over at him.

“It’s gotta mean something to you if it’s the first place you thought of.”

‘Damn him and his observant self.’

“Yeah, I guess.” You nodded. “I go there a lot. Was one of the first places I found after I moved here. I bought a journal there my first day in the city, and I used it until there was no way I could fit anything else in it.” You explained. “They have lots of old paintings and household stuff, and a huge collection of records and books. They get most of their stuff from estate sales and the rest of it from people who were sick of looking at it.”

“Do you collect records or books?” He asked, curious about your hobbies other than writing.

“No,” you shook your head. “I have some books, but I write a lot more than I read, so I don’t really see a need to buy more than I’ll ever need. I love the records, and I would buy them if I had a record player. Been trying to save up for one, but it never seems to work out.” You smiled, looking over at him. It did not break your heart that you didn’t have a record player, mostly because it was a luxury, and you were used to never having anything luxurious. You were thankful for the roof over your head and food to eat, and unless those were taken away, complaining wasn’t something you were fond of.

“What records would you buy if you had a player?” Sam asked, piping in from the backseat. You took a moment to think about it, but eventually settled on the first ones that came to mind.

“Bringing It All Back Home by Bob Dylan,” you said, confident in your answer. “I remember my grandfather playing over and over again until my grandmother was so fed up she turned it off herself.” You chuckled. “Harvest by Neil Young, too. He was a big fan of that one.”

“Good choices.” Sam commented, surprised by your answer.

“Can’t Buy a Thrill!” You exploded, unsure how you could forget such a monumental album.

“Steely Dan?” Danny looked over at you from the drivers seat, intrigued by your enthusiasm. There was a smile still lingering on his lips as you looked over at him, the sight nearly taking your breath away.

“The first time I heard ‘Dirty Work’, it changed my whole life. My brothers got so sick of it that they would pay me to turn it off. They’re not the brightest though, cause I made at least a hundred bucks off of them.” Both boys got a good chuckle out of the thought.

“Noted,” Danny said, switching between watching you and the road. “How many brothers do you have?”

“Two,” you replied. “Both older. Patrick is 26 now, and he works for some fancy tech company back home. Hunter is 25 and works at a construction company.”

“Are you close with them?” He continued to ask questions in hopes that he could know you better than anyone else. Knowing you was his top priority, much like how you wanted to know him.

“Not as much since I moved away from home, but yeah. Even when we were kids, we did everything together.” You explained, not wanting to dive too deep into it. You were close not by choice, but out of necessity. Your family was so fundamentally fucked up that relying on your siblings was the only way to survive. “You said you had a sister, right? You mentioned her the other night when we were talking.” He nodded at your words, happy that you remembered the small detail. Little did he know, you clung to every word that left his mouth. “Just her, or do you have more siblings?”

“Just her, but Sam is close enough.”

“Do you have siblings, Sam?”

“Three of ‘em.” He chuckled.

“So you were never bored growing up, I take it.”

“Never.” He confirmed, giving you a smile from the backseat.

“The store’s just up here on the left,” you told Danny, glancing over at him. You couldn’t help but admire him for a moment, finding that the sun was shining on him in the most perfect way. It illuminated his already glowing cheeks, shadowed by the curls of his hair hanging over his shoulders. The sunglasses sat atop his nose, but with the sun shining on the dark lenses, you could see him looking over at you, too.

Danny pulled into an available parking space that you pointed out, looking around the streets as people walked by. Many had leashed dogs and coffee cups in their hands. The scarves wrapped around their necks made it seem like it was colder than it was, and so did the expensive coats. You always felt slightly out of place when you visited the shops. They were decorated with people screaming with wealth. Leather handbags and clothing that had never experienced a tear or a stain. You knew you were from the poor part of town, your apartment complex falling apart and homeless people littering the sidewalks and alleyways by your home. The corner stores and bars were in just as bad shape as the Fox, and the skyscrapers stopped tickling the skyline about a mile out from the section of the city you called home.

You didn’t mind it, but you did fear that the other two would if you brought them by your place. You were always conscious of what others thought, even if you knew you shouldn’t care. It was much easier said than done, and even if you believed you weren’t doing that bad, you were doing quite poorly in comparison to the majority of the population. The discounted rate on rent from subsidized housing was the only reason you could afford your shitty apartment, and even if you had made it into a home, it was far from flashy. The entire building looked like it would give way under a strong wind, and the inside was only slightly better. You covered most of the holes and peeling paint with art, but it only went so far. The appliances were older than you, and the landlord had aesthetically fixed all of the major issues, but it did not help the structural integrity.

You always felt out of place when you were in a store, no matter fancy or not. You feared your card would decline every time, and you wondered if the few items in your refrigerator and cupboards would last you until next payday if you purchased anything extra. Most people tried not to pass judgement when they realized your economic status, but you could see it in their eyes. It was pity more than anything else, but you would be lying if you said it did not bother you. It killed you to think that Danny would look inwards at your life and feel the same things, but you knew it was a possibility. Unfortunately, as much as you wished it wasn’t, not only was it always a possibility, but a reality.

“You ready?” Danny asked, breaking your focus from your internal brooding.

“Yeah, f’course.” You nodded, pushing a smile on your lips. You got out first, stepping on the sidewalk and turning to face the vehicle as you waited for the other two to join you. Danny stepped out first while Sam made sure Rose was leashed properly. Not long after, the other two were walking happily to accompany you. You looked at the door, smiling as you saw the little sticker with the silhouette of a dog encased in a big green circle. “See, Rosie?” You grinned, looking down at her. At the sound of her name, her tail began to wag as her tongue hung happily out of the side of her mouth. “Told you they’d let you in.”

With that, Danny stepped towards the door, letting his hand fall on the small of your back. The gentle touch was barely noticeable, yet it turned your whole world upside down. Your stomach erupted into butterflies and your heart sped, and you began to question your own sanity. A man had never before made you feel so strongly from such a small action, especially an innocent one. You all stepped inside, taken by the scent of old books and oil paint. The store smelled the same every time, and when you got closer to the register, you could notice essential oils and brewed coffee. It was a comforting feeling when you stepped inside, familiar as if you had lived a thousand lives inside that store alone.

“I’m gonna check out the paintings.” Sam said, his eyes immediately catching on the fancy frames and landscapes encased inside.

“Sam’s a bit of an art whore.” Danny mumbled, turning his head down to look at you. He was standing closer than usual, definitely closer than he would at the dinner, but you certainly weren’t complaining.

“Aren’t we all?” You challenged, wishing he would move closer.

“True,” he nodded. “If you don’t like art, you’ve gotta be a pretty disappointing person.” You let out a laugh, abrupt and loud at the harsh words coming from such a sweet mouth.

“Right.” You nodded, wondering if it was possible to live in the moment forever. It was so simple with his hand on your back and a laugh stuck between your teeth. The world didn’t seem so terrible, and unlike how life normally felt, the small world the two of you were existing within seemed right. There was no fear of the unknown, no guilt or shame, and it didn’t feel forced. You felt like you’d spent 23 years of your life faking it, but with him, the connection felt real and not based on any external factors. It was simple attraction and nothing further than the fact that the two of you got along well. “Come with me,” you whispered, nodding your head in the direction of your favourite room in the entire shop.

The building was quite similar to that of a townhouse, and if you had to guess, you imagined it once was. They allocated the different rooms for each genre of items they sold. There was a record room, a room for books, home decor, and clothes that looked to be made decades ago. The main area had the register and was plastered with paintings and posters all waiting for someone to take them home, and miscellaneous items were displayed on tables within various rooms. Most of the things inside the store were much too expensive for you to even imagine buying, but every now and again you stumbled across a tiny treasure that you could afford to bring home with you. Sometimes, they heavily discounted things when they were getting ready to bring in new items, so you knew to keep your eye out for any advertising signs.

When you passed through the doorway, Danny was still close behind. He took a few moments to look around the room, taking it all in. After a while of shared silence, he let out a long exhale. “Wow.” He stated, unwilling to leave your side despite being eager to look around.

“It’s great, right?” You chuckled, taking in the shelves full of vinyl records. “I knew a music guy like you would have to appreciate it.”

“Music guy…” he trailed off, looking down at you for a moment. “You remembered?”

“Obviously.” You gave him a soft smile. “Drums, guitar, little bit of mandolin if I remember correctly.”

“You do,” he breathed, a bit surprised at how well you remembered his late night rambling.

“F’course I do.” You reiterated your point, cementing the notion in his brain. Instead of dwelling, you guided him towards the shelves holding the baskets of records. Absentmindedly, you began flipping through the vinyls, hoping he would, too. When he finally took your lead and began his own search, you spoke again. “M’sorry again about earlier. I hope you didn’t think I was trying to ditch you.”

“I actually didn’t think that at all.” He chuckled, taking his time as he read over the name of every album. “I mean, maybe for like a minute, but I honestly thought you slept in a bit longer than usual. I didn’t want to call you—was worried I would wake you.” He pulled one sleeve out above the rest, taking an interest for a moment before putting it back. “You seemed really tired when we were talking on the phone last night.” You froze as his words hit you, suddenly remembering the sleep-laced conversation and nervous butterflies that plagued your entire body. You remembered mumbling sentiments while your wrist wrote out the deepest desires of your heart on paper. Then, you remembered falling asleep, but not a goodbye.

“Did I… did I fall asleep on the phone?” You asked, looking over at him. Redness began to creep up on your cheeks as you waited for an answer.

“Yeah,” he nodded, saying it as if the instance was completely normal. “Thought it was cute.” You bit down on the inside of your lip, praying that your face wasn’t giving away your feelings yet knowing it was. Then, the strangeness of the situation hit you and you could not hold back your inquiries.

“Speaking of… what the hell were you doing up at six in the morning?” You asked, turning the tables on him. He glanced over at you without turning his head, suspicious without even speaking. “Actually, you seem to be awake every morning when I get off work.” It was a question that crossed your mind more often than not, yet you never seemed to care to ask.

“Early riser.” He shrugged, hoping to avoid the topic entirely.

“Right…” you trailed off, less focused on the crumbling vinyl sleeves and more focused on the crimson of his cheeks. “See, that would be believable, but considering you were at the diner at one in the morning last night, I don’t think that’s the case.” You pressed further. “No way you’re so cheery for a man who only got four hours of sleep.”

“Okay, you caught me.” He sighed, pretending to be upset about your discovery. Truth was, he knew he would have to fess up sooner or later, and sooner seemed to be his only option. “I usually wake up for a little while to talk to you when you get home, and then I go back to sleep when you do.”

You were stunned at the thought, mostly because you could not comprehend someone wanting to talk to you so badly. The effort and thought that went into setting an alarm every morning at six was far beyond anything anyone else had ever done for you. You wanted to chastise him, but it was a bit too touching for you to make a joke out of it.

“You don’t have to do that, Danny.” You whispered, hoping he would look over at you so you could catch sight of the beautiful brown eyes you’d grown to love so much. “I love talking to you, but not if you’re losing sleep over it.”

“It’s not like I have anything else to do.” He dismissed you. “Besides, I want to. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t.”

For some strange reason, you wished he answered differently. Not because you wanted him to care less, but because you were terrified of him caring at all.

Everything you touched always seemed to turn to dust, and Danny was someone you could not fathom inflicting that fate upon.

“Unless you don’t want me to?” He said, taking your silence as something bad.

“No,” you shook your head. “No… I mean if you want to—if you’re okay with doing it, I definitely don’t mind.”

“Then it’s settled,” he hummed, switching to a different bin to search through. “They have some good stuff here.” He said, pulling out a blue coloured album. You glanced over, recognizing the sight immediately. A smile crossed your face as you watched him.

“Joni Mitchell.” You stated, craning your neck to get a better look.

“You know this album?” He asked, looking back at you over his shoulder.

“Yeah,” you scoffed, stepping towards him. “My grandpa might have liked Dylan, but my grandma loved Joni Mitchell.” You were right behind him now, close enough that you could have placed a hand on him had you been courageous enough.

“You talk about your grandparents a lot.” He noted. “You close with them?” He could hear your breath hitch in your throat as he finished speaking, wondering if maybe he never should have spoken at all. After a moment, you recovered enough to answer.

“I was, yeah.” You cleared your throat, covering up the strain of the words. “I spent most of my time there, actually. My grandma was my best friend, and my grandpa was a close second. He passed away when I was fifteen, and she passed away not long before I moved here. If they were still around, i probably never would have moved at all.” He turned towards you, letting the record slide back to its original place. His hand landed delicately on your hip, but in no way did it appear romantic. Even if your face was stony, he could see the pain plaguing your eyes.

“I’m sorry, Utah. I didn’t mean to bring that up for you.”

“It’s not your fault,” you shook your head. “I love talking about them, and I’m glad you asked.” You assured him. A small smile crossed his lips, stunned by your resilience to pain.

“I’d love to hear more about them, if you ever feel like talking.” His hand on your hip still remained, and the longer he touched you, the more comfortable it became. You never wanted him to stop. Suddenly, it all became a little too real for you. You blinked twice, bringing yourself back to reality as you turned back towards the record bins.

You wanted it, but you did not know how to let it happen. You were so good at making bad decisions that it seemed inherently bad to choose the right thing.

“Yeah, maybe.” You nodded, knowing that you never would. Then again, never is a strong word, and for some strange reason you had the impression that Danny was someone you could trust. Maybe someday, ‘never’ would turn out to be a distant memory.

You stepped towards another shelf, your eye catching a familiar cover. Carefully, you reached out, sliding it from the stack of records to get a better look. “Oh, wow.” You breathed, buzzing with excitement and nearly forgetting about the heavy conversation seconds before. “Look at this.” You said, catching Danny’s attention without breaking your stare from the vinyl.

He stepped up behind you, much closer than you were anticipating. Your back was nearly pressed against his chest and his hand lingered gently on your side. You knew he could see perfectly over your head; the height difference made it seem like he towered over you. He did so as an excuse to be close to you, and no other reason. You were okay with it, because for the few seconds you had stepped away from him, you’d already grown to miss the feeling.

“Bella Donna,” he said, studying the familiar sight. “Stevie Nicks fan?”

“Who isn’t?” You chuckled, turning it over to check the back of it. All of the records were secondhand, but it made them all the more special. Not only did they come with fantastic tracklists, but a story within every fraying edge and fading color. “She’s fantastic. She’s… everything.” Danny was silent for a moment, taking in your statement. When he finally answered, he wasn’t looking at the album, but rather at you.

“Yeah, she is.” The conviction in his tone made you pause your previous train of thought, turning to look at him as he gazed down upon you. It was evident that Stevie Nicks has long fled his train of thought. You didn’t have the courage to call him on it, so instead, you enjoyed the fleeting feeling of finally being important to someone. It was something you hadn’t felt in a long time, and even when you could remember a time when you did, it felt nothing like it did then. You were overwhelmed with the urge to kiss him, unable to comprehend how he seemed so perfect. Every word that left his mouth drew you in, every smile melted your heart, and every touch (albeit few and far between) took your breath away.

You were waiting for something to show, or to peek through the perfect exterior he’d put on for you. You longed for something to appear that could demolish the pedestal you had placed him upon, but it never seemed to come. You knew that with time, you were bound to find something that would taint your view of him, whether it be something major or a plethora of tiny things that steadily creeped up on you. Nobody could be without fault, and the fact that he’d gone so long without showing you any bad traits made you worry that when he did, it would be worse than anything you ever imagined.

Maybe that was your problem; you could not bear the thought of something going well for you, so you self-sabotaged by actively looking for something that would force you to run away.

Most of the time, there was nothing to find, and you were running from a monster created by your very own mind.

When you thought about it for too long, the more it seemed like running was the only thing you had ever known how to do.

You could not wrap your head around the idea of wanting to stay, but as Danny looked down at you with emotion stronger than lust in his eyes, you knew there was nothing else you would rather do. You wondered if running was always your first choice because nobody ever cared enough to give you a reason to stay. You’d known Danny for a short time, so short that he was nearly a stranger. You didn’t know his middle name, or his birthday, or even his favourite color. Despite that, you knew that the feeling of his company was something you’d searched for your entire life, and up until now, you’d only ever found it in one other thing. The difference was, you were confident in saying that the aftermath of Danny’s company was nothing like the aftermath of a good high. He seemed fulfilling, like his aura would surround you long after he left and the feeling in your heart would last even if he was not within reach.

If you weren’t so stubborn, you would have noticed that it had already affected you in such ways. When you stretched your wrist, it ached from all of the writing you had been doing in the early hours of the morning. When you woke that very morning with urges stronger than ever before, your first thought was to go to a meeting rather than submitting to the temptations of substance. You weren’t dreading waking up, nor were you struggling to sleep.

Danny did not fix your life for you, but he did make it easier to cope with. He could not fix problems he did not know existed, nor could he do so even if he knew your troubles. Instead, he allowed you to see a brighter side of life than what you’d grown so comfortable with. He helped you feel excitement for the next day and the possibilities it held. He gave you a person to talk to, making your nights much less lonely. He gave you the feeling of being wanted, and for nothing greater than the feeling of mutual want itself. He didn’t want to see you for ulterior motives, and he did not want anything more out of the interaction. He simply enjoyed your company, and it made you feel more human than you had since you were a child.

You’d been standing for so long in the same position that you feared you’d both turn to stone with your faces hovering inches apart. You did not want to suffer an eternity waiting to kiss, only for the moment to never come, but in that moment it appeared to be your destiny. He was leaned down slightly, and you were straining upwards, but there seemed to be a barrier between you two. The world was begging you to harness the courage to lean forward and close the gap, and as your noses brushed together, even the still-photograph of Stevie was pleading with you not to let cowardice win. Your heart was pounding in your ears, and your stomach was twisted in a knot that seemed to be suffocating you the longer you sat there.

He was so close, the scent of his cologne surrounding you once again, this time much more powerful than the last. You were angry that he wouldn’t make the move first, but appreciated his concern for your comfort. You’d fallen into the position so easily, as if it were natural for the two of you to be together in such a way. You could practically feel his lips on yours despite the distance still existing between you. Perhaps it was so easy to imagine because you wanted it so badly. He reached up, tucking your hair behind your ear before he cupped your cheek in his hand. The touch made your lungs burn, inherently causing you to forget how to breathe.

You had never felt so good. You had never felt so alive. You wondered, if his company felt so rewarding even after such a short period of time, what would months feel like with your heart and soul entangled in his. For once, the unknown was exciting rather than paralyzing. As gravity pulled you closer, you began to believe that you could live in the unknown with Danny until the end of time, and it would be inexplicably better than existing within the known without him by your side. He was so close, and it was hard not to jump. You wanted everything all at once, but savoring him seemed like the only option. His lips were nearly brushing against your own, and despite your earlier efforts at shoving the feelings away, you needed him to close the gap between you. You needed it like water, but you were so parched that you couldn’t speak the words nor go in search of it yourself.

You knew how foolish it was to leave your fate in the hands of another, but for once, not even your own psyche seemed to be able to ruin the moment for you.

part two is soon to be yours 🤍

TAGLIST: @imleavingyoufornewyork @itsafullmoon @bladenotblaze @jessicafg03 @dont-go-home-without-me @peaceloveunitygvf @torniturntomyarrow @lostoverseer @clairesjointshurt @jordie-gvf @lallisonl @smoking-jakelane @gretavangirlie @hollyco

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uglly-rodent · 11 months

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Guardians of the Galaxy headcannons

Here are my some of my headcannons (except they're mostly rocket lol). I might draw some of them in the future

The guardians are all a fan of boba tea. Its all their favorite drink

Rocket sleeps the best when he's squished or cuddled up with people because it reminds him of when he used to cuddle up with floor

When no one is looking, rocket has the habit of sometimes washing his food before eating. Quill filmed it once

Drax has warm hands and nebula has cold hands

Rocket doesn't like bathing so after a while of not bathing, they all pin him down and force bathe him like a cat but they all end up getting bites and scratches.

The guardians are a "bad influence" on mantis because of them, she learned swear words and got anger issues.

Rocket still does fatherly things to groot even when hes grown.

Nebula's fav guardians member is rocket because of all the time they spent together in the blip. They are very close.

After rocket almost died after quill got drunk. He never ever touched alcohol again.

After Rocket pointed out in vol1 that Gamora called him a rodent and how it affected him, she never even dared to call him something other than rocket, out of guilt. (she even corrects nebula in vol2 when she calls him a fox)

Rocket only tells Groot1 about his past. He used to tell baby groot too but in the form of bedtime stories that he doesn't remember anymore

Rocket has survivors guilt from when lyla, teefs and floor died. Then it just got worst when the guardians blipped.

If they ever rode a rollercoaster, drax would love it, peter would have fun, nebula would be fine with it, mantis would be very nervous, groot would feel uneasy after and a little sick and rocket would be terrified and literally shaking in his boots like a cat lol

Okay that's all

EDIT: I FORGOT TO ADD THESE

Rocket is a teeny bit dyslexic. He has a hard time telling apart right from left and confuses a lot of spelling.

Rocket is a jack of all trades and multitalented. He can do literally anything. His handwriting is unintelligible tho. Absoluteley atrocious. Its like its own language. Harder to understand than Groot. Only the guardians can read it.

#guardians of the galaxy #gotg #gotg imagine #gotg headcanons

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aliceindaisychains999 · 1 year

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Ultimis’ Favorite Things! (What Makes Them Happy)

Tank Dempsey

A big chunk is revealed in his World at War bio. “Hand him a loaded weapon, a good woman, and something it shoot at and he’s happy.” Dempsey appreciates the simpler things in life. Anything that includes ass-kicking and a lovely lady by his side is enough to keep him grounded. A nice, cold beer would be nice as well!

Cats! He's a total softie about them. Tank actually owned several in his lifetime. As a kid, he had a calico cat named Sadie. She had a cat sibling named Mason, who’s fur was black and white. And then there is his orange tabby back home named Rocket. Rocket finds himself into a lot of mischief easily. Having zoomies around the house and stealing socks (and once munched on Tank’s $20 bill), he eventually calms down and Tank feels at ease having him purr on his lap.

Believe it or not, Tank does have appreciation for the great outdoors. He has a lot of fond memories about his Dad. A big majority of those memories take place camping in late summer. He finds it easier to ground himself when on a long hiking trail, birdwatching, making a campfire and canoeing. No fishing though, he will fistfight a mackerel.

Takeo Masaki

Peace and quiet. Complete solitude. He’s very introverted, perhaps to the point it’s been concerned that he’s a hikkikomori. But that won’t stop Takeo from finding a place with gentle atmosphere. A bonus if he can have a cup of tea as well, lemon ginger with a spoonful of honey to be exact.

His hobbies give his mind distraction. He enjoys tending to his small garden of flowers and a small bamboo plant. If he had to choose, he would say African daisies are his favorite flower. Takeo also loves Lily of the Valley, but knows they can be poisonous so he doesn’t have them. Other hobbies include meditation, reading, working on his memoir, keeping sharp on his combat training and his new interest in woodworking.

Takeo will light up if you have his specific type of witty humor. He isn’t always thrilled by crass comments. But there have been a few times he let it slide by for the sake of making light of a situation. The best I can describe it is that it tends to be a little snarky with some situational humor. It’s what helps him connect a bit better with Dempsey.

Edward Richtofen

I think it goes without question that he is a huge bookworm. But his taste is not what you’d expect. Aside from nonfiction involving scientific topics, he also enjoys romance novels. But he’d never confess that to anyone! One of his all time favorites is a theory written about the concept of time and quantum gravity research.

Edward has always dreamt of traveling. Technically, he is with the teleporter. But it’s not the same as having a getaway vacation like a train ride to the Swiss Alps or exploring a bustling city like New York. He recalls a few times where he tried to make a vacation out of traveling abroad for Group 935 and illuminati related purposes. And his family had visited Italy a few times in past summers as a child. Perhaps someday, he’ll be able to make this dream of his a reality.

Success, of course! Isn’t it obvious? When you’ve had so many colleagues und oppressors order you around, it’s enough of a drive to finally take control in your hands and to do things YOUR way! He’s a highly ambitious doctor. There is always a plan accompanied with a goal or purpose in the long run. The smoother things go, the more gleeful he behaves. Is that why he was so happy at Camp Edward?

I’m mad because knowing him, there is definitely one way to relieve his stress that we will NOT speak of. Ach, primitive simpelton! Instead, I’ll add that he has a soft spot for jazz music and stuffed animals (both real and the teddy bear kind)

Nikolai Belinski

There’s more depth to him than just your standard vodka answer. But we’ll kick things off and say yes he does enjoy a good drink. His favorite besides vodka is Țuică. But it’s SO strong he saves it for special occasions. And he has to drink it at home because he got kicked out at one of the bars he used to go to because of it.

Believe it or not, he’s an excellent cook! He can win the hearts of many with a warm meal. Nikolai enjoys making comforting stews to pelmeni to even bread baking every now and then. It was more frequent when he was sober but he still gives it a shot every now and then. Just as long as he’s regular drunk and not super drunk. Super drunk makes everything a bit disastrous.

Nikolai loves stories. He has many good ones to tell. But he also loves hearing from others about their lives. Nikolai also enjoys card games like blackjack or war. He’s an incredibly skilled player so if he asks you to play, know you have a real challenge on your hands

#cod zombies #call of duty zombies #codz #black ops zombies #nazi zombies #ultimis crew #ultimis #edward richtofen #tank dempsey #takeo masaki #nikolai belinski #ultimis richtofen #ultimis takeo #ultimis dempsey #ultimis nikolai #writing #my wrtitng

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batb1tch · 1 year

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I fucking missed his birthday but here’s a belated list of Bruce Wayne headcanons no one asked for 🫡

He’s a walking thesaurus

Begrudgingly takes the time to do general maintenance on the kids vehicles but they know it’s how he shows fatherly love

Genuinely disgruntled/confused by social media culture & language

— “Duke, what does -squints at iPhone screen- thotiana mean?”

“……im not qualified for this”

History buff. Loves the history channel & discovery channel. gets hurt on patrol & just vegges for 8+ hrs. when the painkillers kick in he starts scrutinizing & correcting the narrators. Loudly criticizes naked & afraid. Whole fam finds him unbearable (jay is the same way tho)

Enjoys rlly spicy food. Like shit that should be inedible. Prob from years of inhaling toxic gases & fumes. as embarrassing as it may be he doesn’t have much of a palette anymore. Only way to find out if something’s poisonous is the consistency/density & how it sits on his tongue.

— “clark, dare me to eat this pepper?”

“we’re literally on a different planet that thing could kill you bruce”

“I’ll take my chances”

—turns purple or something—

Total geek on vacations or nature walks, points out every creature it’s Greek name, genus, the whole shebang. Loves fossils and seashells can tell you time period of rocks & what type they are. Same with trees.

100% would blow shit up in the bat cave for “scientific research purposes”

— “it’s for the greater good Alfred”

“even the bottle rockets sir?”

“Especially the bottle rockets”

Really fucking hates the cold. Broken bones & scars ache like a bitch in rainy/snowy cold weather.

Hates taking medicine/cough syrup like a giant baby. Alfred has resorted to hiding pills & sedatives in all kinds of creative ways. Stephanie is surprisingly good at baking them into her “special” cupcakes.

wears those horrible Hawaiian shirts and slacks every time the fam goes on vacation. Looks like a walking pattern violation.

as opposite of a morning person as you could get. drinks his coffee black & cant function until he’s finished at least a cup. The longer he sleeps the longer it takes him to recover when he gets up. Pours orange juice into his cereal & that kind of shit. Most of the kids know better & leave him alone to his morning paper but Steph knows it’s the best time to get what she wants so she’ll hassle him relentlessly at the breakfast table. Morning stubble always makes a cameo

Fucking terrible at most video games. The WORST at 1st person shooters. Does enjoy racing & building games (& Skyrim for some reason)

Really good at crossword puzzles & fills them out in the newspaper when he gets the chance.

Truly is the turtleneck king (you lose a lot of heat in the neck)

Has horrible handwriting for someone who grew up with a top tier education. Drives his secretary nuts.

Has like 5 cellphones, very plug of him. nobody understands how he manages to keep track of everything. the one he uses as bruce to contact the kids is an 02 NOKIA that’s probably been to the moon and back (literally)

Very affectionate towards Alfred the cat it’s definitely that ‘dad who vehemently denies the pet/doesn’t want it & then becomes inseparable with it’ type of relationship. He may or may not sneak him friskies much to Damian’s chagrin.

—*tsk* “he’ll become obese father its irresponsible of you”

“ill feed this cat until he has to roll through my house thanks”

Has one of those fancy watches with like 1000 functions thanks to tim. It’s bulky and black looks like some sort of military electronic.

His kids call him inspector gadget.

Wears blankets around his shoulders like the cape/cowl when he’s sick.

Most certainly keeps track of and studies the colony in the cave. The kids have a theory that he has trackers and mics attached to the bats for snooping purposes. (He doesn’t but he’s not telling them that)

Has a collection of crazy socks, ties, and cuff links (mostly from tim & steph) that he wears to work when he’s feeling worn out. They are all hideous and Alfred tells him so but just a glance at some putrid yellow cotton & he already feels better.

Enjoys going to classic car shows with the kids and Alfred. everyone has an opinion if he’s made a new purchase, he pouts if the consensus is bad

Singe-handedly funded the 24/7 food truck services/entrepreneur program for the entirety of Gotham after getting his ass kicked by killer croc one night & by the grace of god & the pity of a concerned man running a taco truck was given the best meal he’s ever tasted in his life. Jay was very on board when he heard about it & actually the entire team is pretty grateful to be able to grab something delicious on the go all hours of the night

Likes to swim and going to the beach in general. One of his favorite things to do with Clark is deep sea fishing — dad shorts baseball cap and socks with sandals kind of fishing.

Contrary to his stony persona, the mans a crier. Cries when he’s sad, cries when he’s happy, cries when he yawns, cries when he laughs, cries when he’s sick, etc. etc. Sometimes tears come out when he’s upside down, he’s just got very active tear ducts 😪

Definitely has a photo of every kid in his wallet, most of them are blurry and cropped weird cause he cut them out himself but all of them are of the kids smiling or laughing. He looks at them all the time to the point that they’re worn down and faded different colors.

Has severe manic & depressive episodes. PTSD as well.

He’s ambidextrous but primarily left handed

#Bruce Wayne #Batman #headcanon #Tim drake #Jason Todd #stephanie brown #alfred pennyworth #mine

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thespiral · 6 months

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OC INTERVIEW

got tagged by @henbased AND @krokaxe love uuuu thank u so much mwah mwah

tagging: @catboyrights @wildwildwasteland @quintsmachete @rocket-69 and anyone else who wants to join innnnnn feel free to tag me if you do <3

Fresno Cienfuegos

Nickname: Fresno, Fesno, Juno* [*but Only Sometimes] Gender: Out of universe, intersex and genderqueer* [*where do they lean gender-wise is also up in the air], in-universe, they don't like labels. Fresno is just Fresno. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ Star Sign: Libra, 10/10/2020 is when they emerged fully formed from my xbox 360 Height: 5'6 give or take half an inch. though they absolutely wear heels Orientation: yes. everything's good Nationality/Ethnicity: californian mexican-american? [gestures vaguely] There's a Lot goin on but i'd say mestize Fave Fruit: toss up between citrus-y ones like lemon/lime or orange or tangerines, mangos, or cherries Fave Season: spring... not too hot not too cold. just right. Fave Flower: sunflowers. maybe. i'm going off vibe. but reaching towards the sun and all Fave Scent: they will say leather, gasoline or iron but really they go behind sweet scents like vanilla or chocolate or sugar. Coffee, Tea, or HC: coffee, but like, the really terrible sugary sludgy starbucks drinks. they will deny this. but that is what they love. Average Hours of Sleep: anywhere from 4-5 hours to 9-10 hours. depends but they're a pretty light sleeper Dog or Cat Person: performatively hater of both but likes cats once they finally get one to be friendly to them. dogs are tolerated i think because i think loyalty and dogs would make them unwell <- guy who has problems Dream Trip: i think being able to just ride on the highway as fast and as long as they humanly could counts Favorite Fictional Character: dr. frank n furter from rocky horror Number of Blankets They Sleep With: solid 1-2. bonus if one is weighted Random Fact: they didn't have the opportunity to really do stuff like participate in christmas or halloween or stereotypical childhood stuff. thanks hellmouth

#fresno #thank uuuuuu i love u alllllll

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deepperplexity · 2 years

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Prompt: 13. Repetitive Carols

Pairing: Turpin x Wife!Reader

POV: Second, Reader

Setting: London

A/N: So, let’s leave the magic of Hogwarts behind for a bit and jump over to the biter English winter in London today. I had quite a rough time coming up with a story for this prompt, I don’t know why but I guess after so many days of coming up with new Christmas fics and having written quite a few long ones in the past few days I was a bit tapped out. However, I do think you will enjoy this one even if it’s not until the very end that things turn bright.

And, I would like to add a small note here as well… If you don’t mind…

I hope that these fics offer you something during this cold and harsh December. All around the world people are struggling - hell, I’m sitting with three layers of clothing on, thick socks, slippers, a warm wheat bag under the blanket draped over my legs as the heating is just too expensive - and I know money is tight, for many of us this year with the inflation and sky-rocketing expenses of everything.

So, I hope these fics grant you something to look forward to, something to be excited about, something that offers you a feeling of being connected with others around the world. For we are all connected. We are all in this community together and I wish I could do more, be more, offer more. But I do not have anything but my hard work, creativity and words to offer during these hard times. I’m giving every spare minute I have to RICKMAS, late nights, early mornings, lunch breaks - all of it. And, to see you here - your comments, your reblogs, your likes and the tags you add - warms my heart. It makes me so happy to know that you wish to spend your time reading my words and communicating your thoughts and feelings about it in return too.

Thank you, for warming my heart and being here with me. I am ever so grateful for this little community of ours where we share love, friendship and support. I really wish you all the best and for these hard times to pass ❤

+A/N: I know the gramophone wasn’t invented until 1877 but this is fiction so we are just moving that invention a few years for the sake of this fic - so don’t come for me about that 🙈😂

Tags/TW’s: Kissing, Anger, Guilt, Worry, Lots Of Love, Taking Responsibility.

Word Count: 2.7k+

Masterlist page // Masterlist post // AO3 // LINK TREE

You couldn’t help but feel protected and comfortable on his arm. Strolling through London could be dangerous, but not with your dear husband so close by — who would ever dare to bother you as the wife of Judge Turpin with him right there? None.

However, he appeared to have lost some of the initial warmth and joy from when you had first asked him to take a stroll through the buzzing city with market stands on each square, big or small. For nearly two hours you had been walking about with your butler, Mr Stokes, a few steps behind carrying everything your husband had graciously acquired for you. No item was too small and no price was too high when it came to spoiling you.

That had been hard to deal with at first, the guilt of suddenly being presented with all things you had ever wished for and far more than you could ever need. But he had insisted, time and time again, that you deserved it. That he wished to lavish you with gifts and that it brought him joy to provide for you in every manner possible.

However, something was bothering him no. You could feel the annoyance radiate from him in a manner you had not previously experienced. “Angel, perhaps something hot to drink?” you asked, wondering if it could perhaps lighten his mood with something warming. “If you wish,” he said in a dark murmur. “Are you fairing?” you asked quietly and he glanced down at you, raising a brow towards the rim of his black tophat. “You seem, out of sorts, perhaps we should return home?” You continued in less than a heartbeat. “When you are ready to return, we will do so.” “But I—” “Love, I am well aware you adore this time of year, so when you are ready, we shall return.”

You tilted your head and looked at him, nodding after a moment while he smiled in a restrained way — as he usually did when you were out and about where others were present. I still feel as if something is not right with you. Perhaps I should say I’m tired?

The sound of a children's choir reached you that moment when you turned onto a bigger street leading to the main square. Oh, such a lovely sound, you thought to yourself and smiled as the sound grew louder while you walked on. The smell of hot chocolate was in the air, people calling out prices and haggling being done by each stand you passed until you reached the giant tree where a small platform had been placed for the choir to stand on.

“Isn’t it lovely?” you said in a manner that was a question yet also a statement. “Mmh,” Richard murmured in a slight drawl while you both stopped to listen to the children sing. “Mr Stokes, if you please, a pound for them,” you said and your ever-jolly butler scurried forward to place the coin in the bin collecting money for one of the orphanages in London.

You smiled at the children while Richard seemed to stiffen beside you, becoming further annoyed it seemed. You glanced up at your most beloved grump of a husband who wielded far more power in the city than you could truly understand. His jaw was clenched tight, his eyes cold and harsh while his pale skin held a slight hint of pink from the biting English winter. Something was most certainly wrong. He never acted in such a manner when you were on his arm unless someone said or did something he took offence at.

“Darling, are you sure you’re—” “Love, stop,” he gritted without looking at you. It stunned you for a moment as he never spoke in such a manner to you. He never withheld his attention from you either.

You felt your shoulders droop as you looked away from him, unable to hide the slight hurt marring your facial features while you looked at the singing children. “I’m tired, Richard,” you said quietly. “Can we return home, please?” “As you wish,” he said in yet another grumpy drawl and wasted no time turning the two of you around to march towards your home not too far away from the square with its prime location. Mr Stokes were hot on your heels, balancing the packages and basket he had been clever enough to bring for smaller items, most likely Mrs Marsh’s idea. She’s such a good housekeeper, and certainly thinks ahead each and every time. I wonder if she’s had time to bake those Christmas cookies she spoke of this morning?

The thought of those sweet treats made you smile for a moment as the two of you turned the corner and your home became visible. Richard was still stiff and cold beside you thought so that smile quickly vanished while your hand tensed around his arm.

Mr Stokes opened the door for the two of you and stepped aside. The house was beautifully decorated, thanks to you and the staff, and it felt wonderful to be back in the warmth. Only, you still felt cold when your husband behaved so strangely with you. He had never behaved in such a manner before.

“I shall be in my office,” he announced while rather quickly switching his boots and taking off his outer layers before you had barely had time to unbutton your winter cloaks two buttons at your upper chest. “Would you like some—” “No.”

You blanched at his interruption, stunned at the harsh tone of his voice. He stalked off before you even had a chance to ask what was wrong. “Are you alright, my Lady?” Mr Stokes asked which brought you out of the stunned state. “I don’t understand what’s gotten into him,” you confessed while removing your outer layers and switching your shoes for a more comfortable pair of slippers lined with fur to keep the chill of the floors away from your feet.

“Ah, my Lady,” Mrs Marsh said as she came from the hallway leading to the kitchen, “you have returned. And at just the right time,” she continued with a broad smile making her wrinkly face look happy. “Oh? Time for what?” you asked, feeling a bit warmer under her smile. “The first batch has just come out of the oven, piping hot, as you like them, my Lady,” she said with a twinkle in her eyes and you beamed at her. “Well, what are we waiting for? Lead the way!”

You groaned and hummed at the delicious treat as you bit off the head of a reindeer-shaped one. “So good, you are a fabulous baker, Elenora!” you called out to the housekeeper. It wasn’t quite proper to call the staff by their given names, and you had agreed to only do so in the house when no guests were present. “Thank you, my Lady,” she smiled as she pulled out the second batch from the wood-heated oven. “Can we turn on some music?” you asked the butler who beamed at you and instantly turned to start the gramophone already loaded with a disc of Christmas music.

The very same song you had heard all over town during the stroll played, filling the house with music while the smell of Christmas cookies wafted through the air. You had nearly forgotten about your husband's bad mood while you danced around the kitchen to a sweet carol when thumping, rushed steps grew louder.

“TURN THAT INFERNAL RACKET OFF!” Richard shouted in fury from the doorway. His dark baritone voice cut through the air like thunder overhead, making the air vibrate and your body stiffen. His cold eyes glared at the gramophone before he stalked over in long strides and yanked the disc out of it, throwing it on the floor.

Your breathing turned ragged as you backed away from the man you didn’t recognise. Never had he raised his voice in your presence. Never had he glared at you with such anger. Never had he acted with such fury in the proximity of you.

The joy seeped out of you instantly, the warmth in the previously happy kitchen stolen in a mere second. Mr Stokes and Mrs Marsh back to the stoic staff members you had met when you first came to London nearly a year ago. Their heads bowed, their bodies stiff under Richard’s glare for those three seconds he stood in the kitchen.

Your bum hit the back of the long table for preparations, your chest felt tight and for the first time a sliver of fear shot through you because of him. He looked so, enraged. Dangerous. And then he turned on his heel and rushed out of the kitchen with gritted teeth and clenched fists. “What in the world,” you asked the universe as you looked after the man you had never thought capable of looking at you with such fury in his eyes.

Your hands shook as you looked towards the disc on the floor, having skidded along the stone it was most likely ruined. Tears began to rim your eyes. “Now, my Lady, you’re alright,” Mrs Marsh said quietly as she stepped around the table while you tried to speak — opening and closing your mouth without a single noise leaving you. “You’re alright,” she said once more as she took one of your trembling hands in her warm and slender one, the other she stroked your back soothingly as your breaths turned into short pants the moment tears began to roll down your cheeks.

You looked at her. “He’s never-, he’s never-,” you began to say but your weak voice never turned into a sentence. “I know, it’s alright,” she said gently. “His Lordship struggles with Christmas. It is not your fault, my Lady,” she comforted but it didn’t feel right. He had been happy when you decorated the house, he’d been happy when you put up the tree, he’d been happy when you presented him with the stocking you had ordered for the fireplace with your name and his stitched on them.

“Now, let’s get you a warm bath, my Lady. You are shivering.” You nodded at her words, knowing full well both of you knew better. You weren’t shivering. You were trembling. Yet you allowed her to lead you to the bathroom two floors up. Allowed her to sit you down on the chair in the room while she filled the tub with steaming water. Allowed her to help undress you and assist you as you stepped into the water a moment later. All while your mind ran rampant, wondering what had happened to your husband and the happy mood he had been in for the past couple of days when Christmas had been all around him.

“I shall start supper, I’ll return in a moment to help you get dressed, my Lady.” “Thank you,” you whispered as you sank down further into the warm water, allowing it to reach your chin and cover you completely with warmth. It helped very little though.

After a while, you began to hum on one of the carols you’d heard over and over during the day, one of your favourites. The bath soothed you slowly but your heart hurt at the way your husband had acted, at how he had frightened you for the first time ever.

A knock came from the door and you stopped humming. “You can just come in, Elenora!” you called, but as it opened it wasn’t her. Richard stood in the doorway, his shoulders slumped and the harshness gone from his face. “Richard,” you said as he stepped inside the humid room and closed the door behind him. He looked at a loss. Much unlike your commanding and decisive husband, the man you loved so dearly despite all his faults and flaws.

“Love, I…” His words died out quietly while he avoided looking straight at you. It hurt seeing him look so lost, so uncertain. But the furious manner he had acted in a while ago still lingered in your head.

He took a deep breath and stepped forward until he sank down on one knee by the edge of the tub. “Love, I am sorry. I did not mean to behave in such a manner,” he confessed quietly, his baritone voice barely above a murmur while he kept avoiding your gaze, as if he felt ashamed of himself. “You frightened me,” you said. “Why did you act in such a way? You’ve never-, with me you have never behaved like that,” you continued and he sighed deeply. “I apologize,” he pushed out, worry evident in his dark voice. “Tell me why instead,” you prompted while reaching your soaked arm out only to grasp his hand with yours despite the water dripping from your skin.

He squeezed your hand before lifting it to his thin lips, placing the softest of kisses edged by some harsh resolve. “The carols,” he said and looked up at you, finding your eyes for the first time. “The carols?” “Yes,” he murmured, “the damned, repetitive carols.” “You don’t like music? But you play so beautifully, Richard.” “No, love, it’s not music. Merely, carols,” he gritted while looking down at your hand in his. “You don’t like carols?” “Every year, over and over, the same carols. The same tunes, the same words, the same notions of joy to the wretched world we inhabit. Over and over. Every damned year.”

It made sense. Your husband wasn’t fond of traditions, he wasn’t fond of repeating things or having to repeat himself beyond his daily breakfast habits or listening to anyone communicating something he had heard before. He abhorred words spoken more than once when they did not offer new meaning or a truth of some sort. Partly due to your occupation I presume. And he certainly wasn't fond of the world, which he'd confessed to being a gloomy and dreary place before he met you. Meaning every Christmas the world sang about joy he had been deep into the darkest depths of it.

“I didn’t know, angel,” you said, trying your hardest to see it from his perspective when you yourself loved the comfort and security of repetitive things, traditions, habits and words spoken over and over in reassurance. In love with Christmas and the warmth it had always offered you when the world turned kinder.

“I won’t play carols at home again. I’m sorry, Richard. I truly didn’t know,” you said gently and he looked at you once more, his features softer and less creased as his worry melted away under your words. “You are blameless, love,” he said. “I should not have allowed myself to get to that point. You asked me if I was fairing and I avoided admitting the truth, and then you took some of the annoyance, the anger I had pent up. I am the only one to blame, not you. And I truly am so sorry, love.” You smiled at him, vowing to keep your home a carol-free place in the future for his sake.

“Thank you for being honest with me, Richard. For taking responsibility for your emotions and actions,” you said and leaned towards him. He met you halfway, your lips touching and instantly your heart fluttered. “You are the most wondrous woman, my love. I am most sorry, and I love you most dearly. Your patience with me—” he sighed deeply and pecked your lips once more “—is beyond what I deserve.” “Oh, Richard, you deserve all the patience when you work so hard to be open with me. I know you struggle with it, I know it’s hard for you. But one repetitive thing you can always count on is my love for you,” you said with a small giggle at his half-smile that softened everything about him. “That is something I do not mind being repetitive, as I do not mind hearing you speak the words over and over, every day, my sweet.”

“I love you,” you said, just to tease him. He chuckled and looked at you with wonder in his eyes. “I love you as well.” “And no more carols in this house,” you laughed out as you tugged on his hand to get him even closer, your noses touching. “Except when you sing them, love… Anything spoken in your voice is beautiful music to my ears.” “Richard…” you breathed out, tears in your eyes at his lovely words spoken with ringing truth.

Then, he kissed you. He drew you in without caring about his clothes getting wet while he held you tightly with only the rim of the tub as a barrier between the two of you.

Masterlist page // Masterlist post // AO3 // LINK TREE

A/N: I hope this tugged on your heartstrings a bit darling 💚 Sometimes people own up to their mistakes, their wrongs, and I find it beautiful to have the courage and strength to do so. And, when it happens, I find it just as beautiful when the wronged offer forgiveness and understanding when the regret is honest. Forgiveness takes strength - both to ask for it and gift it - but I find more often than not that when it is done genuinely, things tend to sort themselves out one way or another.

Taglist: @lizlil @snapefiction @darkthought15 @monstreviolet @flowerdementia @marvelschriss @once-upon-an-imagine @ravennight41 @caseydoodles98 @slytherinprincess03 @theconsultingdetectiveswife @grimmyhild @monster-energies @myobscureimaginarium @snowblossomreads @eternal-silvertongued-prince @cherryglossie @setsuna-meiou31 @helena211 @a-queen-and-her-throne @justsaturn0 @turvi @imwithyoutiltheendofthelinebucky @sunnylikesfrogs @mamawolfsmith16 @dianilaws @elizabeth-baelish @severuslovebot @leah1243 @thethotthatbreathes @rickmandowneyjr @yellowbadgermole @snapesangel @commodoreseverus @reinekefoxart @reiketsunomizunomegami @lokisbjchn

Want to be tagged? 💚 You can tag yourself HERE! Or tell me and I’ll gladly tag you! 😍

[Dec:2022]

#rickmas2022 #rickmas #judge turpin #turpin #turpin x reader #sweeney todd #alan rickman #rickmaniac #rickman #christmas #christmas fic #fanfiction #writing #fanfic #deepperplexity fic #deepperplexity #plex

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aajjks · 7 months

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TPOL!JK

“phew, mom, i’m home!!“ you yell while hanging your stuff up in the closet and kicking your shoes off at the door. work, yes, work was exhausting and there’s nothing like your mom’s home cooking to make you feel better after another long 12 hour shift.

its been exactly 2 months since you last left korea and moved to switzerland with your mother. you struggled to make ends meet for awhile and tried to keep a low profile when it came to completing your schooling. you did an easy program that allowed your credits to transfer so you could graduate with your masters, got licensed, and immediately began applying for jobs.

one week later, you got a job and began working hard to catch up on the bills and even pay for your mother’s healthcare which wasn’t expensive at all. you both live in a fairly small home but it’s a home nevertheless and your mother loves it here. she even made a friend named lola who lives next door.

although you take the train, you’re working on buying a car so you can just drive your mother around and in a year, you do just that. you buy yourself a gray honda sedan and improved on your german even though you’re still working on it. everything was going well, perfect even.

no jungkook, no crazy ass daddy issues, and you secretly flew yerin in every now and again to hang out. she informed you that jungkook asked her about you and is presumably dating a girl named tina hwang.

when you google search his name, he’s posted with this so-called tina everywhere. charity events, fashion shows, and other expensive gatherings that praise the two for looking lovely together. his stocks sky rocketed as well, so it’s safe to say he’s doing good and so are you.

you’re healthy, you’re working a sufficient job that provides for both you and your mother, and you even got a cane corso named mochi.

“so, you ARE coming to my birthday party, right y/n?”

“yes, yes” you giggle “i will be there”

and after 7 long months, you return back home for yerin’s birthday week. you stay at a hotel in seoul and keep in contact with your mom and your baby boy mochi. your mother informs you to be very careful and you know why.

the first two days, you, yerin, and hyuna go clubbing, eat out and have a lot of fun. you all drink, laugh, and reminisce on the good old days. however, jungkook gets a picture from his “friend” that shows you. outside. back in korea. your hair is a lot shorter and you look happier. you even look a bit curvier too.

you’re wearing a skintight dress he would NEVER approve of and there’s a crescent moon tattoo behind your ear with little stars. you look beautiful and he gets this urge to see you. he HAS to. at least one last time.

and so the next morning, you’re sitting by yourself at a coffee shop with your laptop typing away. you drink your coffee, eat your blueberry muffin, and read text messages from yerin who’s teasing you about working despite having a week off.

your smile is immediately turned to a frown when someone asks if they could sit with you. a familiar someone who you knew would show their face to you sooner or later.

“thought you said i’d never hear from you again if i walked out?”

“I don’t even know what I’m doing here.” Oh hearing your voice was the best thing ever. And if it’s possible, you’re even more beautiful now.

He takes time to look at your face, but you’re not even looking at him you’re just busy typing away at your laptop, Jungkook isn’t sure what he’s doing here he just had to see you. It is so pathetic he knows.

It is so pathetic how he is still not over you despite you guys ending it eight months ago. He sits right across you. “I just wanted to see your face.” He coughs out.

Oh, how is he going to be able to keep his composure when he’s seeing you after so long?

“I guess I do deserve the cold treatment you’re giving me.” he speaks once again but you don’t respond. It’s like he’s talking to a wall.

“I cannot believe that you moved away.” He says tone, a little, taunting. “so tell me how’s life in Switzerland yn?” He cannot take his eyes off a few and he sure that you noticed that.

He Scratches his neck, right where your name is tattooed.

He still has that tattoo. “why are you back?”

#ask: tpol!jungkook #oh my God 🥺🥺🥺

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stardusted-hearts · 9 months

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@familylightfox asked: For both Horizon and Stardust 💥 COLLISON - what emotions do they have trouble dealing with? 🍧 SHAVED ICE - do they still have any objects from their childhood? what significance does it have to them? what would their reaction be if they lost it? 🏊 SWIMMING - can they swim? or are they afraid of water? how well do they swim? how do they feel about swimming in the ocean? 👖 JEANS - what is their go-to outfit? 🌈 RAINBOW - what advice would they give to their younger self? ❤️ RED HEART - their love language(s)? ---

Emoji Head Canons - Not Accepting

💥 COLLISON - what emotions do they have trouble dealing with?

Stardust and Horizon BOTH suck at dealing with any kind of negative emotion. They both tend to bottle it up, although Stardust is more likely to let at least some of it out when he knows he's alone.

But over all they cram it down, and for Stardust that's not a system that really works well for him anymore [not that it was healthy to begin with]. After the events of the Forces plot and everything he's gone through, Stardust's bottled emotions can easily explode and spill out in sudden meltdowns. Which only makes him more upset. He's supposed to be the cool happy guy!!

Horizon only lets out anger. Very rare for him to vent sadness in front of someone, or even alone. The problem with his anger is that, even though he let's it out- either in a fight or argument- it's still there. Ever present, sometimes at the front of his mind, sometimes silently burning deep down in his core.

🍧 SHAVED ICE - do they still have any objects from their childhood? what significance does it have to them? what would their reaction be if they lost it?

Since I did this one for Star already, I'll just answer for Horizon here. The only thing he has left from his time on the ARK is the ARK itself, and a single damaged photo [the one that he threw at the end of Shadow the Hedgehog but later he found it again bc he had regrets].

I think if he lost the ARK his reaction would just be confusion and extreme concern because... where the FUCK did a giant space colony go??

As for the photo he'd be disappointed and hurt. It's the only thing he has to remind him of the good parts of his past, and without it he'd worry that he'll forget their faces.

🏊 SWIMMING - can they swim? or are they afraid of water? how well do they swim? how do they feel about swimming in the ocean?

Sonic can not swim, is terrified of any body of water bigger than a pool unless it's very shallow like the pond in his backyard is, and you will almost NEVER catch him willingly going into the ocean.

Not without multiple flotation devices and someone he trusts with his life, and he will not enjoy it.

The only time any of this is an exception is if someone he cares for is in danger and he needs to jump into water to save them... somehow.

Shadow can swim and does so VERY well, isn't afraid of water, and actually enjoys the ocean quite a lot.

👖 JEANS - what is their go-to outfit?

For Stardust, hot weather is a tank top and shorts, cold weather is a hoodie and leggings, and usually nothing for sleeping but if he does wear something it's a big baggy t-shirt and maybe shorts

For Horizon... nothing aside from the gloves and rocket boots he always wears.

🌈 RAINBOW - what advice would they give to their younger self?

"Some day you're gonna get sucked into a storybook- TWICE!! And NO ONE is gonna believe ya, so take pictures! Get evidence!"

"Experiencing joy comes at the cost of experiencing great pain. It's the nature of living. It's... it's worth it. I think. Cherish your joy."

❤️ RED HEART - their love language(s)?

Lots of physical contact, snuggling, nuzzling, little touches, BITING [softly]. Teasing, favors, acts of service, gift giving, providing food and drinks. He WILL hound them about hydration.

Acts of service, favors, fretting over them without realizing it, picking them the fuck up for no reason and carrying them around just because he can, banter, cooking, making or buying their favorite little treats, keeping close, cuddling, little touches, AND HE ALSO BITES

Horizon can also easily adapt to a partner's love language if it's something he doesn't already do, once he's figured out that it is a part of their love language and understands it.

#stardusted replies #familylightfox #stardusted headcanons #-= stardusted heart =-#-= event horizon =-#ask game #ask meme

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xiaonesis · 3 years

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heart of the moon (Fem!Reader x Suna Rintarou) NSFW

If you are a minor, please do not read.

A/N: This was commissioned by @decemberbellz, who asked for a GWS!Suna NSFW fic. This was both challenging and fun to write as I tried to push myself more in smut writing :>

If you are interested in commissioning me, you can check my commission details here!

Pairing: Fox-folk!Suna Rintarou x Fem!Reader

Tags: 18+, NSFW, Fox-folk Suna, Magical Aphrodisiac, Ghosts We See Related, Alternate Characters, Established Relationship, Exhibitionism??, Water sex but not really because it’s not safe for you and Suna knows this too, Tooth-Rotting fluff

Summary

Why is it that he’s the one bare and naked as the day he was born yet you’re the one feeling vulnerable and exposed?

Suddenly, standing here in front of Suna, you felt silly.

Having gotten some rest and a chance to drop from the high that propelled you from your world to Hyquile, armed with jelly sticks, frisbee, camera and a burning desire to be with your boyfriend, you realize that perhaps you are jealous of the couples you see in your world. That they get to see each other without barriers and do all the coupley things so easily, without issue, without exploding jelly sticks or rocket frisbees- And perhaps, a part of you is insecure because of this.

You and Suna are separated not just by worlds but by entirely different cultures and lifestyles...some biological.

He’s a fox-folk. And you’re a human from another world.

WC: 9.6k

Note: You do not have to read Ghosts We See to understand this but it will give you a lot of background understanding/context! Link to GWS on my pinned post.

You are a normal girl.

A normal girl with aspirations for the future, and friends you love hanging out with on weekends, weaving through Shinjuku department stores during the day, bar hopping from Roppongi all the way to Ebisu in the night.

You have foods you hate, foods you can eat spoon after spoon before realizing you need to stop, and parents you love to disagree with.

School, studies, hobbies, dating. The standard fare.

You aren’t different from others your age...except the fact that you travel between alternate worlds when you go to sleep.

Regular college girl by day and dimension traveling, magical girl by night.

Other than that, yeah, you do normal everyday girl things: scrolling through social media looking at images of cats, and spending hours on TV selecting what to watch with your dinner only to end up re-watching a show you’ve seen for the 74th time and eating a cold dinner.

You cram and panic for exams, may or may not consume unhealthy amounts of caffeine, and dabble with your favorite makeup and polish.

You love shopping with friends, checking out the latest pancake shop on the block with them and their significant others, and spending sunny Sundays at the park with single friends, coupled friends, a frisbee and cheap Family Mart drinks.

And then you would look, as those in your social circle take cute selfies with their partners, and see the very same picture posted online later, with a heartwarming caption. You will click ‘Like’ and smile something bittersweet

You would glimpse strangers share an innocent, sometimes not so innocent, kiss at the corner of the bar, watch as they drunkenly support each other in their search for a lost shoe and way home together. Watch as the couple on the table next to yours feed each other macadamia-cream covered pancakes.

You’re not jealous though.

Not at all.

You have no reason to be.

Because you also have an amazing boyfriend who you absolutely adore.

He’s kind, smart, thoughtful, and considerate. He’s not very expressive but what he does not share in words he shows with his actions. And you will never change him or have him any other way.

Not to mention devastatingly handsome with one of the most beautiful pairs of eyes- like jade dipped in golden light- that you have ever seen. By the Gods, you love his eyes.

They are incredibly visually striking, sharp, and distinctive, and you can go on and on about his eyes for hours if anyone offers to listen.

Ginjima made the mistake once. He regrets it to this day.

Yes, everything is as normal as it can get for you and you have an amazing boyfriend to boot.

Life is great.

Except that you live in separate worlds from your boyfriend.

No, not separate worlds as if you’re living in different countries and overcoming a long-distance relationship together.

As in literal separate worlds.

Alternate dimensions.

Actually, is he even your boyfriend?

Well, you know that you are together with him, without a doubt. Have been for a little while.

But do the fox-folks even use the term boyfriend?

Do fox-folks have girlfriends and boyfriends, or even perceive relationships the same way as you do in your world? Or them with the rest of Hyquile?

Didn’t they couple for the sake of procreation, only to leave with their offspring after and abandoning their human uhh...mates? Significant other?

Did it even matter?

Such questions are the norm for you in the young relationship you share with one Suna Rintarou.

Semantics in a relationship with a fox-folk aside, the whole and only issue you have in your relationship with him is that you do not get to spend nearly enough time with your boyfriend as much as you’d like! At least, not in the manner you want to either.

You can’t hold his hand as you walk down the school hallways, or peck him on the cheek when you whizz by his desk. There’s no strolling under the lights down Omotesando Hills or sharing in macadamia-cream covered pancakes. No taking purikuras together in neon pink booths or playing frisbee.

(The one time you two did partake in throwing anything together involved magically charged talismans that exploded on contact!)

You can’t-...you can’t even share a chuupet stick with him after lunch, bentos scattered between you!

No.

Instead, time spent with your fox-folk boyfriend often involved politics and sprinkles of explosive magic. From watching him spar with Aran and the twins, followed by meditating sessions with Kita, to ensuring the twins are kept under control, all the way to attending political meetings with Kuroo and the others, there are numerous people that require Suna’s presence. Outrageous, considering you’re supposed to be his girlfriend.

And if it isn’t Suna that is caught up and required by someone else, it is you that is needed elsewhere.

It often feels like your relationship with Suna is shared with the world; not a private affair that only you two are privy to.

You’re not angry about that though.

He’s one of Inarizaki’s best tacticians. His insight is needed by the fox-folks and even Kuroo and the others will not turn down any opportunity to have him join them at their council meetings.

At the same time, your position makes you critical to resolving one of the largest threats Hyquile has ever faced.

You are both in demand. Busy.

You’re not angry.

But you are upset and extremely frustrated.

Is it so terrible that you desire some quality time with your boyfriend? (or whatever the proper term fox-folks prefer is)

Is it horrible of you to want to be selfish, to want him for yourself for just a moment, amidst everything that is going on in their world?

No, you do not think it is.

It is reasonable for you to feel this way. Your emotions are valid.

Which is why you are determined to spend some quality time with your boyfriend the next time you are in Hyquile, one way or another.

So what if you can’t take purikura pictures with him? You can just bring a polaroid camera with you!

Chuupet stick? You can bring that too.

Frisbee? You can also bring that.

Pancakes?

You’re sure you can make them! Bet Frosty Osamu will appreciate the recipe too!

...Okay, maybe you do feel a little jealous of all the couples you see in your world. That you can’t do the same things with Suna stung. A teeny bit but sting it does.

They say love stings and they are right.

So now here you are, circling the fox village in search of Suna, with a bundle of food and a packet of chuupet sticks in your arms. You figure that if his volleyball athlete alternate likes them, he might too. Hopefully.

In any case, you were hoping to have lunch with him for that coveted quality time you are desiring but never did it occur to you that searching for a fox-folk, known for their stealth and elusivity, in their own habitat would be this hard. It doesn’t help that Thoughtful Suna is additionally more evasive compared to his brethren, often preferring to be alone…

You like to think that has changed since you came along.

“Oi, what’re ya’ doin’?”

A figure calls you from the roof of a nearby building. You immediately recognize the voice as that of Atsumu and if he’s nearby, then that means-

“Onigiri?”

“Shit! ” You scream, jumping in surprise when Osamu spoke over your shoulder from nowhere, sending the items in your hold flying.

Quick hands grab them from the air before you can recover, and Osamu inspects the neatly wrapped bundle and mysterious colored sticks curiously.

“Don’t scare me like that!” You whirl around to face him angrily. He’s made you age ten years at least with that fright!

“It’s yer own damn fault for not being spatially aware,” Atsumu drawls. He drops down from the rooftop and makes his way over.

Osamu ignores you and sniffs the bundle.

“Onigiri. With eggs and tuna,” he says. There is a little twinkle in his usually blank eyes that makes your nose scrunch.

“What’s this?” Atsumu grabs the bag of chuupet sticks from his brother and rips it open without so much as asking for your permission. It reminds you of ‘Tsumu, both in manner and the vexation it rouses in you.

“Hey! That’s not for you!” You make a grab for the pack but who are you kidding, trying to take something from a slippery fox-folk? You can’t even get anything back from ‘Tsumu in your world without some underhanded trick.

Suddenly, there’s a splash of color like fireworks and bits of sticky, cold jelly drizzles onto the both of you. A red blob splats onto your cheek, leaving a trail as it slides down your chin.

You stare at the ruined pack of chuupet sticks in Atsumu’s hands.

Atsumu blinks at the sticky mess in his hand, mouth hanging loosely in an ‘o’ shape.

“Oops.”

“ Oops? Why’d you do that for?!” You groan, ripping the bag from him to see if there was even one stick left intact. Nope, they’re all ruined.

“It was an accident! I didn’t know they were squishy! Ya’ should have said somethin’!” Atsumu throws his hands up like it’s your fault that he squeezed the jelly sticks too hard. “I’m too strong, okay?!”

Too strong-

You take a deep breath.

This is fine.

It’s fine.

The twins of Hyquile are destructive and extremely curious by nature. You should have foreseen that alien jelly sticks from another world would have turned into bombs in one of their hands.

You can always bring more next time for Suna and there’s still the onigiris you made.

Flicking remnants of jelly off your hands, purposefully splattering some onto Atsumu who protested, you turn to retrieve your bundle from Osamu only to stop in horror at the sight of him eating what was supposed to be yours and Suna’s lunch.

Osamu pauses mid-bite, staring up at you from the ground where he has settled with his stolen food. Your food. That you made for Suna. Specifically.

He shrugs carelessly at your stricken expression.

“I was hungry.” Chomp.

“That’s not for you either!!”

He pauses again.

“Oh...is it for Suna?”

“Of course it’s for Suna!”

Osamu’s brow scrunch in what you thought is remorse but when he swallows the entire onigiri whole moments later, with no hesitation whatsoever, you can only blame yourself for giving him the benefit of the doubt.

“I was already halfway through it.”

‘Ahhhh-!!!’

A soundless scream signals your stomping departure.

It’s fine!

You have other things thought out in case something like this happened anyways!...Well, you meant for all of it to work without a hitch. You certainly didn’t have the forethought to see that chuupet sticks can be detonated via a hand crush.

This highway robbery of lunch by the twins is just a contingency plan.

Yeah, that’s it.

A contingency plan.

The real plan is to spend a nice afternoon by the riverside playing frisbee with Suna.

So now here you are, yet again, looking for Suna, this time with a frisbee in your hand.

Curious eyes, young and old follow your bounding figure and the yellow disk swinging wildly in arcs at your side.

Guess frisbee isn’t a thing here in the Inarizaki House territory...perhaps in Hyquile too. You’re sure the Johzenji dog tribe would love to hear about it though. Maybe you’ll give one to Terushima the next time you see him.

Just where is Suna anyways? Jeez, he must be the hardest fox-folk to track in existence.

You spot Aran and Akagi up ahead, on their rounds inspecting the integrity of the illusion protecting the village perimeters.

And if you can see any fox-folks, they can see you too.

They make their way over to you, wordlessly letting you know they’ve seen you long before you spotted them.

“What are ya’ doin’ all the way over here?” Akagi asks when he’s close enough.

“Well, I’m looking for Suna. Have either of you seen him?” You ask hopefully.

“He should be with Lord Kita at the lake hall-” Aran tells you.

“I think he’s out on patrol with Ginjima right now-” Akagi says at the same time as Aran.

The two look at each other, both silently questioning the other.

Well, there goes this lead.

“It’s alright, I’ll just keep looking,” you sigh, fingers rapping loudly on the frisbee.

“What’s that?” Akagi squints at the disk curiously.

Aran’s head tilts in intrigue. “Is that a weapon of sorts from your world?”

“ Pfft- this? A weapon? Oh no, we play this as a pastime in my world!” You muffle your laughter, not wanting to tease them for something out of their control. With the state of their world and history, they probably had no time for frisbees anyways…

“I was planning on showing it to Suna but do you guys want to give it a try?”

A few minutes later…

You stare up into the great blue sky as your frisbee, with your name scrawled haphazardly on the back in black marker, turns into nothing but a speck in the distance.

“Aran...you were supposed to throw it just enough that Akagi can’t catch it.”

The bear-folk looks at Akagi on the other end of the field. Akagi has a hand up to shield his eyes from the sun as he squints vainly into the sky, in search of a yellow disk that isn’t the sun.

“Yeah...I don’t think we’ll be findin’ that anytime soon,” Akagi shakes his head.

Aran looks back down at you and you swear there’s a triumphant shine in his eye.

“I win.”

That evening, laying on your side in Suna’s bed, you heave a long, tired sigh.

So much for quality time. Today was an entire bust.

The lunch you made for you and Suna to share was hijacked and detonated, your one frisbee was thrown to eternity by Aran, and the polaroid camera you brought is out of battery.

And you haven’t even seen Suna all day, not once!

Turns out both Aran and Akagi were wrong, and Suna was actually returning from an assignment Kita sent him on today.

You can only console yourself with the fact that he’ll be home tonight, and thought maybe you can surprise him with a nice dinner but…

Today has been downright exhausting!- and you’re just so tired and frustrated that nothing went the way you wanted it to.

You sniff and rub your nose, curling tighter into Suna’s blankets. Suna’s familiar scent, of woodlands and silver grass, engulfs you and you close your eyes.

A nap will do wonders right now…

When you wake, inky blue has dipped the sky, and a pillar of silver light cascades onto the land.

A full moon.

It’s late and Suna should have been back by now.

You whip around to check the other side of the empty bed. The room is dark and the house is silent, yet you spot the leather pouch containing his tools that Suna always carries on his person. Which suggests that he’s been home at some point.

Rubbing off the lingering imprisonment of sleep in your eyes, you make your way downstairs in time to spot the front doors to the house slowly closing and clicking into place.

Was that Suna?

Why didn’t he wake you?

Tiptoeing to the door, you open it to poke your head out with a strained smile. No need to worry Suna just because you had a terrible day. He must be extremely tired too after his trip-

You frown at the low steps that led into Suna’s home.

It isn’t uncommon to find Suna sitting on the steps to moon gaze and work on his talismans, which was the sight you had been expecting when you came out to find him.

You look around, eyes squinting into the village and the surrounding forests nearby. With the help of the moon, you are able to spot a figure walking down one of the dirt paths that led into the forest. A dim ball of silverlight glows in their hand, illuminating their way as they begin to disappear into the dark.

You recognize that back and light! It’s Suna but where could he be going at this time of the night?

If Suna wanted you to come along to wherever he is headed, he would have woken you up. That he did not do that meant he wanted to be alone...

It didn’t take you more than a second to decide to follow him, curiosity getting the best of you.

He’s an adult, and more than capable of taking care of himself but can anybody really blame you for being worried (and exceedingly curious) about your boyfriend, venturing into the night alone?

Like a true creature of the silent night, you stalk after the dot of silver through the shadows and trees, zigzagging from trunk to trunk whilst keeping a safe distance to avoid detection by your currently unaware boyfriend.

cruuunch

...Well, hopefully he didn’t catch that (unlikely but a girl can hope).

The silver dot disappears and you quicken your pace, leaves crunching softly under you. Getting lost in the fox-folk’s forest is the last thing you want to add to your already terrible day.

When the thicket opens up, a lake spreads out before your eyes. Trees circle the area, shielding the lake from unwanted eyes; rocks dotted along its sides, their surfaces smooth from rain and lapping waves. The water glimmers with a veil of stars, bestowed upon it by the moon and it’s ethereal light.

The lake isn’t large, much smaller compared to the lake lying at the bottom of Inarizaki’s sacred waterfall, but its water is clear, pristine, and free of evil taint.

Ducking behind a tree, you watch Suna standing motionlessly at the edge, his face turned up towards starlit skies and the moon.

Unconsciously, your head rests against the trunk as you watch him and you cannot help the tiny smile that lifts your lips.

You always knew that he found peace, solitude, in moonlit nights but rarely do you ever glimpse him in his space, alone and serene. He’s not hard at work replenishing his weapons; his hands still and free of tools.

Suna looks so peaceful, basking in the moonlight...

He looks mystical, even, with silver crowning his hair and sleeves swaying in night winds.

You sigh, lovesick and full of wonder at how lucky you are to have him. Yet, it bothers you to feel this division between you and him that stretches beyond dimensional borders...

You are broken out of your reverie when Suna moves and begins to strip.

O-Oh-!?

His obi, an alluring shade of chartreuse the color of his eyes, pools by his feet followed by layers of his clothes sliding off skin and muscle. Your mouth fell open, prompting you to slap a hand over it to quell the squeak of surprise that threatens to burst forth.

Oh, uhh is this-?

You should...probably leave him...to his privacy. Wow, your face feels hot.

Yeah, you need to go. You don’t wanna...you don’t want to spy on your boyfriend like this.

He’s going to take a bath. In the lake. You wanted quality time not to invade his private time. And bath time is a private time for most people. This makes you feel like a pervert too, leering at him from the cover of trees. So you should really goooo- damn, the muscles on his back are rippling.

Okay, he’s going into the water. Man, you really want to be lake water right now-

No, you’re going to go. You need to stop looking and just go.

It’s not like you’ve never seen him naked before. It’s nothing new but spirits, the moonlight hits different on his skin-

“I know you’re there.”

You freeze.

“Did you really think I wouldn’t notice you?”

The sound of splashing water reaches your ear and you close your eyes, mentally berating yourself.

Right, he’s a fox-folk, master of stealth and illusions and all. Of course you never stood a chance.

You peek back around the tree to find Suna with his back to you, casually splashing water onto his face, not in the least bit bothered that you were spying on him. Well, attempted to anyway. He probably knew you had been following him the moment you stepped out of his house.

“S-Sorry...I didn’t know you were coming here to-” your eyes shift down to where the water surface rims his hips, “-b-bath!” You tear your eyes away.

Suna dunks his head into the water and straightens right back up, spraying arcs of silver beads into the air.

It’s not fair how his presence turns the entire area into a shampoo commercial set.

Turning his body to the side, enough to put you in his view and his bare chest in yours- ahem - Suna tilts his head questioningly at you.

“How long do you plan on standing there?”

“O-Oh, r-right. I’ll just go-”

He shakes his head. “Come over here.”

“Oh. Uhh-” you hesitate, body wavering left and right between him and the path home until your feet make the decision for you and carry you towards him.

Stopping a little ways from where his clothes lay in a pile, you try to look everywhere but at his glistening muscular body and shapely butt-

Suna resumes washing his body with the cold water but keeps striking eyes on you. “I heard from the others that you were looking for me today. What is it?”

“I-It was nothing…”

“Was it now?” He hums. “I heard that you were quite upset with the twins. And there was something about a lost...what was it, frisbee?”

It feels like he’s teasing you with the slow way he’s running his hand down his neck, rivulets of water dribbling down his throat and elbow.

Shitty bastard. He knows you’re flustered; you know he knows, and yet he’s continuing on with his business oh-so-casually!

You cross your arms, throwing your face to the side with an annoyed pout. “Yeah, Aran threw it to infinity and the twins ruined all the food I prepared for-” you grumble to a stop.

“For?” Suna prods, sinking into the water up to his neck.

You purse your lips, unwilling to say the words; your feet begin to unconsciously kick the grass, scattering loose soil and blades.

Why is it that he’s the one bare and naked as the day he was born yet you’re the one feeling vulnerable and exposed?

Suddenly, standing here in front of Suna, you felt silly.

That they get to see each other without barriers and do all the coupley things so easily, without issue, without exploding jelly sticks or rocket frisbees-

And perhaps, a part of you is insecure because of this.

You and Suna are separated not just by worlds but by entirely different cultures and lifestyles...some biological.

He’s a fox-folk. And you’re a human from another world.

On top of that, there’s everything else going on with the Rot…

Quality time should be the least of your worries and the last of his. Doubt culminates into your fingers, clenching into uncertainty.

How...long can this even last?

And Suna, there’s still so much about him that remains a mystery to you. His past, his thoughts…it isn’t that he keeps them from you intentionally. But he’s always been a private person, and you never want to potentially intrude on more than he allows you to.

This small gap in your communion feels immense, infinite, alongside everything else.

The soft calling of your name drags you back into the present, away from the spiral of insecurity hidden behind a flimsy facade of ‘everything’s fine,’ and into Suna’s eyes. They were piercing even with the short distance inbetween you.

“What is it?” “It’s nothing.”

He frowns. “I don’t think it is.”

“Well, you know everything really well, don’t you?”

You roll your eyes before you can stop it, roiling emotions getting the best of you. You’re being unfair and petty, taking out your frustrations on him. You know you are but you can’t help it.

It’s not fine and it’s just been such a shitty day-! And-...you’re so frustrated! You had actually been looking forward to today but the twins happened, and then the thing with your frisbee happened, and then the camera battery-

“Breathe.”

Cool hands touch your neck, one gliding up to brush your hair behind your ear. With his thumb, Suna rubs a gentle streak across your temple and you feel yourself relax, his touch the water that douses your crackling fire. Whether subconsciously or by his command, you did take a deep breath, allowing it to leave you in one slow puff.

Suna stands before you with naught but his robe pulled loosely over him and moonlight crowning him with a silver halo. It’s as if the celestial light follows him, like a shadow.

Ironic as that may be but that is what you thought at this moment. Since learning about his magic, when you see the moon, you think of Suna.

“Did you use your magic on me?” you peer up at him, albeit guiltily.

He shook his head, expression blank but there is a softness to his brows and lips that will never be present in front of the others.

“I did not have to.”

“...sorry. I shouldn’t have taken it out on you. I...didn’t have a good day,” you sigh, head falling forward into his damp chest.

“Hm. Tell me about it?”

So with slow, uncertain words, you told Suna about what you had planned for you and him, and what happened to all of those plans; told him about the couples you see every day at school, when you’re outside, on the way home, on social media.

Did he think you were clingy, coveting for his attention and time in such a frivolous manner, when there are more important matters?

No matter what powers you hold or what others may call you- savior or otherwise...

At the end of the day, you are just a normal girl.

“...I just wanted to spend more time with you,” you finally admit with a long sigh, shoulders slumping.

Suna presses a kiss to the top of your head and droplets fall from the ends of his hair onto you, gliding down your shoulders.

“You could have talked to me,” he mumbles.

When he wraps long arms around you, water seeps through your clothes, sticking to your skin. You shiver, but you don’t feel cold; not in his arms.

“I know. It’s just...it feels silly, you know? You’re so busy, and there are more important things happening that I did not want to bother you with something so trivial,” you say, face buried and voice muffled in his chest.

“Hey,” he gently separates you from him, tilting your head up towards him with a hand. “You’re important too. And not just because of your magic.”

Suna searches your eyes and is perturbed by the doubt and insecurity he finds within them.

He’s not one for superfluity, preferring to say and do only what is necessary, regardless of how others may perceive him. Relationships are difficult and socialization has never been a priority for him, much less love. Suna has always been solitary, even amongst the fox-folks.

But with you, through you, he’s learning what it means to be with someone, to care for them in a capacity that is completely different from the esteem he holds for Kita and begrudgingly, the others he calls brethren too, Miya twins included.

He’s always thought there is no room for doubt in how he feels for you, but perhaps things aren’t as simple as he thinks. Sometimes, even he forgets that you aren’t like them, obvious factors aside.

Beyond being a human and a fox-folk...the places from which you both came and grew up are worlds apart.

None of that matters to him though. What matters most to him is-

“You’re important to me.”

Suna’s way with words is blunt, simple, lacking any of the poetic romance that perfuses media and adorns the fantasies of young, silly romantics such as yourself.

Nevertheless, it is this very simplicity that holds the entire weight of his sincerity, his honesty. Absent of decorated words, Suna means what he says with his entire being.

No more, no less.

“I should have said it more often. I did not know my reassurances would have assuaged your doubts,” he murmurs, brows furrowing in thought. You recognize the pinch in his brow and the pursing of his lip with a tiny downward curve as one of unfamiliarity, appearing when Suna finds himself encountering an unknown foe.

He is not used to this, expressing words of affirmation.

Something blue and bitter squeezes your heart at this realization. Knowing what you do of his history…

You touch his cheek and he leans into the touch ever so imperceptibly. Caressing the planes of his cheek, you shake your head in apology. “No, I should not have let myself fixate on things so trivial as photos and picnics.”

“Oh? Are you saying you rather not spend time with me now?” He leans away from your touch, one brow raised in question.

“No!” You laugh, body chasing after him when he steps away from you in jest.

Your little chase takes you to the edge of the lake where the moon divides it with its sterling light, scattering across still waters and illuminating it in a resplendent glow.

This time, it is you who wraps your arms tightly around him, giggling and unwilling to let him go. It warms your heart when Suna makes small jokes and teases such as this. It is a sign of his trust and ease in your presence.

(It reminds you of the athlete)

Pressing your cheeks to him, you sigh in content, lightly nuzzling him. In the sleeping forest, you can hear the beautiful beating of his heart.

“Of course I want to spend time with you,” you say, laughter fading into a simper as you look up at him.

In your eyes are reflected the stars, and in their depths, Suna sees an ocean of love for him and he wonders how lucky he is, that you give it all to him so freely in spite of himself.

And in Suna’s eyes, you see the wonder with which he gazes at you, and you think that you truly are lucky, despite all odds. You were silly to have been swayed by the people around you and established notions of relationships.

“You are probably the only person in the world who would say that,” Suna murmurs, a hint of amused irony tugging at his lips. He’s not the village loner only by choice.

“If you let them, I'm pretty sure the twins wouldn’t leave you alone,” you giggle, leaning up on your toes.

His nose wrinkles in distaste.

“I rather they didn’t.”

You peck his lips with a smile so large, your cheeks began to hurt. Spending time with Suna like this, it feels like the two of you were mere ordinary folks, maybe even regular college students stealing kisses in hallway corners.

Time isn’t against you and providence isn’t closing in.

Suna returns your kiss with his own, and you tighten your arms around him in response. Wind rustles the trees and nips at your skin but Suna’s natural body heat warms you through your clothes, seeping in.

A hand drags down your back, leaving a heated trail that has you humming into the kiss in contentment. You want to stay with him like this forever.

Suna pulls you forward with his lips still connected to yours, causing you to teeter on your feet in surprise at the sudden movement. When you feel the ground gently slope and your sandal-clad feet touch damp earth, you break the kiss and dig your heels into the grass.

“Nuh-uh.”

“I’m still in need of a bath since someone interrupted me. Didn’t you say you wanted to spend time with me?” Suna blandly responds, hardly batting an eye as he turns and begins to disrobe.

Even when you had been peeking at him from a distance, Suna’s sculpted body was not lost on you but up close, you couldn’t help but nervously admire his body, despite having felt them underneath your very palms.

Honed and trained over the years, his figure is lithe, tightly packed with a subtle strength that runs along his arms and down his broad back. Veins distinctly trail from the back of his hands, and scars -some light, others darker- mark parts of his skin.

They are the lingering ghosts from his past, old pages from unspoken tales.

In your world, scars are rarely considered beautiful.

But you think they’re wrong.

“Well, yes but this wasn’t-” you avert your eyes, face heating when you were treated to a full view of his bare back.

“It’s not like you haven’t seen me naked before,” he deadpans at your embarrassment.

“Yeah but this is-” your eyes dart around at the looming trees, “- we’re in public. ”

You whisper your last words, so low that if Suna wasn’t a fox-folk, he wouldn’t have caught it.

He rolls his eyes at your paranoia, a soft chuckle rumbling from him that rings clear in the quiet night.

“We’re in a forest.”

“Near your village.”

“At night.”

“That’s filled with stealthy fox-folks. Like the twins.”

A short laugh escapes him at your paranoia and he shakes his head in exasperation. Stepping into the water, he extends a hand back towards you. A rare and almost haughty smirk graces his lips.

“I assure you, if someone is spying on us, I will know.”

You flush at the reminder of your horrible espionage attempt. Guess there goes your career as a spy.

“Trust me.”

Trust him, huh?

It should be hard, trusting someone as private and barricaded as Suna. There are many things you do not yet know about him, the fog of mystery surrounding him never fully alleviating.

But you do.

It’s alarming, almost, how easily you trusted him, since the early days of your acquaintance.

You trust him.

With your body, your life.

Your heart.

Enchanted by two simple words akin to a spellbind, you pull at the sash wrapped neatly around your waist. They fall, followed by your underclothes.

Night air nips at your skin as you step out from the pool at your feet and approach Suna, vulnerable as the day you were born. You take his hand and Suna leads you into the lake.

Shivering as the cold water rises to your waist, you couldn’t help but mutter to yourself, “I’ve never gone skinny-dipping before.”

Suna shoots you a confused look which quickly morphs into amusement when you tense and freeze at the cold.

“W-Why would you c-choose to bathe in the lake at night?” you chatter, vainly attempting to shake the cold off.

“Privacy,” he plainly replies. “Here.”

He tugs you close easily, the water floating you to him effortlessly as your toes lift from the bottom. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you allow Suna to keep you afloat. You trust him not to dunk you under or let you drown.

It didn’t take long for your body to acclimatize, Suna rubbing gentle circles into your back rejuvenating you from the long day. You nuzzle the underside of his neck affectionately.

“Someone’s needy today,” he smiles.

“I can’t help it. I missed you.”

He doesn’t say anything in response, but you know his answer when he kisses your forehead. You turn your face up so that his mouth falls on yours instead, the light drag of his lips down your skin and nose sending flutters to your chest.

Kisses with Suna always began soft and playful, gradually delving into a slow tempo, a dance where the world didn’t exist and it’s just the two of you.

His world, your world, fox-folk, humans- everything fades into darkness, leaving just you and the feel of him around you, your very own moon in the night.

The taste of his mouth, the spark of pain when he bites, the brush of your chest against his...everything feels heightened in this little forest bubble the two of you have claimed for tonight.

You didn’t need a prepared lunch or frisbee. You didn’t need anything other than Suna.

He keeps you close to him with one hand firmly on your hips and the other tangled in your hair but it wasn’t enough. So you wrap your legs around his waist, and he responds by shifting his arms to the underside of your thighs, both hands squeezing your flesh.

Water laps at your bodies, replaced by air as it recedes when Suna carries you back towards shore, all the while never allowing you a moment to breathe, lightly pulling at your bottom lip with his teeth whenever you so much as move away.

You didn’t want to anyways. The way he has you now is perfectly fine.

He sits you on a low boulder at the shallow ends, its surface smooth from weather and water. In this position, you are at the perfect height for him to kiss you endlessly.

A soft whine rose from you when he breaks away, leaning back with his finding their way back to your hips, keeping you in place.

Eyes that shine gold in moonlight roam down your bare body still wet from the lake, your legs parted on either side of him.

A little joke passes through his thoughts that he does not voice and he smirks to himself.

(he’s going to make something else wet too)

With the palpable way you feel his gaze, you couldn’t help but feel slightly self-conscious, face scrunching in embarrassment as your right leg begins to retract to cover yourself.

Suna stops you, a large hand grabbing your ankle. The other props him up when he leans in close, towering over you. Lips brush against the shell of your ear, and you shiver.

Warm breath ghosts your ear alongside the deep timbre of Suna’s voice. He faces you, eyes staring straight into yours with intensity

“Do you trust me?”

This time isn’t like any of the other times he’s asked you something similar.

One of Suna’s outstanding traits is his eyes- they are dull, despite possessing a sharp perception. They lack...energy.

Drained from a life of loss and hardship.

But now, there’s an impassioned heat to his gaze, bright and glowing with a force of quiet life that you’ve never seen before.

At the same time, you don’t know if the glow you are witnessing is a trick of the moonlight or his magic, welling.

Whichever it may be, you knew your answer immediately.

“Yes.”

Your voice is but a whisper, afraid that anything more will disrupt the vision right in front of you.

The way he’s looking at you has your heart beating loudly, gulping in both anticipation and nervousness when he speaks his next words.

“Then surrender yourself to me.”

You didn’t register your silent wispy ‘ okay,’ all of your attention taken by a foreign sensation that begins from your ankle which Suna still has wrapped in his hand. A tingling, almost ticklish, traveling up your leg.

His other hand traces to your waist, the underside of your breasts, to your neck before finally cupping your cheek and bringing you in for a kiss long-awaited.

Everywhere his hand touched, you can feel your body relaxing, falling into a docile peace- one found in early mornings in the arms of a lover, or in the silence of a mountain peak.

You know what’s happening. You’ve seen him do this a handful of times, but not on you.

It’s Suna’s magic, working its way into your body, seeping, taking slow control of it. Unlike the magic he uses on his enemies, this one is coaxing your body into relaxation, elevating your body and mind to a heightened state of sensitivity that feels every.minute.movement.

An aphrodisiac effect.

Everything feels magnified.

Right before you submit the last of your inhibitions to Suna, to the pleasure of his fingers dragging slowly, sensually, up your calf, the back of your knees, to your inner thighs- you glance up at the moon.

Eyes fluttering close when long fingers reach the apex of your thighs, you recall in a haze that Suna’s magic is strongest on moonlit nights, and it’s a full moon tonight.

With a shuddery breath, you fully surrender yourself to pleasure and him.

Suna took the eager sweep of your tongue against him as an additional signal for him to continue, despite your earlier consent. It’s in his nature to be careful, double checking and taking careful thought before undertaking anything; sex included.

He isn’t worried that his magic might have influenced your choice; it wasn’t enough to overtake anyone who did not allow it, much less you. He’s seen your will, witnessed your quiet fighting spirit countless times. You wouldn’t fall, not to this level of magic.

Him asking for your surrender is more for him rather than you; your unequivocal trust in him moved him, stirred a passion and longing for your touch, your intimacy.

Fox-folks are inherently different from humans in the end, even if they might share part of the same lineage. Copulation has always been largely a means of survival for them, not an expression of love. He’s never cared for it but with you...it’s different.

No, he still doesn’t want any offspring. Maybe someday, who knows. He certainly doesn’t in the present.

It’s different with you because he finds that he doesn’t mind your presence, seeks it out even on some days. And then there are some nights, like tonight, where he doesn’t want to let you go.

He pushes the thoughts out before he can think about the next moment you have to leave the village, or leave his world. Pushes them away with the same force he pulls you towards him, yanking you forward by your ankles. A yelp, less of surprise and more of arousal, is his reward.

There’s also the magic he’s working on you to blame for it but he can smell your arousal, pheromones permeating his sharp senses, and he’s barely done anything. He already finds it amusingly endearing how susceptible you are to him without his magic. And now, with his magic amplifying your senses, he wonders how much more…-

He gives you a taste test, teasingly running two fingers up your slit. Once. Twice.

You inhale sharply, eyes squeezing shut and arms shaking as you fight to keep yourself upright.

“T-This is-” you manage in between shaky breaths.

Suna smiles, bordering on a smirk as he continues teasing you. “How does it feel?”

He grazes his thumb across your clit and one of your arms all but gives out.

“I-It’s s-so...s-strong,” you pant, blinking up at him with dazed eyes, trying to keep your wits about you.

“Do you want me to stop?” He slides a finger in, beginning an excruciatingly slow pace and there goes your other arm.

Eyes rolling shut, you furiously shake your head, arms and legs already quivering with just this.

“You have to use your words, or I wouldn’t know.” The vehement way you’re shaking your head is definitely answer enough but Suna isn’t Suna without this additional layer of consideration.

“N-No. I don’t want you to...stop.”

Briefly, Suna wonders if he might have applied too much magic, especially since it is a full moon tonight but…

There you lay, completely vulnerable, bare, fragile; soft silver light sweeping your figure, damp hair curling on amorous skin glistening with clinging water and the beginnings of sweat despite the night. The slick of arousal was already sticking to your thighs, further spread by his fingers moving unhurriedly in and out of you.

Your eyes are clouded, lust, love, and yearning for him swirling within them. Your hips shift, bucking against his hand, silently begging for more.

He decides against withdrawing his magic.

You can take it.

You sigh with literal relief when he finally picks up the pace of his fingers, thumb now rubbing circles on your clit as he pushes you down completely onto the rock.

Your ankles dangle in the cold water but you hardly notice, not when Suna is tracing kisses down your neck and shoulders. He looks up at you, a mischievous glint in his eye as he continues kissing around your breasts, purposely avoiding the very place you want him to touch. Your leg kicks out reactively at your building frustration, water splashing onto his back.

“S-Suna!” You can’t be sure if you were chastising him or begging him at this point. Likely both. With a stronger propensity for the latter.

You feel rather than see him smirk on your skin, and he finally gives you what you want.

Taking a perk nipple into his mouth, he laves and sucks at it, all the while keeping his other hand working at your core, adding another finger in and curling them. Your lips part in a soundless gasp.

‘ Oh...fuck,’ is all you can coherently think.

You’re feeling everything at an intensity you never have before.

Every soft bite on supple flesh, every hard suck at your breasts, and every.single.flick of his tongue against your nipple has you keening, back arching up into his mouth for more, more, more.

Are you- are you whining? Is that you, panting and moaning wantonly, legs tightening and then slipping around his back, trying to futilely hold on?

Your hands are gripping onto him like a lifeline where your legs failed, grasping at his hair and curling around his shoulder- anything to keep you grounded from the potent sensations he’s lavishing on your breasts and-

Oh, wow, his fingers feel like fucking magic inside you. He’s literally fucking magic into you.

With just his fingers!

A third finger is added; Suna does not hesitate in delving them deep into you, all the way to his knuckles. His thumb presses with purpose down onto your clit, harshly.

At the same time, he bites down on your breast. Harshly.

Starbursts and starlights, you saw fireworks. At least, you swear you saw fireworks.

You come undone so quickly and so easily that you have half a mind to feel embarrassed but you don’t, your mind has already left your mortal body and this dimensional plane.

Did you scream his name? A loud and reverberating ‘Suna!’?

You can’t be sure, you can barely see anything as the entirety of your body shudders, hips shaking and lifting, pushing against Suna’s hand as your orgasm runs its course.

Suna detaches himself from your now swollen breast with an erotic ‘plop,’ fingers continuing to work gently into you. Leaning up to prop one arm by your head, he stares down at you with a raised brow, amusement shining in his eyes on an otherwise blank canvas.

“Did you just scream for God?”

Your eyes close, face heating another two notches. Does his magic work on emotions like embarrassment too?

“Technically, the fox-folks do not have a God-”

You yank him down by the back of his head, interrupting his teasing. He smiles into the kiss before breaking it just as quickly, causing your head to tilt in confusion.

There is a sly smirk that came and went so fast that you aren’t sure if you imagined it. You felt the same tingling from when all this started again, this time beginning from your core where Suna still has his fingers stuffed into you. Your breaths begin to turn erratic as you feel another wave of his magic travel up your body.

He lays a deceivingly tender kiss on your other breast, glowing eyes never once letting go of your gaze, enrapturing you.

He murmurs softly into the peak of your breast, lips brushing against the sensitive tips of your nipples.

“I’m not done with you yet.”

You find it absolutely unfair that Suna can use his magic in this manner.

He took you apart multiple times with such ease that you want to feel vexed at how effortlessly he has you writhing under him, back arching and falling against stone, fingers scratching at him and nothing.

You tried, you really did, to reach out to touch him and grab his cock; to bring even a quarter of this pleasurable torture he’s laying on you to him but you can hardly lift your arm to do anything other than biting down on it.

Not that he would let you anyways, for he all but pushed you back down the first time you tried.

You’re glad you’re in the forest away from the village now. With how frequently and loudly you’re crying out for him, you would have woken the entire Inarizaki village.

(And then there’s the other part of you that wondered, why didn’t he use this magic on you sooner??)

And- oh dear, oh wow- when you thought he’s finally going to give you a moment’s reprieve from his expert hands, his mouth takes their place, leaving behind a line of kisses from the valley of your breasts.

His fingers were magic but the first lap of his tongue- long, slow, hard- up your drenched slit, you were a goner.

“Hnnh-”

You bite your lip to quell your cry, hands, and thighs clenching at Suna’s lazy lapping of your folds. Like he did with his fingers, he took his sweet time, savoring both the taste of you and this moment.

The night is long, and time is all the two of you have.

You can’t tell if his magic is still taking effect on you at this point. It doesn’t matter because your body has long crossed the threshold of overstimulation and- oh.

Suna runs the flat of his tongue up your slit in one extensive stroke, finishing with his mouth attaching to your clit. He sucks at it as one would suck at fucking jelly sticks and- crap, your legs feel like jelly too. They quiver, thighs trembling as they instinctively raise and squeeze together.

Suna grabs your thighs and tugs you back in, eyes leisurely watching you come apart for him another time.

He stopped his magic some time ago. He knows you can’t tell the difference anymore, not with the abandoned way your body writhed for him.

Your head rolls side to side, chest rising and falling harshly at the overwhelming pleasure besetting you for the nth time that night.

Eyes peeling open, you are graced with the sight of Suna, mouth and chin glistening with your essences and you finally manage to piece together one coherent thought.

You want to kiss him.

So you do, rising to press yourself against him, arms wrapping tightly around his neck. Your legs part themselves to pull him to you by the waist, quite insistently.

It’s truly unfair how, even though you were the one lavished with all the attention tonight, you still want more whilst he’s still so composed; in control.

Still, you couldn’t help feeling triumphant that when he finally slid into you, the tip of his cock pressing deep, he released a strangled groan into your neck, fingers digging into the flesh of your thighs and sweat running down his back, muscles straining.

You weren’t given any more respite after that, not that you were spared much to begin with.

The entire time he focused on your pleasure, he ignored his own desires and needs, disregarding the almost painful swell of it in favor of you.

But just because Suna is now feeding, chasing, his own carnal wants, doesn’t mean he has forgotten yours as his hand finds its way between your bodies to rub at your clit.

You squeal, legs splashing the water, which prompts Suna to hook one of your legs on his arm, keeping you pliant for him.

Everything is still extremely sensitive from the relentless orgasms he brought on you prior, and there was nothing you can do to stop yourself from moaning, wailing, equally as relentless as the thrusts of his hips, into the night.

Your eye is clear, and so is your mind. The aphrodisiac effect of his magic has long faded.

The only sounds that fill the dark forest are rustling leaves, Suna’s soft grunts, your garbled cries, sloshing water, and the echoing slap of skin on skin.

The moon is the only witness to your deeds.

You can feel it again, a heady and hot buildup in your aching core, stomach, and limbs tightening into a coil, winding tighter and tighter with each sink of Suna into you.

Suna’s own breathing is ragged, the veins of his hand bulging with the strength he is gripping your thigh.

He feels you squeezing and clamping on him, knows that you’re very close, so he throws both legs over his shoulders and completely pins you down to the boulder with his body.

When it hits, it doesn't just hit.

It explodes, and you think you might have blacked out from the intensity of it if Suna’s mouth didn’t slam on yours, hot and unyielding as he twirls your tongues together to the waves of your orgasms.

Suna presses his forehead to yours, both your bodies slicked and sticky with sweat and other things. You breathe his name, again and again, against his lips.

Your eyes are full of love, lips in bliss. And his are colored in warmth, as he lays tender kisses onto your loving eyes.

He pulls you upright alongside him once your breathing has settled, sitting you on the edge of the boulder.

You take the chance to nuzzle his nose as he chuckles.

“I suppose we need another bath.”

Laying in the grass with your head on Suna’s chest, you enjoy the light of the descending moon. You had decided to spend the night outside moon gazing with Suna instead of returning to his home; a replacement of sorts, for the picnic you couldn’t have.

Fingers drawing mindless patterns into his chest from where his robe opens up, you ask the question that has held your curiosity and insecurities for a long time.

“Do the fox-folks use the term boyfriend?”

“Boyfriend?” Suna tilts his head down to look at you questioningly, one arm propped behind his head.

“Yeah like...well, in my world, we use the terms boyfriend and girlfriend to refer to the people with whom we are in a romantic relationship with,” you explain, already knowing the answer, what with you having to explain it. Guess the fox-folks don’t use it…

“No, we do not have such a term. The fox-folks do not perceive relationships the same way as humans do. You know of our biological relationship with humans,” he answers simply.

“Y-Yeah...you’re right. It was a stupid question,” you mumble, burying your face into the folds of his clothes.

Noticing the way you retreated, Suna props himself on one elbow and sits up, causing you to rise as well.

“Why do you ask?” His brows draw together in thought, wondering what it is that troubles you.

Your fingers fidget nervously with your clothes, the grass, your hair. Do you tell him about your worries regarding your...differences? Then you remembered how, earlier in the night, everything just felt so much easier and better if you were honest with him about your thoughts.

“It’s just...I keep thinking about how different we are…” you mumble, pulling at your sleeves as you spill every worry and insecurity you ever had about being a human in love with a fox-folk. And Suna listens quietly and without interruption, as you did so.

He didn’t say anything for a moment after you finished, and you begin to worry again if you might have upset him somehow or opened a can of worms you should not have-

Suna takes your hands, entwining your fingers together and lifting them up in between you.

“Do you see this?” he asks, nodding at your joined hands.

“Uhm...yes?”

“What do you see?” he prods you further and your face twists in confusion.

“Our hands. Joined together,” you answer.

He nods, then continues.

“Do you see any differences between them?”

Besides the sizes…

“...no.”

“We’re not so different then, are we?”

He places your hand back in your lap, only to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear.

“You can call me your boyfriend if you want, if that makes you happy. I want to be your ‘boyfriend.’ Partner, mate, soulmate. Whatever you want to call it, I don’t care.”

His thumb caresses your cheek, eyes gazing into yours.

“I just want you.”

Suna barely smiles when he says the words but even without one, even with his face set in its regular dull cast, you couldn’t stop the well of emotions in your heart.

You sniff rather inelegantly, rubbing your eyes furiously before the waterworks can start.

Boyfriend, different cultures, different worlds...it truly doesn’t matter in the end. Suna helped you realize that.

You truly...are lucky to have him.

Not as a boyfriend or whatever label that society deems as necessary to put you all in boxes.

Just him, as he is.

If you enjoyed this, please do spare a reblog and check out the main story, Ghosts We See <33

#haikyuu x reader #suna x reader #suna rintarou x reader #inarizaki x reader #hq x reader #haikyuu!! x reader #hq!! x reader #suna x reader smut #suna smut #haikyuu smut #inarizaki smut #suna rintarou smut #suna rintarou #hq smut #haikyuu!! smut #hq!! smut

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yurtletheturtlehenderson · 3 years

Text

COSMIC - S1:E3; Chapter Three, Holly, Jolly - [Pt. 2]

A Will Byers x Male!Reader Series

𝘞𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘱 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘯𝘦𝘸 𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥, 𝘠/𝘯, 𝘔𝘪𝘬𝘦, 𝘋𝘶𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘯, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘓𝘶𝘤𝘢𝘴 𝘴𝘦𝘵 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘤𝘩 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘞𝘪𝘭𝘭. 𝘈 𝘩𝘰𝘳𝘳𝘪𝘧𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘥𝘪𝘴𝘤𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘪𝘴 𝘧𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘰𝘤𝘢𝘭 𝘲𝘶𝘢𝘳𝘳𝘺 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘳.

WARNINGS: Mentions of [lots of] blood, use of the 'f' word literally ONCE, uhh, I think that's it?

|| 𝟑𝐫𝐝 𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐏𝐎𝐕 ||

El sits on the floor of Mike's basement, back to the couch. Candy wrappers and crumbs were scattered around a finished puzzle of a beautiful green forest. The strange plastic ship, floating in the air in front of her. It suddenly drops to the ground as her attention is brought to the Supercomm on the couch. She picks up the device and clicks it on, bored with the static that comes from the other end, she soon abandons the device and stands up.

She walks up the steps, eager to explore the house more. When she reaches the top of the steps, she cautiously peeks around the corner. When she decides no one is home and the coast is clear, she continues to explore the house.

With the house to herself, she had more time to linger, and appreciate and explore. It was fascinating to her, and yet it made her sad. Could she have had a life like this? She didn't know what to think when she admired every object, every picture on the wall. There was one in particular that caught her eye.

It was a small photograph, but you could tell it was important. It was another picture of Mike and his friends. Only, they were younger. They were playing and splashing around in the water, a lake it looked like, surrounded by beautiful green trees. Each of them had an arm wrapped around each other forming a line, and their pants were rolled up to their knees.

The young boy on the very left had messy black hair, who El immediately recognized as Mike. He was smiling brightly at her from the picture. A young Lucas to his right, who wore a rather proud grin. Dustin was looking at the two, more specifically Lucas; he had been laughing when the photo was taken.

Will, she believed his name was, had one scrawny arm draped loosely around Dustin, however, he had his full attention on a very cheery looking Y/n who stood proudly showing off a very small frog to the camera. He had daisies on his head, tangled in his hair, and a gleaming smile showed off a missing tooth. He was holding the frog so delicately.

But it wasn't Y/n, or even Mike that caught her eye. It was the way Will was looking at Y/n. His eyes held a certain fondness and appreciation, his smile warm and genuine. El tilted her head ever so slightly, thinking. Something deep inside her was gnawing at her, a feeling that was foreign to her. Shaking her head, she moved on to the rest of the living room.

She went back to the funny chair Mike had shown her and took a seat. She reached over and pulled on the lever, sending her back and forth as it kicked her feet out. She looked around curiously as the chair rocked her back and forth.

El noticed the weird device on the table beside her and picked it up. It was a strange curved thing attached by a curly wire. It had many buttons, every one of them had a number on them. It let out a strange noise, barely audible from the top. She brought it up to her ear to listen to the endless monotone hum. Not knowing what else to do she mimicked the tone, just for fun before putting it back.

She stood up from the chair and sat herself down on her knees in front of the TV. Curious, she ran her fingers down the side until she felt the button and pressed it. A brief crackle of static rang out and as soon as it came on it was replaced with the voice of an older man, the screen lit up in front of her.

"...was occupying a large part of Lebanon. Today, Syria has become a home for-"

Click.

El pressed another button.

The moving picture on the screen changed, where many bright flashes of color dance across the screen. A fake man with yellow hair held a sword as he exclaimed.

"I have the power!"

Click.

"...gift that will last forever. From the Harmony Treasures' collection-"

Click.

A beautiful melody came from the TV set and El's eyes widened in surprise.

Click.

"On the beach and in the sun"

El froze. She recognized the rolling tin can that appeared on the TV. Her breathing began to quicken as she fought the memories back.

- 𝗙𝗟𝗔𝗦𝗛𝗕𝗔𝗖𝗞 -

The all too familiar humming and beeping of the machines echoed off of the cold, isolating walls. Eleven sat at the same table, with the same camera facing the same window with the same adults who watch her and study her. Nothing was new, and she feared nothing ever would be. All she wants is to go this over with. Wanting to get the damn wires off of her head.

Yet, she sat still, compliant, unmoving. Never taking her eyes off of Papa as she watched him hand the clipboard to one of the men and give her a nod of his head. She turned her head and attention to the small Coke drink. Her eyes bore into the empty can and she concentrated.

Her head shook ever so slightly as she focused, straining. It was difficult, but she was able to do it. The can caved into itself with a loud 'crack' and it wasn't until the monitors stopped did she realize how loud they had been. She looked back to Papa, looking for his approval.

He stood unmoving, a glimmer of satisfaction in his eyes. She felt her nose run damp, a warm liquid oozed from her nose. She blinked, confused and slowly brought her hand up to her upper lip, realizing she was bleeding. She looked to Papa, expectantly. He only smiled a cold empty grin.

- 𝗘𝗡𝗗 𝗢𝗙 𝗙𝗟𝗔𝗦𝗛𝗕𝗔𝗖𝗞 -

"Coke is it! Coke is it!"

El quickly pushed the first button, shutting the TV off. Breathing heavily, she stood up and made her way to the basement.

|| 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐏𝐎𝐕 ||

My back was beginning to hurt from hunching over for so long, but nevertheless, I continued looking. Lucas needs ammo for his wrist rocket, so naturally, the four of us were currently scouring the schoolyard for rocks.

"How about this one?" Mike asks, walking up to Dustin.

Dustin examines the rock Mike handed to him.

"Too big for the sling." He shrugs, tossing the rock to the grass. "So, do you think Eleven was born with her powers, like the X-Men, or do you think she acquired them, like... like Green Lantern?"

"She's not a superhero. She's a weirdo." Lucas says as he searches for that.

"You don't know that," I mumble, Lucas, however, doesn't hear me.

"Why does that matter? The X-Men are weirdos." Mike adds.

Lucas turns to Mike, agitated. "If you love her so much, why don't you marry her?"

I roll my eyes, and straighten up, stretching out my back.

"What are you talking about?" Mike sighs.

"Mike, seriously?"

"What?"

"You look at her all, like... 'Hi, El! El! El! El! I love you so much!'" Lucas teases, grabbing Mike in for a hug before getting down on one knee. "'Would you marry me?' I'm telling you, man, you're just as bad as Will!" He stood back up when he said the last-

'Wait...What?'

"What?" I asked, completely thrown off.

The boys freeze, Lucas especially. Lucas excluded, the boys all look at me with awkward smiles on their faces. Dustin chuckles and gives a still frozen Lucas a few pats on the arm.

"Good job, man. Real smooth."

"Guys, what is going on?" I asked exasperated, crossing my arms.

"Shit," Lucas whispers, closing his eyes.

"Lucas..."

Mike wears a triumphant grin on his face and looks expectantly at Lucas.

"Yeah, Lucas. Tell him."

Lucas sighs, and stiffly turns around, his change of attitude dramatic. He looks around once or twice before growing stern with me.

"You, and Will?" He suggests.

"What about us? What does that have to do with- Oh come on... You can't be serious. He does not like me."

"Literally everyone knows he is totally in love with you." He scoffs.

I scoff in return. "Love? Don't you think you're being a little dramatic? Not to mention, ridiculous?"

"Am I wrong?" He turns to the boys, who hesitantly shrug.

He turns back to me, a look screaming 'There you have it.'

"That doesn't prove anything! We're best friends! So what if we're close?"

He laughs. "Yeah, just as close as Nancy and Steve! And you're no better. You just haven't realized it yet."

"W-What? W-what ar- No!" My words are caught in my throat and I felt my cheeks begin to burn.

'No, I don't!'

It takes moments for me to recover. "Okay, let's say you're right. Let's say he does love me. How can you know for sure, huh? It's not like he told you!"

"Uhh, yeah! Might as well have. He didn't deny it!"

My heart stops, and I feel butterflies erupt in my stomach.

'Will? And me?'

"Look what we have here!"

'Oh, God. Not now.'

I roll my eyes and before I can stop myself I speak. "What do you want, Troll?"

My eyes widen at my sudden boldness but I remain confident. I stare down the two boys who have been bullying us for as long as we've attended this school.

"You better watch your mouth, freak-"

"Back off!" Dustin yells, cutting him off.

Troy looks over to Dustin, looking prepared to throw more insults at my brother but something changes his mind and he cools off. A smug smile tugs at his lips.

"Or what?" Troy spits.

Dustin falls silent, and Troy continues.

"Yeah, that's what I thought. What are you losers doing back here anyway?"

"Probably looking for their missing friend." Troy's goon laughs.

Anger begins to take over and my blood starts to boil.

"That's not funny. It's serious. He's in danger." Dustin immediately cuts in.

"I hate to break it to you, Toothless, but he's not in danger. He's dead. That's what my dad says."

'Where's that damn rock?'

"He said he was probably killed by some other queer."

I feel a lurch in my chest, and I can practically feel my vision going red.

"Come on. Just ignore them." Mike soothes, not only to me but to Dustin and Lucas as well.

He's right. I need to get out of here. I storm off, ready to shove him in the shoulder as I pass but suddenly I feel something catch my foot and I fall to the ground. A sudden wave of searing pain explodes on my chin when I hit the ground.

Dazed and confused, I push myself up enough to see a large, rather bloody rock just inches from my face.

I groan, rolling over on my back, I hear laughing and frantic footsteps.

"Y/n!" Dustin and Mike run over to me, Lucas storms up to Troy.

Dustin and Mike each grab an arm and help me sit up. I hesitantly bring a hand up to my chin and I hiss in pain. I look at my fingers and they are absolutely covered in blood.

'Holy crap.'

I groan and look to Lucas worried. He stands firm and tall, right up in Troy's face.

"Leave us. The fuck. Alone." He says through clenched teeth.

My eyes triple in size, surprised by Lucas's actions.

Troy and his friend laugh and walk away. Repeating Lucas in a mocking voice.

"You okay Y/n?" He reaches out his hand.

I gladly take it. However, I get a little lightheaded as I stand. "Shit, that's a lot of blood."

I look down and I see splots of blood already sprinkling my shirt.

'Great. This will be easy to explain to mom.'

"You still have that first aid kit?"

I close my eyes, sighing.

"Crap. No. I left it at Mike's." I sigh.

"We better get you to the nurse's office then."

"No, I-I'm fine." I sigh, wincing at the pain.

"Are you sure? You're bleeding, like a lot." Mike says.

"Yeah, I'm good. As long as I stop the bleeding, I'll be fine.. My body has always been able to heal quicker than most, anyways."

"He's right. I've seen it."

I offer a small smile. "Well, I at least better go get a tissue or something. I'll be right back." I say.

The boys nod, and I head off to the bathroom. My mind wanders back to what Lucas was telling me earlier, and the weird feeling in my stomach returns...

#you'll float queue #stranger things #will byers x reader #reader insert #will byers #dustin henderson #mike wheeler #lucas sinclair #cosmic #y/n henderson #stranger things x reader #x m!reader #m!reader #x male!reader #holly jolly

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bokettochild · 3 years

Note

For the fluff prompt thing, how about Time and Hyrule? Maybe something with fairies? Thanks!

I did some Fairy Hyrule for you, Anon!

Sorry I didn't get this done sooner, I've been busier than I expected since I opened up asks. I hope this is along the lines of what you wanted!

Time is safe.

When first he’d met all the other heroes, Hyrule had felt wary and uncertain. After all, it’s only in the castle and Mama’s cave that he’s ever known safety, and strangers are nearly always bad news if they’re being friendly with him.

And these strangers were very friendly.

Most of them had greeted him with smiles when he’d been dropped into their camp, their explanation being that a goddess of some kind wanted him to help them with something. Hyrule had never heard much about any goddesses, although he’d seen a statue or two in his travels, but most of the other people here seemed to know what was up, and they were only too eager to tell him.

And by too eager, he meant too eager. They were entirely too friendly with a stranger, and only two of them seemed interested in giving him his space: the one with the pink stripe in his hair and the one with lots of armor. He learns their names first: Legend and Time.

Legend is just as wary of him as he is of Legend, but Time... Time stares after him blankly, unreadable. Even so, the exotic taste of curiosity rolls across his tongue as a single royal blue orb stares at him, heavy and yet weightless.

Time is warm. Warm in a way that Hylians don’t know, that only the forest people and animals know. He is Safe, he is Comfort, and he is Known. Hyrule doesn’t know what it is, doesn’t know what makes the older hero so, but he finds that he is drawn to the man’s side, that he leeches comfort from him.

“Again?” The vet’s violet gaze is flat, but Time can see the warmth in it regardless.

During the night, Hyrule has become wrapped around Time as tightly as a limpet, and as the Vet stands over the two of them, looking down at where Time attempts to free himself from Hyrule’s grasp, he chuckles softly.

“Kid has an iron grip.” Time offers apologetically as he falls back on his bedroll, Hyrule’s sleeping form still clinging to him. “Sorry, legend, I don’t think I can take over watch as planned.”

The vet smirks. “Yeah, no. Rest, Old Man, he’s not letting you go until morning when he turns fairy pink when he wakes up.”

And Legend’s right, when Hyrule wakes up the next morning that is exactly what he does when Warriors starts teasing him, and while Time reassures the youngster that he doesn’t mind all that much, Hyrule looks utterly mortified.

“I don’t do that, not normally. It’s not safe to sleep close to other people.” The traveler whispers to legend on the road that day.

His mentor glances over at him knowingly. “Only people you don’t trust. Hasn’t Time earned your trust yet?”

“Has he earned yours?” Bushy brows pull together as Hyrule looks down at his friend.

Legend snorts a laugh, shoving his hands in his pockets absently. “Of course not, but I don’t really trust most folks, not about myself anyways. But you? You’re my successor, and if there’s one person I’d trust to look out for you if I couldn’t, it’d be the guy in a giant suit of armor who wields a sword that’s bigger than me. Least ways, he’s the least likely to get you killed.”

And Hyrule Knows, knows with a capitol ‘k’, that that means one thing in short: Legend trusts Time and Hyrule both, and he trusts both of them to take care of each other. That’s all he needs. Legend isn’t called the vet for nothing after all, and from what the two of them have seen, their worlds are the worst off and most dangerous, so if they both agree that Time is someone to be trusted, then he’s safe.

A whispering voice in his mind tells him he knew that already.

He’s woken up clinging to Time so many times in the morning, even if he wasn’t anywhere near the man when he fell asleep, that he’s given up trying to avoid it. Time seems to appreciate the warmth and contact as much as he does anyways, and the man always looks lighter in the mornings.

Hyrule wishes he was there now, curled up under Time’s arm and resting his head against the older man’s chest, breath coming deep and soft as sleep slowly seeps its way across his body. He wishes he was back in camp, holding on tight to someone and leaching heat off of them with a contented sigh. He wishes he could free his wings and rest against Time’s side while drinking sugar water and listening to the melodic hum of Time’s voice.

But he isn’t there. He isn’t with Time or the others. He’s stranded in Legend’s Hyrule, hiding out in the entrance to a dungeon with Four curled close to his side, the both of the shaking in the cold and wet as rain seeps down through the dungeon door to puddle at their feet.

It’s cold, and wet, and dark.

But at least the monsters can’t find them.

It’d been the work of mere minutes to defeat all the monsters in the room, and while they have a key and tool to pass on through the dungeon, that’s not their intent; the two small heroes just want a place out of sight and out of the rain while they figure out what to do.

Four sneezes.

“Did any of the others mention a camping spot?” Hyrule muses aloud, leaning back against the cold stone walls that line the room and trying to ignore the running of his own nose, or the puffiness of his face.

“Kakariko.” Four sniffles, rubbing his face and arms and fingers in an effort to warm up. “They said it was a couple hours yet though.”

Great. They’d fallen to the back of the group when Four had seen two minish trying to help one of their wounded friends over to a burrow. Naturally, Four had offered them help, and Hyrule had trailed along so Four wouldn’t be alone.

The minish village was only a quick dart away from the path, but by the time they had got back, they had found that the others had moved on and a couple ‘blins stood on the path instead. It took a bit of effort to kill the monsters, but once they were done and continued along the path, one thing after another had gone wrong, and they’d been left here; cold, alone, and with no way to hunt down the others in the sopping wet of the storm outside.

Four sneezed again.

“We need to find them.” Hyrule whispers softly, even though in the big room he knows that Four will hear it too. He doesn’t care. He’s cold and tired and his feet hurt from being cold and standing on stone floors for so long, and he really wants to be warm and safe again.

“We can’t.” Four sniffles softly, brows drawn in irritation as he wipes his nose for the nth time. “They didn’t leave a trail we can follow, and besides, they’re probably already looking for us, it’s been a few hours.”

“How will they find us if we’re in here though?”

“We churned up actual mountains of dirt to get in here when that Like-Like chased us down, they’ll notice.”

A smile flits across his face, even in their predicament, he can’t resist a light jab at his brother. “Were they actually mountains though? Or did they just look like it?”

Bright blue shimmers up at him. “I will come for your ankles if you say that again.”

Hyrule’s grin grows, and he’s about to respond, about to tell Four that of course it’s his ankles, the shorter hero can’t reach anything else, but then something brushes his senses. Something Safe, and Warm and Known.

“Time.”

“We haven’t even started fighting yet.” Four cocks a brow.

“No, Time’s coming.” Hyrule’s feet carry him to the door, steps light and head cocked on one side as if he was listening.

He’s not sure how he knows, how he feels it, but he does. Time is close, he’s getting closer every minute and-

Hyrule throws the door open and rockets into the warmth and safety that is Time’s arms, sighing in contentment as something within purrs happily at the closeness of the older man. Time is Safe. Time is Warm and Time is Known.

Warriors’ Hyrule is big.

The towns are bigger than anything Hyrule’s ever seen, even Hyrule Castle itself, and don’t get him started on the cities!

Hyrule felt very small standing in the market of Castletown.

People bustled to and fro, baskets on their arms, carts at hand, children and animals trailing behind and dust dirt and NOISE following them. It was really getting to be too much, and Hyrule was going to wear out the hem of his tunic in no time with the way he was rubbing at it.

Wars led the way through the town confidently, stopping to greet people and make exchanges as the rest of them followed after. Hyrule really wished Wars had agreed to take the non-suffocating and anxiety triggering path to Hyrule Castle, but he hadn’t said as much and Wars had already said they needed supplies.

It would be fine; he could hold out a bit longer. He couldn’t.

The others followed Warriors’ lead, Sky keeping holf of Legend and Four both while Wind kept close to Wild. It was important they didn’t let the smaller members of their party be caught up in the crowd, but some of them looked torn between hating being watched like kids, and taking comfort in the security of it all.

Oh man, Hyrule would love nothing more than to switch places with them. Sky was always warm and safe, even if he was mighty trusting, and Twilight’s big hands always enveloped everyone else's so that they felt secure in knowing they wouldn’t be pulled away.

Delicate fingers unconsciously reached out and caught hold of the hand beside them.

Time started at the contact, gaze traveling quickly down to where Hyrule’s small hand had caught hold of his own, broken nails and calloused finger pads clutching tightly against his own weathered skin. The traveler hung close, tucked in on himself and shying away for contact with strangers.

The image of a small boy dressed in green trying to weave through a bustling town, his fairy hidden in his hat so she wouldn’t be lost as he was jostled and knocked into by strangers and possible enemies and people who stared and watched and bumped.

Time clasped the hand in his a bit firmer, watching with satisfaction as Hyrule’s shoulders relaxed slightly.

Warm. Safe. Known.

Time gasped awake, eyes flying wide open as harsh breaths surged through his lungs to catch in his throat and make him gasp for air. He didn’t know at what point he’d sat up, didn’t know when he’d turned his gaze over to survey their camp, blue eyes trailing over sleeping forms and mind frantically counting the young heroes around him.

Wind curled up on top of Wars.

Two.

Four nestled between Twilight and Wild (a good place, they both slept hot).

Five.

Hyrule curled up next to Legend’s empty bedroll, Sky just a few feet away, lost in the folds of his sail-cloth.

Seven.

Legend, sitting with his back to the flames as he watched Time, sword bare across his equally bare knees.

Eight.

“You okay, old man?” The vet raised one brow, expression almost judgemental if you didn’t know him, eyes lidded and scowl set.

Time didn’t answer. Shivers wracked his frame, cloudiness refusing to leave his mind as his thoughts and emotions swirled within.

Safe. Home. Safe. Home.

He wanted to be safe. He wanted to be home. He wanted to blink awake in his own treehouse with Navi scolding him for sleeping in, and then run down to the fields to play with Malon and Epona.

He wanted Navi to pinch his ear and tell him that he should have known better than to sleep without a blanket.

He wants Navi to curls up in his hair and Sing.

Time doesn’t process what he’s doing, but Legend watches in surprise as the man grips ahold of his blanket and softly creeps over to the others. Legend’s empty bedroll is as cold and firm as a rock, but Time doesn’t seem to even notice that it’s there, curling up around Hyrule with a sigh that says he’s not entirely awake.

Soft lights shimmer over the pair as Time drifts off again, the creases of his brow smoothing as the warm and constant buzz of Hyrule’s soft snores washes over him.

Legend sighs, stretching his legs and looking up at the sky.

He’ll just sleep on Time’s bedroll tonight he supposes.

#linkeduniverse #linked universe #lu time #lu hyrule #lu four #lu legend #fluffics #one shot request #requests #fic requests

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bumblesimagines · 3 years

Text

Green Thumb

Part 20

Request: Yes or No

"Time travel sounds fun until you see how cringy you used to be." You said, watching Nebula fix some things on the suit Scott had on.

"I've never been cringy." Scott said. You stayed silent in response, glancing at Rhodes. Scott blinked, scoffing softly as you giggled.

"You're great, Scott." You gave a tired smile. Bruce went to put in the red capsules.

"Hey- Hey, be careful!"

"I'm being very careful." Bruce replied.

"No, you're being very Hulky." Scott put in the capsules himself. Even if Bruce was careful, he could still crush whatever was in there without even thinking about it. It was weird seeing Bruce in Hulks body but you supposed it helped end the beef they had. Scott and Bruce went back and forth until he turned small and big in a second.

"Alright, one test run." Scott gave a sheepish smile, glancing at everyone in the room. "I'm not ready for this."

"I'm game." You turned your head, looking at Clint. You crossed your arms, a soft sigh leaving you.

"I'll do it." Clint shrugged. Scott licked his lips, looking at Bruce. Bruce gave him a small nod so Scott walked out of the room to change out of the suit. Clint followed.

"So.. He got a new tattoo." Rhodes glanced at you. You licked your lips, shrugging lightly. Rhodes sighed, leaving the room momentarily before returning with some twizzlers. He offered one to you, giving a small smile. You took it, taking a small bite from it as Clint walked into the room with the suit on. Nebula made sure everything was good with the suit.

"Clint, you're gonna feel a little discombobulated from the shift. Don't worry about it." Bruce told him.

"Wait, wait.. Let me ask you something. If we can do this, you know go back in time, why don't we just find baby Thanos and just.." Rhodes made a wrapping and squeezing motion.

"I mean, it's a solid idea. Baby Thanos was probably real ugly anyways." You said, chewing on the candy. Bruce stared at you and Rhodes in disbelief.

"First of all, that's horrible-"

"It's Thanos."

"And secondly, time doesn't work that way. Changing the past doesn't change the future."

"We go back and get the stones before Thanos gets them.. Thanos doesn't get the stones!" Scott said, shrugging. Rhodes nodded, motioning to him.

"Problem solved!"

"Bingo." Clint nodded as Nebula glanced at them, giving a small shake of her head.

"That's not how it works." She muttered.

"Anyways, who told you that?"

"Star Trek, Terminator, Time Cop, Time After Time, Wrinkle in Time, Hot Tub Time Machine-"

"So, any movie with time in the name." You said with a chuckle.

"Well, it doesn't work like that. If you travel to the past, that past becomes your future and your former present becomes your past." Bruce explained. You hummed, continuing to munch on the twizzler.

"If time travel works.. That means there's different versions of ourselves in different.. Dimensions, right? Like living things we've lived and making decisions we'll eventually make?"

"Yes, actually." Bruce nodded, glad that at least someone was getting it.

"For example, my past self might be in Sokovia fighting Ultron right now while my future self might be relaxing on a beach." Bruce said with a shrug. You hummed, nodding.

"I wonder what my future self is doing.."

"Probably getting therapy instead of napping and drinking." Rhodes muttered, glancing at you. You scoffed softly.

"You drink?" Clint questioned, brows furrowing as a frown tugged at his lips. You shifted your gaze back to the man you used to call dad and shrugged.

"Occasionally." Once the suit was good to go and Bruce had told Clint everything he needed to do, you followed the guys and Nebula to the platform Rocket had built. It was surprising how much a raccoon could built. You glanced at Thor, giving him a small nod. Bruce walked up to the controls, the others standing behind him as they watched Clint stand in the center.

"Alright, Clint.. We're going in three.. Two.." You could tell Clint was nervous, you were too. Despite everything, he had still been someone who took you in and loved you. You slowly chewed on the twizzler, gaze flickering around the platform. To Clint it could feel like hours but it would merely be seconds for you and the others. Clint suddenly appeared, falling on the ground. The helmet retracted as he panted. Natasha quickly rushed up onto the platform with you following incase he had injuries. Natasha helped him up, getting him grounded as Clint looked around.

"I saw her... I saw Lila again.." Clint panted. You stared at him, swallowing as your grip on the twizzler tightened. Clint tossed a baseball glove at Tony, nodding.

"It worked." Clint said. A sense of relief filled you along with everyone. There was a chance at getting everyone back. The team turned, heading to an office in order to talk more and come up with a game plan. You finished your twizzler, taking a seat and watching Tony pull up pictures of the stones.

"We gotta find out the when and the where." Steve said, looking over all of the stones.

"Almost everyone in this room has had at least one encounter with an infinity stone." Steve turned his attention onto everyone. You supposed Vision counted as an encounter.

"Or substitute encounter by being damn near killed by one of the stones." Tony added, shrugging as he sipped on his coffee.

"I haven't." Scott piped in. "I have no clue what the hell you're talking about."

"Regardless, we only have enough pinparticles for one trip each and these stones have been in a lot of different places throughout history." Bruce said, slowly walking around the office.

"Our history." Tony reminded him. "So, not alot of convenient spots to drop in."

"Which means we'll have to pick our targets." Clint muttered. Tony nodded, shooting him the side eye. You cocked a brow when you made eye contact with Tony. Tony simply patted your shoulder.

"Let's start with the ether. Thor, what do you know?" Steve asked, everyones' attention shifting onto the god of lighting. Thor sat in a corner, coke bottle in hand and sunglasses on.

"Is he asleep?" Natasha asked after Thor didn't answer. You stared at him. The last five years had definitely been rough for him.

"Pretty sure he's dead." Rhodes mumbled. You sighed, reaching forward and grabbing a cup of water. You made it turn ice cold before tossing it at the god. Thor jolted awake, looking down at his wet shirt.

"Thor, the reality stone. What do you know about it?" Steve asked again, watching him stand and approach the picture of the reality stone. You listened to Thors' rambling, turning to look at Tony. Scott was the only one interested in what he had to say. Tony approached him, urging him to sit.

"Alright.. Who's next?"

~~~~~~~~~~

You stared at the pictures. Three stones in New York, one in Asgard, and the other two in Morag. You looked at Steve as he approached the hologram.

"Alright, we have a plan. Six stones, three teams. One shot." Steve said. You swallowed, glancing at Rocket and Thor. You had been assigned on their team. Just in case. You stood up with the others, going off to change. You stared at the two pictures in your locker. One of the Barton family and the other of the Stark family. You headed towards the platform after changing, standing beside Thor and Rocket.

"Stay safe." Natasha said softly, giving your arm a squeeze. Steve gave a pep talk before you put your helmet on. You absolutely hated the feeling as you went through what looked like a blue tunnel. When you blinked, you were in Asgard. Thor held a finger up to his lips, passing by a room. You followed, glancing back and seeing his brother. You had never officially met Loki but he was an odd dude. You reached a hall, standing besides Thor. You listened to the women talk in the hall. You shared a look with Rocket.

"There's Jane." Thor whimpered, shaking his head. Rocket sighed.

"Alright.." Rocket hopped off the stone block, looking at you and Thor.

"You're gonna charm her, (Y/N) will be our lookout, and I'll poke her with this thing, get the stone, and we'll be gone." Rocket said, watching Thor. You gave a nod but Thor sniffled.

"I'll be right back. The wine cellar is just down here. My father used to have this huge barrel of ale." You stared at Thor, letting out a sigh as you scratched your forehead. You heard a door opening and quickly ducked besides Rocket.

"Yes, and could you also let me know when Gaia plans on visiting again?" You blinked, feeling your body freeze. You slowly stood, glancing at Thor as he slowly walked down the hall, gaze on the woman.

"Who's the fancy woman?" Rocket asked, hopping onto the stone. You swallowed, turning your head and looking at the woman.

"That's my mother..." Thor answered. Your eyes slightly widened, turning to face Thor. You opened your mouth to ask him a question.

"She dies today." Thor whispered. You shut your mouth, frowning. You licked your lips, gaze flickering around.

"How.. How does she know Gaia?" You asked softly. Thor glanced at you with furrowed brows.

"She was a friend of my mothers'." Thor answered. He looked back at where his mother had been, shaking his head.

"I can't do this." He breathed out, beginning to pant softly. You and Rocket faced him. Rocket told Thor to get closer as Thor rambled. You blinked as Rocket slapped him, almost laughing at the sight of a raccoon slapping a god.

"You think you're the only one who lost people? What do you think we're doing here? I lost the only family I ever had. Same with nature boy over here. I get you miss your mom, but she's gone. Really gone and there are plenty of people who are kind of gone. You can help them. So is it too much to ask that you brush the crumbs out of your beard, talk to the girl, and when she's not looking, suck the infinity stone and help us get our families back?" Rocket stared at him. Thor nodded, a small whimper leaving him as his eyes watered.

"Thor, calm down." You said softly, placing a gentle hand on his arm. "You're the god of lighting, Thor. You can do this."

"Yeah, yeah, I can." Thor nodded. You gave him a small smile, following Raccoon towards the door. You turned, hearing footsteps rushing away. You sighed.

"He's gone." You muttered. Rocket groaned softly.

"You go after him. I'll go get the stone." Rocket said, turning around and walking towards the room.

"I don't know this place." You huffed, looking at the talking raccoon. Rocket let out an exasperated sigh.

"Be my lookout." He mumbled. You walked towards the room Jane was in, watching Rocket enter. You stood infront of the doors, gaze flickering around. You had no idea what you were gonna do if somebody asked you what you were doing. You swallowed, glancing in the direction Thors' mother had gone in.

"He'll be fine." You assured yourself, speedwalking in the direction. You spotted Thor, quietly walking towards him.

"Thor-"

"Shh." He brought up a finger to his lips. Thor grabbed you, keeping you hidden behind the pillar as his mother passed by. She dismissed her girls. You and Thor peeked around the corner.

"What are you doing?" You flinched, letting out a yelp as a woman yelped as well. You turned and faced her, watching her look at Thor. Thor suddenly grabbed you, covering you with his jacket.

"You're better off leaving the sneaking to your brother." The woman said, head tilting.

"What are you wearing? Who is this?" She asked, stepping forward. You swatted Thor's arm away, clearing your throat.

"Uhm, I'm- I'm (Y/N)." You said. Rocket was gonna kill you.

"Frigga." She gave a polite smile. "What are you wearing?" Friggas' brows furrowed, looking Thor over. Frigga slowly approached her son, placing a hand on his cheek. Thor rambled slightly. Frigga smiled softly.

"You're not the Thor I know, are you?" She asked softly.

"Yes I am."

"The future hasn't been kind to you, has it?" She gently brushed some hair out of his face. You watched her, gaze softening. You could see why Thor loved his mother so much. They shared a tight hug, something Thor had desperately needed.

"Let's talk." Frigga smiled. You tuned out as Thor spoke to his mother. You walked around her room, looking over the glass. You licked your lips, looking over at them.

"How do you know Gaia?" You asked softly. Frigga turned to look you curiously.

"Like, uhm, Thor told me but I.. I wanna know more." You said, facing her. Frigga tilted her head, slowly approaching you.

"Gaia? What would you want with her?"

"She's my mother and she.. She kind of abandonded me." You shrugged lightly, letting out a small awkward laugh. Frigga hummed, gaze softening.

"Gaia's in.. It's hard to explain. She's in The Garden. She lives there and it's how she watches over her creations." Frigga explained.

"How do I get there?"

"Fairy rings. Only certain people have access to her portals." Frigga said. You nodded, keeping it in mind. Thor stood, approaching you and his mom.

"Mother, I must tell you something-"

"No, Thor." Frigga turned to face her son, pressing a finger to his lips.

"Mother-"

"Guys!" Rocket shouted, running towards you. "You were supposed to watch the door!"

"I know." You gave an apologetic smile. Rocket shook his head, showing the stone.

"I got it." He breathed out. "Oh, hey, you must be mom."

"I wish we had more time." Thor said softly. Frigga smiled gently, grabbing his hands.

"This was a gift. Now you go and be the man you were meant to be." Frigga said softly. Thor gave her a sad smile.

"I love you, mom."

"I love you." Frigga hugged Thor tightly. She pulled back and smiled. Rocket began to count but Thor stopped him. He extended his hand towards the balcony area. You and Rocket shared a look.

"W-What are we looking at?" He asked.

"It takes a second." Frigga chuckled softly. Thors hammer returned to him, making him beam. You smiled softly as the suit returned.

"Nice meeting you." You said.

"Same here." Frigga smiled, giving a small wave. The helmet came on and you went back through the nauseating blue tunnel. You grunted, shutting your eyes tightly.

"Yeah, fuck that." You muttered, rubbing your forehead. You looked around, noticing Clint fall to his knees with teary eyes.

"Where's Nat?"

~~~~~

Tags: @geek-and-proud @wolfelocksley @babyvisionisamenace @jjk-is-my-shit

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lazycheesecakeee · 3 years

Text

Stray kids as love languages

Ok so I started thinking and that’s never good and somehow this got CHUNKY AF :))) But I hope you enjoy reading my messy thoughts about skz expressing love :)

Bang Chan

Giving: Gifts/Words of affirmation

Yeah SO… we all know how he always seems to always give the closest people to him, like everything, including the moon and a fucking rocket to the moon as well, and build it too, that before he gets anything at all? He is definitely a giver. He buys food, drinks, anything.

Anything you would accomplish, no matter how small would be an excuse for him to go out and buy you a meal and while you are there, if you only happen to glance at something twice, you already have it? Yeah you might feel bad and try to pay or say “stop giving me things all the time” but he would not stop and he would buy you the thing and shower you with praises for how well you did, even if you think it is not such a big deal.

You have a normal day when nothing happened? You go to the store together, he pays. He comes to visit you randomly. On the way he buys a flower and a random chocolate or a drink because he remembers somehow that you said you wanted to try it like 3 months ago. And the list never ends. He has a good sense for what people want too. So if you are close to him he gives you EVERYTHING. Showers of praises and all of his fucking money :)))) BOY HAS NO LIMITS.

Receiving: words of affirmation

Listennnn, as much as he gives and never stops, like NEVER. (Take his credit card away lmaoooo), when you acknowledge his little appreciations and thank him sweetly or give him a hug to let him know you are grateful, he gets immense satisfaction. I feel like he is the one to give but if he feels like he is used in the slightest he definetly cuts the rope short real FUCKING FAST.

I feel like he def is SUCH a sucker for appreciation and words of affirmation AND COMPLIMETS. He wants to feel needed and like his efforts are worth it. And giving him the verbal queue that his efforts don’t go unnoticed, that despite his busy schedule you appreciate the time with him, that his hard work and struggles to be the best are worth it, that the nights in the studio are fruitful and he is doing a good job, THAT would really make his entire day and his anxieties dissipate. Let him know he is wanted. Poor baby someone give him a sleep schedule too and some melatonin :)))))

Lee Know/Minho

Giving: Acts of service

He def strikes as one weird cranky, moody, annoying bitch with his behaviour but if you pay closer attention he is actually so observant and thoughtful/caring. He seems like you would not want to go to him for things but I actually think that if you take the time and grow close to him he is one of the most caring and protective people tbh.

Like it’s in his nature to pay attention to what close ones are doing, their schedules, interests and habits. He is the kind of person to never purposefully say or make a fuss out of doing something but somehow he knows you need something or you want something. And he buys the thing and puts it in the fridge. Or changes the sheets because he feels you are too sad and unmotivated and that would be good. Or buys something definitely because “he wanted it” but gets more, and a side of the thing you like a lot, because “it was there”, definitely not because he thought of you and that it would bring you joy. Or he would like pick a prescription for you or refill your water bottle before leaving or tell you to bring band-aids because you complained those shoes hurt you. Or tell me this boy would not chop the onions for the pasta sauce so you don’t ruin your mascara (I am not sobbing you are). And he somehow fits himself in and things add up so well and your life is so much easier despite him claiming he „did nothing”.

Receiving: Words of affirmation

Although it doesn’t seem like it, something tells me it’s true. I read on an internet thing that people that seem cold and don’t want/seem to have the need for verbal affirmation and validation from strangers get actually more satisfaction from it than people who say it explicitly.

He also def strikes me like he was raised to be tough, to recover fast, to not be a cry baby and just get up and do the job, suck it up, be strong and independent. A little bit of trust issues into the mix as well ☹ You can actually kinda see a sort of anxious behaviour type of thing in him. So I feel like if you actually grow closer to him (ahem Jisung), acknowledging his efforts and how he makes your life easier, THAT would bring out the asshole being like “oh really? Hm interesting you think I do so much for you huh?” but he actually does thooo and you saying it would bring him like so much joy and make his heart happy.

Like each time you give him a compliment TM he would act like “yeah I know” or act disgusted but high key it soothes his spirit and ego when you say such things. He just loooves to hear how much you loved something he cooked or how attractive he was while dancing or how he was really thoughtful, and you appreciate it sm. He seems to have the nature to give, and he seems to expect to go unnoticed but when and if you do acknowledge his heart is actually swooning over it.

Changbin

Giving: Physical touch/Gifts

I think he would be the type to bring weird things to you for no reason along with 1000 kisses and a hug that is a bit too tight you know? Like his mind gets occupied with you if you are close.

And like he saw this weird card at the store or a little figurine or something which has a weird patters and he thought “Hm they must see this. They would like this strange ass thing I bought which was overpriced”. And when he gives you the thing you give like an odd smile and in your eyes is a „love you but wtf is this” and he would take your hands and look down and kiss them and say “I don’t know i thought you might like it?” And you would tease each other and he would start doing ayego and get really shy and just hug you again and place his head in your neck to avoid the eye contact, then lift you up and spin you and from there you have no chances of escaping the embrace TM.

Receiving: Physical touch

I feel like he would be a sucker for physical touch as your love language as well. If you reciprocate hugs, kisses and stuff. You know he seems like the kind to find comfort in holding you for no reason, like a hand on the knee or on your waist and if you two are comfy and give him little pets, stroke his hair, place your hand on his shoulder or biceps or take his hand with both yours or grab his middle randomly, he would swoon. Also you clinging to him and letting him cling to you I think is like thing he wishes for most tbh:) I feel like he feels safety and love by holding onto you and you onto him like he can protect you. He would like to know you trust him with that, ya know? Like he is a strong bitch ready to fight anyone coming at you and can protect you but is also your smol koala child which you can never escape.

Hyunjin

Giving: physical touch

Now this might seem weird to you BUT. He seems like he touches people out of nowhere sometimes and kinda clings. Not like all the time but enough. Like he likes being really close to you if he is close to you, you know?. He would be all up in your face with his weird ass mannerisms and humour but if they are reciprocated and he feels safe and good around you he naturally starts to cling if that makes sense? Like in a way a sort of telling others: “mine, you cannot have them before me” but also in the sense that you know he would do anything for you if you ask in those instances. Like YO, you have me, soul and body next to you, I am here :)))

Like he doesn’t seem like the type to buy things a lot (cheap ass I see you :)))) although he would sometimes) But he makes up by being there and encouraging you despite not knowing how to act or what to say all the time, he lets you know you can count on him and he is there. I feel like his touch expresses appreciation.

Receiving: words of affirmation/quality time

He strikes me as attention demanding lmao:)) OH I am yours pay attention to me I am your baby I require love and affection, undivided.

So if you make time to have lunch with him or have conversations before bed in peace (my dude seems like his thoughts overwhelm him all the time and honestly same :/ it’s kinda yikes tbh), or watch a movie/tv show, or just be in his presence when he is both excited or down, and listen to him rant and give him solutions or rant with him about random subjects and jumping around between them subjects, you would get all the uwus and he would probably be ready to dedicate his entire existence to your well being and desires.

He is just like that, a dramatic ass with overly changing emotions who wants a good connection, like a genuine one, where hours go by and someone truly understands him and things flow, ya know? (seems like the type to believe in fate type of love, which I find interesting)

Han Jisung

Giving: Physical touch/ Words of affirmation

He seems really touchyyyyy TM. But like in the way that shows physical affection because he seems a little insecure? That is kinda what he strikes me as. Like he wants to hold you. He wants to show you have him. He wants to be appreciated :( my child (and bias) help me I am sobbing:))) and he wants to make sure you know he appreciates you just as much.

Like he would hold your hand, hug you a lot or place random kisses and linger in those places? An he would compliment you and tell you your work is amazing and that he is proud and he would make lots of idiotic jokes to cheer you up, no matter the mood (we stan crackhead humour in this household) and he would tell you the most random shit he likes about you. Like “I like your socks” or “you changed your bag” or “the perfume is oddly floral just like your shirt and I like it”.

And he would make random short freestyle raps (kill me now I am in too deep) about you or a random thing you are doing. And he would just linger around you when you are busy and can’t give him attention. He wants to show trust and love through little gestures and trusts you to see them as a sign of his love because you make him happy and all.

Receiving: ALSO Physical touch/words of affirmation idk

I feel like he would like physical touch back? Like he would be fine if you didn’t like it, but like since he is like anxious and (to me) seems like a little overly aware of his “flaws and deficiencies”, he would like to know he has your “hold”. Like some sort of security type of thing.

Like small gestures, your hand on him, a little kiss, a hug, a squish :))), a little grip of reassurance and a nod of “you are doing good”. I think he would be a sucker for that. And also despite him lowkey rejecting your compliments like “yeah I know I am the best”, giving it to him would boost his self-esteem a lot, as I think he has many insecurities and quite a few complexes that are hard to express for him. So that, along with your touch and words to reassure him, he would love and get the idea that you want him close too, that he’s desired enough for you to seek his love, something like “you my dude are seen and loved for who you are”.

Felix

Giving: Giving gifts/Physical touch

He is defiantly a giver. He literally seems like he is so thoughtful and cares so much. Like we all know how his fellow members said he is great at gifts. Well duh. I feel like his gifts are not always big but like a small food or drink he brings because he knows you always love it, a flower he saw in the front of a flower shop he thought was pretty. Something you said you needed (or you didn’t say) but he knows you do need it because he just pays that much attention. A pendant necklace. A ring. A small ice-cream because the day is hot so why not. A donut that had flower sprinkles because you like to post aesthetic foods and so on. You name it. They would not be obnoxious, but it would sure show how much you are occupying his thoughts.

We also always know how he is attached to the hip to the people he is close to and he loves skinship. He said he loves back hugs, hugs, kisses he wants it all:)) So he gives plenty of cuddles for sure. You can never escape the octupus arms as you go to sleep each night, so might as well set up the air conditioning in your house as it’s about to get warm but affection and love above all, right? :)))))))

Receiving: Words of affirmation/Physical touch

I think he thrives if you return his little ministrations of affection. Does it matter? A hug, a kiss, holding him, a little massage, hand size comparison, throwing yourself on top of him on the couch or the bed at the end of the day. He LOVES it. You are also competing with Chan lol but no worries, he has plenty affections for all:))

Also I think he needs reassurance and a sense that people that are closest are proud of what he is doing(wipe your tears bitch). So I think acknowledging his hard work and the fact that he pulls through despite certain mental heath problems and telling him he does an amazing job and complementing his work would definitely mean a lot to him.

But give the boy your affection, A VerY tOucHy BoI. It makes his heart swell with joy knowing you pull him close and feel so much love for him that you don’t hold back from giving. Be an octopus with him tambien😊

Seungmin

Giving: Acts of service

Another one for acts of service. Our smol good boi which somehow does not seem smol at all because he exudes maturity and rationality lmao.

He would be such a servant if he loves you. AND YOU WOULD NOT EVEN NOTICE at first. Like I feel like he does stuff in a way similar to Minho where he makes sure your life is as easy as can be. Like puts your shoes out of the way, checks the weather so you don’t leave dressed inappropriately (forces you to take the puffier jacket despite it not going with your outfit, because “do you want to catch a cold, hm?”), gives you an umbrella. Fixes a random necklace which you broke by accident because he knows it will sit there for like 3 years if it’s in your care, and you like the necklace 😊. Makes sure you eat something healthy too(would definitely bring you washed and cut-up fruits after going out to eat at mcdonalds). And he for sure does not expect you to really notice, but if you do he is getting flustered and runs out the room with a big smile😊 what a baby tm.

Receiving: Acts pf service

I feel like he would appreciate most if you also took time out of your day to ease his life too. I feel like he would feel such relief and happiness and his heart would swell with affection and appreciation if you took on one of his (no matter how insignificant) tasks. Like he would be in a rush to leave and you woke up earlier before work to make him a coffee. Or when he comes home late you already put his clothes on the bed and prepared a bath. Or getting up and asking for extra napkins if he was not given any, or simply asking how can you make his day better. I feel like being helpful and listening and paying close attention to him would be what makes him happiest.

I.N./Jeongin:

Giving: Quality time/Gifts

He gets awkward when he tries to express feelings with words and is def not the most fond of skinship. However, I think if you were close he would be an amazing listener and sit with you and you could both share and grow together so much. He would give you the feeling he is ready to listen and be with you if you need him.

That and also I feel like when you are out and about it makes him feel good to know he can buy you things you can enjoy, and you are appreciative of them and he has that power to brighten your day and be a mature adult by buying you things, despite not really needing them sometimes.

Receiving: Quality time/Words

You know how he struggled a bit with the dancing at first and you know how the other members say that he does nothing when someone criticizes him, he just goes out of his way to fix his “mistakes”? And also in Vlive when he said he doesn’t like to watch his own fancams because all he sees are his mistakes? My baby seems to have a bit (quite some) of an imposter syndrome and since he is young and everyone teases him, although with love, I feel like it gets a bit uncomfortable and tough. He seems he just wants to keep up, and be the best at what he does but it gets tough when you have to catch up with people who have been doing the thing for many more years than you and you are struggling with your feelings and figuring things out as you grow within a demanding contract. So I think someone to listen to his worries and give him undivided attention without judgement and put in their input without being intrusive would be the most amazing thing to him. That, along with compliments and acknowledgement of his efforts, telling him that he is doing GOOD and you are proud (although he might think that you are just saying it, since he seems to only see ways he needs to improve) would be good at raising his self esteem and encourage him to continue with his hard efforts.

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