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frost-queen · 6 months

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Tempting fate // part 3 (Reader!Featherington x Colin Bridgerton)

Forever tag:@missmelodramatic, @merlin-dahlia, @alex--awesome--22, @elllie-does-the-posts, @floatlosers, @merlieve, @queen-of-books, @glimmering-darling-dolly @denkisclown, @wildieflower, @meyocoko, @bubblybrianna, @justanothercoco, @subjecta13-thefangirl, @m-rae23, @harleyquinnswifeyfrfr, @swampthing07, @melsunshine, @panhoeofmanyfandoms, @venomsvl, @the-uncoordinated-house-cat, @rosecentury, @imagines-by-her, @evilcr0ne, @vviolynn, @iixchloee, @cherrysxuya, @dutifullyannoyingfox, @wolf-phoenix-lover, @mellowdreamlandpost-blog, @markive-m, @esposamultifandom, @mswwvaleska, @itsalyssadawnuniverse, @magical-spit, @winter-solstice24

Summary: Penelope tries her effort into turning Colin's eye to her. Realization hits you as you have a hunch of who the writer of Lady Whistledown is. Bad blood brewing between sisters. [ part 1 & part 2 & part 4 & part 5 & part 6 & part 7 & part 8 & part 9 & part 10]

You had excused yourself from Colin, heading back inside. Where the warmth wrapped around you like a blanket. The loud muttering deafening out your clear hearing. A pair of dancers almost knocked you over when you rushed by. Coming to the window, where you had spotted your sister, she was gone. The spot empty. Looking around suspiciously, you wanted to know where she had gone too. Some bystanders glanced your way, whispering as you ignored them.

You could care less about them. Getting on the tips of your toes, you tried to overlook a few high heads. With your sister’s new wardrobe it wasn’t easy to spot her. Her bright colours exchanged for more plain colours. Blending more easily with the others. Turning your head, your eyes widened brief seeing that Colin had returned inside.

Looking searchingly around as well. You dropped your feet flat on the ground, lowering in height. Ducking a bit, you didn’t want Colin to find you. Some lords pulled their noses up at your curious and suspicious behaviour. Finding your way to the crowd lowered as if you were looking for a lost earing.

Lifting your head a bit, you came in contact with Benedict Bridgerton. He sat down, mouth half stuffed with a sweet, the half bitten part in his hand. You smiled sheepishly at him. Benedict moved his free hand to the side, pointing. You followed his point seeing him point at your mama. You thanked him with a nervous smile.

Straightening your back a bit, you walked off casually. Benedict quirking his eyebrow up at your strange, but funny acting. You pretended to make your way over to mama, till you hopped aside, disappearing into the crowd. Where ever could she be? Looking left and right. Then your eyes locked. Pinpointing her.

She stood by the walls, her dance card dangling down her wrist. Her gaze was focused elsewhere. Not far from her stood a group of ladies. Chattering away. Your sister tilting her head a bit, as if being able to hear better. Her expression emotionless. Silently you made a big turn around to reach her out of surprise.

You reached the walls, practically glueing yourself to it. Your reputation was already ruined by gossip, so you could care less for your mischievous acts. Quietly you approached her. Coming to stand beside till she noticed the company that had joined her. She glanced at you. – “Are you not dancing sister?” – you asked gesturing at the dancers. Penelope kept looking in front of her. – “I am trying not to draw any attention to myself.” – she replied. – “I saw you with Colin earlier.” – she added leaning a bit to you.

You clasped your hands together below, leaning a bit forwards. – “What a keen observation sister.” – you answered with a hint of sarcasm. You caught her looking, smiling intentionally at her. Penelope smiled back at you. In silence you both stood, looking away from each other. For the first time in forever it felt awkward standing with your sister. As if being near a stranger. You became aware of some curious eyes once more.

Seeing their heads come together to whisper and gossip. Ladies and lords probably discussing your purity. It hurt. Seeing the entire ton be against you, but perhaps you deserved it. After all you did kiss Colin. Not your intended, not your fiancé and certainly not your husband. Despite all the lies and the hurt, a part of you deserved it. Deserved to be judged like that.

“Best not to draw attention to yourself.” – Penelope spoke softly. It made you widen your eyes at her. Turning around, you left feeling already judged too much. You returned to mama, waiting there till the dreadful ball was over. The carriage ride back home was horrible. Your mother sighing loud as she undid one of her pins from her hair. – “This is a nightmare.” – she called out.

“I’ll have to marry my daughters off to farmers at the rate of this. Congratulations daughters, you better get used to the life of work.” – she said sarcastic. Phillipa busted out in tears, leaning her head against Prudence’s shoulder. She sighed again. – “I had such high hopes for you Y/n. Guess I overrated you.” – she turned to look outside.

Her comment made you lower your head, letting your hands slip in the folds of your skirt. The carriage hobbled on the cobble stone as it rode into your street. Mama got out first, your sisters following. You got out last, feeling miserable as hell. You immediately went to your room, crying on your bed.

Penelope lifted her head up as the door to the Parlor opened. Colin Bridgerton entering. – “Colin.” – Penelope spoke getting up. Colin bowed to her, before approaching him. – “To what do we owe the pleasure?” – she let out with curiosity. –“Are… are you here alone?” – he asked. Penelope let out a soft ‘yes’. – “Would you like some tea?” – she offered, gesturing at the small table. Colin nodded. Penelope poured him some tea, handing him the cup.

Colin took a sip as Penelope was staring at him. It made Colin furrow his brows. – “What is it Pen?” – he asked almost humorously. – “Nothing.” – she responded mesmerized back. It made Colin set the cup down with a sheepish chuckle. – “It is just…” – she started catching his attention. – “Your eyes…” – she began. – “A remarkable shade of blue.” – Gazing wondrously at him.

Colin stared back at her, caught up in her words. The front door opened as you entered alone. You walked past the Parlor, hearing your sister’s voice. – “and yet somehow they shine even brighter when you are kind.” – you heard her speak. Curious as to who your sister was speaking, you cautiously opened the door a smidge. Enough for you to look into the room, with one eye. Your eyes widening seeing her stand with Colin Bridgerton.

Colin cleared his throat, drinking his tea as if parched. You backed away from the door in stunned. Slowly figuring it out, you made your way over to the stairs. Stomping loudly as your presence was known now. Penelope turned around in shock. Colin with a quizzable brow. He moved forward, thinking perhaps an intruder had come to the house. Penelope’s eyes shifting thoughtfully, narrowing her eyes slightly.

Upstairs you rushed to your sister’s room. Swinging the door open as you didn’t bother to close it. Immediately you went towards her desk. Pulling the drawers open. Searching vigorously through the papers. Some flew out of the drawer from your force. On her desk stood a little box as you opened it, ruffling with your hand in it. Nothing. You went towards her dresser, searching through her clothing.

Nothing. The covers got pulled back from her bed. Nothing, not even under the bed. For a moment, you felt impatient. Biting your finger a bit. Till your eyes fell upon something else. You crossed the room, hearing a plank creek. It made you pause. Putting more pressure on it, to hear the difference. It creaked more.

Kneeling down you let your fingers brush over the wooden edges. Till you felt that you could lift the plank a bit up. Eyes widening, you pulled the plank up. Almost aggressively you forced your hands down to the wooden box and papers. Reading head line after head line. Dearest gentile reader. Dearest gentile reader. Dearest gentile reader. Throwing a few pages around you, you couldn’t stop reading them. All editions of Lady Whistledown you had read before.

The realization hitting you. The one who wrote such filth about you, was closer than you thought. Your own dearest sister. Quiet wallflower Penelope Featherington. Shy as a mouse, but loud with a mighty pen. In shock, you got up, holding numerous pages of filth. There were rushed footsteps on the stairs. Penelope barging into the room as she bumped against the doorframe, panting.

Her eyes widened at the sight of you with her papers. You slowly looked up to her, holding the numerous papers up. – “You… you did this…” – you said still trying to process your discovery. – “I can explain.” – she started coming closer. – “Filth after filth!” – You started throwing pages at her. Penelope got started as some pages flew against her.

“You wrote about me!” – you screamed out throwing the last of pages at her. Bending down, you picked up a few more. – “Does this satisfy you sister!” – waving the pages at her. – “I saw you with Colin!” – Penelope called out full of emotion. It made you throw the pages at her out of anger. – “So you decided to write lies about me!” – you yelled at her. – “You know I like Colin!” – Penelope answered justifying her acts. It made you scream in agony. – “If you just stayed away from him, I wouldn’t have to write about you!” – Penelope made clear.

Pacing around, you felt yourself get emotional. Lip trembling as you tried your best not to cry. – “You are the devil!” – you cried out with tears in your eyes. Penelope swallowed, finally cracking to her own emotions. – “It was only meant to teach you a lesson.” – she said. – “Is that what you were doing?!” – you shouted at her. – “By writing about me in your latest sheet! By telling the entire world about things I entrusted you with?” – you finished with anger.

“It was the only way I could convince you to leave Colin alone.” – she responded with emotion in her voice. You took a step forward to her, wiping your cheek clean. Your expression turning cold. – “The only person you were interested in glorifying was yourself!”

Penelope briefly looked away. – “I do not even know you.” – you said to her taking a step back from her. You turned away from her, wiping more tears away that kept coming. Penelope’s expression changed with anger. – “All you ever do is talk about your sisters!” – Penelope called out in frustration. – “You’ve all these dreams and ambitions, but I am the one who did something great, and you cannot stand it!” – She yelled out.

You returned to your sister, inhaling deep. – “I wish to never see or speak to you again.” – you told her coldly. You went towards the door till you stopped, finger thoughtfully against your lips. – “I wouldn’t put your hopes on Colin, Pen.” – you said to her. – “He’s not interested in you.” – you let her know, wanting to have the final blow.

Your words cut like a knife through her heart, making her gasp soft. You left her room, crying your eyes out. Penelope grabbed a pillow and threw it in agony at the wall. Rushing down the stairs, you didn’t expect Colin to still be here. – “Y/n?” – he said with concern at the foot of the stairs. With a trembling lip, you walked over to him, wrapping your arms around him.

Colin got startled for a second. – “What is wrong Y/n?” – he asked, moving his arms around you. You only wrapped your arms tighter around him, wanting him to comfort you. Colin hugged you better, stroking your back. Penelope had come into sight, standing at the railing of the stairway, looking down at Colin and you. You curled up a smile, knowing your sister was watching.

You moved a bit back in the hug as Colin saw the tears on your face. He touched your chin, concerned for you. – “What happened Y/n? Who hurt you?” – he wanted to know. You simply turned your head, looking at your sister up on the second floor. Colin looked past you to her as well. Penelope gripped onto the railing, staring bitter down. – “Pen?” – Colin asked you confused.

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Read more of my fics on my Masterlists!

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queenendless · 1 month

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🍑 TIME

A/n: The twerk GIFS got to me! All credit for the GIFS involved goes to @screampied for the Gojo and Sukuna ones, @heian-era-housewife for the Shiu Kong one, @mahgyu for the Geto one, and @blkkizzat for the Toji one. THNX U ALL for the glory that is JJK TWERKING~!

🔞 MDNI CONTENT. JJK men twerking for their lives, sub!JJK men x dom!GN!reader, ass cheeks clapping, ass slapping, ass marking, ass eating, ass abuse, cum time, impromptu ass piece. Also first time writing Sukuna and Shiu so go easy on me.

©️ PLEASE DONT PLAGIRIZE, COPY, TRANSLATE, EDIT, REPOST, AND ETC TO MY FAN WORK. Rather like comment reblog share and follow cause I personally want to reach close to 1k follows on this blog by the end of the year pls n thnx.

SYPNOSIS: OH, TWERKING IN YOUR FACE, BIG ASS MISTAKE~

GOJO with his cheeky ass grin growing every passing moment you demanded he strip those skinny pants down. Boxers included. Shameless heathen. Hanging over the bed's edge as you straddle his skinny thighs. You drum those bare melons like your own personal bongos. Granted, your cheeky bastard asked for it. And those loud passionate mewls of his earned him your red hand prints on his rippling hills. Literally chewing on them peaches came right after, your nose poking out of his ass crack while your mouth sucked his asshole, having him come one too many times against the strewn sheets to both your likings. Stroking his veiny coated dong between his lower valleys made it that much more tasty to suck him off, with his cock cumming again in your very grasp.

"Ohhh, honey loves my buns~! Yes you do – AAAAAH~!"

GETO bashfully blushes, his veiny knuckles pressed hard to his mouth to muffle his grunts and moans of painful pleasure as you spanked, clawed and teethed on those supple succulent peaches quite insistently. This cult head laid on his side along the mat covered platform, clawed the sheets with his free hand as his legs spasmed with those poofy ass pants hung off his calves like pooled up velvet. The ministrations your tongue gives drives him mad. Slobbering and slithering into his hole quite deeply with skillful strokes before suckling downwards. Like his pecs, his peaches smothered your face cheeks. Teasingly nipping at his leaky balls had his dong spasm and spurt in your face. You licking his cum off your face right into his had him squirt longer and harder.

"D – Darling~! Don't ever st — stop – AAH~!"

TOJI the physically gifted super human slash sorcerer killer that he lazily splays along the couch on his ripped tum tum, his ass practically jutting out right in your burning face, browsing his phone casually. Only to literally crush it in two with his giant beefy hand. Straddling his hips, you press his form into the cushions, as you knead and massage his chiseled cheeks, digging your nails in, before sucking aggressively to the point where your lip imprints are scattered along his now reddening bruised skin. His hips buckle sporadically right into yours but with such steel restraint not to literally shoot you up into the ceiling. The couch cushions however were torn to shreds as his stream of feral profanity fills the air as does his guttural carnal shouts of fervor.

"FUCK baby~! Starving for me already huh — NGH SHIT~!"

SUKUNA the literal King of Curses would be as amused as he would be resting his head atop two folded arms along his Malevolent Shrine, letting you lay atop him while you smack his cheeks together just to hear his skin clapping. On top of biting, tugging on his skin between your teeth, and nuzzling them fine giant melons had you on Cloud 9. His other two arms would possessively gripped on your hair to tug on now and then as well as fondle and smack your own bare tussy, his mouths popping out of his palms to layer bloody bite marks on you to get even. Raunchily making out with his a-hole had his giant cheeks suffocate your face, nearly passing out in the process from the light headed state you were left in his clapping cheeks freed you just to smack his double dripping dongs in your face to shower you in cum to lick off yourself. Guess he did get excited.

"Oh human~ To think you would react to that so sinfully~ Interesting~"

SHIU the mediator of dealings between the shady and the shadiest should have known you'd be down for a show and what it would entail at the end. The burnt out cig between his lips would fall out. Strewn across his marble work desk, you lounged in his rolling desk chair as you massaged and groped his peaches to loosen up his fatigued state. Leaving deep imprints engrained into mounds blushing in thanks. Too much workload means easily becoming mush in your titilating touch. Rutting within his fist now coated in creamy thickness as it dripped down his work pants pooled around his ankles. Wiping up some cum from his fist to your fingers, wiping it along his crack, to suck it up sloppily, including right up his hole. That got him moaning out passionately.

"Mmm~! Love, please don't let up now~! So GOOD~!"

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hazelfoureyes · 10 days

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A Doe in Fall (Part 9)

⟢HumanAlastor x FemaleBurlesquerReader - A Doe in Fall

A burlesquer with a penchant for conning men, you find your latest game interrupted when your next mark saves you from an aggressive fan— by killing him. The chance encounter left you curious, still half convinced you could complete your normal chase. Unbeknownst to you, you were the one being tracked.

Part 1 - Pretty in Red smut💦 Part 2 - Liar smut💦 Part 3 - A Tragedy smut💦 Part 4 - Enough Part 5 - Too Much Part 6 - Learning smut💦 Part 7 - Recognition smut💦 Part 8 - Trust sexual 🥵 Part 9 - Shiny Things 📍 Part 10 - Good Deeds

Part 9 - Shiny Things

Ephi moves in, and Ruth reads you like an open book.

「Warnings/Promises: HumanAlastor x Fem! BurlesqueReader, Reference to domestic abuse of non-reader character, fucks, crows, swans, emotions be emotioning, so many birds, I don’t think reader is Aromantic I think she’s just stubborn, Cliff diving is just a joke do not follow people off cliffs, everyone is kicking reader’s ass in some way, my apologies to parts of Texas but not Texas as a whole」

Long time no see ! My head wasn’t in the right space for this story, and my head was also literally not doing well. But! Reading glasses helped since I’m writing on my phone like 7 inches from my face. the goal is Wednesday updates~ there’s about four parts already written so we’ve got a month of runway 👌🏼 Wednesday mornings are ‘God, That’s Good’ by @macabr3-barbi3 and nights are ADIF!

🎶 last time on A Doe In Fall 🎶 : you came home from your first week staying officially at Alastor’s to find your estranged sister waiting on your stoop.

this isn’t sexy but just like minors come on, MDNI? This blog is a sex shop

It’s not that you hated your sister, it’s that you resented her. You could love someone and not like them an ounce… but unfortunately when she left so did your familial love. Which meant all that held you together now was distrust and an obligation to a dead woman.

“So things didn’t pan out up north?” You waved her into your apartment, agitation apparent in even the gesture of your arm.

“It’s peachy! Just need to lay low a bit.” She said it with a chipper voice while looking around your apartment like she paid for it. “Wow you weren’t lying about the no money, huh? Talk about a shoebox.”

Charming.

“Well, Ephi, you’re welcome to leave.” While you didn’t understand the name it wasn’t your business to question what someone asked to be called. Especially considering your own dual identity. You may have disliked the woman but human decency still hung to the bones of the relationship you called your sisterhood.

An obnoxious chuckle, “Nah it’ll do! Just the one single bed?”

“Why would I have more than one bed?”

A deep sigh from her, “Still last to be picked by the fellas, sis?” Her hand passed over your dresses hanging in the open closet, “The ugly duckling was always your favorite story.”

The fine hairs rose on the back of your neck, a cat’s hackles moving as the anger bristled through your body. You opened your mouth to shout all the ways you were not the ugly one in the room, hand already in the air to direct her attention to the dried, hanging flowers covering the far wall. How many people threw flowers at her feet? How many proposals were shouted to her? Wedding rings slipped off fingers and into pockets for her?

The air in your lungs went flat as a small fire of embarrassment rose in your gut.

How could she so quickly reduce you to a little girl again? Taking the bait for a fight you couldn’t win, because she wasn’t listening to anything but her own voice. Biting the inside of your cheek, your hand fell back to your side.

“You can take it. I’ll just be by for clothes now and then. Been staying with a friend closer to work.” Flipping through your mind you tried to catalog your valuables. What did you absolutely need to not turn up missing?

Ephi sat on the bed and crossed her legs in her best imitation of a lady. “Staying with Mister Fancy Pants?” A smile that reminded you of your childhood. A smile that said, “I won’t tell mom!” Right before turning and running to your mother’s ear.

“No.”

A giggle two octaves above her usual tone, “Sure, okay! No skin off my back.”

You took your time to gather the items you had forgotten first, then the items you didn’t want her to have. Unsure how exactly to tell Alastor why a week into sharing his home officially you were already redecorating, you left that for your future self to figure out. The first item was obvious.

An angel statue your mother kept on her nightstand. You wrapped it in some newspaper, trying not to look in her direction.

Your sister chased dick like most people chased liberty. Something she shared with your mother. Which was her right, but it rubbed you the wrong way how she would always forget everyone else in her life when she had a man to call her own. A fair weather friend, at that.

“How’s Howard?” The dick that took her away so many years ago.

She abandoned the lady act and rummaged through your cabinets, “Who’s that?”

Right.

A gold coin on a necklace. You slipped it inside a sock.

“So, then, who is the man of the hour?”

Ephi began opening the dresser drawers, poking here and there. “Whaddya mean! I am an independent woman.”

You weren’t sure that had ever been true. While your mother had drilled it into your skull to never place yourself in the need of a man, she always seemed to throw her heart (and house keys and purse strings…) at the feet of any man willing to love her.

“Love” her.

There was no love in any of that. A common problem of confusing love with any and all intense emotions affected your mother and many others.

Slashed furniture is not adoration. Breaking windows is not a love language. Bruises are not affection.

Your hands ran down the bag’s shapeless sides. Without thinking, you smiled. Adoration. Love languages. Affection. You had them and the knowledge of their secrets all to yourself.

Secrets you didn’t need slipping out. Secrets your sister couldn’t hold to save her life, or yours for that matter. You hurried around the room grabbing knick-knacks and photos and jewelry. Alastor would be at work soon, you wondered if you should call to warn him. This time not about a hot headed flatfoot but a nosey sibling.

You’d tell him later. No reason to talk to Brenda again. Quickly your leather bag got full and heavy. What was supposed to be a casual foray into sharing a home already turning into a full on move.

Everything you needed and a few things no one ever would, because damn would Ephi pawn them the very second she needed something, were safely zipped away. Any plans to relax at home before work were abandoned and you just marched to the door.

A random memory flashed behind your eyes, washing Alastor’s hair in the tub until the water ran clear. Why now? The only memory shared in your apartment. And it was an awful one. But, it had Alastor. That gave it value.

“Hey, if any men come by looking for me you just don’t answer, okay?” You forced your face to relax, to show the sincerity you worked so hard to keep to yourself, “Please, Ephi.”

Her smile widened past unnaturally white teeth, no money for a room but clearly cash for peroxide tooth gel, “Ooh, why? Little sister make some enemies?”

Why couldn’t she just fucking agree?

“My job sometimes attracts crazies. I don’t tell them where I live but occasionally they figure it out. They’ve gotten violent before so…just don’t answer the buzzer. They’ll say they’re damn near anyone to get you to let them up.” You stopped the nervous twisting of your bag’s handle, “Boyfriend, boss, detective. They've tried it all.”

“Aww, sis. Look at you.” She leaned her full figure against the open door frame, arm raised up like a pin up. Ephi was always effortlessly enchanting when her mouth was closed. “Stalkers? Mama would be so proud. Finally learning how to catch a man’s attention.”

The tears that stung your eyes were inspired partly by anger and partly by pain. They came so suddenly you could only laugh in response.

“Lovely to see your new name hasn’t changed you, Ephi. I’ll be back occasionally. Don’t steal anything, no strangers over. Spare key is in the bowl by the door.”

“Oh hey!”

You turned back.

“I do need some cash. Until I find work.”

The numbness blanketed you with a chill.

“I’ve got like, three bucks. Is that fine?”

Why did you ask that? You knew she could very well say it wasn’t fine and you’d be obligated to offer to get more. Atleast, that’s what you’d have done when you were younger. How easily you both slipped into old roles. Or perhaps she never grew out of hers.

She mulled it over, “Yeah that’ll be fine.” Her hand came out and waited for the bills.

An open palm waiting for your money.

You pulled the folded bills from your wallet and set them in her hand without touching her skin.

“Thanks sis!” She turned and closed the door before you could reply.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

The other dancers shot you a look when your bag jingled and clanked as it hit the floor, you wincing as you remembered the ceramic figurine.

“You…. going somewhere, hun? The detective got you on something?”

A quick shake of your head. You hadn’t considered the optics. Luckily it was early enough the room wasn’t very busy. A few select missing women would have pried for more information. Your hands fidgeted, unsure what to do. On the way in you saw some newer talent getting their feet on stage, maybe watch them? Too early for make up.

A loving voice from Ruth, always a savior, “Cigarette?”

You melted at the offer. Alastor wasn’t a fan of the smell so you were slyly cutting back.

She popped a sun bleached folding chair open and set it in between you both as a footrest. So many broken and ruined chairs littered the sides of the dingy roof, you were shocked she found a good one on her first try.

“Alright, tell me what happened with that detective. Do I need to go rough up a city employee?” Ruth leaned back and settled into her chair with a creak and a whine of the wood.

You needed a second, eyes flitting around as she handed her cigarette for you to take a drag. What could you say? What did she already know? You’d not spoken about it since she helped shoo him away but the appearance of half your belongings haphazardly stuffed into a bag clearly had her alarms going off.

“So remember the guy who came by for me? Tall handsome one.”

She nodded enthusiastically, “Yes! Of course. Don’t forget a name like his. Or face.” She whistled like a crude man trying to get a woman’s attention in the most annoying way.

“The detective thinks he did something to Tommy. That he was jealous. Which is ridiculous-,” you felt a nervous energy slip down your arms.

An abrupt laugh, “That string bean couldn’t open a heavy window. He didn’t do shit to Tommy. What a stupid thing to say.”

Did she notice how much you’d been holding your breath? A deep sigh as you let it go. “Exactly! He doesn’t even know about what happened that night with that guy and Tommy’s arrangement; it’s too mortifying. Anyway, the detective has been hounding me about it. I don’t wanna cause trouble.” You ashed the cigarette and held it out for her, “Stuff is still new with him and me, so I didn’t tell the detective his details or work anything. Why would I? So he can harass him too?” The words all tumbled out so quickly. A faucet turned too far to the left.

“Fair.” A few passes back and forth in what you hoped was a comfortable silence and not an indication she was piecing together things you needed to remain unlinked. Finally, “Didn’t realize you two were still seeing each other. Longest one you’ve kept for awhile now.”

Looking up, you marveled at the view of the open sky. Not a cloud in sight. A smile crept across your face, the heat of the sun warming you from the inside out. The slightest chill to the air warning you of Fall. “Yeah.”

She asked what made him so special and you didn’t know where to start. “The obvious,” you began. “He’s so-,”

“Clever.” “Handsome.”

You’d spoken at the same time, her attempt at soothsaying failing miserably.

“Clever, Ruth. He’s very clever. Handsome men are a dime a dozen. But he’s sharp as a tack.” She rolled her eyes and waved her hand around for you to go on. You let your mind toss out the shiniest examples. “He’s so skilled. He knows how to hunt and take apart animals. He can fish. Cooks like a dream. He knows how to clean clothes well and how to use a washing board.”

“Useful.” She mused. That isn’t what you meant. You weren’t trying to list off his features like a new appliance. It was just— impressive. He was well rounded.

“And he’s terribly kind. He’s always,” how to say it delicately, “going out of his way to help others solve their problems.” That seemed accurate and vague enough. You chuckled to yourself, remembering him at the kitchen table, “His face lights up so bright when he’s talking about his hobbies. Like, I can see his soul glittering behind his eyes and suddenly I’m just as interested in whatever he’s talking about as he is.” You let your eyes close around the mental image of his surprised face every time you complimented him. But they shot open when she began giggling, “What?”

“You’re in looooove,” her foot kicked yours, “I know that look. Head over heels already. Talking about him like he made the fucking stars.”

Wide eyed and stunned, was it written on your face so plainly? “Oh don’t say that. It makes me so uncomfortable. We’re just enjoying each other's company.” When she moved to give you the cigarette again you didn’t take it. “All I was saying was—,” fuck, what were you saying? That he was special? “He’s a very nice person to spend my limited time with. It’s a finite resource and all.”

With a shrug she took another puff, “What’s to be uncomfortable about? Falling in love is a wonderful thing, hun.”

Was it? Honestly, had she ever considered how much damage came with loving someone? It was putting your heart outside your body. Letting someone else carry it around and just praying they didn’t hurt you, or get hurt, or go off and die and take your heart with them. Why would anyone willingly do such a silly thing?

“Cheesy. And kind of creepy. Falling? How do I get back up if things go south?”

You’d successfully avoided emotional attachment to nearly every lover you’d taken. The way women seemed to get struck down dumb by any old John or Jane just wasn’t appealing. Love was for fools. The weak. The dependent.

Or, so you had whispered to yourself as you pretended to not be home when suitors came knocking, as you avoided ringing phones, as you apologized and slid out of restaurant seats after awkward dinners.

“If you fall hard enough, you don’t get back up.” She said it like it was a good thing. “You’ll love them forever, even if you hate em.”

That was the problem, too. How could she not hear that as she said it? All loss of control of your own heart and emotions was simply bad. People do irrational things for love.

You shivered, “That sounds absolutely horrid, Ruth.”

“Aah,” she dismissed you with a raspberry blown between her lips, “For the right man, you’ll find yourself enjoying the trip down!”

“Nah, I’m not fan of heights. No dick is worth that.”

“Is that all men are to you? Sex?” She guffawed, taken aback by your comment. Which was odd, given it was Ruth.

But, Yes.

Well. No . But — he wasn't a man. He was something different. The exception to the rule. Alastor was different.

Or, fine.

Yes, he was a man.

No, you didn’t see them as just sex. It was easier to say people were just pleasure and not stop to think about life any other way. Things got complicated when you added another person. Life became sloppy and uncontainable. If you stopped and considered the lives behind the people you used to lead on and let go before things got too difficult, you’d just wound yourself. It was easier to stop at sex.

When you could. Which you could, before. When sex was a token you traded back and forth with someone. But Alastor didn’t accept that currency. You couldn’t hand him your body and get brief but lovely companionship back. Your value had to lie elsewhere, the things you set before him and the wonders he had to offer were much richer in their worth than what you’d ever had before.

Sometimes it felt like you slid him a penny and he handed you a quarter. You found yourself scrounging up the petty coins of your worth and trying to save them up for him. Practicing your makeup, learning how he liked his coffee, remembering all of the things he said he hated and loved. Attempting to stop smoking. Every act was another shiny offering for him.

A crow scrounging the park grounds for glittering trash. Not very swan-like, you thought.

“You really don’t think you’re falling for him?” Ruth put out the cigarette in the coffee can beside her. As you turned to argue with her you saw her face full of amusement and incredulousness. It was rhetorical.

The argument withered and you could only pout, everyone that day seeming to catch your tongue, “I don’t wanna think about it. I’ll get scared and run away. He’ll figure out how little I have to give eventually. If anything more is gonna happen, it’ll happen. I’ll just… let it. Why ruin it with… saying childish things.”

“You’re naive but that’s okay. Enjoy the honeymoon stage while you can.”

Your eyes rolled, “What if he doesn’t feel the same? Why embarrass myself.” When you sighed the weight of just how heavy and true that sentiment was resonated in your stomach. Telling him you were falling in love? Alastor was a killer. His passion was singular. What good was a dame to him? No, worse than worthless. A liability. A witness. A weak point in the walls he so carefully crafted. If he knew you were in love with him he’d just end things sooner than they would have naturally.

“Dontcha wanna know if he’s a waste of that precious time, then?”

You cackled, choking on your spit. Alastor? He was the most worthwhile thing you’d ever encountered. Time with him suddenly had …. Value. That fucking word again. But time with him, it was slow enough to be deep and rich, but so fleeting you already felt a mourning mood for how much closer you were to the end.

You could only shake your head, “Wait, Ruth, didn’t you get divorced?”

“Shhh that doesn’t count!” She rose and stretched her long arms up to the sun and then out to the horizon, “Plus that’s how I know what I’m talking about! After the honeymoon phase? You’ll be arguing about laundry and wishing you were strangers again. Fighting about children and lawncare.”

As your finger nervously came to your mouth, teeth cutting into the nail, you considered how if Alastor complained about laundry and you could argue back with the comfort of knowing neither would simply leave, that’d be….nice. The safety of being honest without the fear of the other person giving up on you. Was that love?

And did that matter at all?

You’d thought earlier you knew the answers but now, when someone else said it, you got scared of those words.

Ruth must have put a spell on you. As you and a bevy of others danced in line on stage, arms over shoulders and legs kicking high enough to show cheek and jiggle the soft skin of your thighs and stomach, you felt butterflies in your gut. Alastor would be picking you up in a matter of hours.

A few men sent you drinks, which you repaid with a wink and a kiss blown across the bar before downing the liquor. It was the usual routine. You hadn’t felt nerves to see Alastor quite like that since sheepishly picking out “comfortable” shoes.

Alastor’s eyes widened when he took the bag from you, not noticing your attempts to avoid making eye contact. He let out a chuckle, his best attempt at stifling the joking question, “Already moving in?”

He realized quickly enough that wasn’t a good joke. Not when he finally looked up and saw your stare was distant.

“Everything okay, dear?” He walked to open your door for you, and you nodded a thank you and an affirmative.

Should you rip off the band aid? Should you just say it and see what happens?

When you turned to look at him and blurt out a confession, you were stopped by the profile of his face. What a gentle face. A lovely jaw. Even his bones were better than other people’s. What were you doing in this man’s car? What little pieces of glittering trash were you about to toss at him on a random Friday night?

No, in the books you read, confessions were always grande affairs. Fireworks and dinner parties and passionate kisses in rain storms.

You’d have to put a little effort into this. His brows rose as he clocked your staring. Eyes on the road, smirk pulled to the right, his hand came to rest on your thigh.

He deserved something much better than whatever you had to offer. Something unlike yourself entirely.

The drive home, and yes you let yourself linger on the word instead of shoo it away, you watched a deer jump across the dirt road just past the bridge.

“The bucks chase the does. It’s part of their mating ritual. I guess it’s not unlike the ‘playing hard to get’ some women like. The longer the chase, the prouder the buck to snag his prize.”

You laughed, “Women don’t like it, I don’t think. Well, some do I am sure but… If we don’t do that then people think we’re easy. We need plausible deniability. If people learn we put out we can claim we didn’t really want to and save some face.”

Alastor grimaced, “Gross.”

Unseen, you nodded and turned to watch the buck leap after its doe.

“Kind of funny, you chased me down, didn’t you?” Alastor’s comment pulled you back to him.

“Oh yes. That makes you my doe.” Your arm came to rest against the car door, the trees slowly rolling by in the darkness. “Reminds me of the small freckles across your shoulders.”

“My mighty buck!” He fawned, in jest, pretending to collapse into your lap. You shoved him back up and behind the wheel proper. “Well given the chance, I’d chase you for miles.” His hand flexed on your leg.

“To Texas?” You asked. Your usual end point.

“Further.”

“How far?”

“There is no limit. I’d … run right off a cliff, head first, if you were waiting at the bottom.” He took his hand back, needing both to hold the wheel. What he said hit him harder than he had intended. Was it too much? A tad too dramatic? A nervous clearing of his throat, followed by an awkward laugh to put more space between him and the confession.

The idea of you making Alastor chase you was ridiculous. You enjoyed the games you played with others, but you were never meant to be caught. If you wanted that, you’d just…give yourself. As you had done with him. Only him. The first and last person you ever wanted to give yourself over to in any sense. “And if I just… lied down and let you catch me? Would that make me a poorly earned prize?”

“Nope! That’d make me a lucky duck. And make you quite smart, if I do say so myself.” A wink. “Why run from such a catch like me?”

You landed a smack on his arm, light and playful.��

A truly comfortable silence settled in, just the sound of the car trembling over the rough road. The newest model Ford was still as loud as the last, but luckily you were far from others.

The words had lingered like smoke, and you felt the need to address them.

“Don’t actually do that though. If I run off a cliff or something stupid, don’t you dare follow me.”

Alastor just laughed, wasn’t that what you were doing for him already? Diving into hell for some inexplicable reason after Alastor. He wasn’t expressing some lack of self preservation, he was merely letting you know he’d reciprocate the fall. You hadn’t made him run after you, but instead seemed to just….rest your neck between his canines. And trust.

If you were to go to heaven, he wasn’t sure what he’d do. It was too late to redeem his soul now. How far was heaven from hell, anyways? If the devil survived the plummet perhaps he could scale the walls of his enclosure and breach the gates.

Though, as he thought about the idea of heaven, he considered how happy his mother would be to meet you. To take you from her would be as cruel as heaven taking you from him.

Maybe he could make a plea. To just be able to see you from below.

But if the knowledge you were happy and safe was all he had, he’d be a richer man in hell than he’d ever been on earth. It’d be enough.

He’d just need to broadcast his radio waves a little further for your listening pleasure.

⋅˚₊‧ ଳ⋆Masterlist.ೃ࿔*:･

˖ ݁𖥔.Summoning the Horny Little Deer Cult.𖥔 ݁ ˖

@eris-norwega @reath-solia @catticora , @angelicribbons , @xalygatorx

@cxrsedwxrlds , @nonetheartist , @tsunaki , @janchei , @moonmark98

, @readergirlstuff , @berry-demon , @chirimeimei , @fairyv-ice , @olive-frog ,

@thonethatflies620 , @tiredkiwiii , @ilikemyteawithmilk , @whateverlololo , @psipies

@howabouticallyou , @roxxie-wolf , @fizzled-phoenix , @star-kujo-platinum

, @a-case-of-attachment , @multifandomfanatic02 @watereddownmilk , @bontensbabygirl @smoky000

@hoebihoeshi , @pansexual-opera-house , @polytheatrix , @lorddiabigmommymilkers , @backinthefkingbuildingagain

@harley2223-blog , @poinappel , @midnightnoiserose , @spookieroz , @missmidorima ,

@ivebeenthearchersstuff , @downbadforfictionalppl , @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx , @sleepylittledemon , @aether-th3-enby

@dontfuckbutimfab @breathlessaura , @aperfectidiot , @certainlygay , @jth12

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel fanfiction #human alastor x reader #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel smut #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin alastor #alastor #alastor x reader smut #alastor smut #fanfiction #hazbin alastor x reader #alastor fanfiction #alastor x you #hazbin hotel x you

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tteokdoroki · 8 months

Note

so jock yuuji and weird girl reader right? am i right?

weird girl who is the one who initiates any form of hostility. jocks arent jerks by defaults, yuuji definitely not. weird girl sees the world in popular / unpopular, uninteresting / interesting, pretty / meaningful, and general black / white thinking. extremes.

yuuji would just have no idea any of this is going on. like why is she mad at me. i wanted to ask her about the keychain on her bag. whyd she accept my follow request but not follow me back.

i love the dynamic of jaded reader x clueless blorbo!!! where they are both somewhat attracted to eachother the more they observe eachother around campus, but one pulls closer and the other pushes him away!!

jock yuuji def hangs out in the gymnasium instead of going to class btw. plays music out loud on his speakers thru the halls. if u even care. he carries around one of those big ass water bottles and he never got a backpack w him. just showing up to econ with nothing but a drawstring bag of ground down pencils and vibes

𖤐๋࣭ — JOCK BF!YUUJI ENTRY #9. first meetings.

about. a scenario in which the campus’ favourite jock lays eyes on his future freaky girlfriend for the first time.

warnings. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact! sfw, fluff, meet cute, jock bf!itadori, weird gf + fem!reader.

imagine yuuji signing up to one of your classes and he kinda makes a fool of himself on the first day. like he shows up late because practice ran over, his laptop his dead and he doesn’t have a pen but your professor (and it’s taken like two years for you to have gotten on his good side) just lets it SLIDE !!! so you’ve already got your back up with yuuji — thinking he’s some dumb jock here to mess around in your class !!!

he takes the seat right next to you of course, introduces himself to you with a sunshine smile that keeps on burning even when you cut your eyes at him and ignore the poor guy. yuuji even goes as far as to ask you for a pen half way through the lecture — and your heart stops when your fingers brush as you pass one to him. he’s a stupid jock, you remind yourself, he’s probably just making fun of you.

the pink haired jock never leaves you alone after that day!! he says hi to you in the halls at dorms he visits or on the way to the library — his music playing obnoxiously through the speaker he carries even when the librarian politely tells him to quiet down.

yuuji sits with you at study cubicles every week even though you’ve made it clear that you don’t want anything to do with him — but he follows you on Instagram, and asks you for notes from your shared classes, texts you about the socials coming up (even though you never go to them). and even though you think that he’s annoying… itadori is charming in a way.

he’s good to his friends, knows all of his teachers by name, he even studies hard — despite you thinking that he doesn’t.

maybe you misjudged itadori, maybe you were a little too harsh.

maybe you’re starting to think better of him, and he can kind of tell when wave him over to sit next to you during class and lend him the same pen you gave him when you’d first met.

#✧ ₊˚✉️੭ — new notification #✧ ₊˚💬੭ — unknown messenger #itadori x reader #itadori fluff #yuuji itadori fluff #yuuji itadori x reader #⋆｡°✩ — jock bf!yuuji #✧ ₊˚੭ — writing #tteokdoroki

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bvidzsoo · 1 month

Text

Love Me Like A Rockstar (13)

ー☆ Chapter 13: You Know Me Too Well

Author: bvidzsoo

Pairing: Song Mingi x female reader

ー☆ Warning: cursing, usage of the word 'bitch' ー☆ Word count: 6.5k ー☆ Genre: university!au, enemies to lovers!au, rockstar!au ー☆ Rating: sfw ー☆ Summary: Love. You wanted none of it. You had already been heartbroken very badly once, you didn't wish to go through that ever again. But the Universe works in intricate ways and, somehow, you found yourself webbed up in a local rockstar's life, Song Mingi. He was everything you expected him to be, yet nothing like you imagined him he would be. What happens when you find mutual understanding and have heartful conversations? Will he be able to break down your walls? Will you be able to chase away his darkness?

A/N: Well, well, lovelies...new chapter is up and maybe I'm kind of kicking my feet??? Who knows, we'll see what y'all think of this chapter hehe. Also, happy birthday to Song Mingi?! I actually didn't mean to post the new chapter today, but today was the only day I had enough time to write it sooo, yeah. Tmi, but MC's mother is exactly like my mom, so maybe I drew inspiration from real life lol, I love her to death but sometimes I really wish SHE DIDNT SPEAK lol. Also, I'm so obsessed with today's song for the chapter; I'm screaming, crying, throwing up over it LOL. Just a heads up, next chapter is the last like actual chapter of the series and then I decided to add an epilogue lol cue the sobbing. As per usual, listen to You Know Me Too Well before or while reading the chapter! I hope you enjoy and let me know through feedback hehe <3 Enjoy your weekends! divider

Taglist: @orshii @or5i @lovely-red2 @scarfac3 @juicy-red

@sunaswifes-blog @voicesinmyhead-rc @teez-the-time @maru-matt @kyeos4ng

@deathbyyeekies @chicksmoothie @mjlbn01 @xhexy @tmtxtf

@hwashiningstar @thatfavouritesong @ateez-atiny380 @xciiiomwliah @vixensss

@catchingskzzzs @tesssaurrr @ginger-mingi @mingisbbg

⟨Series M.list ↭ Previous Chapter⟩

♫Playlist♫

Saturday (2:55 pm)

Me: mingi can we talk?

Saturday (8:30 pm)

Me: i am free whenever you say so just let me know and i’ll be there

Sunday (9:15 am)

Me: we need to talk, mingi.

Sunday (12:08 am)

Me: please hear me out im sorry

Monday (current time)

“Do you think he’ll slam the door in my face?” The hallways were buzzing with life as I tried to veer my way around the crowd of students without running into anyone. Today, out of all days, I just so happened to have my last class of the day in a completely different building and at least a good five-minute walk away from the arts building.

“It’s what you’d deserve, to be fair, but—” The was a gasp on the other side of the phone and my eyebrows furrowed as Seulgi muttered something to someone, muffled, “sorry, Wooyoung almost dropped my mother’s favorite vase, I told him to take off that blindfold.”

Eyebrows furrowing even deeper, I abruptly stopped walking, making a girl give me a heated glare that I didn’t care for, “Why is he blindfolded? Wait! I actually don’t want to know.”

“We were playing hide and seek with his niece, you idiot, but I got bored and sneaked away when I saw you calling.” Seulgi’s voice was exasperated and I chuckled as I took off again, leaving the science major’s building as I nuzzled further into my thick scarf. Some days it was warmer, but most days it got really cold and I hated it. I couldn’t deal with the freezing weather, perhaps it was my biggest enemy after Jeong Yunho, “Anyways, as I was saying, you deserve to be ignored by Mingi, but knowing how big of a sucker he is for you, he’ll probably give in before you can utter a single word.”

My heart jumped at the thought as I gnawed on my bottom lip, cutting off the path as I hurried through the grass, uncaring that I was probably destroying the work of the gardener. Besides, the grass had barely just started growing out again, it would be fine, “You think so?”

“I know so.” I heard Wooyoung’s high-pitched voice shouting from the distance and my eyebrows furrowed as I realized Seulgi had probably put me on speaker. Now that was a bit awkward, “He’s an idiot, but he’s in love. Now that I come to think of it, you two are a lot alike, two idiots in love—”

“I believe your niece is looking for you, babe.” Seulgi cut her boyfriend off and I was thankful because I don’t think I could’ve handled hearing him say the words ‘in love’ again. That was scary, even just the thought of it. I was barely coming to terms with liking Mingi, but hearing the word love sort of made me want to turn back around and abandon my whole plan of trying to make peace between the two of us. And Seulgi knew this, thankfully, because she didn’t say anything about it again, “Are you on your way to his studio right now?”

I hummed and curled my fingers tighter around the thermos bottle, my nose cold from the weather as the arts building finally came into sight, “Yeah, three minutes and I’m there.”

“Good.” Seulgi sounded content and I sighed as I tried to ignore the dawning anxiety that tried to crawl through my body and make me abandon my well-thought-out plan. I had to do this. Seulgi and my mom were right, I couldn’t mess this up again. I liked Mingi, a lot. He is a good guy and I shouldn’t let my past and my fears dictate my life. Yes, Mingi is Yunho’s best friend, but Mingi isn’t like Yunho. Hopefully, “Update me later then, I love you Y/N, I hope you know that.”

I chuckled and nodded at the security guard as he was out of his cubicle, standing at the bottom of the steps, smoking his cigar, “I know, thank you for knocking some sense into me.”

“We’ll see about that later.” Her snort was amused and I shook my head as we said our goodbyes, the warmth of the building making me sigh out in relief as I entered through the front doors. I pocketed my phone and unwrapped my scarf from around my neck, greeting the familiar people I crossed paths with. I would be lying if I said I wasn’t feeling nervous at all, after all, I didn’t know how Mingi would react. If he was anything like me, he wouldn’t forgive me so easily. Not when I’ve hurt him again and in the worst way possible.

As I ascended the marble stairs, I found stability in the thermos bottle clutched firmly in both of my hands now, its weight helping me to keep my determination and focus on going through with my own plan. When I woke this morning and went to take a quick shower, I was surprised to hear my mother’s singing and smell the delicious waft of pancakes, making my stomach growl loudly as I didn’t have dinner the night before. It seemed like my mother had taken a day off, grumbling something about her deserving a day to rest after she was almost choked out by one of her mentally ill patients. I couldn’t help but agree with her as we sat at the table in silence, enjoying our breakfast, that is until she cleared her throat loudly and stood up, fetching a mug and a cup from the counter next to the sink. I froze when I realized she was handing me the cup Mingi had designed with funny looking chicks on it, and I was even more confused when I realized it wasn’t coffee I was drinking, but hot chocolate.

“So, what are you going to do about that handsome fella?” I tried not to groan or regret the fact that I told her everything about Mingi. I took a tentative sip of the hot chocolate and realized it wasn’t hot before taking a bigger gulp as I enjoyed its sweet taste.

“I’ll talk to him today—”

“Great!” My mother didn’t even let me finish as she sprung up from her seat again to fetch something from a cupboard, “It’s amazing how strong our maternal intuition is, I swear my starlight, you should make some babies soon.”

“Mom.” I groaned as I watched her curiously as she took a blue thermos bottle from the cupboard and filled it with hot chocolate from the kettle, “We’ve had this discussion many times before, I’m not having children so young.”

“You’re not that young though.” She sent me a sheepish smile as my eyes widened, feigning hurt.

“I’m turning twenty-three?! How is that not young?” She cleared her throat as she sealed the thermos and walked back to the table to sit down.

“I’m just trying to inspire you, anyways,” She huffed and then placed the thermos on the table and pushed it towards me, “Bring this to him as peace offering, he’ll love it. Trust me.”

“I don’t think what Mingi needs right now is hot chocolate—”

“Finish your breakfast and shut up.” My mother didn’t let me finish as she cut off a thick part of the pancake with her fork and forced it inside my mouth, making me groan, “Mothers know best when it comes to stuff like this, be thankful I’m saving your relationship and be back before lunch. I’m ordering take out, and I certainly am not waiting for late your ass if I’m hungry.”

I knew fighting my mom was fruitless, so I just grumbled an okay as I tried to chew the pancake she had forced in my mouth, my cheeks all puffed out. My mother seemed content that I finally wasn’t talking back to her and I shook my head as I pulled the thermos bottle towards me, reminded of the time when Mingi had brought me tea knowing that I would be feeling probably a little sick after getting all soaked in the cold rain and harsh wind.

So, now, with Mingi’s clothes in my tote bag and the thermos filled with hot chocolate in my hands, I couldn’t help but feel optimistic despite the anxiety gripping at my thoughts. If my mother, Seulgi, and even Wooyoung—who knew Mingi like the back of his hand—were convinced that everything would work out just fine, then why would I not believe that? Sure, Mingi was probably still annoyed at me, but I didn’t think a few apologies and even more explanations couldn’t fix the issue at hand. All I had to do was be honest and come clean with my feelings and he’d probably do the same and then—that’s where anxiety stepped in. Then what? Was I ready to pursue a relationship? Did Mingi want to date me? Did I want to date him? Why did it have to be Jeong Yunho’s best friend I was into? Why could I not move past my fears and stop associating Mingi with everything I was wounded by, when he never once made me feel like Yunho did? I could dwell on these thoughts for an eternity, I fear, but I didn’t have that time right now. And to be fair, I didn’t want to think of such things right now because I could feel my determination wither the closer I got to the music majors’ floor, heartbeat loud in my ears.

I stopped at the end of the hallway and took a deep breath, eyes settling on the studio I knew now was used by Mingi only. Wooyoung was nice enough to tell me the number of his studio—not that I had forgotten since the last time I was here—and he also let me know that it was used by Mingi only, the teachers having granted him full access, even at hours when students were supposed to be at home. It seems so Mingi was a favorite amongst the teachers, and I could see why. He was diligent and hard-working; his lyrics were beautiful and nothing would stop him from fulfilling his dream of becoming a well-known rockstar. I couldn’t help but feel excited at the prospect of that, and hoped that I would be part of his journey, that he’d let me back into his life.

Steeling my nerves and trying to see the light at the end of the tunnel, I knew there was no turning back. I wanted to do this, I had to do this. I had to stop sabotaging myself, and so, I marched down the hallway towards Mingi’s studio with a newfound hope and determination. Which lasted about five seconds as I came face to face with Mingi’s studio door. There was a small window on it, which would let you know whether the room was occupied or not, and it was straight across the desk where he was sat at—with the blonde girl standing right next to him. And that should have been okay, because really, Mingi could talk to whoever and spend his time also with whoever he pleased. And it’s not like I didn’t have male friends—I didn’t, Seulgi was my only friend—it’s not like he couldn’t speak to one of his fans. After all, he’s made it clear she was nothing more than a fan he appreciated for helping spread the word about his band.

But then, why was her hand on his shoulder one second and the next second slowly trailing down the sleeve of his beige cardigan—which looked like it was messily stained with paint—and certainly the way my good disposal dissipated and was overtaken by blind jealousy and rage had nothing to do with the sudden possessiveness that shook me to my core. And perhaps the thing that bothered me the most wasn’t even her feeling up Mingi’s arm as she looked down at him with sultry eyes, perhaps it was the way Mingi leaned back in his chairs, legs spread wide, and smirk on his lips as he looked up at her with his sharp gaze, allowing her to touch him. Perhaps that’s what sent me over the edge as I barged inside the studio in the most unceremonious way, making the girl yelp in fright and Mingi flinch as his eyes widened.

『Baby, you're all that I want

I want you all to myself

Oh, but you know me too well』

And when I was angry—or panicking, or hurt—all rational thoughts flew out the window as I was led by nothing else but pure instinct and a shit ton of unclear and not so necessarily nice thoughts. Simpler put, I wasn’t thinking nor making sense, but I couldn’t care less as I glared at the both of them while I struggled to mask the fury licking at my veins. They were both looking at me wide eyed, as if I had caught them doing something I wasn’t supposed to, and that made me snap before I could think through how to proceed with this whole shitshow, “Get out.”

For a second, even I didn’t recognize my voice as it dropped a few octaves, fierce gaze set on the blonde girl as she paled, eyes scrambling between Mingi and me as, suddenly, Mingi seemed to snap out of whatever scare I had given him by slamming his door open and into the wall. God, I hope I haven’t actually damaged it, because I certainly didn’t have the money to pay for it right now. I couldn’t look at the blonde girl anymore, heart beating fast in my chest as Mingi and I made eye contact, his eyebrows set in a deep frown as he had a sneer on his face.

“Excuse me?” God, even her voice was annoying. I looked back at the blonde girl and raised my eyebrows at her mockingly.

“Are you deaf?” I chuckled, but it was humorless, “Do I need to repeat myself?”

She huffed, looking offended—rightfully so—and I gritted my teeth as I stepped inside the studio, making it pretty obvious that I wasn’t going anywhere before this bitch left. I tried not to see red as Mingi’s hands balled up into fists or the way the girl snickered, crossing her arms in front of her chest.

“You’re the one that’s barged inside uninvited, sweetheart,” And if I could have, I would have ripped her blonde strands out, “this isn’t your fucking studio, so, shut up. Mingi wants me here, maybe you should leave.”

I bit my bottom lip to stop myself from laughing, somewhere deep in my mind realizing I looked absolutely psychotic and if Mingi didn’t hate me before, he certainly would hate me now. I wasn’t helping myself; I was making everything worse—just the usual, then. But this bitch wasn’t stopping me from getting what I came here for, and I hummed as my eyes fell on Mingi again, who’s jaw was clenching and unclenching. His sharp eyes were narrowed, but it seemed like he wasn’t saying anything anytime soon and that only pissed me off more.

“Sure,” I nodded and walked further inside, forcefully throwing my tote bag on the small couch against the wall on my left, making the contents of it spill out. I watched as both Mingi and the girl looked at the clothes, and Mingi’s expression flashed with something unreadable for a second, “Mingi wants you here.”

I suppose neither expected me not to stop until I reached the desk, coming up on Mingi’s left side as I slammed the thermos bottle—albeit too harshly—against the desk, a loud bang echoing in the room. Mingi’s eyebrows furrowed as I opened my mouth to tell the girl to leave again, but suddenly, he was up on his feet, staring me down. The height difference wasn’t that great between the two of us, but suddenly I felt small under his heated glare and sneer that seemed to settle on his lips, broad shoulders intimidating as he lowered his head just a little bit. He looked nothing like the Mingi I had gotten to know over the past few months, and it made my heart race as I realized I might not be able to reason with him today, “What the fuck is your problem, Y/N?! You tell her to get out when you barge in unwelcomed, and then start demanding for her to leave—”

I couldn’t even let him finish his sentence before I was firing back my argument, “Oh, what’s my fucking problem?! Maybe the fact that you lied to me?”

“About what?!” Mingi snapped, eyebrows furrowed as he took a step towards me, his body big enough to make the blonde girl not be seen behind him.

“Oh, be for real.” I scoffed and rolled my eyes, “You never show anyone your songs to? But you so conveniently let me listen to that unfinished song of yours and now look who else gets to listen to it? Her. If you’re so desperate to get laid, you should have—”

“I didn’t show her shit.” Mingi cut me off, voice shaking as his cheeks grew red from anger, probably. Mingi wasn’t a scary person, but he looked scary right now. There was no ounce of kindness in his expression nor tone, he looked cold and angry and like he hated me. I gulped and realized, once again, that I was digging myself deeper into the shithole I had created for myself, that I was hurting him again and again. This is not how things were supposed to go, “I only showed you. That unfinished song you’re talking about, only you know about it. Thanks for reminding me again why I shouldn’t deal with you anymore—”

“Stop it.” I snapped, eyebrows furrowing as I felt fear grip at my throat, making my voice sound shaky as Mingi’s expression went blank. I hated when he did that. I wanted to know what he was thinking about, I needed to see what he felt. I couldn’t do this if he withdrew himself, I couldn’t do this if I was the only one that would bare her heart to him. I was scared. He was pushing me away like Yunho had done, Mingi was abandoning me.

“Stop it?” If I wanted to cry when he laughed in my face mockingly, impassive smirk settling on his lips, I didn’t let it happen. I kept my composure, anger, hurt, desperation, yearning all mixing together as I found it harder and harder to breathe, “You want me to be nice to you after all the shit you said to me on Saturday? You want me to treat you like before after everything that’s happened? I can’t. You hurt me, made me feel like a fucking idiot, Y/N, you broke—I thought we were friends. I feel disrespected and played, and yet here you are again, acting like you have even an ounce of right to act the way you are right now, when it’s you who made it so fucking clear you want nothing to do with me anymore. Do you enjoy making others suffer? Do you want to see me on my fucking knees begging for your attention? I have enough self-respect to step back and move on with my life when someone so blatantly tells it to my face that I am nothing—”

“But you aren’t!” My tone raised without me meaning to as my heart continued to beat out of my chest so fast my ears started ringing. I felt tears prick at my eyes, but I didn’t want to cry. I didn’t want to victimize myself, I just wanted Mingi to understand I made a mistake, that I knew I did, and that I was trying to fix things. I didn’t want us to part ways, especially not like this, he made me realize this second that I didn’t want to lose him, “You aren’t nothing to me. I said those things because I’m scared. I don’t know how to navigate these feelings—”

“Save it, okay?” I was left gaping as Mingi shook his head, pushing his hands in the pockets of his light denim jeans, “I don’t want to hear whatever sob shit you have to say right now, I’m asking you kindly to leave before I call security and delete my number, like I have deleted yours.”

The silence that settled upon us was deafening and my eyebrows furrowed as a tear rolled down my cheek without warning, my chest rising and falling rapidly as I tried to find my breath. That hurt, it hurt more than anything before, it hurt more than when Yunho left me, broke my heart. Mingi meant so much more to me than Yunho ever did, and I bit my lower lip as Mingi seemed unaffected, expression blank and rather bored. Nothing was making sense anymore. I was scared, but I also felt ready to break free of the chains of the past, I wanted Mingi. And knowing all this, I didn’t want to hold back anymore, I didn’t want to consider my next words anymore. I just wanted to speak my mind freely.

“My ex-boyfriend is Jeong Yunho, your best friend.” Mingi had almost turned away from me, but he froze, head slowly turning back to face me once again, “We dated back in high school, many years ago, when we were still some headless and stupid teenagers. But he was the first boy I’ve ever loved and he fucking broke my heart, shattered into pieces with a bright smile on his lips. He promised me many things, and I was naïve, so I believed it all. And because I did, I ended up hurt beyond fixing and I’ve never trusted a man again. He was my first boyfriend and the center of my universe, yet he never cared enough about me to properly break up with me.

“Yunho talked about you all the time. Everything you liked, everything you hated, you were part of our daily conversations and I always wished to meet you, to see what was so great in you that had Yunho gushing all the time. I was jealous, so jealous that I became bitter. I started hating even the mention of your name, I selfishly wanted Yunho to myself, and you gone from his life. I couldn’t understand what was so great about you and why I wasn’t enough. I knew Yunho didn’t love me, but I wanted him to, so I made myself believe it, believe that I was worth more to him than you’ll ever be. And in the process, I stupidly made myself believe that he’d never leave me, that he was the one for me like he has said so many times before.

“He broke my heart so fucking bad that it took years until I could say his name or even see his face again. I am over him now, have been for a long time, but I can’t help still feel bitter about him. I can’t help but associate you with him at times. He made me defensive and untrusting of men, I couldn’t help but assume you’d be just like Yunho when I first met you, at least when I finally realized who you were. I felt so guilty, I tried to push you away but you wouldn’t fucking give up. You are everything yet nothing like Yunho and that scares me, because I want you, Mingi. But I’m scared you’ll abandon me like Yunho did, that you’ll fill my head with empty and pretty fantasies and then leave me alone with them, tearing my heart apart in the process. I want to open up, but I’m scared. I think, however, with you by my side, I’d be able to do that, to let my walls down.”

The silence that settled upon us, once again, was deafening and I gulped, heart racing and making me feel lightheaded as Mingi’s face had fallen, expression finally not as void as before. He looked shocked, but surprisingly, he didn’t look hurt nor like he would hate me for ever. It made me hopeful for a second, it made me sniff loudly and blink away the insisting tears from my eyes. He gulped and took a deep breath, making me stare in his eyes, hopeful and less scared, as he sighed and rubbed at his chin; a stubble was showing. Now that I come to think of it, he looks rather tired with bags under his eyes, and his platinum hair has a blue hue to it.

“I’m sorry he made you go through so much; I know it wasn’t easy.” Mingi’s tone finally lost the edge it had before, finally it wasn’t laced with so much anger, and it almost made me cry, “I kind of—I knew. Not exactly the whole thing, but I suppose I can say I had a feeling that there was history between you and Yunho. It was too obvious whenever I brought him up that you didn’t like him, at first I was confused, but then I suppose everything just clicked into place. The drawing of his eyes, the sweater you lent me and the fact that you gave it to me in the end—I’ve known since then that it was probably Yunho. I never said anything to him, not like that at least, I wanted you to come to me on your own, when you fully trusted me with the information. And I’m sorry, but he—he was an asshole back in high school, he was insecure and he played with everyone’s feelings, he was quite good at manipulating people around him. He’s mentioned dating you, but very few times, and by the time you had broken up I had all but forgotten about you, I suppose I wasn’t much better compared to him.

“But all of this isn’t my fault in the end, and while I completely understand your reasoning now and why you often acted the way you did, I’m sorry, but I can’t just let go of things and start anew. There’s just—too many things that have happened, emotions that you stirred up in me, and I just can’t do it, I—it’s not even about you and Yunho, I don’t give a fuck about it, it was ages ago and Yunho is a changed man and I know he’s long moved on. And you too, I believe you have, you seemed less bitter lately, but I just can’t. I can’t help but ask again, what do you want, YN?”

At least he wasn’t mad at me, but I did feel ashamed that I made him piece everything together on his own, that I wasn’t capable of telling him the truth myself. I have made mistakes, sure, but Mingi apparently didn’t hate me for them, “I just want to apologize, for everything.”

Mingi nodded and I watched in despair as that cold mask slipped back onto his face, expression void of any emotion once again. It made me want to grab his shoulders and shake them, force him to look deep into my eyes and just see everything I felt for him, “That’s fine, I accept your apology. If that’s all, you can leave—”

“But that’s not all!” I snapped, having had enough of being dismissed by him. I saw the way his jaw twitched, the way his eyebrows furrowed at my defiance, at my reluctance to leave just yet. I was being pathetic and a pain in the ass, but I had to make him understand that I was ready to leave all my fears behind for him, to learn how to be a better person next to him. I wanted to change, and I wanted it to happen with him by my side, with him guiding me and teaching me how to be more like him, and less like the shitty person I was for so long. I longed to be the way I was before meeting Yunho, a lot happier and a lot less broody and hateful of the beautiful things that surrounded me, “Mingi, I cannot stop thinking about you. I spend every waking moment when we’re apart wondering what you’re up to, what’s going through your mind, whether you’re okay or not. And I’ve been drawing you, since the first time I saw you, you’ve captured my attention, you’ve made me curious of who you were the longer we spent time together. I don’t want to be like this anymore, I don’t want to hurt you anymore and shut you out, I want to fix everything. I want to—I just want you, Mingi.”

There was a quiet scoff behind Mingi, but neither one of us reacted to it as our gazes bore into each other, my eyes glinting with yearning and his façade slowly breaking down as he released a shaky breath, “Mingi, I adore you.”

“Get out.” For a second, my body froze as I thought he was addressing me, but then, he whirled around and pointed towards the studio’s still open door, “Get out, now.”

And I just realized that the blonde girl had been witness to everything, and I couldn’t help but blanch in embarrassment as she made to interject, but I guess Mingi’s sharp eyes made her reconsider her choice as she huffed and then stormed out of the studio. My cheeks felt hot and I realized the clothes were making me sweaty, so as Mingi hurried towards the door to close it, I shrugged my jacket off and placed it neatly on the back of the sofa together with my thick scarf. And as I looked up, mouth dry as the door clicked shut and Mingi turned around, it felt like time stopped, like the world stopped moving. But Mingi was moving towards me, in nothing more than three steps he stood in front of me, and before I could even as much as try to reason with him or plead more to be forgiven, warm fingers dug into my cheeks and the wind was knocked from my lungs as his plush warm lips slammed against mine, making me gasp as my eyes remained wide open.

『Filthy impetuous soul

I wanna give it to you』

I thought he wouldn’t want anything to do with me, I thought he’d tell me that he needed time to forgive me completely and for us to work things out. But I couldn’t help shudder and feel ecstatic as I grabbed the collar of his shirt and cardigan, my eyes falling shut, as I pulled him closer to my body, savoring the kiss as if it was our first. But it wasn’t anything like that one, it wasn’t soft nor careful nor slow, it was hurried and desperate as Mingi pushed me backward, pressing me against the wall, right between the small space between the sofa and the desk. My arms circled his neck as he grabbed my nape with one big hand and pressed his other into the small of my back, making it arch as my fingers tangled into his soft hair, not pulling, just feeling the need to hold onto something, to keep myself grounded.

And much like the first time, our lips seemed to fit perfectly, and I tried not to keen when he sucked my bottom lip between his teeth, nibbling on the soft flesh, and I tried not to turn into a puddle when he hummed lowly against my lips as my fingers flexed in his hair. Perhaps I kissed him a bit harder and more aggressively as our pace quickened, my hand holding the side of his neck as Mingi pressed his body into mine until it felt like he was trying to forbid me even of the idea of escaping from his clutches, and I had no fucking intention of going anywhere, because in his arms I felt content and safe, and perhaps a bit too hot as goosebumps covered my arms the longer our lips moved hungrily against each other. And when I cupped his cheeks and perhaps held onto them a bit too firmly, his lips parted, and I ignored my lungs screaming for air as my tongue slipped past his parted mouth. I didn’t expect him to moan as our tongues tangled together, all wet and perhaps a little disgusting, but neither one of us cared about that.

I tried to stand on my tip toes for better access as Mingi’s ring clad fingers were suddenly running through my hair and tilting my head back, making my skin tingle where he held my hip firmly. I had been kissed by other people before, but neither felt like with Mingi, neither made me crave more and more and more. But our lungs could only go on so long without air, and I would’ve been embarrassed for the loud gasp I let out when we finally parted, if it wasn’t for Mingi diving straight for my neck and finding the sweet spot that made me putty in his arms. And I tried to ignore his deep grunts as my fingers got tangled in his platinum blonde strands as he pressed open mouthed and wet kisses against my neck, his arms around my hips pulling me into an embrace that had my pulse showing through the skin of my neck. My lips were tingling and my lungs actually hurt, but I couldn’t care less when Mingi finally pulled back and blinked his dark eyes open, pupils dilated and lips so swollen he almost made me chase after them once again.

『Oh, just to see what you'd do

'Cause I'm so drunk on you』

“What’s in the thermos?” His voice was raspier than usual, and it made me bite my bottom lip as my eyes searched his face, his falling on my lips instead.

“Hot chocolate, for peace making.” I answered, sounding a lot more breathless than I actually felt, and Mingi chuckled, the sound deep in his throat. I let my arms fall from his shoulders and instead circled them around his torso, trying to fight off the smile from my lips. Mingi didn’t look angry nor dismissive anymore, but I knew I wasn’t actually forgiven just yet. And that was only fair.

“This is peacemaking, not the hot chocolate.” And there it was, the mischievous glint in his eyes and the smug smirk on his lips as he squeezed my hips once and lowered his face until our lips brushed together, “Although I do appreciate the hot chocolate too.”

“Good, my mom was rather excited when she told me to give it to you.” I pressed a chaste kiss against Mingi’s lips before he could try and say anything, and he chuckled when I pulled away, eyes creasing and crooked front teeth showing.

“What are we now?” His voice was a mere whisper, not insecure nor scared, just wondering, “What do you want?”

I gulped, but decided to be honest. No more hiding my feelings and thoughts from him, “I don’t know just yet, and that’s why I need you to take the lead, but this—I want more of this, of you.”

“Good,” Mingi hummed, lips pursed as he kissed my cheek once before slowly releasing me from his warm embrace, “because I’ve been wanting more of you for fucking ages, doll.”

I couldn’t help but chuckle as suddenly I felt embarrassed and perhaps a little shy, but Mingi seemed to be unphased as he grabbed my tote bag and looked through it because his clothes were in it, “You can keep these, they looked better on you anyway. But you better not give them to Yunho if he ever happens to go over to your house—”

“Mingi.” I snapped mortified and pushed his arm as he dropped the tote bag and burst out laughing, giving me a cheeky smile.

“Want to hear the rest of the song I made for you?”

“For me?”

“Yeah, doll, for you.”

By the time I managed to get home I might as well been on cloud nine and in so much ecstasy that one would think I was on drugs. Which, kind of felt like it after the day I have had—not that I’ve ever done any drugs. I failed to notice my mother’s silhouette in the window of our kitchen when I got out of Mingi’s car and, of course, that meant she saw him get out of his old Honda Prelude and jog after me to kiss me hard and leave me dizzy before he left. And all of that, of course, meant that by the time I unlocked the front door and stepped inside, my mother was leaning against the archway of the kitchen with the widest smirk I’ve ever seen on her face.

“So, did you have sex?”

My eyes widened in mortification and I struggled to step out of my boots and shrug off my jacket, “Mom!”

“So, you did, huh.” It wasn’t even a question, and suddenly running after Mingi’s car sounded a lot better than standing in front of my mother as she bit her bottom lip, giving me a wink.

“We didn’t!” I exclaimed, cheeks flushed a deep red as I cradled the tote bag to my chest, “He needs to take me out on a date first—many dates, actually.”

“Well, he better hurry up then cuz you’re glowing and you’re happy.” I froze at my mother’s words as she looked at me with a serene expression on her face, lips pulled into a small smile, forgetting all about her previous teasing, “He’s good for you, too good. I haven’t seen you so relaxed and happy since—since highschool.”

Since Yunho broke up with me.

“I know, and I will make sure I never hurt him again.” I told my mom and she hummed, looking down at her wristwatch.

“You missed lunch, by the way, so you’ll eat chicken tenders—”

“Again?!”

“Again, exactly. Go wash up before dinner.”

And I was out of her sight in no time, with a newfound rush in my system, skin tingling as I realized I craved to hold my pencil and my sketchbook in my hands. I couldn’t remember the last time I drew something for me and not because it was an assignment. And if hours later the sketch looked a lot like a familiar platinum blonde haired man with sharp eyes and a tall nose wearing blue jeans, a white t-shirt and a beige cardigan over it, accessories many and nails painted black, then I wouldn’t even deny it anymore. Perhaps he would love seeing my drawings. Perhaps I should finally show him.

Mings 🖤: date on wednesday? Me: but im paying this time Mings 🖤: so when we went to the pottery coffee shop it was a date wasnt it, doll Me: maybe it was maybe it wasnt Mings 🖤: no maybes this time

『Oh, but you know me too well

Oh, but you know me too well, well』

❱❱ Next chapter

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theskit · 1 year

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Stickers AU

Important!!!

Direct linking gets rid of the readmore cuts!

If you came here via direct link, or wish to use the direct links to another part of the story, and DO NOT want to spoil the surprise stickers, please click on my blog name to go to the actual post after using the link.

Part 9

《Prev Next》

Danny wasn't sure what he'd expected when he put Bludhaven into his phone's GPS Sunday evening, but finding out it was only 30 minutes away was still surprising. He'd somehow thought it was farther away than that.

Shrugging it off, Danny found an out of the way alley to go invisible and intangible for the short flight. He'd already picked out which of his stickers he would be gracing Nightwing with tonight, now the only thing would be finding him.

Taking a rather scenic route along the coast, Danny got some interesting pictures of the rocky coastline and the water. The light pollution was still pretty bad, but it was a little easier to see the stars outside the city limits.

Reaching Bludhaven, Danny flew around randomly for a while before hearing a shout. Going to investigate he saw three guys cornering a young lady in an alley. Just as he moved to intervene, Nightwing dropped down from above, landing between the men and the lady.

"Mind if I cut in?" He asked as he hit the closest guy with an escrima stick, sending him to the ground with a crackle of electricity as the lady turned and ran. "It's just shocking how quickly I can go through dance partners, sometimes."

Turning to the other two, Nightwing fluidly exchanged punches before grabbing one guy's arm and throwing him over his shoulder into a nearby trashcan, "Sorry, you've been canned for inappropriate behavior," he quipped cheerfully.

The last guy took the chance while Nightwing was busy to pull out a knife. Smoothly dodging the first few swipes, Nightwing flipped over the guy when he overextended himself with a lunge, landing with a crouch and a leg sweep, taking him to the ground too. "Let's not get swept away in all the excitement, now!" He tossed out as he made sure all three guys were secure before calling it in to the police for pickup.

Danny practically sparkled with glee. The cool entrance! The flashy moves! The puns! He just might have a new favorite hero! Well. After Robin, of course. Teen hero solidarity and all that.

Danny landed, waiting to make sure the escrima sticks were put away before approaching Nightwing. He *definitely* didn't want to get hit with those things. Getting electrocuted was *not* on the to-do list this evening, thank you!

Coming up behind Nightwing, just as he finished contacting the police Danny smacked a sticker to the small of his back, yelled "Tag!" and took off running.

It was only after hearing Nightwing shout in surprise and then call out after him, beginning to give chase, that Danny realized he had dropped his invisibility. Whoops. At least he was in his hoodie. It was still a little bloodstained from yesterday, but it wasn't really *that* noticeable. Neither of his parents had mentioned it, and Jazz only gave him a small, searching look before he held up his bandanged finger to show her it was no big deal. It was also the only hoodie he'd remembered to pack.

Nightwing ran after the surprisingly quick child, teenager? they were kind of short... "Hey, kid! Hold up a second!"

The kid laughed, "No can do! Sorry, Nightwing! I needed one last number for my vigilante bingo card and you were it!"

The kid, a boy going by the voice, was dressed in jeans, sneakers, and a slightly oversized hoodie with what looked concerningly like bloodstains at the side. He took a quick left into another alley, one Nightwing knew to be a dead end. Turning the corner as well, Nightwing slid to a stop, glancing around the empty alley. "Kid? Hey, it's ok, I just wanna talk." He called out, doing a quick check behind the dumpster, which was the only thing large enough in the alley to hide behind.

Nothing. Scratching his head, Nightwing looked around again in confusion. There wasn't even a fire escape down this way. Where did he go? And what did he mean by vigilante bingo?

Deciding to check in with the others, he called Tim, unsurprised when he heard the rapid-fire clack of a keyboard in the background when he answered. "Hey, Dick, what's up?"

"Hey, Baby Bird! So, I just had an interesting run-in with a disappearing kid. He mentioned something about vigilante bingo, and I wondered if any of you had as well?"

The keyboard noises stopped abruptly, "He spoke to you? You actually saw him?"

"Well, yeah? Chased him down a dead-end alley, but he went poof. Gone. No sign of him anywhere."

Tim sighed heavily, "Of course. Can you head in to the batcave? We could use some insight into this. So far he's gotten you, me, Batman, and Robin, but no one has gotten a good look at him."

Already heading to where he had his motorcycle stashed, Nightwing agreed, "Sure. You need 5 numbers for a bingo though, and he said I was the last. Heard anything from Hood?"

Tim groaned, "No. Of course he wouldn't tell us if something like this happened to him."

"No worries, Baby Bird. I'll check in with Hood first and then swing by the cave to debrief, how's that?" He asked, swinging a leg over the motorcycle and starting it up.

"That would be great, thanks. If you're the one asking, he might actually tell you what happened," Tim replied, relieved he wouldn't have to try getting information out of Jason himself.

Saying goodbye and then punching in another number, Nightwing revved the engine and took off for Gotham as he waited for Jason to pick up.

"What do you want, Dickiebird?"

Nightwing laughed, "What, no hello, how you doing?"

"Nope. I'm busy," Jason said with a grunt and what sounded like gunshots.

"Well, I had an interesting little encounter tonight, and I have it on good authority you might have had one too. With a certain disappearing boy? Want to meet up at Batburger, get something to eat and tell me about it?"

A few more gunshots echoed down the line before Jason answered, "Fine. I'll meet you at the usual place in an hour."

"Awesome, I'll see you there."

After ordering the food, Dick made his way up to the roof, "Hey there, Little Wing!"

Jason took off his helmet and smirked at him as he accepted his portion of the food. "So, where'd you get stickered, then?"

Dick stared at him in confusion, "Stickered? What?"

Jason frowned, "You said you had a run in with the kid. He came up behind me, scared the hell out of me by yelling 'boo', and slapped a sticker between my eyes when I turned around." Jason paused as he stuffed a few fries into his mouth, "Shorted out my helmet cameras too, though not permanently. Didn't get a good look at him, but he had a funky echo to his voice."

Dick shook his head a bit, "He came up behind me, gave me a smack on the back and yelled 'tag' before running into a dead-end alley with no way out and disappeared. Didn't notice a particular echo, but we were already in a kind of echoey alleyway."

Jason grinned and made a little circle motion with his hand, "Give us a twirl then, let's see."

Turning his back to Jason, Dick heard a loud laugh and a camera noise. It made him happy to hear Jason laugh, even if he *was* apparently the butt of a joke. "Okay, what happened? Why are you laughing?" He asked mock petulantly as he turned back around.

Jason just grinned and showed him his phone, "Kid gave you a tramp stamp, Dickiebird!"

Dick burst out laughing as he looked at the photo, Jason joining in as he wailed overdramatically, "Little Wing! I drove all over Bludhaven *and* Gotham, *and* just ordered food with that!"

Editing this: apparently only the bitchy mobile app has a tag limit. I mostly use mobile. Guess who get to be my guinea pigs on the next installment?? 😁

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#dpxdc #theskit writes #Stickers AU #danny makes his own stickers :3 #and now danny is running around gotham like a gremlin #with a pocket full of homemade stickers #whatever will he do with them? 😈#cries in both dialog and action scenes #whywhywhy are you so difficult to write?!?

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novaursa · 10 days

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The Dragon's Right (8)

- Summary: It was by grace of the gods that firstborn child of Viserys I and Aemma was born a boy and he lived. And all of the rest, scholars will later say, is by power of something more malevolent in kind.

- Paring: male!reader/Rhaenyra Targaryen

- Note: For all the chapters visit my blog. The list is pinned to the top.

- Rating: Mature 16+

- Word count: 5 400+

- Previous chapter: 7

- Next part: 9

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff @alyssa-dayne

The next day, the sun was already setting when you returned to the Red Keep, your muscles sore from the long flight on Silverwing. The day spent soaring through the skies had provided you with the solitude you so desperately needed. The wind, the open air, and the distant landscape below had been a temporary balm for the weight pressing on your mind. Yet, as you dismounted Silverwing in the Dragonpit and made your way back to your chambers, the problems that you had left behind now felt even heavier.

The familiar smell of ash and dragon musk clung to you as you opened the door to your quarters. The moment you entered, you saw her—Rhaenyra—waiting for you. She was seated near the hearth, her arms crossed, and though she said nothing at first, her silence spoke louder than any words. The anxiety in the room was palpable, and you immediately sensed her anger simmering just beneath the surface.

You paused by the door, watching her, trying to gauge her mood. She didn’t look at you when you entered, and it was clear that this was not going to be a pleasant conversation.

The silence stretched, thick and uncomfortable, and you finally spoke, your voice calm but cautious. “Rhaenyra,” you said, stepping further into the room, “I can see you’re upset.”

She turned her head slightly, her lips pressing into a thin line. “Upset?” she echoed, her voice sharp with bitterness. “No, dear brother, I’m not upset. I’m furious.”

You let out a quiet sigh, understanding the source of her anger but unsure how to respond. “I didn’t mean for it to come across that way,” you began, keeping your voice steady. “But I needed to clear my head.”

“Clear your head?” Rhaenyra’s voice rose as she stood up, her hands balled into fists at her sides. “How convenient for you. You can fly away whenever the problems here become too much. But I am left behind, stuck with all of it.”

You frowned, moving closer to her, though you kept your distance, allowing her the space to speak. “That’s not what I intended,” you said softly. “I didn’t mean to leave you to deal with it alone. But… I don’t know how else to handle this right now. I needed to think.”

Rhaenyra let out a harsh, disbelieving laugh, her eyes narrowing as she crossed her arms over her chest. “And what did you think about, then? Did you come to any great revelation while flying above the clouds?”

You shook your head, running a hand through your hair. “No,” you admitted, your voice quieter now. “I’m still not sure. But I know I have to do something. We can’t keep going like this.”

Her eyes flashed with frustration, and she took a step closer, her expression filled with both anger and a deep sense of hurt. “When, then? When will you do something? After they’ve married us off to people we don’t even care about? After we’ve been torn apart and used as pawns for alliances?”

You felt the sting of her words, and it only fueled the fire burning inside you. You had thought about this endlessly, turning the problem over and over in your mind, but the answers were elusive. The weight of your responsibilities to the realm was crushing, but the thought of losing her—of losing what the two of you shared—was unbearable.

“I won’t let that happen,” you said, your voice firm with resolve.

Rhaenyra scoffed, her frustration evident. “How can you promise that? Do you even know what you’re fighting against?”

You stepped closer to her, the distance between you closing, and before she could pull away, you reached out, gently cradling her face in your hands. Her skin was warm beneath your touch, and though she stiffened at first, she didn’t pull away.

“I know what I’m fighting for,” you whispered, your eyes locking onto hers. “I’m fighting for you. For us.”

Rhaenyra’s breath hitched slightly, the anger in her eyes softening, though the frustration still lingered. She wanted to believe you—needed to believe you—but the uncertainty of the future weighed heavily on her heart.

“You can’t make promises you can’t keep,” she murmured, her voice faltering slightly.

“I can,” you insisted, your thumb brushing her cheek gently. “And I will. I won’t let them marry us off to others. I won’t let anyone take you from me.”

Before she could respond, you leaned in, pressing your lips to hers in a deep, lingering kiss. The tension in the room seemed to dissolve as your mouths met, the heat between you reigniting the bond that had been tested by the pressures of the realm. Her arms uncrossed, and she slowly melted into the kiss, her hands finding their way to your shoulders, holding onto you as if grounding herself in the only thing that felt certain—this moment.

When you finally pulled away, your foreheads rested together, your breath mingling with hers. Her eyes fluttered open, and for a moment, the fire in them was gone, replaced by a vulnerability that she rarely showed.

“You’re all I have,” she whispered, her voice trembling slightly.

“And you’re all I need,” you replied, your voice steady and full of the conviction you felt.

The silence that followed was not heavy like before. It was filled with understanding, with the unspoken promise that, despite the forces trying to pull you apart, you would fight for each other.

The sun streamed through the narrow windows of the small council chamber, casting long rays of light across the polished table where King Viserys sat, surrounded by his closest advisors. The atmosphere was lively, a stark contrast to the usual tension that filled the room during discussions of politics and war. This time, the subject at hand was one of celebration, as the annual festival of The Maiden's Day approached—a cherished tradition that honored the Maiden, one of the Seven, with grand festivities throughout King’s Landing.

Viserys leaned back in his chair, a rare smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He always enjoyed the planning of this festival. For a few days, the court could set aside its burdens and enjoy the excitement of tourneys, feasts, and pageantry. The people of the realm, too, celebrated with dancing, music, and markets that filled the streets.

“This year must be grander than the last,” Viserys said, tapping his fingers against the table in thought. “The people need a celebration to lift their spirits. The war in the Stepstones has dragged on, and with the tensions rising in the realm, we must remind them of the peace and prosperity we still have.”

Tyland Lannister, ever the pragmatic voice on the council, leaned forward slightly. “Your Grace, if I may suggest… the people are fond of displays of power and grandeur, particularly when it involves dragons. Perhaps the prince could open the festival with a flight on Silverwing? It would be a grand gesture—one that would certainly captivate the smallfolk.”

The suggestion hung in the air for a moment as the other council members considered it. Viserys’s expression shifted into one of contemplation, his fingers still tapping lightly against the table. The thought of you, his son and heir, leading the festival’s opening with a dragonflight was certainly an idea he hadn’t considered before. The people of King’s Landing adored you, as much for your strength in battle as for your dragon, Silverwing, whose presence alone inspired awe.

“The prince,” Viserys mused aloud, glancing at Tyland. “Yes, that would certainly appeal to the people.” He turned his attention to Otto Hightower, his Hand. “What say you, Otto?”

Otto, ever cautious, stroked his beard as he considered the proposal. “Your Grace, it is an idea with merit. The smallfolk have always been drawn to the spectacle of dragons, and the prince is well-loved. Such a display could certainly bolster the morale of the people.”

Viserys nodded thoughtfully, turning the idea over in his mind. “And what of the safety concerns? A large crowd, dragons in the air… we must ensure nothing goes amiss.”

Tyland waved a hand dismissively. “Your Grace, the people have seen dragons fly overhead before. As long as the proper precautions are taken, it should be perfectly safe. And besides, the sight of Silverwing soaring over King’s Landing would remind everyone of the power of House Targaryen—an image the realm could use right now.”

The other members of the council murmured in agreement, the idea of a public display of dragonriding growing in appeal. Even Lord Lyonel Strong, known for his measured and careful approach, seemed to nod his approval.

Viserys looked around the room, gauging the mood of his council. It was clear they all saw the potential in Tyland’s suggestion. He leaned forward, folding his hands together on the table. “Very well. If my son is agreeable, I see no reason why we shouldn’t proceed with this plan.”

There was a general murmur of approval around the table, and the meeting continued, with various plans being discussed for the festival—jousting tournaments, feasts, and the unveiling of new sculptures in the royal gardens. But as the conversation flowed, your presence became the centerpiece of the event, your flight on Silverwing the crown jewel of the celebration.

Later that day, you were summoned to your father’s chambers. As you entered, the familiar scent of parchment and ink greeted you, along with the sight of Viserys poring over maps and scrolls detailing the plans for The Maiden’s Day festival. He looked up as you approached, a warm smile breaking across his face.

“Ah, my son,” he said, setting the papers aside. “Come, sit with me.”

You took a seat across from him, sensing the excitement in the air. “What is it, Father?”

Viserys leaned forward, his eyes bright with anticipation. “We’ve been discussing the plans for the upcoming festival. The small council has proposed that you lead the opening ceremony with a flight on Silverwing. A grand display for the people.”

You raised an eyebrow, the suggestion catching you off guard. “A flight?” you asked, considering the implications. “You wish for me to fly over King’s Landing?”

Viserys nodded enthusiastically. “Exactly! The people love you, and they love dragons. You flying Silverwing over the city to open the festival would be a spectacle like none other. It would remind everyone of the power and majesty of House Targaryen.”

You could see the appeal of the idea. Dragons had always been a symbol of your family’s dominance, and with Silverwing’s grace and power, it would certainly be an unforgettable moment for the people. But there was also a weight to the responsibility—flying before the crowds, representing the strength of your house, was no simple matter.

“I’ll admit, it’s an intriguing idea,” you said after a moment, leaning back in your chair. “But have the safety measures been considered? Large crowds, a dragon in the air… It’s a dangerous combination.”

Viserys waved his hand dismissively. “The small council assures me it can be managed. You’ve flown Silverwing over the city before. This will be no different, only with more eyes on you.”

You sighed, considering the proposition. “I trust Silverwing, but this is no simple display. If anything were to go wrong…”

“Nothing will go wrong,” Viserys cut in, his tone reassuring. “I know you. I know your skill, and I know Silverwing. The people will adore it. And more importantly, they’ll adore you.”

You hesitated for another moment, feeling the weight of his words. You had always felt the eyes of the realm on you, but this would be different. This was a public display of your strength as the future king, a reminder to everyone that the power of dragons was still very much alive.

Finally, you nodded. “Very well. If it pleases the realm and strengthens our house, I’ll do it.”

Viserys beamed, pride shining in his eyes. “Good. It will be a sight to remember, I’m sure of it.”

As you stood to leave, Viserys reached out and clasped your shoulder. “You are the future of this house,” he said softly. “Let them see it with their own eyes.”

You left the room with your father’s words echoing in your mind, the weight of expectation once again settling on your shoulders. The festival, The Maiden’s Day, loomed ahead, and with it, the eyes of the realm would once more be upon you.

The early afternoon sun bathed the gardens of the Red Keep in a soft, golden light. The scent of fresh blooms filled the air as Rhaenyra and Alicent sat together under a large tree, shaded from the warmth of the day. They were surrounded by a few of Rhaenyra’s handmaidens, who busied themselves with sewing and idle chatter. But despite the peaceful scene, there was an undercurrent of tension between the two friends that even the handmaidens could sense.

Rhaenyra was lounging on a cushioned bench, her body relaxed but her mind anything but. She cast a glance at Alicent, who sat more upright, her expression calm yet distant. It had been some time since their last argument, but the lingering awkwardness still clung to the air between them, despite their best efforts to appear unaffected.

“So,” Rhaenyra began, breaking the silence that had settled over them. Her tone was light, but there was an edge to it. “The preparations for The Maiden’s Day festival seem to be progressing well. I hear they’re planning something grand this year.”

Alicent nodded, her fingers absently smoothing the folds of her gown. “Yes, the whole court is buzzing with anticipation. I imagine it will be quite the spectacle.” She glanced at Rhaenyra, her expression neutral, though her mind churned with conflicting emotions. Spending time with Rhaenyra like this used to feel easy, natural, but now… now it felt like walking on a tightrope.

Rhaenyra forced a smile, watching Alicent carefully, noticing the guarded tone in her voice. It had been like this since the council meeting, since the proposal she and her brother had brought before the king. There was something unspoken between them, a silent competition that Rhaenyra couldn’t quite shake. Even though she knew it was her who held her brother’s affection—who shared his secret moments and desires—she couldn’t ignore the way Alicent hovered around him, even if it was under her father’s orders.

She wasn’t blind. She had seen the looks, the subtle glances between Alicent and her brother. And though she trusted him, the knowledge still stung.

“Yes, a spectacle,” Rhaenyra echoed, her voice carrying just the slightest hint of sarcasm. “I hear there’s even talk of my brother flying Silverwing over the city. It’s all anyone seems to be talking about.”

Alicent smiled faintly, though it didn’t reach her eyes. “The people adore him,” she said softly, her gaze shifting toward the gardens, avoiding Rhaenyra’s piercing look. “It makes sense they would want him to lead the festival. He’s… well-loved.”

“Well-loved indeed,” Rhaenyra replied, her tone sharper than she intended. Her eyes narrowed slightly as she studied Alicent, catching the underlying meaning in her words. “But it’s not just the people who admire him, is it?”

The comment hung in the air, and one of Rhaenyra’s handmaidens shifted uncomfortably, glancing between the two women. Alicent’s face remained carefully composed, though her fingers stilled on her gown.

“I don’t know what you mean,” Alicent said, her voice soft but firm. She met Rhaenyra’s gaze, holding it with a quiet intensity. “He’s the prince and the heir to the throne. It’s only natural that people admire him.”

Rhaenyra smirked, leaning forward slightly, her voice lowering so only Alicent could hear. “Oh, I’m sure. But let’s not pretend you’re not among them, Alicent.”

The jab was subtle but pointed, and Alicent’s grip tightened briefly on her skirts before she forced herself to relax. She wouldn’t rise to the bait. Not here, not now. “I have great respect for your brother, as I do for you, Rhaenyra,” she said, her tone measured, carefully choosing her words. “But my admiration for him is no different than that of the rest of the court.”

Rhaenyra raised an eyebrow, sensing the shift in Alicent’s demeanor. “Of course,” she said, leaning back again, though the challenge in her gaze remained. “I just find it curious how often you seem to be in his company lately. Surely it must be exhausting to spend so much time ensuring his comfort.”

A tense silence followed, the atmosphere thick with unspoken tension. The handmaidens exchanged awkward glances, clearly feeling the weight of the conversation but unsure of how to respond. One of them coughed softly, trying to break the silence, but it only added to the uncomfortable mood.

Alicent, keeping her composure, straightened in her seat. “I am his sister’s friend,” she said, her voice cool. “It’s only natural that I would be close to your family.”

Rhaenyra’s eyes narrowed again, though she kept her smile in place. “Yes, you are my friend, aren’t you? It’s comforting to know that.” The words, though seemingly kind, held a subtle edge to them, one that Alicent didn’t miss.

Alicent nodded once, accepting the veiled barb for what it was. Her own emotions remained carefully guarded, though inside, she felt the sting of Rhaenyra’s words more deeply than she wanted to admit. The two of them had always been close, but since the prince’s return, things had changed. She knew that Rhaenyra was aware of her father’s ambitions, of Otto’s constant push for her to win the prince’s favor. But it wasn’t just Otto’s desires that drove her. There was something more, something she hadn’t even fully admitted to herself yet.

“You know,” Alicent said after a long pause, her voice softening, “I sometimes miss the days when things were simpler between us.”

Rhaenyra’s gaze flickered, the tension in her posture easing just a little. “Simpler?” she echoed, her voice quieter now. “Yes… I suppose things were simpler then.”

For a moment, the two of them sat in a rare silence, the weight of their words settling over them. It was a brief return to the friendship they once had, a fleeting memory of a time before duty, ambition, and jealousy had driven a wedge between them.

But the moment passed as quickly as it had come. Rhaenyra, ever proud, wasn’t one to let her guard down for long. She smiled again, though it didn’t reach her eyes. “Well, we must look forward, not back. The Maiden’s Day will be a grand occasion, I’m sure. And we both have our roles to play, don’t we?”

Alicent smiled faintly, though the sadness in her eyes remained. “Yes,” she agreed quietly. “We do.”

The soft clinking of metal filled your chambers as your young squire, Trystan Tyrell, worked diligently to prepare your gear for the upcoming events. His small hands moved with precision, fastening the straps of your armor and ensuring that every piece was polished to perfection. You watched him absently, seated in front of the hearth, your thoughts drifting to the constant pressure that had been mounting over the past weeks.

The Maiden’s Day festival loomed ahead, a grand spectacle that demanded your presence, both in the tournament and in the ceremonial dragonflight over the city. But the weight of it all felt suffocating, not because of the duties themselves, but because of the constant dismissal of your true desires by your father and the council.

You let out a quiet sigh, running a hand through your hair as you stared into the flames. The fire crackled softly, but it did little to ease the frustration gnawing at your mind. The preparations for the tournament were nothing new—polishing armor, sharpening swords—but the festival itself, the spectacle of flying Silverwing low over the city, felt like a show, a display meant to dazzle the smallfolk while ignoring the real issues that pressed against you like iron chains.

Trystan, ever focused on his duties, was silent as he worked, but you could sense his presence beside you as he finished with the armor and began laying out your dragonriding gear. The boy had proven himself capable and diligent, qualities you appreciated, though at the moment, your thoughts were too consumed with other matters to engage him fully.

The ceremonial dragonrider gear glimmered as Trystan laid it out piece by piece. The polished leather and intricate silver embroidery (to honor Silverwing) marked your status as heir to the Iron Throne, the sigil of House Targaryen woven into the fabric with precision. Each piece was designed for both protection and spectacle, ensuring that when you flew over King’s Landing, the sight of you on Silverwing would be unforgettable. But the thought of it only served to deepen the knot of frustration in your chest.

Trystan, sensing the tension in the room, finally spoke, his voice quiet but filled with the curiosity of youth. “Your Grace, is something troubling you? You’ve seemed… distracted lately.”

You glanced over at him, his wide, honest eyes searching your face for an answer. You appreciated the boy’s directness, though you weren’t sure how much to share with him. He was still young, after all, and your burdens were not easily explained.

You let out a long sigh and leaned back in your chair, crossing your arms over your chest. “It’s just… this festival. These constant celebrations,” you muttered, the frustration evident in your tone. “Every year it’s the same. Grand displays, feasts, tournaments. And for what? To keep the smallfolk entertained while real issues are brushed aside.”

Trystan blinked, clearly taken aback by your bluntness. “But… the people love the festivals, Your Grace. They admire you. They’ll be excited to see you fly Silverwing over the city. It gives them hope.”

You couldn’t help but smile faintly at the boy’s innocence. He saw the festival for what it appeared to be on the surface—a celebration of joy and unity. But there was so much more beneath it, layers of politics and expectations that weighed heavily on your shoulders.

“Yes, they love the spectacle,” you admitted, your voice softening slightly. “But that’s all it is, Trystan. A spectacle. A distraction from the real problems.”

The squire looked thoughtful for a moment, his hands pausing over the straps of your gear. “You mean… the council?”

You nodded, leaning forward and resting your elbows on your knees. “The council, my father, all of them. They talk of unity, of strength, but when I speak—when Rhaenyra and I offer solutions that could actually benefit our House—they dismiss us. As if we’re children playing at being rulers.”

Trystan frowned, his brow furrowing in confusion. “But… you’re the prince. They should listen to you.”

A bitter chuckle escaped your lips at the boy’s words. “You would think so. But being a prince means more than just having a voice. It means living under the constant weight of duty. My father… he believes in tradition, in keeping the realm at peace through alliances and displays like this festival. But he doesn’t see what’s really needed.”

Trystan’s eyes widened slightly, and he stood a little straighter. “What is needed, Your Grace?”

You stared into the flames for a long moment before answering, your voice low and filled with conviction. “Change. We can’t keep pretending everything is fine while the realm simmers with threat from all sides. The war in the Stepstones, Dorne’s constant provocations, the internal strife between the great Houses… these are not problems that can be solved with tournaments and festivals.”

The boy remained silent, clearly absorbing your words. His innocence was endearing, but you could see the wheels turning in his mind. He had always been a bright lad, and though young, he had a keen sense of observation.

Trystan finally spoke again, his voice hesitant but thoughtful. “Do you… do you think the festival is wrong, then? That it’s not worth doing?”

You shook your head, offering the boy a small, reassuring smile. “No, the festival has its place. The people need hope, and they need to see that their leaders are strong. It’s just… it’s hard to focus on such things when I feel that we’re being kept from what truly matters.”

Trystan seemed to understand, nodding slowly as he continued adjusting the gear. “I’m sure the people will appreciate seeing you fly, Your Grace,” he said softly. “They look up to you.”

You sighed again, running a hand through your hair. “Perhaps. But sometimes I wonder if that’s enough.”

The room fell into a comfortable silence as Trystan finished preparing the gear. The ceremonial leathers, embroidered with dragons and silver thread, sat perfectly arranged on the bench beside your armor. The festival, the tournament, the dragonflight—it was all set in motion, and soon you would have to play your part.

As the flames flickered in the hearth, you rose from your chair and walked over to the window, staring out over the city below. The sight of King’s Landing stretched before you, bustling with life and activity. It was a city that depended on you—on your House—to lead. And though you would fulfill your role in the festival, the weight of responsibility and the need for change still pressed heavily on your mind.

Trystan, ever loyal and attentive, stood quietly behind you, waiting for your next command. You turned to him after a moment, your expression softer but still marked with determination.

“Thank you for your help today, Trystan,” you said, your voice filled with gratitude. “I appreciate your hard work.”

The boy bowed his head respectfully. “It’s my honor, Your Grace.”

As Trystan gathered the gear and prepared to leave, you found yourself staring into the fire once more. The festival would come and go, the spectacle would dazzle the people, but the real battles—the ones that mattered—were still to be fought. And you would not let them be ignored any longer.

The sun had barely risen when the streets of King’s Landing came alive with the energy of The Maiden’s Day festival. The morning air was cool but filled with the sounds of bustling crowds, laughter, and the vibrant notes of musicians who had already set up along the cobbled streets. Stalls selling food, trinkets, and colorful garlands lined every avenue, and children ran freely, their faces painted with joy as they darted between groups of excited adults.

The city had transformed into a sea of celebration, with banners hanging from every building, their colors catching the light as they fluttered in the gentle breeze. The smell of roasting meats and freshly baked bread mingled with the scent of flowers being handed out by smiling vendors. The mood was infectious, and even the most serious-faced guards allowed themselves a moment to enjoy the spectacle.

But it wasn’t just the music and laughter that had the people excited. A ripple of anticipation spread through the streets as word began to pass from one group to the next: the prince would be flying Silverwing today. People began craning their necks, eyes scanning the skies, waiting for the moment when they would catch sight of the dragon’s mighty wings.

Suddenly, a shadow passed overhead, casting a brief darkness over the marketplace. Gasps filled the air, followed quickly by cheers as people looked up to see the enormous, gleaming form of Silverwing soaring above them. The dragon’s wings spread wide, catching the morning sun and reflecting a brilliant silver sheen. And there you were, perched atop her back, your figure a regal silhouette against the clear sky.

The crowd erupted into applause, and shouts of excitement rang out as Silverwing dipped lower than expected, gliding gracefully just above the rooftops. The sight of the dragon, so close to the ground, left the people in awe. Mothers clutched their children close, while men raised their mugs in salute, shouting praises to their prince.

“She’s flying so low!” someone in the crowd exclaimed, their voice filled with wonder.

“The prince is showing us his mastery of the skies!” another shouted, their eyes wide with admiration.

Silverwing’s massive wings beat steadily, creating gusts of wind that ruffled the banners and sent hats flying from the heads of those too close. The dragon’s descent over the crowded streets was so precise, so controlled, that it was clear to all just how skilled you were as a dragonrider. The people of King’s Landing had seen dragons before, but never like this—so close, so tangible. It was a reminder of the power and majesty of House Targaryen.

As you guided Silverwing through the city, you could hear the cheers and gasps from below, feel the energy of the crowd pulsing up toward you. Silverwing’s eyes glinted with intelligence, and you could sense her excitement as well. She was always at her best in the air, her wings cutting through the sky with ease, her every movement precise and graceful.

You circled the city twice more, performing a series of slow, sweeping turns. Each time you passed over the main square, the crowds erupted into fresh waves of cheers. Children pointed excitedly, their eyes wide with amazement as they watched the dragon glide effortlessly through the air. You brought Silverwing lower still, her massive tail skimming dangerously close to the rooftops before she ascended again, soaring high above the streets to the delighted roars of the people below.

From your vantage point, you could see the entire city stretched out beneath you—its winding streets, its towers and keeps, the narrow alleyways filled with life and color. But your destination was now clear: the ceremonial pyre that had been prepared in the heart of the city.

Silverwing banked gently to the left, her wings adjusting as you guided her toward the center of the festival grounds. The pyre stood tall in the middle of the square, stacked high with wood and kindling. It was the traditional signal that marked the official opening of The Maiden’s Day festival. Once the pyre was lit, the celebrations would begin in earnest.

As you approached, you whispered softly to Silverwing, feeling the familiar bond between you and your dragon. She let out a low, rumbling growl of understanding, and her chest began to glow with the faint light of dragonfire building within her. The crowds below watched in breathless anticipation as you brought Silverwing lower, her wings barely a few feet above the ground.

And then, in one fluid motion, Silverwing opened her maw and released a torrent of brilliant, orange-red flames. The pyre below was instantly engulfed in dragonfire, the wood crackling and sparking as the flames roared to life. The crowd erupted into cheers, their voices rising in a deafening roar of approval. The sight of the flames, the heat radiating from the pyre, and the presence of the dragon overhead—it was a moment of pure spectacle, one that the people would speak of for years to come.

You urged Silverwing upward once more, her wings beating powerfully as she rose above the flames. The fire blazed brightly, a symbol of the festival’s beginning, and the sound of trumpets echoed through the streets, signaling that the festivities had officially commenced.

As Silverwing soared above the city, you glanced down at the faces of the people below—men, women, and children alike, all looking up at you with awe and admiration. The sight filled you with a strange mixture of pride and frustration. Pride for the strength of your House, for the connection you shared with your dragon. But the frustration remained, lingering beneath the surface, because as grand as this display was, you knew it was just that—a display. A performance for the smallfolk, meant to distract from the real issues that weighed heavily on your mind.

You took a deep breath, trying to push the thoughts aside as Silverwing carried you further from the square. For now, the people were happy. For now, the celebrations were enough to keep them content. But you couldn’t shake the feeling that all of this—the pageantry, the spectacle—wasn’t enough to solve the deeper problems facing the realm.

As Silverwing glided effortlessly above the city, you made your way back toward the Dragonpit. The cheers of the crowd slowly faded into the distance, but their energy remained with you, a reminder of the power you held—and the responsibility that came with it.

The festival was in full swing, the city below a riot of color and sound. But your mind was already turning toward the future, toward the battles that lay ahead, both on the field and in the halls of power. Today, the people had seen their prince soar above them, a symbol of strength and unity. But tomorrow? Tomorrow would be a different story entirely.

#house of the dragon #hotd x reader #hotd #hotd x y/n #hotd x you #alicent hightower #rhaenyra x you #rhaenyra x reader #rhaenyra targaryen #rhaenyra x y/n #rhaenyra x male reader

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unforth · 10 months

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I had a day off yesterday.

And I can already practically hear the assumptions that such a statement is prompting the reader to make. Those assumptions are wrong. I don't mean I didn't work. I did, for about 8 hours. That's not at all what I mean.

I mean my wife took the kids out at 9:30, spent the night with her mom, isn't back yet the next morning.

There are things I NEED people on this website to understand about parenting. And I've talked about it before, and I'll talk about it again, because honestly the way that Tumblr as a cohort talks about parents makes me sick. Multiple polls have shown that only about 2% of people on here are parents. We're a huge minority, and we're constantly talked over, ignored, or accused of being bad parents (like, personally, I have had people reply to my comments or come on to my posts and tell me I shouldn't have my kids). In my case, being a parent means I'm almost 41, I'm married to @ramblingandpie, and our children are inching up on being 8 and 6 years old.

My entire day, and therefore my entire life, revolves around them. I'm up most mornings at 5 AM, because that's the earliest they're "allowed" to wake up, and so my brain just defaults to being awake around then - better to wake up before them, at least then I get a few minutes in the morning. Between 5 and 7, I sit with them, do my social media, work on side blogs, study Chinese. Then it's helping them get ready for school, then my wife or I or both get them on the bus, and then I work until the last possible minute, which is either when I need to go pick them up for an after school activity or when I need to go down and meet them off the bus. My afternoons are after school activities, chores such as washing the dishes and cleaning up toys, talking with them, working with them, playing with them. Their bedtime starts at 7:40, and my son gets scared if I leave before he falls asleep so I sit with him until about 8:15. As soon as he's asleep, I go fall on my face, sleep as best I can, then wake up and do it again. Overnight, it's hard to sleep deeply, because about once a week someone will wake up in the middle of the night and need help. That could be as minimal as a hug or as complex as having to completely change the bedding on a bunk bed at 2 AM while also comforting a child who is afraid they'll be in trouble, or afraid they're sick, or afraid of their nightmare, or, or, or. Further, if a child is awake, there is always noise. I usually study Chinese with two or more competing sources of noise. I read the same way. My life is loud, and active, and consists of constant interruptions.

I adore my family, and I love my children, but this is terrible for me.

I do all of this as an neurodivergent introvert. My clinical depression is at least medicated, mostly because post-partum depression after I gave birth the first time nearly drove me to suicidal in under a week (we were expecting this and were prepared, fortunately, getting help was as simple as a phone call). The constant noise and interruptions and forced socialibility are about the worst combination of home-life I could be subjected to. I spend far too many early mornings just breathing deeply and gearing myself up to be subjected to the wall of Loud, Boisterous, Needing-My-Attention that is every minute when anyone else in the house is awake.

So what did my day off look like?

I helped get the kids ready to go and did some morning chores. I'd been up at 4:30 AM so I also had already social media'd and studied. Then, while my wife finished the preparations, I started work, and I worked from about 8 am to about 4 pm, straight. I didn't get hungry so didn't bother stopping for lunch. No one interrupted me, no one asked me to look at anything they'd built, no one broke my concentration, no sounds could be heard except those I'd chosen myself.

I'd been out the day before at a local shopping street and listened closely to the things the kids said they wanted, so at 4 I grabbed a couple orders I needed to ship for work and drove to our local downtown, dropped the orders in a post box, then went back to the shops and did some Christmas shopping in the 45 minutes or so before everything closed. I think I'm basically done with what we'll get them - other bigger things will be left to grand parents - so that's a load off, I literally had a stress dream earlier this week about it being 12/24 and having forgotten to do the shopping and having to go to (oh horrors) the mall on the day before Christmas. (Reminder: I'm a Jewish atheist. It's just virtually impossible not to Holiday in the Culturally Christian Hellscape that is the US. Also, my wife is Christian. So.) Found something cute for my wife, too, even tho I already know the main thing I'm getting her. Then, I realized - one of my favorite restaurants is on that block. So. I went there. I sat by myself at a table, only the indistinct restaurant hubbub around me. I read four or five chapters of my book, and ate a savory crepe, and drank lovely fruit tea, and got a scone to-go that I'll eat for lunch today. It was more than I probably should have spent on myself - about $25, including tip - but fuck it. I only get maybe a handful of days off all year, and I'm allowed to indulge a little.

Then I came home. There were no lights on. There was no noise. I had considered doing some more merch work while watching TV on the actual television (my kids are too young for subtitled shows, so usually if I want to watch My Shows I either have to do it on my computer when they're not around, or put them on and read all the subtitles aloud while trying to keep up and process the actual meaning of what I'm reading). But when I got back, the quiet and dark was so goddamn NICE that instead I curled up on the couch and read more of my book. I did that until bedtime - still about 8:15, because I'm exhausted. Then...I went to bed. And I slept long and deep, knowing that there was no chance I'd be interrupted and woken up, I didn't have to be, even in sleep, alert to every noise and possibility that I'd be needed.

I'm still exhausted and burned out, but even one night to myself felt really, really nice.

Saying "Tumblr does X" as a universal statement is doomed to failure, but generally speaking, the parenting posts I see on Tumblr, the ones with tens or hundreds of thousands of notes, speak what's apparently widely seen as a truism on here: that unless someone wants to spend 24/7 with their kids, to be 100% emotionally available at all times, is always kind and patient and perfect, they are a bad parent, maybe even abusive. I remember when covid started, there were multiple posts actively mocking the "oh god, my kids are now home all the time, how am I supposed to do this?" attitude that a lot of parents posted in despair. WhY dId YoU hAvE kIdS iF yOu DoN't WaNt To SpEnD tImE wItH tHeM?

Look at what my usual day looks like.

Look at what my day off looked like.

Do you really think I don't want to spend time with my kids? Do you really think I don't love my kids?

But I'm not a fucking MACHINE. I'm a PERSON. That's what people on Tumblr seem to forget. PARENTS ARE PEOPLE. The same tumblrinas who post ~uwu be kind to yourself rest if you need to, you should forgive yourself for that mistake you made~ will turn around, with zero sense of irony, and post "you're a bad parent if you ever raise your voice around a child."

Expecting parents to be perfect means expecting parents to be inhuman. It also means that a parent can't be poor (can't spend all your time being the perfect parent if you have to work multiple jobs or weird hours!), can't be introverted (can't be a perfect parent if you're not completely emotional available, god forbid socializing is exhausting for you), can't be on the ADHD or autism spectrum (what do you mean you forgot to get your kid to a doctor's appointment once? what do you mean over-stimulation can make you angry? how dare you get angry at a kid!), can't be depressed (gotta get out of bed every single day, gotta always be upbeat, patient, happy, or else that's Evil), can't be (like my wife) physically disabled (what do you mean your hands hurt too much to hold a child's hand? are you denying them touch?? CRUEL). And when the only answer you can offer to that is, "if you can't be that perfect you shouldn't be a parent," then you're saying people who aren't middle class to wealthy, people who aren't neurotypical, people who aren't physically able, shouldn't have children.

And honestly...what the fuck is your problem?

I'm not perfect. I tell my kids to just leave me alone sometimes. I raise my voice, especially when one of my kids starts punching the other, but also sometimes just cause I'm exhausted and Can't Anymore. I've forgotten an appointment by accident and felt like a total fucking idiot, and I've skipped an after school activity because I just wasn't up for taking them. I've served them more unbalanced, unhealthy meals than I can count. I've made many, many mistakes, but I've also done my best, and I love my kids, and I hope that when they grow up, they'll still love me even as they recognize that I wasn't perfect, just as I've come to accept my own parents' short-comings while still loving them very much. They're people, too, and the older I get, the more I understand where they were coming from.

When I fuck up, I apologize.

When they tell me they're unhappy with something I've done, I apologize, and I try to do better. Sometimes I even succeed.

This shit is hard, yo. And it's getting harder every year.

I'm BEGGING Tumblr: you need to start seeing parents as people. The way y'all talk about parenting on here is toxic, and genuinely harmful, and frankly exhausting. You have no idea what the reality of raising kids is like, and you need to shut the entire fuck up.

I had a day off yesterday.

I might get one more before the end of 2023.

I already can't wait. I am so, so, so tired. sigh

(if you actually read this whole rant and even a single word of it resonated for you, please reblog it. I'm tired of never seeing positive posts about parenting while I see negative ones with a bajillion notes.)

#unforth rambles #parenting #momblr #nothing prompted this #i just think about writing posts like this all the time #because the low-level background buzz of how much tumblr hates parents is a constant stressor tbh #and every once and a while i tip over the line end up Writing the Thing #and so here we are again #god i have so much to do today and instead i procrastinate with this #oops

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megalony · 1 year

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Family

This is my first Eddie Diaz imagine from 9-1-1, I hope you will all like it. Any feedback or requests are always lovely.

Taglist: @lunaticspoem @butlegendsneverdie @langdonzvoid @jennyggggrrr @rogmeddows @radiob-l-a-hblah @rogertaylorsbitontheside @chlobo6 @rogertaylors-lipgloss @sj-thefan @omgitsearly @luckytrashgooprebel @scarsout @deaky-with-a-c @killer-queen-ofrhye @bluutac @vousmemanqueez-blog @jonesyaddiction @milanosaurus @httpfandxms @saint-hardy @7-seas-of-fat-bottomed-girls @mrsalwayswritex @rogerina-owns-me @hellsdragon @im-an-adult-ish @crazylittlethingg @allauraleigh @onceuponadetectivedemigod @ceres27 @avyannadawn @noonenuts @sleepylunarwolf @coverupps @justagirlthatlovedtoread

Masterlist

Summary: When (Y/n) isn't well, all she wants is her partner Eddie by her side.

Enjoy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Closing her eyes, (Y/n) leaned her head against the window and tried to take deep breaths to see if it would help relieve the slight nausea she was starting to feel, but it didn't. Each bump the truck rolled over had her stomach churning and every sharp corner spun her head.

When the truck made a harsh break, (Y/n) kicked her foot out and pressed the heel of her boot into the chair opposite to steady herself but she could feel her breaths jittering past her trembling lips.

"You good?" Buck raised a brow and smiled as (Y/n) gave a thumbs up but he could see she wasn't doing great at the moment.

"I'm just great,"

(Y/n) ignored the small chatter through the headphones but when she opened her eyes again and dared to look across from her, she felt shivers spiking down her nerves. Eddie was watching her intently, and he didn't look pleased. Usually when her partner looked at her, he cocked a brow or smirked or tilted his chin down and smiled to himself. She loved it when she caught him staring because Eddie would look up at her through his lashes in such a sweet, innocent way that made her heart flip.

He wasn't looking at her with those innocent eyes now, he was looking at her through stern pupils and furrowed brows and his jaw was clenched. He had both his hands clenched together on his lap and his head was turned down just a little but his eyes were trained on (Y/n).

And when he shook his head and mumbled a quiet 'no you're not' (Y/n) pressed her lips together to prevent a frown.

He told her to have a few more days off, he said she wasn't well and not up to being back at the job just yet. Part of him prayed if she did come back then Bobby would put her on light duties or keep her at the station and away from any calls but they were short staffed and she was needed.

For a week now (Y/n) had been sick with a bug and although she looked better than before, she wasn't one hundred percent.

(Y/n) was glad to throw off the headphones when the truck came to an unsteady stop and they could all get out at the scene. There was already another unit here but they needed back up to help evacuate the building and tend to anyone with injuries.

She grabbed her helmet and followed out the truck, the last in the line to climb down but as soon as the temperature change and the gravity shift hit her, (Y/n) felt uneasy. When her feet were planted on the floor, her hand automatically reached out and her fingers curled around Eddie's arm over his florescent jacket just as he was putting his helmet on.

"What's wrong?" He whispered softly and his head turned to look down at her. He could feel her tight grip on his upper arm and he could sense how close she was standing to him like she was trying to merge herself into his back.

"Just a wobble,"

"Promise?"

"I promise," (Y/n) nodded and batted her eyes up at him but she couldn't bring herself to smile, not yet. She could feel the adrenaline pounding through her blood from arriving on scene but it wasn't enough to rid her chest of the tightening feeling or relieve her tense stomach.

She forced herself to let go of his arm even though she didn't want to, and secured her helmet and gloves. She could feel her stomach knotting but one of the many knots started to ease when Eddie stayed stood beside her with his arm and shoulder in front of her like a shield. He didn't move an inch away from her as they stood waiting for orders and even though he had his hands clasped in front of him and his body facing forwards, (Y/n) could feel his gaze constantly drifting over to her.

"Okay, Buck and Eddie, I want you round the back with the 211 to evacuate. Chimney you with me through the front to make sure everyone gets out. And (Y/n)," Bobby had either heard the brief conversation in the truck or he guessed just by looking at her that she wasn't one hundred percent yet. "Go with Hen, help check everyone over and assist medics."

(Y/n) didn't question it, she knew not to and deep down she was relieved to have an easier task than running in blind to get everyone out. She wouldn't be quick enough today and she didn't hold enough strength to pull anyone out and run back in for a second go. Helping the wounded was a much easier job for (Y/n), it was automatic to tend to people and help with their injuries whereas Buck and Eddie were far better suited to run into the burning buildings and find ways to get out.

Finishing a callout had never felt so good.

When the last deeply wounded person was escorted onto an ambulance and the medics were assuring everyone else that they would be fine, (Y/n) felt like a weight had lifted from her shoulders but another one simultaneously settled in her stomach.

Her chest was heaving even though she hadn't been running around or rushing as much as the boys had. She had gone down the rows of injured people, assessing, patching up, calling for help and moving on. But it wasn't fast-paced and it shouldn't have made her as breathless as it did.

With all the equipment packed up in the medic bag, (Y/n) hoisted it up on her shoulder and made a slow walk away from the make shift tents, over towards the fire trucks that felt like they were a mile away.

She barely got towards the truck before it felt like her lungs were filling up with stones and all the air was starting to drain out of them like they had a leak. And bending over with her hands on her knees only awakened the sickness she had been feeling earlier and the pressure on her lungs started to swim down to her stomach.

Straightening up, (Y/n) made a brisk shuffle over to the truck and dumped the bag in the small compartment while her chest heaved. She threw the helmet off and chucked it inside the truck before letting her head fall forward against the side of the truck, willing the urge to be sick to subside and leave her be.

When everyone else started to filter back towards her, (Y/n) used what little strength she had left to pull herself up into the truck and take her seat at the far side next to the window.

Her hands clasped together between her parted knees and she stooped over, lowering her head down as her chest and sternum started to burn.

"Everything alright?" Eddie grabbed the door and leaned his head up to look over at (Y/n) but when she looked up and managed a smile, he felt a little calmer. He hopped up into the truck and took the liberty of taking the seat next to her, bumping their shoulders while he grabbed two sets of headphones and handed one over to her.

"My chest was a bit tight but I'm okay."

That didn't do too much to calm Eddie's raging nerves when he knew for a fact that she never usually struggled with any problems like this. He was starting to think she had something more like the flu or even pneumonia rather than a simple cold.

But (Y/n) lived with him and Christopher and neither of them had gotten the cold she supposedly had, they both felt perfectly fine and they were around (Y/n) everyday.

(Y/n) smiled when Eddie looped his arm around her shoulders and gently reeled her into his side so she could rest her head on his shoulder. He kissed the top of her head and kept his lips there for a while, breathing into her hair as the rest of the team slowly flooded into the truck. They were all ready to head back to the station and get something to eat and have a rest. And possibly a shower.

When they got back to the station, everyone drifted off in their own direction. Hen wanted to refill the medic bags in case they had to rush out on another call, Chimney stayed with the truck to start cleaning it and Bobby and Buck filtered upstairs. (Y/n) followed Eddie towards the lockers and took off her jacket while he rummaged around in his locker for a towel, he needed a quick shower.

Eddie paused with his arm halfway in his locker when he felt a pair of arms suddenly curve around his waist and a familiar face press into his back between his shoulder blades. A smile wormed its way onto his face and he stayed motionless for a minute, maybe two, relishing in the hug and comfort before he turned around in her arms.

"I'm gonna grab a shower, promise you'll tell me if you feel worse." Eddie loosely curved his arms around (Y/n)'s neck and brought his lips up against her temple.

He needed to feel assured that if she felt like she was going to be sick or thought she was getting worse, she would tell him. They both knew he was going to worry for the rest of the shift anyway but if Eddie thought (Y/n) was starting to get worse he would tell Bobby and try to get her to go back home and rest.

"I promise,"

They parted ways and (Y/n) trudged slowly up the stairs towards the kitchen and eased down into one of the navy blue armchairs at the back of the loft space. She needed a sit down for a little while, just to steady her system and feel better, then she could offer Bobby a hand with the cooking he almost always did.

(Y/n) wasn't sure how long she stayed there for. She knew Buck had walked past her a few times because each time he did, he ruffled her hair or patted her head in a teasing manner and laughed to himself. He was like a big brother, he just loved to wind her up or catch her by surprise, it was his favourite pass time.

For a while, (Y/n) thought she was about to nod off and fall asleep but she managed to stay focused on the radio playing softly in the background and the sound of Bobby comically singing along.

But when an overwhelming wave of sickness washed over her like a tidal wave, (Y/n) smothered a groan with the back of her hand and shifted around in the chair. She laid her head down on the armrest, curled her knees up to her stomach and squashed her frame into the seat to try and see if it would take away the sickness and make breathing a little easier. If anything, it made the tension worse. Her chest and upper torso muscles were tightening so badly it was making her mind go numb.

She bound her arms to her chest and pressed a hand down on her stomach to see if a different, more direct form of pressure would help. Her stomach felt uneasy like she was going to throw up but the sickness never came.

Her teeth clamped down on her lip and she took a deep breath through her nose, held it for a few seconds and released it through her lips, repeating the cycle a few times to try and calm down and breathe through the pain.

Everything seemed to slow down yet speed up at the same time, her sense of time was distorted and her vision blurred before her eyelids pulled down like shutters trying to prevent her from feeling worse or experiencing her world spinning on its axis.

All the chatter and music and noise filling the loft started to filter out into static and when her stomach churned, (Y/n) slowly started to get up.

She was going to be sick.

Every inch of her skin was sweltering and droplets of sweat glistened on her in the harsh lighting and she was flushed everywhere even though the loft was fairly cold with the air con and she hadn't done anything tiring in over an hour. The burning in her stomach turned into an intensifying ache in her abdomen and each and every muscle was contorting and twisting inside her in a way which felt impossible.

The agonising twist of her muscles stopped her from standing up straight but she tried her best to look as okay and normal as possible.

One arm bound around her stomach and her other hand gripped the metal banister as she almost slipped down the stairs and hobbled through the back towards the showers where the toilets were.

As soon as she was in, (Y/n) let herself hunch over and drop to her knees in one of the toilet cubicles, getting there just in time to throw up.

She kept one arm around her stomach and used the other to rest over the toilet so her burning forehead could flop on her arm. the static in her ears got worse until it was deafening white noise and she began to shake despite the cold air in the bathroom.

"(Y/n)… just checking if you're okay? You didn't look too good back there," Hen cautiously opened the bathroom door and peered around, unsure how far to walk in in case (Y/n) didn't want help and was actually okay. She had seen (Y/n) hobble down the stairs and stumble towards the toilets and she looked like she was in pain, making Hen worry.

(Y/n) couldn't help the small cry that escaped her lips when Hen pushed open the cubicle door and froze, staring down at her. This was not how she wanted her coworkers to see her, curled over, throwing up feeling feeble and useless and like someone they would see at one of their scenes rather than a firefighter in the station.

"Okay, can I take a look at you?" Hen bent down in the doorway but (Y/n) coiled away, inching further towards the toilet. She didn't want anyone seeing her like this or reaching out to touch her.

She wanted Eddie.

"G-get Eddie, please…" Her lips curved down at the sides and her lower lip started to wobble before a pathetic howl left her lips and she gasped to take in a proper breath.

"Okay, okay I'll fetch him now."

As soon as Hen backed out and bolted from the bathroom, (Y/n) feebly pushed away from the toilet but she didn't know what she was doing or where she was trying to go. Her arms bound around her lower waist and she doubled over, tucking her head into her knees to smother her cries and soak up her tears and runny nose.

Her stomach was on fire, it felt like her intestines were being twisted and pulled down and her chest was burning like she was on fire on the inside. All she wanted to do was curl up as small as possible and pass out to make everything stop. She wanted to wake up at home in bed with Eddie and have this be a bad dream or a distant memory from weeks ago that she didn't have to remember.

"I want Eddie." It came out as a broken wail and she wasn't speaking to anyone in particular but when she heard his rushed footsteps, she knew he heard her but she couldn't find the will power to be embarrassed.

"(Y/n)? (Y/n), baby it's me. Oh, baby," Bursting into the bathroom, Eddie slumped down on his knees in the doorway but his heart burst when his eyes set on his girlfriend. She was curled in on herself like she was trying to hide or become as small as possible but he could see her shaking and he could hear her smothered cries.

He wasn't sure what to do or where exactly to touch her but he knew he couldn't help her when she was curled over like this.

Doubling down, he leaned his chest on his knees so he was more level with her and placed his hands carefully on her upper arms to let her know it was him.

"Come here, sit up for me sweetheart." He slowly leaned up and pulled (Y/n) up with him until she was knelt up on the floor the same as him so he could look her over. But it still wasn't going to be easy when she was in the cramped cubicle and he was wedged into the doorway that wasn't much bigger than his frame. "I'm gonna move you just a little, okay? I've got you, take deep breaths for me baby."

With his arms wound around her waist as carefully as he could and (Y/n)'s head burrowed into his neck and her hands on his shoulders, Eddie slowly moved onto his feet and hunched over. He held her tight and slowly shuffled backwards until he was out of the cubicle and (Y/n) was coiled into his chest.

(Y/n) dug her nails into his shoulders when he sat her down on the cold tiled floor so her knees were pulled up but her feet were now on the floor and he knelt back down beside her.

"Talk to me, what's happening?"

"Hurts… God, it hurts Eddie, a-and I've been sick," (Y/n) coiled one arm back around her stomach to show him where the pain was but her other hand stayed puncturing into his bicep like tallons. And she leaned forward to press her temple into his shoulder, finally feeling a tiny bit of relief when he kissed her temple and rubbed his hand up and down her leg.

When he pulled back, he moved his hand and pressed the back of his hand against her temple, sighing to himself when he felt that she was starting to get a fever.

"Can I?" Eddie moved his hands towards (Y/n)'s stomach and when she nodded, he carefully moved her arm away and peeled up her shirt that had been tucked into her trousers.

He pressed his fingertips against her right side around the bottom of her ribcage, then towards the left before moving down and applying minimal pressure around her abdomen. He didn't like the reaction he got; flinches, whimpers and bubbling cries when he moved lower down. A sigh fell past his lips again and he held his fingers over her wrist to check her pulse, it was fast but not dangerously high.

"It might be some kind of internal blockage or a hernia," Eddie turned to look behind him at Hen but the way he rolled his lips and tensed his shoulders gave away the panic he was feeling.

There were a few possibilities of what this could mean, none of them good and Eddie couldn't do anything or make a judgement call and guess. He needed to take her to the hospital and they both knew it.

"Take her, I'll go clear it with cap." Hen was out the door the moment she finished speaking. They all knew Bobby would fully agree with them, (Y/n) needed medical attention that Hen or Chimney couldn't give and Eddie had to go with her. He couldn't stay on shift and worry, waiting anxiously for a phone call that he could miss if they had another call soon.

"We're off to the hospital baby, ready?"

(Y/n) nodded and when Eddie shuffled closer she took the hint and wound her arms around his neck. She closed her eyes and buried her face in the crook of his neck, bracing herself when an arm looped around her lower back and beneath her knees. At least when he lifted her up she stayed much in the same position, knees near her stomach and her body curled over slightly which felt best to relieve the pain.

She nuzzled her face into his chest just beneath his shoulder when he walked out the bathroom, trying to hide herself away from prying eyes. She didn't want anyone looking at her and seeing her like this and she knew Eddie felt the same when his chest tensed beneath her and his jaw tightened and rested on top of her head.

***

(Y/n) felt the need to curl her knees up to her stomach again but she knew she couldn't sit like that, not when the doctor was finally about to assess her.

She didn't know who to look at, the doctor with a soft yet somewhat uncomforting smile, the nurse stood on her left or Eddie on her right. She had been staring up at Eddie for the last ten minutes and she knew he could feel her eyes on him. The concentration in his eyes was sweet and if (Y/n) could of smiled up at him she would. She loved the intensity burning in his eyes and the way he kept flexing his biceps, moving from having his arms crossed over his chest to hold (Y/n)'s hand and run his fingers through her hair. He didn't know what to do with himself.

Eddie could of cried with relief when they got transferred through from the waiting room into here and (Y/n)'s crippling cramps seemed to dull down somewhat. He noticed the way she uncurled herself just a little and stopped clenching her jaw and writhing in agony and it made him feel faint and relaxed and relieved all at once.

"Okay, let's take a look." The doctor smiled again as she moved over the ultrasound machine that had been brought in a while ago.

They had gone through all the preliminary questions when they arrived in A&E, then again when they got moved into this room, although Eddie had done most of the talking. (Y/n) only spoke to confirm he was right and ask why she couldn't have morphine yet. If Chimney was here he would have given her something already for the pain.

It didn't hurt as much as it did earlier when pressure was applied to her stomach and (Y/n) took that as a good sign. The ultrasound checked her stomach first to make sure there was no blockage there before going over to her liver just to be safe.

"Stomach and liver are clear, let's go further down."

(Y/n) tilted her head back and looked up at Eddie instead, although he was focused on the ultrasound. She could never work out those black and white images, her eyes weren't trained to spot differences or abnormalities so she never bothered looking.

"Miss (Y/l/n), I'm going to presume you didn't know this, but it seems you're pregnant."

Her eyes wouldn't look away from Eddie, not for a second. Even as her lips twitched from a slacked expression to a tightened grimace from the pain, she continued to look up at Eddie. His eyes narrowed at the corners and his blushing red lips parted but he couldn't find anything to say.

All Eddie could do was tighten his hand in (Y/n)'s and run his fingers through his hair, pulling at the strands until he was about to have a tuft of hair come out between his fingers.

"What?" Eddie couldn't breathe, he could barely speak and he took one small glance down at (Y/n) biting her lip before he looked over at the monitor across from him. How was this possible? How far along were they? Did that mean the pains were something to do with the baby? So many questions rattled around in his mind but he was getting no answers.

"But I… my period, a-and I…" (Y/n) stopped herself before her mind overloaded and started to short circuit.

Sure, her periods were miss-matched and irregular but she'd been having them and she didn't feel any different in herself. She didn't even look pregnant, how far along was she, she couldn't be more than a few weeks, three months at most.

"I'd guess you're around thirty weeks, but with you not knowing or sensing anything and not having the usual symptoms, this seems to be a cryptic pregnancy. Not very common but it does sometimes happen."

"Oh my God," Reaching behind him, Eddie grabbed the flimsy plastic chair and scraped it along until he could sit down, as close to the bed as he could manage until his knees bumped into the bedframe. "Is the baby okay? What's causing the pains?"

"Pre-term labour pains, it could be brought on my stress and induced by you not knowing anything about this. But we can easily give you some medication to ease the contractions and prevent labour. I'll go and get that sorted and give you a moment to talk."

(Y/n) tried to smooth her hand over her stomach but it made her shiver and made a lump form in her throat.

How could she not know? She didn't feel any movement, she had random, short periods that clearly weren't really periods and she had no swelling. A little weight gain maybe, but nothing to suggest a baby. She had been doing extra shifts and helping lift people out of collapsing buildings, hoisting people up onto back boards and climbing the ladder. She had done everything she shouldn't do while pregnant and she didn't even know.

The job could have been the stress that pushed her confused body into thinking now was the best time to go into labour. (Y/n) had thought about kids with Eddie a lot, but this was never the way she wanted to find out or how she would ever want to tell him when the time was right.

Was now the right time for a baby? Whatever the answer, they didn't have the time or the means to change things now.

"We don't have long to do this… we'll be lucky if we get a few weeks to get everything and sort the house out. We have to tell Cap, God and Christopher, he'll be so excited."

Surprise flooded (Y/n)'s face and she sat up a bit straighter when she processed Eddie's sudden ramblings.

He was happy, he was already planning this out in his mind, she could almost see the wheels turning in his mind. He knew what early contractions like this meant, they wouldn't reach full term now. It didn't give them long to tell the team and find a replacement for (Y/n) at work for her to be on maternity leave. They would need to buy everything now and set up the spare room, and tell Christopher that in only a few weeks, someone else would be moving in with them.

When a tired but nevertheless pleasing smile took over Eddie's face along with a few tears, (Y/n) couldn't help but start to cry. This was fast, but she'd always wanted a baby and if Eddie was really okay and thinking this through happily, she didn't have too much to worry about other than work and a short time for planning.

"We're having a baby," (Y/n) whispered quietly, reaching her arms out when Eddie stood up and leaned over her. His arms tangled around her waist and he lifted her up slightly to hold her as close as possible, grinning from ear to ear when he felt (Y/n) kissing his neck.

This was his family.

#eddie diaz #imagine #eddie diaz x reader #eddie diaz imagine #eddie x reader #911 fox #911 imagine #911 #bobby nash #evan buck buckely

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jaegerisim · 1 year

Text

Vent post y'all are gonna hate me for.

I viscerally hate how the Duffers treat most of their non white or queer characters and I hate even more viscerally, how y'all big byler blogs in your circle jerk of other 5 big byler blogs casually like to ignore many red flags the show has.

Y'all like to say: "tHe DufFeRs ArE gReAt WrIteRs" and it's like girl, who are you lying to??? They aren't top shit writers at all. The Duffers are pretty mid imo. Yeah, they run a good show that's fun to watch and theorize abt , but that doesn't mean they're good writers cuz they're not.

1. they completely side lined Will during s3 for the sake of their straight romances: lumax, jancy, mlvn, duzie and partly stobin (even if stobin wasn't endgame, thankfully, Steve's intentions were clearly wanting to date Robin and they gave it a lot of screen time). Will was sidelined bc he didn't fit the straight romance plotline bc they planned to make him gay or whatever. Now in s4 Will and his feelings have been used as mlvn toilet paper. Yes, we like to say this is build up for byler but canonically, Will's feelings have been used to clean the shit mlvn leaves behind.

2. Billy was sympathized a lot during the last 2 seasons. They gave him the sad backstoryTM in order for ppl to feel sorry for him. Billy's backstory is literally Jonathan's but whatever.

3. El's anger issues are constantly girlboss-ified. They down play her bullying situation and literally just use it for El to be a ''girlboss" without realizing how triggering that is. As someone who has lived bullying, seeing it be ignored by canon and fanon is super sad. The whole Rink-O' Mania experience must have been so traumatizing for her yet, everyone absolutely forgets abt it 🤷🏻‍♀️

4. Robin, Erica and Argyle are stereotypical characters. Robin is the quirky lesbian with social anxiety, Erica is the badass black woman and Argyle is the Latino stoner that sells weed to white kids and works as a pizza delivery guy.

5. Altho Argyle and Eddie both do drugs, (Eddie actually sells K-12 to a minor and nobody batted an eye. He has a huge fan base). Eddie is held in a pedestal bc "poor thing 🥺 he lives in a trailer with his uncle 🥺". Tell me a single fact you know abt Argyle that isn't "he smokes weed", "he is Jonathan's only friend", "drives a van" and "he works at a pizzeria". Exactly, Eddie is given a useless backstory and Argyle isn't.

6. Dustin stopped being important to the plot sometime around s2 and s3. He is only there to curse and be mildly funny. My guy needs to hangout with ppl his age cuz he only hangs out with seniors.

7. El needs to stop having so much "I'M THAT BITCH" screentime like I need in s5 for El's arc to not just be her becoming more powerful and falling in love with Mike. I need the Duffers to explore her trauma and problems.

8. Angela should have been run over by the van.

9. Patrick should have been given a backstory that isn't the basic "strict black parents that hit their kids cuz they are a disgrace". Patrick's backstory is actually racist af, fight w the wall.

10. As Lex already said, they didn't trigger tag the ep where Jason and his friends assault Lucas and Erica. Like wtf? Why was that necessary? Why did I have to see a black boy being held at gunpoint by some white guy?? Was it relevant to the plot?? I don't think so. And then I've got to see ppl online be like "Jason wasn't that bad. He was just mourning" like bitch you can stfu. This is what happens when you make the racist assholes conventionally attractive.

Also the fact that Lucas's arc is fulfilled by him fist-fighting Jason and "embracing his weirdness" aka accepting he is black. His arc was not fulfilled at all cuz that ending spoke so loud to me. It showed how little empathy ppl have towards the struggles poc ppl living in the Midwest have. Y'all circle jerks can only see racism when it's super obvious.

Furthermore, parents complained when ST showed "an excessive amount of smoking" yet nobody batted an eye when Billy tried to run over Lucas, when Erica (an 11 y.o ffs) was chased by white kids or when Lucas was held at gunpoint by Jason.

All of this happened while they focused on Max's guilt and mourning that, yeah, are important but certainly not less important than racism!!!

11. In s3, they gave us that whole Nancy vs The Bigots arc that was honestly just triggering and useless. It didn't help Nancy's character at all, quite the opposite it put unnecessary angst.

12. Lonnie being presented as an abuser just for him to never be spoken of again. Can we please get to explore the trauma he left the Byers's with?

13. The fact that both queer relationships are considered "sloppy seconds" is extremely sad. Both Vickie and Mike are rebounding from their failed relationship with Robin and Will. These 2 ships have caused more commotion than Jancy and Jopper together! (These last ships are technically sloppy seconds too but everybody forgets that. Shocker!!)

14. Last but not least, ppl blame Argyle for being the one to get Jonathan into smoking weed as if Jonathan probably wasn't the one looking for it. Let me tell you, that you only find weed if you look for it.

#P.S: I'm gonna pay attention to how many ppl send me hate bc of this or block me #stranger things #lucas sinclair #st vickie #robin buckley #jason stranger things #will byers #dustin henderson #eddie munson #argyle #jonathan byers #erica sinclair #byler #← target audience #byler target audience

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nqueso-emergency · 3 days

Note

it's gonna be long but i'm so tired of this lame shit.

stop doing this "both sides are bad" bullshit. both sides have bad apples but hell should not put bad bucktommys in the same "bad" category as people who is:

1. an owner of a big news acount inciting bully and harrassment to a queer black teenager because they got accused of creating a new news account when it's actually a buddie who made that account, and guess what, never appologized!

2. a person who infiltrate a discord space and getting informations like age and sexuality from people out of that discord to X/twitter and let the cult bullying and calling the discord's people "hags"

3. made a tumblr blog dedicated just for wishing harm and death on a fictional character

4. orchestrated on creating some horrible fanfictions with the wrong tags about a fictional character being a child abuser and child killer, and sent the links of those fanfictions to the fans of said fictional character through inboxes

5. changing a fluff ficlet of a ship created by a fan to a horrible abuse story and sending it to so many fans of the ship through inboxes

6. harassing artists by reuploading art on other social media just for your cult to shit on the art

7. creating a fanart and draw a fictional character as a monster and using the term "lizard people" (but hey they got rewarded!)

8. harassing multishippers for creating fanarts and fanfictions for the newer ship

9. sending phising links and reporting as spam to a positivity project

10. you can check on Lou Ferrigno Jr's latest post on X/Twitter about him swallowing an apple sticker and see how many wishes of harms and deaths you can find on the quotes and the replies

11. throwing tantrums and sending threats to THE showrunner over a scene that didn't included on the final cut (the scene not even significant enough to the whole episode arc:((()

12. recorded an X/Twitter space when the black fans there expressing their disappointment about people (actors included)'s treatment toward a certain actor with racism history during blm, putting the recording out so the cult could harrass the fans who's talking in the said space

there are bad apples on bucktommys side. even sometimes i think maybe i am one of the bad apples. but i love how bucktommys never holding back for calling out someone's bad behavior even it's from their own side. so i'm always grateful that i'm on bucktommys side. oh, for all of those points of bad behavior above, we have receipts, bcs we would never speak without receipts.

P. S. certain group of shipper could made a team to investigate who nqueso-emergency actually is but not one of them move to investigate who are these people orchestrating csa fics and made their community look bad? shocker!!!

P. S. S. points of bad behaviors above is mostly about their treatment toward other fans and real life person. i'm not getting deep into their treatment toward fictional characters on the show, especially their treatment toward a certain gay character because when we tried to call them out, they just twist it to "hAtinG on a rAciSt aNd mYsOgIniSt chArActEr iS hoMOpHoBic noW?". well, honey, that character is already change to a better person now and he stated that he's not a good person back then. you know who's homophobic, now? yes! YOU ARE!

thank you for your your service, nqueso, have a great day. and i love you, bucktommys! we'll get through this🫶🏽

#im in love #anonymous #911 abc #nquesu wanna block #911 discourse #911 show

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swarvey · 3 months

Text

paper rings | harvey x f!reader

summary -> you make a confession; harvey silently suffers in his thoughts. warnings -> panic attack + self deprecating thoughts wc -> 3159 tags -> @newtonfinnigan @minnieplier-blog @auroraa-o

a/n: sorry for the drag on this chapter everyone! mainly was struggling to find a song that matched my thoughts, but you're losing me became the clear answer.

to those who hoped harvey wouldn't mess things up, i hate to break this to you … but it had to be done </3 the angst begins.

what are your thoughts?? <33

ch. 8 | ch. 9 | ch. 10

paper rings masterlist

chapter nine: you're losing me -> "lose something, babe, risk something."

The first thing you noticed when your eyes opened was how your alarm wasn’t ringing, which immediately started your morning off on the wrong foot. The silence meant you had either forgotten to reset your alarm or you’d slept through it, both of which resulted in the same outcome — a late start to your day, which, inevitably, would lead to a late end. Annoying, sure, but it wasn’t like you hadn’t done it before.

The second thing you noticed was the bed, because, well, it wasn’t yours.

This was new.

Your head was propped onto a pillow you didn’t recognize, though it still supported your neck just the way you liked. The blankets were nothing like the ones you brought from the city. They were a bit thinner, but much softer, and they smelled nothing like your laundry. They smelled—

Holy shit.

They smelled like Harvey, a mixture of the stupidly good cologne you told him to buy all those years ago and the laundry detergent he’d been using since college.

Suddenly, memories of the night before rushed your head — images of your lips crashing into his, your legs wrapped around his waist, his eyes screwed shut as his mouth fell open with pleasure — and you became painfully aware of the familiar shape already standing in the kitchen. The scent of freshly brewed coffee seemed to jumpstart your brain.

There’s no way I hooked up with Harvey. This has to be a dream, right?

You pinched your arm as subtly as you could, biting down on your lip to cover up your wince. Nothing.

What could you even say to him? Surely, he would regret his decisions. You recalled how you stumbled upon him and Maru in the maze, how he protected her so easily at the thought of danger. It was clear he liked her. You’d heard rumors around town about how he had a massive crush on her when he first moved in.

But then you thought of the look he gave you when Blueberry appeared; how, for a split second, you swore he seemed lovestruck. Enough to render you speechless, at the very least. You knew it was a childish thought, that it was probably the lighting messing with your head. Nonetheless, how could you resist his offer for a drink? It wasn’t an uncommon thing to do between friends. Plus, it was known the two of you were more than acquaintances — you grew up together, and you would go as far to say Harvey was your platonic other half.

Though, you had a feeling it wasn’t as common to end the night naked and under the same covers with said platonic friend.

Slowly, you sat up and swung your legs over your side of the bed, shivering at the loss of warmth. You found most of your clothing easily, slipping everything on quickly as you searched for your missing top.

“Ah, are you . . . looking for your shirt?”

You froze, turning to see Harvey standing behind you with two mugs in his hand. “Yeah,” you replied softly. His knuckles were white from how tightly he was grasping the handles. “Have you seen it?”

“It’s in the wash. I must’ve spilled some wine on you last night.” His voice was unnaturally delicate, as if he was scared of breaking you with his tone. “Y/N, listen, I think we should talk—”

“Can I borrow one of yours?” you blurted out, not wanting him to finish his sentence. “Until mine is clean, you know, I should go check on the farm as soon as I can. I’m already late.”

“Right,” he sounded slowly, setting the coffees in his hands down on the countertop. He looked at you with a gaze full of shame and sadness. “I take it you’re upset, then.”

“Upset?” You couldn’t help the nervous laughter that left your mouth, crossing your arms after realizing you were still only in your bra. “Why would I be upset? I mean, you didn’t mean for any of that to happen last night, did you?”

“Wh-What?”

Desperately trying to distract yourself, you made your way over to his closet, grabbing the first button-up you saw and throwing it over yourself. “It’s okay, Harvs,” you said, even though it really, really wasn’t. “I’ll spare you the apology, okay? It was my fault, I shouldn’t have pushed you. It was my mistake.” You paused, your heart pounding in your chest as you contemplated your next words. “You should know, though, um . . . I don’t actually see it that way. As a mistake, I mean. I wanted it. I’ve been wanting this,” you added, face flaming with embarrassment from your confession. “I like you, Harvey, a lot. I hope you can see past this, for our sake. I don’t want to lose you.”

Silence.

Fuck. Why did I say that? Harvey, for once in your life, say something.

You searched Harvey’s face for an answer. You typically prided yourself in being able to read him like a book, but for once, you couldn’t tell what he was thinking. His wide eyes stared at you in shock, his mouth just barely parted as if he wanted to say something, but couldn’t bring himself to.

You took that as enough of an answer.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, walking past him to find your shoes. “I’ll . . . I’ll go.”

You left with tears stinging your eyes, Harvey’s horrified expression burned into your head.

Harvey was a wreck.

Or, as Shane would say, a complete shitshow.

As soon as the door closed behind him, he realized what he had done, spinning around on his heel to catch up to you.

He stopped with his hand on top of the knob.

Would you even want to see him? Why would you, after he left you hanging like that? Hell, he hated himself for what he did, he couldn’t imagine how you felt.

No, he couldn’t bring himself to chase after you, he was too ashamed. Instead, he watched as hot tears fell down his face and onto the tile beneath him, a quiet panic taking over his body as his mind scrambled for an answer. Was that it? Did he just ruin a friendship he treasured more than anything, all because his stupid tongue couldn’t spit out the words he wanted? Would you ever speak to him again?

Before he could register what was going on, Harvey was curling up on the kitchen floor, his face buried in arms as he tried to calm his breathing. It reminded him of how you used to calm his panic attacks as a kid, usually when his parents would first leave him at Pelican Town.

“It’s okay, Harvey,” you said, giving him a tight hug. “They’ll be back soon.”

But would you?

His breaths were shaky and suddenly he was freezing, wrapping his arms around himself as he desperately tried to ground himself. Harvey hated panicking; he hated how powerless and weak it made him feel. It made all his insecurities come to fruition, bringing to life the countless insults he’d been hearing his entire life.

You can’t do anything on your own, can you?

You’re just a loser who can’t stand up for himself.

You’re pathetic.

You’re going to end up alone.

Alone.

God, he felt lonely.

Then again, what’s new?

It took the town about two days to notice Harvey’s absence. When he heard someone knocking on his door, he expected to see his usual two friends, as he knew they’d been wondering about his strange behavior.

1 Unread Message from: Shane

Shane : u good, dude?

4 Unread Messages from: Elliott

Elliott : Are you alright?

Elliott : We haven’t seen you since Spirit’s Eve. Everyone’s wondering where you are.

Elliott : Did something happen with Y/N?

Elliott : Please call me, you’re worrying me a bit.

If the scenario had been any different, Harvey would’ve been a bit heart-warmed to see his friend’s concern. It was a testament to everything they’d been through, and the thought of them showing up at his doorstep was at least a bit comforting.

Upon opening the door, though, he was met with a letterman jacket and a deep scowl.

Harvey realized he hadn’t showered or changed and was still sporting his pajamas.

“I don’t know what the hell you said to her, man, but you fucked up,” Alex snapped, eyes narrowed into slits. “Haley was gonna come and tell you off, but I told Leah to hold her back. You’re welcome for that.”

“Thanks,” Harvey responded quietly, his voice weak and a bit scratchy from crying. “Can I help you?”

“You sure can,” the younger man shot back. “Talk to Y/N. She deserves better than this, asshole. Aren’t you supposed to be her best friend or something?” With that, he turned and quickly made his way down the stairs without looking back. Harvey sighed as he closed the door before heading back to bed. As much as it pained him to admit it, Alex was right.

Thankfully, there weren’t any appointments to attend to, so he told Maru he wasn’t feeling too well and stayed in his apartment. He felt awful for lying, especially given his circumstances, but in that moment, he saw no other choice. He couldn’t stand the thought of everyone seeing him with bloodshot eyes that couldn’t seem to stop swelling with tears, your words echoing in his ears like some sick joke.

I wanted it. I’ve been wanting this.

Harvey had never been a superstitious man, but he was sure this was karma.

I like you, Harvey, a lot.

How? Those were the last words he expected to leave your mouth when you got out of bed — he expected the nerves and was honestly surprised you weren’t more jittery. Part of him thought you would be angry at him, that you’d yell and call him an idiot; another part was prepared for panicked crying. A confession, though? He hadn’t been prepared for that, not at all, especially not after the past three seasons where Alex seemed to be smitten over you. Was it one-sided, then? Or had he read into that wrong as well? How much did the jock know that he didn’t?

Questions consumed Harvey as he miserably sat on the edge of his bed, staring at the wall with an empty feeling in his chest. He longed to see you again, and guilt was practically tearing him apart — he kept thinking back to how you’d looked at him before he left, so hurt and insecure and there was no one to blame but him. He’d done that, after swearing to take care of you all those years ago on your grandfather’s farm.

Fuck it.

Ignoring his unkept hair and the dark bags under his eyes, Harvey changed and threw on his coat before rushing out of his house, flying down the steps and into the clinic. He didn’t reply to Maru as she confusedly called his name; he didn’t give a second glance to Pierre or Caroline or whoever the hell else eyed him on the way to your farm; he didn’t even notice your loyal pet staring him down as he walked up the steps to the porch.

Why would he? There was only one person he needed to see.

With a deep breath and a heavy heart, Harvey knocked on your door, praying he could at least somewhat fix the mess he’d made.

Out of anyone on the planet, it was common knowledge you knew Harvey the best. You’d known green was his favorite color since the second day you talked to him, and you would always visit his favorite restaurant in Zuzu City whenever you thought of him, long after he moved away. You even made sure you were always the first one to text him “Happy Birthday” every year, no matter where the two of you were or what you were doing.

After everything you collected on Harvey over the years, though, nothing explained the words spilling out of Leah’s mouth as she explained to you what Elliott had told her.

“So, he’s been making it up?” you questioned quietly, unable to mask the hurt in your voice. “All because he’s actually liked me this entire time?”

“That’s what I gathered,” Leah replied, face grim. “I don’t know, Y/N, it sounded a bit complicated, and Elliott felt really bad for letting it get that far—”

“It’s fine.” Yeah, right. “Thanks for stopping by, Leah, I really appreciate it.”

“Of course. Please call me if you need anything.”

You didn’t move from your position at your dining table until the sun completely set. You’d been keeping more to yourself the last day or two to try and clear your head, especially after you left Harvey’s place so abruptly that morning. Initially, you convinced yourself you overreacted and that you hadn’t even given him a chance to think before he spoke. After all, it wasn’t like your confession to him was like every other one, unless going around and falling in love with their best friends was the new norm.

When Leah showed up in front of your door and explained to you the reality of the situation, though, you realized it was even deeper than you thought.

You’d never felt more conflicted in your life. Of course, half of you was happy to hear Harvey felt the same — apparently he’d felt that way for a while now, which was a whole other story — but the other half couldn’t believed he’d been lying to you the entire time. You honestly didn’t think he was capable of such an act. You were sure if you told this to college Harvey, he would faint on the spot. You knew you couldn’t fully blame him, seeing the stuff you pulled with Alex, but you had also made it clear on numerous occasions that you did not see him that way. You used to think he was super into Haley, anyway, but ever since she and Leah got together, you swore you noticed him beginning to question some parts of himself, too.

But that was beside the point. What mattered was Harvey lied to you for the first time in your life, and you couldn’t wrap your head around it.

Thankfully, you didn’t have to keep pondering alone.

Three gentle knocks echoed throughout your house, followed by a voice you didn’t realize you were beginning to miss.

“Y/N? Are you home?”

You rose from your chair and walked over to the front door, closing your eyes for a moment to gather yourself before swinging it open.

Dear Yoba, he looks like shit.

Harvey stood in front of you with his jacket sitting unevenly on his shoulders without a tie, looking more out of it than you’d ever seen him. Despite being a doctor, he was never very good at taking care of himself when things went downhill.

You probably didn’t look much better, anyway.

“Y/N,” he sighed, as if he couldn’t believe you were real. “Can we talk?”

You looked at him silently for a few moments, memories flashing through your head like a photo album before landing on the look he gave you as you left his apartment.

“Leah told me,” you blurted, the same conflicting feeling rising in your chest. “Elliott spilled. She stopped by earlier and told me everything.”

He froze.

“So, you know? About Maru?” he asked, sounding numb. “How I made it up?”

“Yeah, and . . . how you feel about me.”

He paled, looking like he’d just seen a ghost.

“I see.” He looked away for a moment before taking a small step forward, eyes filled with desperation as they met yours. “Please, let me explain—”

“Why didn’t you just tell me?” you asked, crossing your arms. You ignored how cold the air was without a jacket. “Seriously, Harvs, I know you’re not stupid, and we tell each other everything.”

He shook his head as he pursed his lips in thought. “This was . . . different. Let’s go inside and talk.”

You didn’t move from your spot in the doorway. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea,” you softly replied. You felt a stab of guilt at the hurt in his eyes, but made yourself question him further. You needed to hear him, to have him prove you wrong. “Tell me. What made you hold back? I mean, how long have you even been feeling this way about me?”

His mouth opened, and then shut, his gaze moving to the ground. His hands were in his pockets, but you would bet all your gold that they were clenched tightly into fists.

You scoffed at his lack of an answer, a rising anger feeding your words. “Well? Say something, Harvey, now is not the time to have words stuck on your tongue,” you demanded, your voice beginning to waver with emotion. “The truth’s out, okay? There’s nothing to hide anymore, so you might as well be honest with me.”

“I—” He stopped himself, taking in a shaky breath. “I’ve been in love with you for as long as I can remember.” There was a hint of relief in his words as his shoulders fell.

Your eyes unexpectedly filled with tears at his words, and you silently begged them not to fall. “And those words you said in the saloon that night, they were about me?” You recalled the dreamy look in his eyes as he’d listed off all the traits he was enamored with about the girl he loved.

“Yes.” His voice was just barely above a whisper, and he still wouldn’t look at you. “Everything’s been about you.”

“Why didn’t you say that, then?” You shook your head. “You know what, forget about that. What about now? I told you I felt the same, didn’t I? Do something about it.”

“I can’t.”

You were in shock. “I don’t understand you,” you said, trying your best logic out his words. “I’m right here, literally right in front of you, saying I love you back. Is that not enough?”

“It is,” he replied quickly, starting to reach a hand out to you before stopping. Finally, Harvey met your eyes, and he looked as if he was restraining himself, like he had a speech written to you in his head that he couldn’t bring himself to say out loud. “It’s more than enough, I promise. You have no idea how badly I’ve wanted this, wanted you .”

“Then say it to my face!” The breeze sent chills down your body as you saw a tear fall down Harvey’s face. “Tell me it was worth it. Tell me you’ve been waiting for this moment, and that it all got fucked up but we’ll be okay.”

Silence.

“I’m sorry,” he said after a moment, giving you one last, sad look before walking away. You could only watch helplessly as he left your farm, leaving you standing on the porch alone with the frigid air and a broken heart.

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