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#Unless I'm doing something wrong in the settings
screwpinecaprice · 2 years
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Distracting myself by drawing someone being distracted.
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I'm being so normal about my code and definitely didn't just almost cry (positive) upon confirming that I successfully linked my JS file in my HTML file with a relative path and it runs exactly as expected
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scare-ard--sleigh · 5 months
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okay like I had to make Tweaks to a tech article i submitted, which included writing up a meta title (of which i just grabbed the first half of the actual title) a meta description (the description you see on google that no one actually looks at) and bumping down the Grammarly 'plagiarism' score from 3% down to 2% (changing the wording around in 2 sentences) and i'm just like . why do we even have editors lmao like what are we paying those people for .
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yangjeongin · 1 year
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melon-dot-com · 1 month
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bonking my head against desk.mp4
I wasted time on something unimportant and that I didn't even care about again!!!!! I'm gonna Lose It!!!!
#neocells#AAAAA#It's so embarrassing like how did I even fixate on something like that!!!!#I mean it was an ''organize something'' ''put something together'' and ''match things''#so of course I did#but the thing itself was not even worth it#esp not at night#esp not when it's a bad dress up feature#esp not when it somehow took up to two hours#it was so unexpected too like it was rlly supposed to be just throw something together. it was BITMOJI. on SNAPCHAT#THIS ROUTE HAPPENED BECAUSE I REMOVED BITMOJI AND PUT IT BACK. BECAUSE IT DOESN'T LET U HAVE A NORMAL PFP#I feel insane dude#I am in disbelief#like surely I read the timestamps wrong from when I last messaged the person I was talking to. surely#I thought it was 30 min to an hour at best#really ignored said person and my cat (in my attempt to Escape and finish because I could tell I was losing time awareness)#because I get paranoid if I pause and go back I'll get caught up in it again and waste even more time!! yet in turn#that makes me waste more time anyways!!!!#now my cat is taking a nap nearby.#I was going to give her attention and she gave up!! because I pushed her away in my desperate attempt to get the dress up thing over with!!#not to mention I was tense the whole time- I thought I was ''about to get up'' and not uhhh sitting here for an hour plus#I know at least... 5-10 minutes was just messing with the filters since I hadn't been on snapchat in ages so I was curious#maybe another 10 trying to figure out if the pfp can be a normal one. though there is a separate profile where u can? for some reason?#so I was being indecisive abt the pfp and background for that#even though idk if that matters either like who even sees that. how does that work#and that still leaves all the rest of that time wasted#unless the profile setting stuff was more than I thought too..... who knows at this point#could've wrote all that in the post but was already doing it here. I'm not abt to attempt to put it in the post instead
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prokopetz · 6 months
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On the one hand, it's true that the way Dungeons & Dragons defines terms like "sorcerer" and "warlock" and "wizard" is really only relevant to Dungeons & Dragons and its associated media – indeed, how these terms are used isn't even consistent between editions of D&D! – and trying to apply them in other contexts is rarely productive.
On the other hand, it's not true that these sorts of fine-grained taxonomies of types of magic are strictly a D&D-ism and never occur elsewhere. That folks make this argument is typically a symptom of being unfamiliar with Dungeons & Dragons' source material. D&D's main inspirations are American literary sword and sorcery fantasy spanning roughly the 1930s through the early 1980s, and fine-grained taxonomies of magic users absolutely do appear in these sources; they just aren't anything like as consistent as the folks who try to cram everything into the sorcerer/warlock/wizard model would prefer.
For example, in Lyndon Hardy's "Five Magics" series, the five types of magical practitioners are:
Alchemists: Drawing forth the hidden virtues of common materials to craft magic potions; limited by the fact that the outcomes of their formulas are partially random.
Magicians: Crafting enchanted items through complex manufacturing procedures; limited by the fact that each step in the procedure must be performed perfectly with no margin for error.
Sorcerers: Speaking verbal formulas to basically hack other people's minds, permitting illusion-craft and mind control; limited by the fact that the exercise of their art eventually kills them.
Thaumaturges: Shaping matter by manipulating miniature models; limited by the need to draw on outside sources like fires or flywheels to make up the resulting kinetic energy deficit.
Wizards: Summoning and binding demons from other dimensions; limited by the fact that the binding ritual exposes them to mental domination by the summoned demon if their will is weak.
"Warlock", meanwhile, isn't a type of practitioner, but does appear as pejorative term for a wizard who's lost a contest of wills with one of their own summoned demons.
Conversely, Lawrence Watt-Evans' "Legends of Ethshar" series includes such types of magic-users as:
Sorcerers: Channelling power through metal talismans to produce fixed effects; in the time of the novels, talisman-craft is largely a lost art, and most sorcerers use found or inherited talismans.
Theurges: Summoning gods; the setting's gods have no interest in human worship, but are bound not to interfere in the mortal world unless summoned, and are thus amenable to cutting deals.
Warlocks: Wielding X-Men style psychokinesis by virtue of their attunement to the telepathic whispers emanating from the wreckage of a crashed alien starship. (They're the edgy ones!)
Witches: Producing improvisational effects mostly related to healing, telepathy, precognition, and minor telekinesis by drawing on their own internal energy.
Wizards: Drawing down the infinite power of Chaos and shaping it with complex rituals. Basically D&D wizards, albeit with a much greater propensity for exploding.
You'll note that both taxonomies include something called a "sorcerer", something called a "warlock", and something called a "wizard", but what those terms mean in their respective contexts agrees neither with the Dungeons & Dragons definitions, nor with each other.
(Admittedly, these examples are from the 1980s, and are thus not free of D&D's influence; I picked them because they both happened to use all three of the terms in question in ways that are at odds with how D&D uses them. You can find similar taxonomies of magic use in earlier works, but I would have had to use many more examples to offer multiple competing definitions of each of "sorcerer", "warlock" and "wizard", and this post is already long enough!)
So basically what I'm saying is giving people a hard time about using these terms "wrong" – particularly if your objection is that they're not using them in a way that's congruent with however D&D's flavour of the week uses them – makes you a dick, but simply having this sort of taxonomy has a rich history within the genre. Wizard phylogeny is a time-honoured tradition!
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ddejavvu · 1 year
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Wait Omg the thought of bau!reader and Aaron being secretly married but reader forgetting to take their ring off?? (Opposite to Spencer’s LOL). Everyone instantly zeroes in on it like ?????
You're not sure why you're on the receiving end of Prentiss's cheshire cat grin, but she's somewhat of an office prankster, so you assume that when you open the top drawer of your desk, a rubber band will fly out and whack you in the forehead. When no such thing happens, and JJ greets you with her own wide-eyed smile, you know something's wrong.
You retrieve the handheld mirror that you keep stashed away in your purse, trying to appear nonchalant as you glance over your face for any possible makeup smears. There's no smudges of eyeliner down your cheeks, mascara isn't dotted on your eyelid, and your lipstick is perfectly lined around your mouth; nothing is wrong.
You reach up to flick a wayward strand of hair away from your eyes, nothing big enough to attract the stares you're getting, but undesirable nonetheless. When you do you catch the glint of your wedding ring in the fluorescent lights of the bullpen, and your stomach drops.
That's not supposed to be there.
You snap the mirror closed and slide the ring off of your hand but it's too late, and both girls are snickering at your piss-poor attempt at concealment.
"Sooo," JJ hums, leaning over her desk with her chin propped on her hand, "When were you gonna tell us about that?"
"It's just a ring," You scoff, shoving it into the depths of your purse. You'll regret that later, when you're digging through napkins and lotion to find it, but for now evasion is key.
"Please," Emily scoffs, "That rock looks like it could pay my rent five times over. Are you seriously married?"
"No!" You gush, and you're sure they regret phrasing it as a question, because it gave you the opportunity to lie in answer, "No, I am not married, it's just a regular ring."
"Yeah, that's why you hid it from us," JJ drawls, "Morgan, did you know about this?"
"What?" The man's head pops up from his desk, "What do I know?"
"JJ, please-" You beg, but Prentiss is the one who answers, "Y/N's hitched!"
Derek's brows shoot comically high on his face, "Married-hitched?"
"No! I just wear rings sometimes," You insist, "Guys, I'm not married, this is ridiculous!"
"No one wears a ring that big unless it comes from a man who's equally endowed," Prentiss winks, that devilish grin on her face ever-present, "Come on, don't make Penelope deep dive, who's the lucky man?"
"What am I deep-diving for?" Garcia peers around the corner of the kitchenette, and you shoot Rossi a pleading look where he stands behind her. He'd been on his way back to his office, but apparently your drama has piqued his interest.
"She's married." Derek jerks a thumb at you, and it actually drops Garcia's jaw; you've always delighted in how cartoonish her reactions could be. Now, though, it provides enough silence for Rossi to speak, setting one of his hands on Penelope's shoulders.
"Don't waste your talents, Penelope. You don't need a deep dive to figure it out."
"Dave," You start, your voice sharp, but JJ cuts you off.
"Come on, you told Rossi before you told us?"
"She didn't tell me," Dave shakes his head, amusement glimmering in his eyes. You know he's absolutely ecstatic to be the one to let the cat out of the bag, and you resign yourself to slumping back in your chair as he changes the BAU forever more with two meager words: "Hotch did."
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leeknow-thoughts · 2 months
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୨୧ YOUNG AND INNOCENT
𝝑𝝔 cw : virgin reader, daddy!minho, p in v, mentions of oral, shower sex, overall pretty vanilla!
𝝑𝝔 a/n : miss mocha @yongbun wanted me to @ her !! And also holy shat guys i'm at 900 followers??? that's so insane to me!! I love you all so much :3
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It was no secret, you were Lee Know's favorite member. He was never crude to you, mostly because you were one of the only members who never annoyed him.
And you were sweet, the second youngest member in the group who without fail remembered every birthday and anniversary and planned accordingly.
And you were innocent, the fact drove him crazy.
It drove him crazy how you sang Red Lights on stage and you would get embarrassed over it, how you would walk around the dorms in the flimsiest pair of sleep shorts and camisole ever made, how you would blush and get all embarrassed when fans would call you hot or sexy.
It drove him up the walls insane, your innocence. He was patient, for the most part, unless it came to you. He was protective, especially when it came to you.
You always assumed boys never asked you out because of your looks, but little did you know it was really because Lee Know would stare down any man with romantic or sexual intentions who came within a five meter radius of you.
After years of living with men, you had become quite accustomed to seeing male anatomy. Whether it was because the leader of your group was comfortable walking around shirtless, or because you had accidentally walked in on someone in the shower a few times, you became pretty desensitized to seeing naked men.
At first it would embarrass you, but after a while it just became part of life. But these men were your friends and coworkers, so when you would see them without their shirt on honestly it just started to feel like seeing your friends in a bathing suit.
And although you had gotten used to seeing male anatomy, your group mates would gawk and stare every time you showed even the slightest bit of skin. "What are you wearing?" Seungmin gawks when he sees you in your regular pajama shorts and cropped tank top, cuddled up on the couch, watching a movie.
"Pajamas?" you retort, not knowing why exactly it would cause him to freak out.
"God, y/n," Seungmin gaffs, "you need to get laid."
You can't help the blush that creeps up onto your face, "w-what?"
"You heard me!" Seungmin persists, "listen, I'm not trying to be rude but you're the only member of the team who is still a virgin."
"So?" you cross your arms, "why is that such a bad thing? And what does this have to do with my pajamas!"
"Because you're twenty-something-years-old and you've never had your first kiss," he explains, "listen, we need to find you a boyfriend or something, only your boyfriend should see you in those kinds of pajamas, half your ass is practically hanging out!"
"I d-don't need a boyfriend," you huff, turning away from him, refocusing on the television.
"Then what is stopping you from y'know getting some?" Seungmin poses.
"W-well g-guys aren't really that y'know, into me?"
"Oh bullshit, I could set you up with someone, one of my friends," Seungmin proposes, "only if you want to."
"I-I mean y-yeah that's fine," you can't help but stutter.
"Good, I'll give him your phone number," Seungmin promises.
You couldn't help but get excited with the idea of going out with a boy. A thought that terrified you as much as it exhilarated you. "Pixie?" you call out to the boy who is currently playing League of Legends on his PC, the glow of his pink and purple LED lights illuminating his features as his fingers rapidly click against the keyboard.
"Hm," his head shoots up, looking to where you stood in his doorway, "hey, what's up?"
"I need to talk to you, and I hoped it would stay between us?"
"O-oh okay, yeah come in, shut the door," he says, he watches you flop down on his bed after shutting his door, "so what's wrong?"
"Okay well Seungmin is setting me up with one of his friends and I d'know - I'm just really awkward, I don't know how to talk to guys, like at all, and I d'know what to do," you confess to the blonde freckled boy who is swivelling around in his gaming chair that you bought him for Christmas, his right leg bouncing up and down.
"You're good at talking to me, how different can another guy be?"
"Pixie, you know it's different," you huff, sitting up, "please, I just need your help."
"Maybe you should go to Chan, or maybe Minho, I think they could help you more," Felix tells you, "but I think you should just y'know, be yourself, you're pretty and you've got a good personality and any guy worth anything is gonna see that."
"But w-what ab-about s-" you pause, hiding your face in your hands,"sex."
"What about it?"
"Well I haven't y'know?"
"Trust me, that much is obvious," Felix teases, "but really, most guys don't care much about virginity, some guys even find it hot when girls are still virgins, they get off on the fact that they're a girl's first," he informs you, you're hands moving away from your face, staring at him, "I know you may think that's weird, but it's the truth."
"But I don't know what to do."
"That's fine, some guys also find that hot, like with blowjobs you just need to make sure you take it slow at first, get used to it, then after that speed up, and don't be afraid to take deep breaths and breaks. And as far as sex goes the guy is mostly the one doing the work, you just lay back and relax," Felix explains, "unless you're riding him, but I wouldn't recommend doing that during your first time. Sex isn't that scary y/n, just think of it as two people just wanting to help the other feel good."
"T-thank you Lix," you smile at the boy, "t-that helped me feel a bit better."
"Anytime," he smiles that pretty smile of his, "oh, later do you want to get dinner with Jeongin and me?"
"Oh, no thanks, Minho is making me dinner tonight," you smile, you stand up from his bed and walk to the door, "thank you Lix, I owe you."
"Don't mention it," Lix smiles, refocusing on his monitor.
You were going to lose your virginity, you were dead set on it. And that was truly terrifying, but you tried to ignore that feeling of fear that pooled in your abdomen. It was just sex. At least that's what Felix said.
"Hi hi," Minho greets you when you walk into the kitchen, he was standing over a pot of water on the stove waiting for it to boil.
"Hi Min," you hum, taking a seat on the couch, "so what are you making? Do you need any help?"
"We have the rule to not let you in the kitchen for a reason, but thank you for the thought, I'm making your favorite," he says it like it isn't a truly heart warming gesture.
"Thank you Minho," you thank him.
"Mhm," he simply hums, refocusing on the stove, "so what was your day like? Do anything interesting?"
The words leave your mouth before you can even register what you're saying, "virginity."
This makes Minho's face turn to look at you, his eyebrows knit together with a look of utter confusion, "virginity?" he questions.
You hide your face in your hands, a rosy blush on your face, "y-yeah," you squeak, "I-I'm going to lose my virginity," you confess.
"Like today?"
"W-well no, but someday soon," you inform him, "I-I'm going to lose my virginity."
That was not okay for Minho, not at all, but you couldn't know that, you sounded scared enough. And that was when Minho got the best worst idea he has ever had. You could lose your virginity to him.
"Who is going to take your virginity?" he asks.
"Well I haven't exactly worked t-that part out yet," you confide, "but to someone, someone soon."
"It should be someone you trust," Minho advises you, "it shouldn't just be a random hookup, maybe it should be a friend, someone you already know, in a no strings attached kind of way."
"Maybe you're right," you ponder for a moment before shooting your head up, "do you think Felix would have sex with me?"
Minho can't help but choke on pure air, doubling over, "e-excuse me?"
"Minho! I'm being serious!" you whine, "Felix is my best friend an-and I trust him!"
Minho eventually regains his composure, "you shouldn't fuck your best friend, that always ends up messy."
"You're right," you agree, another idea coming to your mind, "I should ask Chan if he'll have sex with me."
"That's also a terrible idea, did you forget that he's already seeing someone?"
"Oh, yeah, I forgot, fuck," you groan, "what should I do, because if I don't lose it to someone else, I'll end up losing it to one of Kim Seungmin's friends."
"You could just fuck me," Minho proposes.
You can't help the way your jaw practically hits the fucking floor, "wh-what? You'd do that- w-well technically me?"
"I mean yeah, you're my friend, and I just want what's best for you," he reassures you of his intentions, "I'll teach you everything you want to know."
"Oh, well when c-can we?" you watch as he adds the noodles to the boiling water, "you know-"
"How about tonight? If you want to, I'm in no rush, you can choose when and where," he cuts you off.
"Tonight," you affirm, "tonight."
"Okay, tonight," Minho agrees, "you decide what we're doing."
"I want you to decide," you confess, "I just want this to be nice and y'know intimate?"
"Okay," Minho hums, moving to strain the water after the noodles had boiled for their needed time.
Minho eats with you, and cleans up the mess afterwards, you were on edge the whole time, not knowing what to do or what to expect. Practically vibrating with nerves and excitement all mixed into one.
"Y/n," Minho calls out to you.
You practically jump out of your chair, looking up at the man, "listen, you need to relax, let's take a shower," he proposes.
"O-okay," you agree.
You follow him into you and his shared bathroom, Felix, Jeongin, and Seungmin having their own bathroom. Minho was the first one to completely strip and that's when you saw it. His cock. That big thing was supposed to fit in you, there was no fucking way.
"Minho th-y-your cock," you gawk, if it looked this big and this intimidating like this you could only imagine what it looked like when he was actually hard.
"Don't worry," he grins, "I'll get you nice and prepped before I put it in."
His cock was nothing to joke about, big and fat with a slight curve, so meaty and girthy it was intimidating just to look at and he wasn't even hard yet.
Minho watches as you strip your clothes off, and you search his face for a reaction to your nudeness, you get one, "no wonder you have so many fanboys and fangirls," Minho grins.
He's offering you a hand, which you take, now standing under the water of the shower with him, becoming soaked from head to toe. He is quick to sink to his knees and start lapping at your cunt until you're painting his face with your cum before he's holding you still, making you give him another orgasm.
It hurts when he puts it in, you're whining and whimpering and falling apart, feeling like you're being ripped open by his fat length. He's gentle with you though, holding you delicately, kissing the back of your neck, stilling inside you and letting you adjust to his length.
"Jagi, that's only the tip," he hums, rubbing soft circles on your hips, "tell me when I can move, jagi."
It takes a few minutes before you're comfortable with him moving even more, but eventually you give him the go ahead. You're having to bite down on your tongue so you don't scream, "there you go, kitty cat, bigggg stretch," Minho coos, his hips stilling, "there now you're halfway done."
Your legs feel so wobbly like they could give out as Minho takes your virginity in the shower, "Min-daddy please move!" you gulp.
"Oh, I'm going to ruin you," Minho groans, pushing his cock in until his fat mushroom tip is pressed against your cervix, "gonna stretch you out all good and nice, no other cock is gonna fill you up quite right."
"Daddy!" you're practically screaming when he starts moving.
He's slow and delicate with you, taking his time, savoring every stroke in your tight virgin cunt. It hurt, it hurt so fucking good. You felt the ripples of pleasure shooting down your spine, the sound of skin slapping on skin being all that resonated around the shower room. "Oh my fucking God!" you yelp when his cock presses against that spongy spot inside you over and over and over again.
His cock has you seeing stars, and you're thoroughly convinced this is the best you've ever felt. No wonder people always talked about sex when it felt like this.
With every thrust of his hips he's bringing you closer and closer making you feel hotter and hotter. Your body is writhing around, he keeps a firm grasp on you, holding you still for him. "Atta girl," he hums, "you're taking my cock so well, jagi, like your little cunt was made for it."
"Daddy!" you're basically wailing, tears of pleasure streaming down your face, it just feels oh so good, you never want it to end.
When his hand wraps around your body to rub rub rub your clit you're doubling over, pleasure racking your body.
And that's when the band building up in your stomach finally snaps. Glancing down to watch the stream of clear liquid drip out of your pussy onto the tile of the shower. "Daddy!" you whimper over and over as he fucks you through your orgasm.
"That's it, jagi," Minho groans his cock slipping out of you before you feel hot ropes of his cum painting your ass followed by Minho's groans.
"Minho-" you whine.
"Oh, jagi," Minho is mumbling before he's turning you around and pulling you close to him, "I think I'll have to keep you, your cunt is just too sweet," he plants a kiss on your hairline as water from the shower hits your back.
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rambling-at-midnight · 2 months
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Pros and Cons of Midnight Snacks
Pairing: Jason Todd x Civilian!Reader. No pronouns so can be read as any gender!
Summary: Meet-ugly with the Red Hood due to a gas station robbery gone wrong.
Word count: ~2k
(I'm branching out to other fandoms, apparently. Let me know if you want a sequel. Enjoy!)
You weren't born in Gotham, so it sometimes still surprises you that you had adjusted so well to its particular brand of crazy.
You're from somewhere a little more south of New Jersey, although most places in the U.S. are a little south of Jersey unless you're a lobster farmer from Maine or a tree hugger from Vermont.
Both of those descriptions sound critical, but they weren't meant to be. Right about now you're seriously considering taking up lobster farming.
No one sane ever moves to Gotham. Everyone knows the stories, and even if most of the country didn't believe all of them, most people aren't stupid enough to disregard them. And you certainly weren't stupid. But rent was dirt cheap for a city, and so was tuition for GU's vet school. So you thought to yourself, "How bad could it really be," bought pepper spray and a taser, and accepted the admissions offer.
You'd always liked iced coffee more than green bean casserole and peach cobbler, anyway.
Reading news articles hadn't been enough to prepare you for the utter insanity of Gotham City, unfortunately. But you adapted. You always did. Upgraded your taser, memorized the bus schedule, learned the less sketchy areas of town, did your best not to get caught outside after dark. Kept your head down, ignored the crime lords and genetic experiments gone wrong and lunatics and vigilantes scurrying along the rooftops, and you'd survived for almost two years without many incidents.
But you'd gone to the library because you were critically unable to work in your apartment, gotten distracted by panicking about how little you really knew about next week's test content, and stared at the pages of your textbook for almost an hour as you fought back tears. So now you were running late and it was dark as you walked home because the buses were down. Of course they were. That lunatic that thought he was a crocodile had smashed a bunch last week and they hadn't been replaced yet.
Goosebumps prickle on the back of your neck, but you tell yourself it's nothing. Keep your head down. Criminals target the people that look most obviously paranoid first.
You're just burnt out. Severely. But the end of your sophomore year of veterinary school was looming, which meant you would have a relaxing three-month vacation before the next one started.
And no, you weren't thinking about next year's summer 'vacation' of clinicals. Because if this year was bad after a year of summer vacation, what will it do to you to have no break at all?
That's a future you problem, thankfully.
You're still feeling sorry for yourself when you reach the gas station right next to your apartment building. You walk right by it, remember what's in your fridge or pantry—thanks, grocery store self, thinking you don't need any snacking foods—then backtrack.
Since starting vet school, you've tried to be healthier with your eating habits. Brains lacking in nutrients absorb information less efficiently, after all. But you're still a sucker for Cheez-Its and energy drinks.
You won't drink it tonight, obviously.
Right as you put the items on the counter for the bored-looking cashier to scan the barcodes, something cold presses to your temple.
The cashier freezes, eyes blown wide with panic.
"Easy there," someone says to your left. A man, voice oily in a way that sets your teeth on edge immediately. "Do what I say, or I blow their brains out, then yours."
A gun.
A gun is pressed to your head.
Because of course it is. A shitty way to end a shitty day. You should have kept walking right past the gas station.
Before you moved to Gotham, you might have screamed and panicked, but you know better now. You know to stay calm.
You clench your fists to stop them from shaking so noticeably, but otherwise don't move. You've seen hostage situations before, because this is Gotham, but you've never been the hostage.
The gun feels heavy. And so cold, like it's sapping all the heat from your skin.
"Okay, dude," the cashier said soothingly. "You want the money in the register?"
The robber scoffs. "Obviously."
"All right." The cashier's voice is even and soft, unthreatening. You wonder if training for situations like these are required for cashiers in Gotham. It certainly hadn't been for your old job, although that hadn't been in New Jersey, and it hadn't been at a twenty-four seven gas station, either. "I need to get a key to unlock it, okay? So I'm reaching below the counter."
"Just get the key," the robber demands. The gun shifts against your temple. You fantasize for a half-second about acting like an action hero, disarming him and taking him down all on your own. But you're not a vigilante and you've never been in a real-life fight before. You don't think you're fast enough to get out of the barrel's way before he pulls the trigger. If you managed to shove it away, what if he fired and hit the cashier instead?
Then comes the sound of another gun clicking.
Great, you think half-hysterically. Just what we need. Even more deadly weapons.
"Lower the gun," growls a modulated voice, and everyone freezes.
The Red Hood is standing behind the robber, also pointing a gun to his head like the meme of people lined up in a church with guns aimed at the person in front of them.
The robber lets his gun dip a little bit. Distracted enough that it's not pressed directly to your temple anymore.
Not to brag, but you recover the quickest. It's probably the adrenaline.
Thank God you keep your keychain in hand while out at night. Your fingers shake, but you have your pepper spray up in a second, and the robber's turning to look at your sudden movement when you squeeze down on the nozzle.
The spray hits him directly in the eyes, and his howl of pain is immediate. But you don't stop spraying, even when the cashier starts to splutter and your own eyes water.
The gun goes off, once in the robber's hands, and a second time when it hits the ground because he's dropped it in favor of clutching his burning face.
You stop the stream of pepper spray, because now the air is spicy when you breathe, but can't force yourself to lower your hand. The Red Hood quickly handcuffs the would-be robber, which is only difficult because he's clawing at his eyes in pain, and executes a tricky-looking martial arts move to get him on the ground.
Despite everything, you're impressed.
The Red Hood is bigger than maybe anyone you've ever seen before. He could have punched the robber in half like paper, probably, but you appreciate the finesse a little bit more.
"Hey." A gentle voice, and gentle hands, take the pepper spray out of your grip. "Quick thinking there," you're complimented. By the fucking Red Hood, one of Gotham's most infamous crime lords. The first time you read about him in the papers, he was chopping off people's heads, and every story since has been similarly alarming. But he's not supposed to be here; the Red Hood stays in Park Row, which locals call Crime Alley, apparently, and you've always steered very clear from that part of town.
"Can you look at me?"
You do. Maybe he won't chop off your head if you listen well enough.
"Are you okay?"
You blink. That... does not compute.
The Red Hood doesn't save people. And he doesn't leave Crime Alley. So what's he doing outside of Crime Alley, saving people?
The robber is still screaming, eyes screwed up in pain. He's handcuffed on the ground.
"You should probably let him wash out his eyes, at least," you tell the cashier. "Pepper spray is pretty painful." You'd sprayed yourself once out of curiosity, realized how much it burned, then sprinted to the shower to rinse it off. Which, pro tip: not a good move, especially with warm water. Water reactivates it by opening your pores, or something, and when you're in the shower it just spreads all over your body.
Your eyes are watering. The Red Hood sees that, because he tells you, "Let's get some air," and tugs you out of the gas station.
He's right. The cool night air does feel good. You blink away the stinging in your eyes and he repeats, "Are you okay?" His voice is robotic from the mask, but kind of pleasant at the same time. You'd never guess just from listening to him that he's a killer.
"Yes," you say automatically. "Thanks," you add. You're lightheaded for some reason; you sway on your feet.
"You sure?" he asks critically. "You look... pale." Judging by the pause, 'pale' wasn't the word he really wanted to say. The red helmet tilts. "You weren't shot, were you?"
"I don't think so," you shrug. Then you look down at yourself and realize that there's a large bloodstain on your hip. "Never mind. I think I was."
"Jesus!" he yelps at the sight. It's kind of funny, actually, this grown man built like a brick shithouse yelping at the sight of blood. "Why didn't you say anything?"
You shrug and peel your sticky shirt away from the wound to inspect it. "I thought I just bumped something." Sure enough, it's just a graze. You weren't sure which shot had hit you, but you'd honestly been injured worse. Plus, supervising surgeries at the animal clinic you'd worked at for years has desensitized you to the sight of blood. Maybe it's also altered your perception on what 'serious injuries' count as; the amount of times you've been bitten by startled dogs...
"You need to go to the hospital."
"It's just a scratch," you argue. "I can't go to the hospital. I need to feed my cat."
"Your cat can wait. You're bleeding a lot."
"I'm already late, and if I miss dinner, he'll start pissing all over my apartment."
The Red Hood sighs. "Where do you live?"
Your mouth opens to answer on instinct. You snap it shut just in time and glare. "Why?"
"So I can feed your cat for you while you go to the hospital."
It's nice of him to offer, but... "No."
"No?"
Maybe it's not the best idea to refuse Gotham's most prominent crime lord, but it would also be pretty stupid to tell a strange man where you live. Especially when he happens to be said crime lord.
"Look," you sigh. "I'm a vet student. I have surgical tools at home to treat myself with, and I promise, under the blood, the bullet barely hit me. I've been hurt worse by Chihuahuas that hate the vet."
"There's no way I can convince you to change your mind?"
"It's been a long day," you sigh. "I really, really just want to go home." And he's blocking the path. Your apartment building is directly behind him, just calling your name.
"At least let me walk you to your building." He holds his hands up at your suspicious look and assures you, "I won't ask for the apartment number."
"I'm literally right there." You point.
He turns, sees how close you are to being home, and says, "Seriously?"
"Seriously. What are you doing here, anyway? I thought you were some kind of villain."
"I'm reformed," he grumbles.
"Well, good for you."
You make sure you have your keys and your wallet, then step around him and make it all the way to your building's door before he calls, "Wait!" The Red Hood's jogging to catch up to you, holding the box of Cheez-Its and energy drink you'd almost died for. "You forgot these," he says.
"Thanks," you say, taking them. It would have been a shame to waste four dollars.
"You're welcome," he says. There's something odd about his voice, but you attribute it to the mask, scan to be let into the building, and make sure it's fully closed before heading to the elevator.
Your cat is unhappy about dinner being an hour late. He weaves between your feet, making his protests loudly and viscerally known. You wince. He's worse than the dogs that bark in this building sometimes.
Your poor neighbors.
You give him his wet food, then hop in the shower to clean off your hip. It bled a lot, but once the blood washes away, it's actually not as bad as you thought. You've stitched up animals before, but never yourself, and decide against trying tonight. If it heals a little unevenly, who cares? No one will see it, anyway.
You pad the wound with gauze, tape it over, and fall into bed. Staring at the ceiling, you're forced to admit to yourself that you may be looking up more in the future. Just to see if anyone in a red helmet is running on a rooftop nearby.
It was a long day. But, strangely, almost dying wasn't the worst part of it.
Actually... it may have been the best part.
~~
Forever tag list:
@lemirabitur @annymcervantes @queenmissfit @quiet-because-it-is-a-secret @iksey @thehyperactiveteen @luxmoonlight @andreasworlsboring101
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raphael-angele · 2 months
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The Gift
POV: It's Regulus' birthday and he's opening presents at the breakfast table.
Regulus: Okay, so far I got a journal that cannot be opened unless I'm the one holding it; thank you, Evan. The Cain's Jawbone book; thank you, Barty. A brand new stationary set; thank you, Pandora. And a silver snake ring that has a needle that injects poison to whoever it punctures; thank you, Dorcas.
Pandora: Happy birthday, Reg.
Evan: Happy birthday, buddy.
Barty: Yeah, yeah, yeah, happy birthday and all that. So which one is your favorite?
Dorcas: You kidding? I win by a mile.
Evan: Oh, I almost forgot *pulls out a small box* This is from Potter.
Dorcas: Why was James Potter giving you a gift for Regulus?
Barty: And why was he with you in the first place?
Evan: Calm down. We bumped into each other in the halls and he asked me to give it to Reg.
Regulus: *opens the box* oh wow.
Pandora: What is it?
Regulus: *shows it to Pandora*
Pandora: Aww, that's so cute.
Barty: What is it?
Pandora: It's like an small pin of the golden snitch but instead of a ball, it's shaped like a star.
Regulus: *reads the note* "Still can't believe I caught you. JP"
Dorcas: Aw, Now that's just romantic
Barty: If Potter wanted to be romantic, he'd realign the stars to say, "I am untterly, undoubtedly, and deeply in love with Regulus Arcturus Black. I say with with sound mind and body. Love, James Potter"
Regulus, putting the pin on his robe: So whose gift is that one? *points to a box*
Everyone:
Regulus: ...no one?
Evan: *inspects* Well, it's addressed to you. And it says Happy Birthday. Maybe it's from your parents?
Regulus: Unlikely. Give it? *takes the box* Really nothing written on here.
Barty: Open it.
Regulus: *opens it and gasps*
Dorcas: What is it?
Regulus: *looks over at the Gryffindor table* Nothing *packs up the gifts, stands and leaves* Thanks for the gifts.
At the Gryffindor table:
Sirius: Hey, the birthday boy himself.
James: Oh, hi, babe.
Regulus: Hey. Sirius, a word? *they move a bit farther away*
Sirius: So what's up? Did you need something?
Regulus: The gift.
Sirius: Yeah? What about it?
Regulus: ...help me put it on?
Sirius: ...*smiles softly* Yeah, okay.
In the bathroom:
Sirius: You okay in there?
Regulus: *comes out of the stall with a roll of bandage*
Sirius: What do you think?
Regulus: *runs his hands through his torso, looks at the mirror and turns to the side*
Sirius: It's not too tight right? I think I hooked it on the right row.
Regulus: *cries*
Sirius: *goes up to him* Hey, hey, c'mon, don't cry. It's okay. What's wrong? Is it too small? Does it hurt?
Regulus: *shakes his head* No. It's perfect.
Sirius: Aww, I'm glad. Feels better right?
Regulus: Mhm.
Sirius: *sighs* I told you to stop using bandages to bind. You're gonna hurt yourself.
Regulus: I didn't have a binder to use.
Sirius: Well now you do. And this is a lot safer and comfier. Right?
Regulus: *nods*
Sirius: Yeah. Now, you have to promise me that you won't wear it for too long. If I find out that you've been binding longer than what's safe, I'm confiscating them. Understand?
Regulus: Mhm. I promise
Sirius: Okay.
Regulus: *hugs Sirius tightly* Love you
Sirius: *kisses the top of his head* Love you, too. Now, let's get you to class.
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17020 · 2 months
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HI, I'M YN AND THIS IS MY FIRST DRINK . . .
aka the Bofurin boys (suo, tsubaki, umemiya, and sakura) taking care of you when you're drunk. based on things i have done/said when drunk, and my boyfriend having to panic while taking care of me. warnings for drinking, DRUNK YN, suggestive (tsubaki's), lots of pet names, parties yay, self indulgent. fem reader!
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HAYATO SUO — THE EFFECTIVE BABYSITTER.
Suo knew something was wrong the minute he left you alone at a house party to go say hi to his friends, finding you stumbling over your own feet trying to down a whole bottle of rum. The excuse? 'There were no clean cups, so I had to drink it from the source.'
He shook his head and sighed, walking towards you and carefully sliding his arm around your waist, suggesting you go and sit down somewhere as he went to go get some water from the kitchen.
Much to his surprise, you were gone from where he left you, back at the bar and opening another bottle. Suo pursed his lips as he got ahold of your hand and dragged you to a nearby chair.
"Why don't you sit on my lap, princess? There's no room for us both in this chair" he smiled. His intention for you to stay still and sober up was subtle, and he almost let out a laugh when he heard your reply.
"Why don't you sit on mine, Hayato? Unless you're scared."
He smiled as he made himself comfortable on your lap, thinking to himself that there was no way you would get more rum for the rest of the night. Everything was calm, no stranger could ever bother you—
"Yo dude, why're you sittin' on top of ya girl? Isn't it supposed ta be the other way around?"
Suo innocently smiled, opening his mouth in order to retaliate to the stranger. Fortunately for him, though, you did it first.
"We're fucking the gender roles, asshole."
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TASUKU TSUBAKINO — CAUGHT RED HANDED.
Ah, the love corner.
No matter whose party it is, you and Tsubaki often find yourselves in the love corner, the designated spot for couples to swallow each other whole. Why wouldn't you? You're a couple, you're there, and in the words of your boyfriend...
"Might as well join in on the fun, right baby?"
That was all you needed to hear as you entangled your fingers in your Tsubaki's hair, his manicured hand placed on your nape as he brought you closer to him, lips slamming against yours in a heated kiss.
Tsubaki's body was pressing yours against the wall while his hand was fiddling with the hem of your shirt, earning a gasp from you and allowing him to slip his tongue inside. Much to his dislike, Tsubaki pulled away not too long after finding that the burning taste of liquor still lingered on your lips. Struggling to keep your balance, you desperately grabbed your boyfriend's arms, trying to keep yourself steady and leaning in towards his ear.
"I think the bathroom's free, if you wanna have a go at it" you teased.
Your boyfriend chuckled in response, his hand cupping your cheek as he looked at you with adoration. "Remember what happened last time, sweetie?"
"M'not that drunk, I won't grab it too hard this time."
Tsubaki laughed as he shook his head, his hand getting ahold of yours to guide you towards the bar, asking for two cups of water. "Things like that are better sober, sweetheart. I want you fully conscious."
You sighed in defeat as Tsubaki handed you a cup filled with water, his eyes not leaving your figure until he was sure you had finished the whole cup.
"That's my girl."
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HAJIME UMEMIYA — DO I KNOW YOU?
"Hi handsome. What's a hot guy like you doing all alone in a place like this?"
Classic.
It was the stunt you and Umemiya always pulled whenever you attended a party. It was a pretty structured routine, even being planned days in advance. Though you and your boyfriend arrived together at a party, you did not hesitate on separating once setting foot in the house and standing a few feet from one another to start some small talk.
"Dunno. What's a pretty thing like you doing here?"
It was like a scene out of a corny romance movie: you batting your eyelashes and pulling down your shirt in an attempt to woo your (already wooed) boyfriend, him running his hand through his white hair as he complimented your looks and asked for a dance, and him looking at your dancing figure with the most lovesick puppy eyes.
"Give me a kiss, baby."
You shook your head, "Sorry, I don't kiss on the first date."
Umemiya pouted as your lips curled into a smile. He frowned as his fingers intertwined themselves with yours, his thumb tracing incoherent patterns on the back of your hand.
"Yn, I'm dying. Pretty please?"
You pressed your index finger to your lips, seemingly deep in thought. Then, you looked at him, a small smile on your face. "I don't think I can recall giving you my name, pretty boy."
Your boyfriend groaned as he stressfully ran his other hand through his hair.
"Babygirl, I don't wanna pretend anymore."
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HARUKA SAKURA — THAT WAS NOT ORANGE JUICE.
Sakura had never panicked this hard before in his life. The sight of you giggling so hard you almost fell to the floor from your lack of balance had him genuinely scared.
He knew this was your first night out in a while, but he had never thought it would get this bad.
Having no experience with drinking, your boyfriend was confused as to what to actually do so you could sober up, as the last bit of water was already chugged down by you a few hours ago. Turning to see a clean, completely untouched jar with some orange liquid inside, Sakura did not think twice when serving a cup and handing it to you.
"Here, have some orange juice."
You downed the glass with no problem, with your boyfriend handing you another one. Sakura knew it was a matter of time before the alcohol wore off, and you would be back to your usual self, right?
So why had it been an hour, and you had gotten worse?
His jacket was draped over your shoulders as you sat on his lap, his arms snaked around your waist in order to keep you in one place. You were cuddled up against him, your ear pressed against his chest to hear his heartbeat. His phone buzzed. Trying his best not to move, he retrieved his phone from his pocket to see who had texted, only to see it was Kiryu, who sent a picture to a group chat.
It was a picture of you and him, right then and there.
KIRYU Look at those cute lovebirds! [1 attachment]
NIREI Sakura, what did Yn drink? She looks...
SUO Gone. She looks gone
SAKURA I gave her orange juice
SUO Oh dear! Those were actually screwdrivers. Nirei and I'll go fetch some water for her.
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apricityxoxo · 26 days
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Sound of Your Voice
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✧.*Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem! Reader
✧.* wc about 3k
✧.* summary: Routine. Continuously. Everyday. Every day since that day. He is used to a routine, that’s how he normally lives. His routine was tedious and had recently started to feel mundane. Like a never-ending cycle of constant repetition, a cycle of violent missions and loneliness. That was most certainly not the case now. Now he has you, and he is addicted.
✧.* content: mainly fluff, a bit of violence (simon gets in a fight duhh) and a bit of suggestive dialogue
✧.*This is part two to Help and Care, Here is "part one", it can be read together or separately.
I'm so sorry this took such a long time, I've been so busy and I haven't been in a writing mood. I'm gonna start updating more and writing about different characters. lmk who you want me to write for next. pleaseeee interact, i love hearing from yall.
Routine.
Continuously.
Everyday.
Every day since that day.
He is used to a routine, that’s how he normally lives. His routine was tedious and had recently started to feel mundane. Like a never-ending cycle of constant repetition, a cycle of violent missions and loneliness. 
That was most certainly not the case now. Now he has you, and he is addicted.
He makes his way over… starting to rush a little. 
He keeps checking his back, ensuring no one is following, checking to see if anyone's watching. 
Sometimes he feels paranoid, worried that rumors will spread. Reputations ruined, your reputation ruined. He has seen it happen before and doesn't want it to happen to you.
He finally arrives at the building, making his way past the receptionist's desk. He doesn't have to look, he knows that the receptionist is shaking her head. He knows this path like the back of his hand. When he finally arrives at the door, a weight is lifted off his shoulders. 
It’s like the feeling of pure relief. 
He checks his surroundings while turning the handle and with his free hand, he begins to pull up his mask. He pulls up his mask with a large smile on his face, mentally preparing himself for the intense makeout session that was about to start. However, before the session was about to begin he realized something strange.
Your office was empty. This was the exact time he came to visit your office every other day, so why was today different? Where were you? He started pacing, trying to think where you could be. Where? Where are you? What are you doing? Why aren't you here? 
He's freaking the hell out.
Where are y–
“She's not here son.”
He pulls down his mask and quickly faces the voice. He turns and sees a tall but thin older woman in the hallway. She looks away from her clipboard and looks up at him with her thin almond-shaped eyes over her slim reading glasses. When he still doesn't address her she rolls her eyes and looks back at her clipboard. 
“She should be back next week, it won't kill you to be away from her for a week…right?” She says with a sarcastic smirk on her thin lips. 
So, word had gotten around. 
She walked away while shaking her head.
He had to wait a week, he could do that. 
⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚⋆❀⋆˚୨୧⋆。 ˚⋆
He could not do this. 
He's going crazy, it has been six days and he thinks he's going to kill himself. It's been a horrible week for him and many are starting to notice. God, he’s gotten addicted to you.
He's been snappy, and everything is starting to set him off. He doesn't think he's ever been madder in his life. He's like a ticking time bomb that is constantly being set off…
And these recruits were going to make him explode.
They had the same attitude they always had, but he couldn't tolerate their actions with you not here. He was harder on them than usual and irritated by everything they did wrong. He didn't have time for their cockiness, their back talk, and their disagreeable attitudes. However, that's all he received, and he had had enough.
“Harder, you have to hit me harder. Unless you want to die out there.” Ghost said with an angry stern tone. He was training a young recruit, they were on the training grounds surrounded by other recruits and onlookers. The recruit he was training had extremely short-buzzed black hair, was well-built, and had impressive combat skills. His name was Thomas… he thinks. He has a lot of potential, he could make it far if he wasn’t a cocky asshole. Thomas's hits were impressive but not up to his standards. He needed to try harder and be better. 
“If ya not going to try hard, I can train someone else,” Ghost said, sick and tired of this recruit's lazy antics. He could tell his corrections had been irritating Thomas. He was rolling his eyes, shaking his head at Ghost.
“Come on!” Ghost yelled. He watched as the concentration in his eyes turned into pure anger. Ghost thought that anger would encourage him to fight harder, but all it did was make his mouth move more.
“Don't be mad at me because you haven't seen your bitch in a week.”
Ghost doesn't think he’s ever punched someone in a while as hard as he punched Thomas. What was a sparring session between mature respected soldiers, quickly turned into what looked like a nasty bar fight between infantile men who couldn't control their temper. Punches were thrown back and forth and soon they both ended up on the ground. A crowd of men formed a circle around them, cheering them on and guessing who they think will win.
“Get the ‘ell off me!” Thomas yelled, trying his hardest to get from below Ghost.
Ghost didn't say anything, he was more focused on teaching Thomas to watch his mouth. He knows this isn't good for his reputation. He knows that this proves all the rumors about him and you true. He thinks about how he shouldn't do this, after throwing a punch to his face, but he doesn't care.
He was ready to throw another hard blow to the right side of Thomas’s head before he heard a bellowing voice. 
“What’s goin' on here?!” Ghost stops and Thomas quickly crawls from under him, ready to salute his captain. 
Ghost stays on the ground looking at the floor. 
“That's enough training for today. You're all dismissed.” Says Captain Price, followed by the sound of soldiers dispersing. Then he feels a firm hand on his soldiers.
“You're dismissed too Ghost. Go take a nap or something, your piss-poor mood is showing.” Price says the smell of expensive cigars follows him as he walks away. 
⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚⋆❀⋆˚୨୧⋆。 ˚⋆
“Piss-poor mood, I'm not in a mood…”
“...he should’ve watched his mouth”
Ghost continued to murmur to himself as he made his way over to his quarters. Upset by the eyes that followed him. He didn't feel upset, he felt fine. He's not the problem, everyone else is for upsetting him. 
He makes his way down a hallway and near his quarters but before he can get within a couple feet of his door, he feels a tap on his shoulder. He turns around and his eyes widen in utter shock and surprise. 
“So, I'm gone for not even a week and you're already beating up little kids?” You say. You look beautiful, your hair is done differently than normal. Your skin looked kissed by the sun and glowed under the artificial lights in the hallway, God he missed you. He missed the sound of your voice.
“It's not my fault, he should've watched his mouth.” You could practically hear the smile forming on his lips as he spoke to you. He was slowly closing the professional and appropriate gap between you.  
“Did ya miss me?” You ask in a soft sultry voice, as you look up at his tall frame through your eyelashes.
He didn't respond but by your face, he could tell you already knew the answer.
“What did you do while I was gone?” you said and as you spoke you started to walk away, and like a loyal dog, he started to follow.
“I found ways to busy myself” he lied. In reality, he did his work and was pissed while he did so. Everything that happened while he worked ticked him off. He didn't like that the recruits talked back when he gave them corrections. He didn't like how cafeteria food tasted when you weren't there to distract him. He especially didn't like how he couldn't visit you in your office on long days.
When he wasn’t working, he was at the pub drinking his sorrows away with Johnny and drinking and drinking even more so that he could forget that you're not around. You're not around, and he can't listen to you ramble about your unique interests like your troublesome cat, the most recent book you read, or the hairstyle you were planning on getting next. He really missed that. 
When he wasn’t working or drinking he found other ways to distract himself.
Other ways that made him feel ashamed. 
Other ways that made him sleepless at night, and drowsy in the morning. 
You made him crazy. You drove him absolutely mad. He couldn’t think straight around you, and it confused him. 
He’s had girlfriends, and hookups, even one-night stands. None of them compared to the way you made him feel. You made him feel lightheaded, you made his heart race, and you made him throb at just the thought of you. 
He wanted more.
He was tired of the flirty banter, the soft touches, and the heated makeout sessions in the privacy of your office. 
He wanted to get to know you, the way no one else has gotten to know you. 
Out of nowhere, he asked, “Do you want to have dinner with me?”
⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚⋆❀⋆˚୨୧⋆。 ˚⋆
God! Men! 
How dare Simon give you less than an hour and a half to get ready! 
You’re so nervous, you’re literally trembling. You haven’t felt this way about a man, ever. You feel ridiculous! 
All your life you pushed away the attention of men, in order to succeed in your career. You were always taught that men would stop you from succeeding, they would only drag you down. 
However now, you don’t give a shit. You don’t care if Simon drags you down to hell, you’ll skip right along with him. He makes you feel high like you’re weightless and on top of the world. 
He so entrances you that you think if he asked you to run away and sell crops in the middle of nowhere, you’d say yes. You’re crazy and delusional, and you don’t care. 
You invited a friend over to help you style your hair, wanting to do a natural look for your first date with Simon. As she styles the curls and coils of your hair, she can’t help but make fun of you. 
“I can’t believe ‘Ms. I don’t need a man is going on a date!” She cackles, and goes on saying “And she’s nervous!” She all but hollers. 
Even though you don't appreciate the hollers and cackles from her, you can’t help but giggle along with her. You were a hypocrite.
Okay, even with the time given… you look good. Like, really good. You always look good, but damn. Right now, you look fine. 
You managed to search for a dress that was elegant and sexy at the same time. A black dress that hugged your curves beautifully, with a high slit that showed your glowing legs. You paired it with jewelry, a black bag, and black heels. Your makeup was finally finished and as you started to set your face you heard a knock at the door of your apartment. 
You felt your heart sink and doubt started to creep into your mind. However, before you have time to second-guess yourself, your friend sprints down the stairs to let Simon in. 
You rush to grab your purse and your phone, hyping yourself up as you scramble around your room. “You can do this, you got this” “he’s already into you, there’s no need to worry” “You’re a bad bitch, the baddest”. You look at yourself in the mirror one last time and head downstairs. 
As you make your way downstairs you find Simon and your friend talking. Simon is wearing the face of a child who has been punished by his parents and your friend has her back to you. 
“What's going on?” You ask, confused. “Nothing!” Your friend said with a bright and mischievous smile on her face. You roll your eyes, knowing that she's probably giving him the best friend speech. 
“Love you, have fun!” She says as she walks past you and gives you a friendly kiss on your cheek. 
When Simon finally looks at you, you can see his face physically soften. He looks nice, you lied cause he looks so handsome. He's wearing straight black dress pants, and a short-sleeve white button-up shirt with the top two buttons undone. He looks classy and slutty at the same time. It's making you warm up inside, especially with the way he's looking at you.
His hair is styled differently, instead of the messy blonde tussles of hair that usually adorn his, it looks like he attempted to style his hair. His beard also looks trimmed and cleaned up, not fully shaven though. He holds himself more confident than normal but his face has nervousness written all over it. 
⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚⋆❀⋆˚୨୧⋆。 ˚⋆
God, you look good, so good. You look good in your scrubs and tennis shoes but right now you look amazing. You look beautiful, you look so beautiful that words can’t describe how he feels right now. It was absolutely worth getting the "You better treat her right" speech from your friend.
He was nervous about planning this date, he wanted it to be perfect. He tried his best to find the best restaurant near your apartment knowing that you’re, what you call, a foodie. He searched all day for somewhere worth taking you to. When picking out his outfit he had to go off base to find a new shirt.
He cleaned up his beard and even thought about shaving it completely, but he decided against it last minute thinking about all the times you've played with it. He also styled his hair but it looks messy now due to all the times he nervously ran his hands through it. 
He needed this date to be perfect. It had to be. It had to be as perfect as you.
“I brought these for ya,” He said, as he grabbed the flowers off the coffee table with sweaty hands. He gave you a beautiful bouquet. A bouquet of vibrant lilies that went together perfectly with beautiful white flowers.
“Aww! They’re beautiful, how’d you know these were my favorite?”
“I’m psychic,” he said with a wink. He saw a picture of a similar bouquet while you were scrolling and liking posts on your Instagram. You smile to yourself and look down.
“You look good, Simon,” you say to him, so soft it almost sounds like a whisper. He loves the sound of your voice. He loved how it made him feel and he couldn't get enough of it.
After you complimented him, he took a couple of steps toward you until your chests were pressed together. He looks down at you and holds your face with his hands. “You look beautiful”. He leans down and gives you a soft and gentle kiss on your thick glossed lips. You feel dazed after that kiss and he asks “Ya ready?”, with a cocky smile. He was perfect.
⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚⋆❀⋆˚୨୧⋆。 ˚⋆
Dinner was less than perfect…
The hostess was rude, giving you nasty looks. During dinner, Simon called the waiter a clumsy, forgetful, flirt. The waiter was so busy trying to get your attention that he ended up spilling your drinks on you and giving you the wrong food. Finally, when you do get the right food it was “bland shite” as Simon described it, cursing the people who gave this restaurant anything above a two-star review.
As he paid the check, refusing to let you even reach for your purse, he pettily left a no tip and a short message. You giggle your way out, laughing at his pettiness. As you make your way out, he's profusely apologizing as you wrap your arms around his thick bicep while trying to clean the huge stain on your dress.
“I'm sorry love, thought the restaurant was good and it was gonna go different and-” You're not even focused on him nor your dress anymore. Your eyes drift away to the colorful ice cream stand and your mouth all but waters.
“Do you want ice cream Si?” You interrupt him with a bright smile on your face. You let go of his arm and make your way over to a cute ice cream stand. 
You bend over with a slight arch to your back and look at all the ice cream flavors. You feel a presence make its way over to you and feel a hand go from your upper ass to your hip. “What do ya want Si? My treat!” you look up at him “Nah, you don’ need to get me anything, love, I'll pay”. You continue, ignoring him, “You seem like a cookies and cream kind of guy, or maybe French vanilla, ooh cookie dough?” there was a silence for a couple of seconds, then a deep sigh “Mint Chocolate-chip” 
You look at him and giggle, you knew he’d like something weird. “You got it, Si!”
You order and pay for the ice cream after going for a walk as you both enjoy the sweet treat. You find a bustling Main Street near the ice cream stand that’s illuminated with street lamps, fairy lights, and boutiques. You both walk down the street hand in hand while eating your treats. You walk and window shop and point out things you find cute to Simon. Then, a surge of happiness fills you. You haven't felt like this in years, Simon makes you feel alive, in a way you have never felt before. You finally finish your ice cream and feel the need to tell him how happy you feel. You both drift away from the crowd and make your way to a bench illuminated by a warm street lamp, that's where you finally stop and look up at Simon.
“I having a wonderful time Simon, thank you.” You tell him and you squeeze his hand as you do.
“I'm real glad ya are. I was nervous ‘bout this and I feel like I screwed up with dinner and the waiter was a flirty arsehole and I just wanted this to be perfect with the-” 
“I have a wonderful time, every time I'm with you. It's always perfect with you.” You interrupt his nervous ramble with your own. “I haven't really done any of this before and I feel kind of dumb but I like the way I feel when I am with you.” Then you start getting honest, real honest, “After I graduated med-school, I couldn't find a job and I was looking everywhere and no one was hiring me, it was so frustrating”. You continue, “So when I found that job at the military base, I impulsively took it. And when I did, I immediately regretted it, it was far from home, my friends and family, and a new environment, but now, I have great friends, an apartment that feels more like a home every day, a crazy cat, and more” You pause, and grab his hands. “I think it's one of the best decisions I've ever made” 
Simon then rips his hands from yours and grabs your face pulling you impossibly close to him. Giving you the greediest kiss you have ever felt. 
His lips intertwine with your own and you wrap your hands around the back of his head.
The most passionate kiss you have ever felt. He pauses the kiss and you go up to reach his lips once again but before you can he interrupts you by speaking.
“I'm so glad I went to the infirmary,” he says then he pulls you back in.
You know that from this moment on everything is going to be okay.
⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚⋆❀⋆˚୨୧⋆。 ˚⋆
I hope you all enjoyed pls let me know who you want me to write for next
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callsign-joyride · 2 months
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But Daddy I Love Him | J.H.S
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Summary: You finally tell your dad and Rooster about your secret relationship with Hangman. Content Warnings: Secret relationship, mentions of food/eating Lyric: "Now I'm dancing with my dress in the sun, and even my daddy just loves him." Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Mav's daughter reader
Buy me a coffee
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“I know you like to get involved with what I do for work, but I need you to stay away from Hangman, got it?” Your dad had asked you one night over dinner.
“Why? What’s wrong with Hangman?”
“He’s an asshole, that’s what’s wrong with him,” Bradley said.
“Yeah, okay.”
You just couldn’t stay away. The first time that Hangman got you by yourself was on the patio of The Hard Deck. Everyone was too busy inside to worry about what was going on so close to the water. He did a pretty good job of chatting you up and getting your number before you went inside because your dad was getting worried about you. That was months ago, and you and Jake had done a pretty good job of keeping your relationship a secret so far. You had a few close calls but nothing too serious, mainly just Payback and Fanboy catching you hugging or being too close to each other for “acquaintances”. They definitely knew, but Jake scared them into not telling Mav.
Both of you knew what you wanted out of this relationship. You wanted to marry each other but there were a few things you needed to do first. The most important being that your dad had to know about the relationship, even if he’d be unhappy about it. That was the most nerve wracking part, since he was the one who told you to stay away from the Dagger Squad, Hangman in particular. 
“You should come by for dinner tonight,” your dad had told you over a phone call while you were sitting on your couch with Jake. Jake quickly shook his head and you had to stifle a laugh. 
“I actually have plans with some college friends who are in town,” you lied.
”Oh, which friends?”
”Just some friends from the tennis club that I was in. I don’t think I talked about it that much with you.”
”Oh, okay. Well, have fun.”
”Thanks. Oh, I’ve been meaning to tell you that I’ve been seeing someone. He wants to meet you and Penny. Let’s schedule a dinner at my apartment some time in the next few weeks. How does that sound?”
By the end of the phone call, you had dinner scheduled and had told your dad a little bit about your new boyfriend. He didn’t know that it was Hangman, and if he had somehow figured it out, it wasn’t obvious. You spent the rest of the night with Jake, mainly relaxing and watching movies on the couch. As you both climbed in to your bed, you talked about telling everyone else. 
“Let’s tell Bradley on the same day as dinner with my dad. Actually, we’ll call and tell him after. I don’t want him to let it slip to my dad before we get a chance to say anything.”
The next couple of weeks flew by, and there were only a few hours until your dad and Penny would be at your apartment for dinner. You told Bradley about dinner, and he decided to join, so you didn’t have to go to the base just so that you and Jake could announce your relationship. Jake joined you at your apartment while you cooked dinner. You had him set the table and put a bottle of wine on ice. There were plenty of beers in the fridge, since you only had wine on special occasions. (Mainly because you weren’t really a fan of it unless it tasted like jam.)
Bradley walked in with Penny and your dad at the perfect time. You were pulling the lasagna out of the oven and Jake was in the bathroom. You mentioned that when your dad asked you where your boyfriend was, leaving out his name. 
It was a surprise to everyone when Jake walked out of the bathroom and asked if you were all ready to eat. Bradley immediately got a beer out of the fridge, Penny looked impressed, and you couldn’t quite describe the look on your dad’s face. Everyone sat down and started eating, and things were mostly quiet except for the occasional ask to pass something across the table. 
“So, how long have you two been dating?” Your dad asked.
“A few months, and before you get worked up, we’re happy.”
“I’m not worked up, okay? I just wanna know why you kept it a secret for so long.”
“That’s what you’re wondering about?” Bradley asked, “I mean, Hangman, I knew you were seeing someone when you started skipping nights at The Hard Deck. I’m wondering why this, why now, y’know? Like, why get us together for dinner to announce this? Not that I’m really complaining, I get a free meal, but this could’ve been a text, really.”
You sighed and put your head in your hands out of embarrassment. Bradley did have a point, but you were mainly focused on trying not to laugh. 
“We’re thinking of getting married. That’s why you’re all here, because one day, we’re gonna have a big ceremony,” you glared at Jake while he was speaking, “or we’ll head down to the courthouse, and we’ll want you there to celebrate with us.”
“Do you love him?” Your dad asked you. 
“Yes,” you said as you nodded your head.
“And do you love her?”
“Absolutely, sir,” Jake said.
“That’s all I needed to hear. Get married, have fun, do whatever you want. But try not to rush into it, okay?”
“Wait, really?” You asked through chuckles.
“Yeah. If you’re happy, I’m happy. I couldn’t really stop you, anyways, since it is your life.”
“I’ll cheers to that,” Jake said. You clinked wine glasses and beer cans before handing out dessert.You had made a cheesecake before everyone arrived, so all you had to do was pull it out of the fridge and cut it. Bradley stayed a lot longer than anyone thought he would, not leaving until midnight when you pointed out how late it was getting. 
It was somewhat surprising that your dad had approved of the relationship so easily. It was even more surprising that Rooster was okay with all of it. Either way, you weren’t complaining. And since you and Jake were more comfortable with being open about your relationship, you started going to The Hard Deck with him and the rest of the Dagger Squad. You even loudly supported him at the next air show that he had, while hanging out with the other partners of the group.
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berryz-writes · 3 months
Text
You're mine, sweetheart
Summary: Theo cheers you up after a shit day
Theodore Nott x reader
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Pansy looked me up and down, hate simmering in her eyes. She scoffed "Don't tell me that's what your wearing. You look like an absolute slag"
After being best friends with her for our first few years and realising how toxic she really was I had tried to keep my distance from her but she didn't get the hint and instead liked to comment on each and every thing I did. Of course the comments hurt me but maybe after the years they just didn't hurt as much. Maybe I was immune now. The dress I had chosen for this nights party was a short green dress, something to celebrate our Quidditch win but of course the dress didn't live up to her expectations. What was really annoying was she wore a similar dress just a few weeks back but according to her I was the one who looked like a slag.
"I think it looks nice Pansy"
I turned to my mirror and applied a light pink lip gloss that was almost finished because of the amount of times I had used it. I couldn't be bothered arguing with her tonight. I wasn't about to let her ruin my mood.
"I bet you tried finding the shortest dress in that store"
I rolled my eyes "What are you on about?" I was getting tired of her stupid, annoying comments.
"You know exactly what I'm on about. Don't think Theo's gonna fuck you after this, honey. Your just like all the other desperate bitches at the party"
I gritted my teeth together and put my lip gloss down trying to appear as unaffected as I could. "Fuck off. Jealousy isn't a good look on you"
I walked past her, tears forming in my eyes. Before I could leave she made sure to mutter "Once a whore, always a whore". I let my feet carry me outside to the warm summer evening where the sun was setting. I walked around the lake trying to blink away the tears so my makeup wouldn't be ruined. Was there any point of going to the party? No, probably not.
I sat down on hill, the freshly mowed grass making a soft carpet for me to relax on. Me and Theo had sat hear many times before whether it was to have a late night snack or to miss lessons. It was a comforting place.
I sat there until the sun set and soon it got darker. Almost too dark. My thoughts had cleared now. My tears no longer trying to make an appearance. Maybe I could join the party. Just because one person was being an ass didn't mean everyone else would be.
As I was contemplating on whether I should stand up or not someone cleared their throat behind me. I raised my wand instantly expecting...well something scary I guess.
It was in fact Theo holding a small golden lantern. I didn't bother standing up and instead waited for him to flop down next to me.
"My favourite person isn't going to congratulate me on my performance today?" He placed the lantern between us so we were both bathed in a warm orange light. I could just about make him out, his features looking almost worried.
"You were good." I said. I didn't have the social battery to talk to him right now even if he had done nothing wrong.
He smiled at me "I know. What's up with you? Your usually dragging me to parties but instead your...well from my point of view it looks like your mourning your rabbit"
I let out a small laugh. Even at times like these he could make me laugh. "I just don't understand. Why is it so hard for some people to be nice?"
Theo shrugged "They're probably insecure. Or jealous."
"Yeah. Probably"
We sat in silence for another few minutes before Theo stood up stretching out his hand to me "Come on, sweetheart. Your the life of the party. It's no fun without you"
I stood up and handed him the lantern instead "You can be the life of the party tonight. I'm tired"
"Don't let someone ruin what you want to do. Y/n you love parties. You've never missed one. Unless you really are tired, I'll respect your decision and walk with you to your room"
I contemplated my options. I could do what I really wanted to do which was go to the party and enjoy life with my friends or I could get cosy in my bed and feel like a coward for the next week. He was right. No one got to influence what I wanted to do.
"Your playing truth or drink with me then"
He grinned at me "Whatever you want, sweetheart"
As we walked back inside the castle from a more hidden entrance Theo made sure to hold my hand because apparently he "didn't want me to trip and get hurt". Whatever the reason was it didn't stop butterflies from forming in my stomach.
I had to blink at the sudden brightness of the corridors, the light finally letting me see Theo clearly. He had dropped my hand and instead was surveying me.
Theo's eyes took their time on inspecting my outfit, hungrily devouring the way the dress emphasised my curves. He finally brought his gaze up to look at me, his eyes slightly darker than usual "You look absolutely divine"
I smiled at the compliment "If you weren't my best friend, I'd say you were flirting with me"
He raised an eyebrow "Maybe I am. It's quite hard not to when my best friend is so fucking gorgeous" My cheeks heated at his words, my dress feeling a little too tight all of a sudden. I think I needed to sit down after that.
He extended his arm so I could wrap my hand around it. "I can't wait to tell everyone we're dating"
I paused. What did he say? "If that's ok with you" He added hastily.
I thought about what he said. Had I always imagined what it would be like if Theo asked me out and we weren't just best friends anymore? Of course I did. Every single second of every single day.
"That's fine with me"
He smiled again, a small dimple appearing in his left cheek "Then it's settled. Your mine, sweetheart. And I'm yours" 
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ofstarsandvibranium · 4 months
Text
Precious Truths: Part 2
Fandom: Bridgerton
Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x F!Reader
Summary: After your father finds out you’ve been writing under a male pseudonym, he threatens to marry you off to an atrocious man unless you find yourself a husband within a month’s time.
Warning: physical assault - reader gets slaped on the face
Series Masterlist
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Your gaze reveals the precious truths
The beauty that you see within
The bravery that I once never possessed
Your love is strength
Your love is pure
Your love is everything
-Arthur Talbot
You set your quill back into the ink jar and lean back in your chair, letting the ink dry. It's well into the night. Your father and aunt now sound asleep in their respective bedrooms. You find that late nights like these are the best times to write. It's when the world is quiet and you can indulge in your guilty pleasure of writing poetry. You're sure that if your father were to ever find out about this, he'd cast you out.
So your secret remains. Some parts of you felt like you should at least tell Benedict, for he's your closest, and dearest friend. However, you thought best not to. If the ton were to find out, it would be the end of you and you could never be one to drag Benedict down with you.
You can never do that to the man you love.
____________________________
You're in the sitting room watching as stands at Benedict at his easel, Colin and Greggory play chess, and Daphne coos over Auggie. Benedict works on his still life as you sit close by.
He frowns, taking a step back from his painting, "This is wrong. It's-Something's missing."
You lean closer to get a glance at his work, "Benedict, it looks beautiful."
"Are you sure?" he asks with an unsure look on his face.
You stand up and take a better look at the canvas, "Don't you artists always say beauty is in the eye of the beholder?" you look at Benedict with a smirk and then back at the canvas, "What you may find as unattractive, Benedict, someone else might find alluring and lovely."
You pat his arm and then plop yourself back into the chair you previously occupied. You go back to your reading completely unaware that Benedict is looking at you with absolute love in his eyes.
He hears someone clear their throat and he looks away to see Anthony staring at him expectantly, "I'm sorry, brother. Did you say something?"
"We're all going for a promenade. I believe we've all been inside for long enough."
You stand up, "I shall take my leave then, Bridgertons."
"Or you can join us?" Benedict immediately asks with hopeful grin.
You softly shake your head, "I don't want to intrude."
"Nonsense," Kate says as she enters the room, "We're always happy to have you, Y/N," she joins her husband's side.
"Well, I can't reject you, Viscountess Bridgerton," you give Kate a smile and Benedict is confused, "So you have no problem rejecting me?"
You laugh, "I'm only jesting, Benedict. I'd love to accompany you and your family for a promenade."
"Wonderful, let's get to it then," Anthony says, trying to gather his siblings together.
_________________________
You're following Benedict's younger siblings whilst said man was walking beside you. You're walking in silence, but it isn't awkward. Silence in Benedict's presence is never awkward, but rather comforting.
"I've realized something, Y/N."
"Yes?"
Benedict keeps his eyes on you as you two continue to follow his younger siblings, "You've always been very supportive of my artistic prospects, but I don't believe I've given the same curtesy to you and your poetic writings. I recall you enjoyed writing them when we were younger."
It warms your heart knowing that Benedict remembers of the times you'd write whilst he'd paint or draw. You let out long and deep sigh. Looking ahead, you reply, "Yes, well, I've given up those dreams, I'm afraid. You know how my father is about my indulgence with poetry. I have to be very careful. Even reading it and reciting it to the ton is risky. Luckily, my father is inebriated a majority of the time he's out and about."
"Well if you ever decide to return to writing poetry, you have my full support."
You nod, "Thank you, Ben. I really appreciate it."
"Y/N," you turn to your right to see Daphne now walking beside you, pushing Auggie in his pram.
"Yes, Your Grace?" you stop and answer her with a teasing smirk. You're older than Daphne by a few years, but just two years younger than Benedict. You've always seen Daphne as a younger sister, being that you are an only child. Occasionally the teasing will produce itself between you two.
"Would you like to join us for dinner?"
You can't help but laugh, "Of course, but I've been spending my entire day with you already. Won't you all get tired of me?"
"We'd never tire of you, Y/N," Benedict replies with earnest and it brings a warm smile to your place.
"Be that as it may, I believe the Viscount should have the final word?"
Anthony, Kate, and Violet catch up to you as you're all looking at Anthony. He looks at you all in confusion, "Something the matter?"
Daphne speaks up, "I invited Y/N to stay for dinner if that's alright, brother?"
He shoots you a grin, "Of course. Miss L/N is always welcome. You're practically family, yes?" he shoots Benedict a wink and you're not sure why.
"Well thank you for the invitation," you look down at your dress, "But perhaps, I should at least change. This dress isn't particularly dinner attire."
"What do you mean? You look beautiful as always," Benedict states as if it's the most obvious thing in the world.
The Bridgertons all give each other knowing looks. That's when the Dowager Viscountess speaks up, "Benedict, darling, Y/N is right. After the promenade, we should allow her to freshen up before dinner."
Kate removes herself from Anthony and loops arms with you, "Let us continue our promenade, Y/N."
"Of course!" you giggle with your friend as you continue on the trail.
Benedict moves to follow, but Anthony pats his brother on the shoulder, "You've spent hours with her, brother. Let her take a break from you clinging to her all the time."
Benedict looks at his older brother in offense, "I don't cling to her...do I?"
"A bit, darling," Violet says and Daphne nods in agreement.
He runs his hand through his hair and sighs, "I'm too obvious, aren't I?"
Daphne shakes her head, "No, I don't think so. If you were, she'd have said something, yes? Or maybe would have run for the hills?" she asks with a smirk to her elder brothers, before continuing to push Augie down the path.
_________________
When you arrive back home to change, you ask the housekeeper, Mrs. Burnett, if your aunt is home.
"No, Miss, she's gone to meet with Lady Danbury," the older woman replies.
You nod, "Thank you, Mrs. Burnett," you gather your dress and make your way to your room upstairs.
You freeze when you see the door ajar and you know for a fact you closed it before leaving earlier.
You slowly push the door open and your heart drops when you see your father surrounded by pages and pages of poems. Poems that are supposed to be written by a man.
You gulp and slowly approach him as he sits at your writing desk, "Papa?"
His eyes meet yours in a cold and intimidating stare, "Not only have you still been indulging in poetry, but you're writing it? Under a man's name?"
"What were you doing in my room?"
"THIS IS MY HOUSE! I CAN BE ANYWHERE I PLEASE!"
You take some cautionary steps towards him, "Papa, you've had too much to drink."
"No!" he abruptly stands at your desk, causing you to jump ack in surprise. His chest is heaving as he tightly grips pages of your work, "If anyone finds out about this-"
"They won't! I've hid this from everyone for months!"
"You need to marry," he says with definitive authority.
You look at him with a confused expression, "What do you mean?"
"I can't take your defiance any longer!"
"Defiance?"
Your father walks around your desk so it's no longer a wall between you and he. He points a warning finger at you, "If you don't find a husband within a month's time, I'm marrying you off to your cousin, Albert."
Your jaw drops, "Cousin Albert?! He's absolutely horrendous! He's a rake and a gambler-"
"And looking for a wife!" he exclaims as he cuts you off, "When you were younger, your Uncle Wallace tried to convince me to have you two promised to each other once you came out to society. I regret not taking the opportunity now seeing how you've grown up."
You clench your fists in anger, "Mama wouldn't stand for this! She-
THWACK!
Your words are stuck in your throat, your cheek stinging after your father slaps you. His eyes are red and wild as he spits out, "Mama is dead! She is not here anymore! This is my house! You are to find a husband in a month or you are to marry Albert. Be grateful I'm not sending you away right this moment."
You're holding your cheek now, trying to soothe the pain. Your heart hurts for yourself and your mama. You know she'd hate the man your papa has become.
Without another word, you're rushing out of your room and bounding down the stairs.
Your aunt had just arrived back and you rush past her without a glance. She follows you in concern, "Y/N? What happened?! What's wrong? Y/N!" she yells after you as you run down the street back towards the Bridgerton household.
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inesbaby21 · 2 months
Note
Kate just admiring reader and watching her with her puppy dog eyes☹️
Ahhhh I love you nonnie omg!
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- I'm just seeing reader on live/recording a grwm to post and kate just sitting on the bed behind her admiring her!
- Or like Game day grwm's- and Kate wants a little makeup nothing toooo crazy, but it's a home game so of course she wants to look purty and stuff! so she begs (not like she had to beg anyway!) for you to do a some light breathable makeup on her. I'm literally gushing this is too cute!
- Post!game Kate who just wants to shower, get the interviews over-with, eat, and wind down with hyperfeminine!reader omgomgomgggg.
- Kate is secretly a girly girl idc, hyf!reader and Kate definitely have matching/monogramed pj's and definitely share a skincare routine!
"Y/N/NNNN it's 9 o'clock- i'm sleepy and we have a busy day tomorrow" Kate says pouting as you talk to viewers/reply to some comments asking about your hair/very obvious matching pj's.
- I definitely can see Kate dating/marrying a Nepo!Baby BIGGGGG time- or not gonna lie a model! Like not someone who's like super out there- but quiet and reserveddd! Someone who brings her back down to earth after a bad day/game you know?
"I do understand where your coming from Syd- and that this loss wasn't something to take to heart, but Y/N came in from Milan to watch me play and we lost" The blonde says genuinely upset- and hurt, don't get me wrong you definitely didn't care if she won or lost, but it hurt Kate knowing that you'd traveled so far to see her- and she still had lost.
-Hyperfeminine!Reader who does NOT need Kate to dumb things down for her, and mad it very clear that she wouldn't be interested in going to watch Kate play if she didn't understand the sport (definitely had to watch one of those basketball explained in girl term tiktok's but we don't judge!)
-Hyperfem!reader Who definitely has scary girlfriend privilege; wearing whatever she wants at ANY time of the day because "Her girlfriend can fight"
-Whipped!Kate who definitely has a designated section in her closet for readers sleepwear, a few pairs of everything- and her emergency jewelry box! Because what's worse than an ugly outfit? No accessories duh 😞
"Kate fucking Martin. There's no way you keep a whole 1/5th of your closet for your girlfriends stuff" Jada Say Wheezing- as she shows the live the difference between the red, blue, white, black, and grey colors of her wardrobe; and then the pink, green, black, and white section that she had unintentionally dubbed as yours.
- HyperFem!Reader who takes the most unhinged, off guard, and borderline clipped pictures of Kate on Facetime/While she sleeps because "Her face is just so sweet when she's sleeping."
-Hyperfeminine!Reader Who take Kate on a Sephora trip to get her a full face of makeup (She's never gonna touch it Unless you do it, but you know just to have for whenever she's ready!)
-Hyperfeminine!Reader who spent most of her childhood/adolescence running from her femininity/was a tomboy- but randomly after hitting 16-19 had a whole life altering change in style, interest, activity.
- Hyperfeminine!Reader who let's Kate know that she doesn't have to be a "gentleman", and CONSTANTLY reminds Kate that she is a girl too, and never makes her feel ashamed for her more "girlish" interests/hobbies.
-Hyperfeminine!Reader who takes Kate to get her nails/feet done every few weeks (they do those cute matchy matchy couple sets) Kate has to get the shorter/gel of course because of basketball but!
A/N currently listening to country music! may have given me to strength to carry on 😣
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