#Usually I prefer reblogging instead of being sent through my ask box

[clownsuu]

Sorry for the artblock!!! here's a lil gift, from a shy lil lurker,

I LOVE HER SO MUCH, LIKE THEIR OUTFIT? the absolute most!! <3 <3 <3

"it's my uniform?? >:(( "

I hope you enjoyed my mini comic of Lovelie Robs insulting my boi Marky-moo.

//Honestly I see Lovelie in the one audio from Madagascar; like

y/n: I'd like to kiss you monkey man-

Lovelie: Alright, but your so darn ugly.

(also if it is not okay that I sent you art here I am so sorry. Next time i'll just post it on my account. It's a gift so i figured it would be okie)

WAAA LOOK AT THEM BE A MENACE TO SOCIETY ;;;;;

[juminsmysticmc]

Pregnancy Series - Part 3

Telling them 

Hey! So a lot of you have been waiting and I am honestly happy that you guys seem to like my pregnancy series! Please feel free to tell me your opinion with a comment or through a reblog ( I read every single # ) or just send me a message in my inbox! Hope you enjoy! 

Pregnancy Series: Part 1 // Part 2 

Jumin

You nervously rubbed your hands together as the weekend finally came.

Ever since Jumin married you, he decided to have his birthday parties only with you instead of throwing big parties with people he didn’t even like just because of his status.

But this time you prepared something special for him.

You decided to invite your father-in-law as well as the RFA, even Zen, at your place on the 4th of October to stay until Jumin’s birthday at midnight the 5th october.

For Zen, you even prepared your party room since your beloved cat wasn’t in every room of the big penthouse your husband owned.

And so you prepared everything without your husband’s knowing. To say it clearly, you made someone else prepare it because you were scared of hurting the baby, being overprotective since it took you so long to get pregnant.

Maybe you were too scared, but you knew that Jumin wouldn’t have wanted you to overwork yourself.

The room was decorated in gold and black colors and you also baked a big cake on your own, deciding to hide a long note into the cake, saying that you were pregnant. At the end of the note, a copy of your first picture of the baby was attached, showing Jumin that whatever was happening was real.

You knew that he would be more than happy to see this, to know about the baby you were carrying.

,,Finally ready,’’ you said and sighed, looking at your clock, knowing that at 8 PM everyone would come home to stay into the room before Jumin would come home with Jaehee from the office.

The first guest to arrive was your father in law. To your surprise, he didn’t take his girlfriend along, but since Jumin always had to prepare a second party for his status, your in-law promised you to bring her along the next day. Well, you knew that this wasn’t going to last for a long time, but to make the elder happy, you nodded and smiled, telling him that you were more than happy to be able to get to know her.

Lastly, Seven, Zen, and Yoosung arrived. Zen and Seven were arguing whether or not the red haired boy should kidnap his Elly.

,,I need to go home with you. You can’t take that fur ball with you!’’ he hissed.

You left the men alone for a second before you waited for the final guest - your husband, of course followed by Jaehee who just sent you a message about her arrival.

Jumin was puzzled at first when you invited Jaehee inside and led the way to another part of the penthouse, but since it was you who asked, it was okay, you were his wife after all.

The surprise party, however, made him emotional and you knew that Jumin was touched just by his mimicry and how he stood there, you knew your husband.

,,I have a present for you, but you will only be allowed to have it at midnight!’’ you teased him after he gave you a long, lovely kiss.

Staying awake almost four hours more was hard for you. Since you knew that you were pregnant, you were even sleepier, but for Jumin you could manage to stay awake. You had to.

,,IT’S MIDNIGHT! BRING THE CAKE!’’ Seven screamed in excitement, making you a bit nervous.

Yoosung carried the cake into the room after you kindly asked him to, as you all sang ,,Happy Birthday’’ to him.

,,Thank you, my love,’’ he whispered and kissed you again, ready to blow his candles.

,,Before you cut the cake, Jumin,’’ you said as he stood there with a knife already ,,here’s something you have to pull out. Read it out loud,’’ you said.

You pressed your lips together as you waited for him to pull out the long white note until finally the first words appeared. ,,I…..’’ he said, he smirked, thinking that the note was ,,I love you’’

,,A….M…..P...R...E...G…-’’ he looked at you in shock before he pulled the note even quicker out of the cake, seeing the last picture of an ultrasound.

For the first time, all members of the RFA saw Jumin Han cry real tears by the man they always called ,,cold hearted’’ as he hugged his wife and kissed her with a lot of love, thanking her over and over again.

,,This is the best present ever,’’ he hiccuped and kneeled down to kiss your flat belly.

Zen

,,You will surely be a good mother!’’ the chocolate lady praised you as she gave you the white chocolate with the baby sonogram of your baby.

You quickly went back in and prepared a few more things. The chocolate was ready, you thought you would now take a little package and put balloons around the chocolate so that it would float up as soon as Zen would open the box.

Since the chocolate was in a cute packaging too, you put a note on it saying to open it immediately to see the surprise.

You guessed that this would be the perfect Valentine’s Day gift.

Then you also decided to bake a few muffins, not just for Zen, but also because you wanted to slowly get used to the idea of baking cakes for your future child.

That evening, you tried your best to act normal because you were overloading with happiness and excitement.

The next day, you woke up pretty quickly. One of the reasons was because you had the urge to throw up and the other reason was because you wanted to drop the news as soon as possible.

,,Mc, did you get checked up? Like-’’

,,Hyun, it’s just a virus. That’s why I had to cancel our reservation at the hospital,’’ you groaned as you again had to empty your stomach.

,,Of course, baby,’’ he whispered, holding your hair as he kept rubbing your back.

At times like these, he wished you could be like him, healing and getting better quickly.

But he also knew that you were a strong woman and didn’t have any problems.

,,Okay, I’m better,’’ you gasped as you went to wash your mouth. The taste you had in your mouth wasn’t really yummy and so you brushed your teeth before you decided to give him his present.

,,Here, for you,’’ you whispered as you laid back in bed, feeling a bit lightheaded.

Zen’s eyes went soft as he saw the big box, placing it on the floor and sitting next to it to open the present.

Just like you wanted, the balloons flew up, pulling the chokolate up.

Zen quickly grabbed the present and read the note out loud.

,,I’m excited. I never thought that Valentine’s Day could become so special one day,’’ he laughed.

You slowly teared up as you thought about how much better and special this day would become.

Zen opened the chocolate and inspected the picture.

He stayed silent for a second before he looked up at you again.

,,Really?’’ he asked you, whispering as his tears found a way out.

,,Really, Hyun, really.’’

Yoosung

You hurried home after the appointment, thinking about the best way to tell your husband that you were pregnant.

After you decided to take a look at some Pinterest boards, you decided to sew a little baby out of his clothes.

You once saw it in a drama and it was, in your opinion, the cutest idea.

And so, you took an old shirt of his and went down to the city, buying some stuff to fill your baby.

It took you the whole day to sew that baby, to first cut the material, put it together in a little cute baby outfit, and patch it together.

You were really happy back then; your teacher taught you how to sew at the machine and your mother bought you one back then.

Right when Yoosung entered, you just finished the little baby.

You were proud of yourself and were more than happy that you could hide the present before he came home.

,,Hello, my wife,“ he smiled and kissed you, seeing that you were in a better mood than in the morning.

,,You haven't cooked yet? Wanna do it together?“ he asked you, seeing that nothing was prepared.

,,Oh, I need to be honest. I took a good rest today and I forgot that it was already so late,“ you lied.

,,It’s okay! I can also order some sushi or-”

,,No sushi!“ you called, looking away.

,,Can we eat pizza?“ you asked him, trying to hide the fact that you preferred to not eat raw fish.

And so you both did, although Yoosung was kind of puzzled when you didn’t take the wine you both usually drank while eating pizza.

The day went by and the next morning finally arrived. You were happy to wake up just in time to set the table, prepare the breakfast, and put his bag with the baby doll on his seat.

,,Happy eighth anniversary,“ he whispered and kissed you, hugging your body from behind, nuzzling his head in your neck.

,,Eight years already,“ you sighed happily and turned around, ready to give him a deep, lovely kiss on his lips.

Yoosung quickly sat down, giving you his hand over the table as he put some sugar in his coffee.

,,That’s for you,“ he told you, giving you an envelope.

You smiled.

,,The bag in front of you is from me for you,“ you told him, as if someone else could have made him a present.

The both of you decided to open your present at the same time.

And once again, you surprised each other.

,,You want to adopt a child?“ you asked him as he almost screamed ,,YOU’RE PREGNANT?“

You both laughed at the same time. Yoosung quickly got up from his chair, getting on his knees as he kissed your belly with tears in his eyes.

,,I knew it! No sushi, no wine! I knew it!“ he sobbed, stroking the place where his baby was supposed to be.

,,Such a little human being will grow up here. Can you believe it?“ Yoosung asked you.

You were also now sobbing, shaking his head as you stroked his fluffy hair ,,Finally, Yoosung, finally,“

Jaehee

Your girlfriend couldn’t wait to hug you, hold you in her arms and so, as soon as she caught a glimpse of you at the train station, she hugged you, sobbing into your shoulder.

It was cold outside and you luckily came back right in time before the holy days of Christmas.

Jaehee still hugged you when suddenly, something soft and cold touched your nose, making you look up into the sky.

,,The first snow,’’ you whispered, making Jaehee loosen up her hug and look up too.

She chuckled as she knew that you loved the snow.

A few seconds later, the both of you walked hand in hand towards your shop. Jaehee was happy as you seemed to be in a happy mood.

Your fingers felt hot as hers were entangled in yours, stroking the skin of your finger with her thumb.

,,Go and take a warm shower. I will make us some food,’’ she mumbled and quickly left you alone.

And so, while the warm water of your shower hit your body, warming you up and relaxing your muscles, you thought of a way to tell Jaehee that you two finally did it.

Suddenly, you got a very good idea. Lately, you were into sublime stitching and found it hard to find new things to stitch, but now that you had your first ultrasound, you finally had a new challenge to take!

You copied your first ultrasound and sent it to your favorite artist, who was more than happy to make your ultrasound into a pattern with ink.

Just like always, you ironed the picture with the hot iron on your fabric, but this time you didn’t buy the pattern and indeed used your own.

You smiled as you saw how good it worked out. You were really proud of yourself that the first step was already so well done! 

But you couldn’t keep going as Jaehee called you to open the shop with her.

And so the weeks went by. You luckily didn’t have any symptoms that could have ruined the surprise for Jaehee.

You wanted to give it to her as a Christmas present after all.

You kept stitching along the line, slowly and accurately so that everything would look nice and neat.

When you finally finished, you felt yourself becoming emotional. This was now real, this present and this baby was really happening to you and Jaehee, who waited for so long for this.

The last step was to wash the fabric so that the blue ink would disappear, making it look once again much more beautiful.

,,I can’t wait for Christmas,’’ you chuckled to yourself and put the present into a little box.

,,You really didn’t have to,’’ Jaehee whispered the morning of Christmas Eve.

The both of you sat on your couch in front of your Christmas tree.

It was warm and cozy in your living room as you both were wearing the same Christmas hoodies.

You excitedly looked over to Jaehee as she opened the box.

Her fingers followed every stitched line, her lips began to tremble and it seemed as if she couldn’t breathe calmly.

You were getting worried, but soon enough Jaehee looked at you.

,,Is that yours?’’ she asked her, her voice was cracking.

,,Yes. I didn’t have the flu or covid, I’m pregnant,’’ you laughed.

Jaehee hugged you, not too strong, stroking the back of your hair as she enjoyed the warmth of your body.

,,I don’t have such a great present,’’ she laughed and kissed your cheek.

Saeyoung

The birthday of the twins was slowly approaching. By now you were eight weeks pregnant.

You still had symptoms and felt sick. Sometimes you couldn’t even cook, making Saeyoung worry for you, but you knew that this was worth it.

You chuckled as you thought about your self made toy you prepared as a present for Saeyoung. It was a toy he had to play first before the news of your pregnancy would be announced.

It took you a while to construct everything.

It was a game where he had to put cards together. To put them together, he had to form different sentences in different languages.

Matching cards would give him a letter and afterwards those letters would give him the sentence ,,You will be soon a daddy!’’ but of course, he had to also form this sentence.

Since it was kind of difficult to perform this all in Hangul, you decided to make it an english game.

For Saeran, you prepared a little teddy bear which would say ,,Hello Uncle’’ but of course, he wasn’t allowed to open his present until Saeyoung played with his present.

The 11th of June quickly approached you guys as you woke up one morning. Luckily, you still didn’t feel sick.

You hugged Saeyoung as you woke him up with a sweet kiss ,,Good morning,’’ you whispered, making him groan, but not open his eyes.

,,Hello, how did you sleep?’’ you asked him when he turned his body to you and hugged you back.

,,Good, but being awake next to you is better,’’ he whimpered and almost fell asleep again.

,,Ya! Your birthday breakfast is waiting for you!’’ you hissed and laughed.

He immediately jumped up, yelling for his brother. ,,SAERAN, YOU ARE TURNING A YEAR OLDER!’’ he laughed, making you shake your head.

But you were happy that Saeyoung finally found his brother. You could just imagine how it must have been for him to miss his second half for all those years.

And even though Saeran didn’t admit it, he probably missed his brother too.

The three of you were sitting around the table as they ate their soup. It was a special soup for their birthday.

,,I will give you your birthday present later when the other’s are here too,’’ you told them both, making your husband especially sad. ,,You always want your present at midnight and now I have to wait?’’ he asked you, whining as you laughed at him.

,,It’s special, that’s why,’’ you told him, making him sulk.

,,My presents are always special,’’ he whined but didn’t say anything anymore as he enjoyed his food.

You were nervous as the RFA came one by one. By now, you guys were always together. You saw yourselves as a family.

,,Okay guys, because of you I couldn’t open my present!’’ he whined and finally unpacked the box. At first he looked a bit… puzzled, which made you chuckle.

You explained to him how to play and even persuaded him to play on his own.

,,Boring that everyone is watching me,’’ he mumbled as Saeran kept patting his present, you told him he wasn’t allowed to open it yet.

,,Is that german? ,,Wir müssen…’’ what?’’ he laughed.

But one by one he did it and finally had the single letters that would give the hidden message.

,,I am pregnant, I don’t even have to think about it, that’s the message, right?’’ he said and immediately looked up at you, already in tears.

By now, Saeran too, unpacked his bear and in a big family embrace, Saeyoung cried into your shoulder.

Saeran

After you were brought to the maternity ward and they did some more tests, it seemed that it was official that you were pregnant!

Saeran got up as soon as he saw you walking out of the big doors.

,,Is it something serious? It took you so long and no one wanted to say anything,’’ he whined and took your hand between his, massaging your palm as he slowly walked out with you.

,,I just had to wait a long time,’’ you lied and smiled at him, trying to convince him that you just had a mere virus.

And so the days passed again and you worked on a present for Saeran who was a soon to be father.

You put a lot of thought into it and decided that doing something handmade would be much better than just telling him.

That’s why you decided to give him something your baby would get - a handmade baby blanket with his favorite flower patched on it.

You put a lot of hard work into it, using the best material and the most beautiful colors.

And since the gender was still unknown, you decided to go for a light beige color with some red details.

In the end, the blanket looked just too cute and it hit you - you were pregnant.

The day was nothing special when you told Saeran that you would like to go and eat an ice cream with him, something he agreed to immediately.

He took a few hours free and hand in hand with you, he went to buy ice cream for the both of you, enjoying the sun on your skin and the nature around you.

,,What do you have in that bag?’’ he asked you after a while, still licking his ice cream as he pointed at the little bag in your hand.

,,Nothing,’’ you began, ,,just something little I want to give you,’’ you told him, making him excited to know what you would like to give him.

To prevent the blanket from getting dirty, you decided to wait until the both of you were finished with the ice cream, giving you the chance to talk to Saeran a bit more about his day and your day.

,,Okay, now I’m ready,’’ he nodded and looked at the bag. He couldn’t wait to see what you had prepared for him in there.

He opened the bag and pulled out the self made blanket, observing every little detail.

He tilted his head as he looked at the length of it.

,,It’s a bit too little for you, right?’’ you laughed, making him laugh too.

Suddenly, Saeran saw a little note in there.

,,It’s not for you, it’s for your baby, Dad. Congratulations…’’ he whispered and put the note back into the bag, looking at the tiny blanket again.

You knew that he was happy, but probably overwhelmed with this news and so you decided to wait a few moments.

But as soon as the news arrived in his head, Saeran couldn’t prevent himself from hugging and thanking you a thousand times.

,,You...you always make me so happy…!’’ he whined.

,,I will give my best to become a good father,’’ he said with a trembling voice.

,,I won’t become like my parents. I will be a good one and I will protect you and our unborn child,’’ he whispered, his hand on your belly by now.

,,I promise,’’ he nodded.

,,I trust you, Saeran.’’

Jihyun

As soon as Saeyoung heard those words, he began to tear up and hugged you, patting your back. He was just so happy for you and Jihyun as he knew that the both of you had a hard time lately.

,,Let’s get back and prepare something!’’ he said in his mischievous smile and helped you to get into the car.

Of course, to keep it fair, Saeyoung wasn’t allowed to tell anybody. Instead, the both of you planned on how to tell Jihyun who would soon come back home.

,,How about I make a computer print of your future family and he has to paint it in little colors? We will just make it with so many details that he won’t notice from the beginning that it’s a family picture of four!’’ Saeyoung chuckled. You loved the idea and were more than happy to go with it.

You and Saeyoung worked on the details while the rest of the RFA weren’t at your home as they too had their personal lives.

Saeyoung and Saeran, however, stayed with you partly because Saeyoung prepared the surprise with you, but also because they both were worried.

When you finally finished with the layout and Saeyoung helped you to print it out, you wouldn’t be able to tell that this was a picture of a family.

,,I wonder how he will react,’’ you laughed and thanked him for his hard work.

,,Those were the longest six weeks I’ve ever experienced,’’ you whimpered when Jihyun finally arrived at home, Lucy on your hand, also more than happy to see her father.

Hugging the both of you, he nodded in agreement.

,,I also missed the both of you,’’ he said honestly.

Quickly letting him step in, you took his stuff and helped him to unpack before you told him that dinner would be soon ready.

,,I have a little challenge for you,’’ you laughed as you went back to your room to take the picture you prepared for him.

,,Oh, I saw that on Instagram,’’ he nodded, as he remembered the logic of the painting.

,,Yes, but I did this myself,’’ you said proudly, handling it over to him.

He laughed happily ,,I’m excited to work on it, thank you!’’ he laughed.

,,Yes, but there’s a hidden message in it so you need to hurry with it!’’ you told him, not knowing that you encouraged him to work on it the whole night after you fell asleep that night.

In the morning, when you just opened your eyes and saw his black bags below his eyes, paint all over his hands, you knew that he overworked himself.

,,Will we be able to adopt a child?’’ he asked you, his voice was raspy as he asked you, tears in his eyes, excited to know the answer.

You slowly shook his head, making him wonder if his sleepy eyes made him see something he just wanted to see.

But you didn’t want to tease him anymore so you finally told him. ,,I’m pregnant, Jihyun. I wasn’t sick back then, I was just… pregnant! I was having symptomes. We will have a child together soon!’’ you told him, slowly getting up from the bed.

,,I’m so happy,’’ he sighed and kissed your belly.

,,I will never go away for such a long time, I swear,’’ he whispered and then, with his knees on the floor and head on your lap, slowly fell asleep….

Vanderwood

You observed Vanderwood, noticing that the mood was being off for a few days.

To be honest, it was happening ever since you told him that you wanted to stop trying to have children for the time being.

Your eyes followed Vanderwood as he walked out and took out a cigarette, sluggishly smoking and looking around.

You began to chew on your lips as you thought back, maybe beginning the topic with ,,Yo’’ wasn’t the best way to start.

But there was no way back now and it didn’t matter anymore since you finally got pregnant.

You hoped that a day later, Vanderwood’s birthday, this silence between the both of you would be over finally as you wanted to surprise him with a self made cake which said, ,,Hello Daddy!’’

Of course, you firmly told him to not look at it, something he would never do since he knew how much you liked to surprise him.

,,Vandy,’’ you called him softly.

,,Don’t call me like that,’’ he groaned, a bit annoyed as he closed the door.

,,Are you angry at me?’’ you asked him, scared for his answer.

Vanderwood turned his body to you.

He didn’t look happy and you just noticed.

,,I’m not angry, I’m just… I have the feeling that you don’t really care about having a family with me while I work my ass of and-’’

,,Woah, what gives you that idea?’’ you asked him, slowly getting off the couch and looking at him.

You didn’t want to fight with him, but his comment… hurt you deeply.

,,Last time, sorry, but you approached the topic totally wrong!’’ he hissed, on his way to the kitchen.

You followed him there. He was partly right, you thought.

,,But, I was just… I didn’t know how to tell you, but this doesn’t mean that I don’t care,’’ you told him, your trembling voice making him look back at you.

,,I know. It still hurts though,’’ he whispered and opened the fridge to take out a cold drink.

,,You know what,’’ you told him, holding onto the door of the fridge and pulling out the cake you made for him which was covered with something so that he couldn’t see what was written on it with the chocolate.

,,What-’’ before Vanderwood could even say anything, you showed him the cake you prepared for him with the note written on it that you were pregnant.

,,It’s true. I was mean and I should have approached you differently, but I was so down, I didn’t think I could get pregnant anytime soon and- just don’t say anymore that I don’t care,’’ you finished your sentence and looked up, your tears were rolling down your cheeks as you were unsure of what to do now.

But Vanderwood knew what he had to do and softly took you in his arms, laying you down in the other room and kissing your neck.

,,You destroyed my surprise,’’ he whispered, giving you a kiss again.

,,Sorry for being selfish. I was mean while you’ve been carrying my baby,’’ he honestly apologized, stroking your flat womb as you sobbed into his shoulder.  

Part 4.1 of my pregnancy series here 

MASTERLIST 1

MASTERLIST 2

MASTERLIST 3

🤰🏻ᴘʀᴇɢɴᴀɴᴄʏ sᴇʀɪᴇs🤰🏻Masterlist here

16.05.2021// 00:12 MEST

[royallyprincesslilly]

Title: Kismet {1}

Henry Cavill x Famous OFC Aliya Taylor

Warning: Plot, Slow Burn, Mild Cursing

Words: 3.9

Summary: Aliya is a singer turned model turned actress. Since she was fifteen, she’s been creating her empire in the entertainment world. As the daughter of a famous fashion model/designer and Hollywood director, you’d think life is easy for her, but her past has been anything but easy. Due to past trauma, she’s forever changed and no longer trusts any man that is not in her family and a select few in her team. She’s sworn off love and serious relationships and has planned never to fall again, but love isn’t something that can be planned. It just happens when it’s meant to. Can Aliya outrun a love that seems hellbent on holding tight to her, a love that is Kismet?

Note: Okay, y’all, this has been in my Word file for about a year and a half now, and I have no idea why I never posted it, but I’ve been inspired. It is mostly finished, but I will be tweaking it a little with each post. I hope you enjoy this. As always, thank you so much for reading. ❤️❤️

If you enjoyed this please LIKE, COMMENT, REBLOG!! 😘  As always, thank you so much for reading. ❤️❤️

 ***Loosely Edited/Proofread***

**Very Interactive**

  “Everyone, welcome, Aliya Taylor!”

 The clapping and cheers were deafening as you walked down the long corridor to walk through the set doors. Once in full view of the studio audience, they stood and cheered even louder. You took a few moments to wave at them before walking down the path that led to the talk show host. Once there, you hugged Wendy and prepared for the antics.

“They love you.”

 “It appears that way. Thank you so much for having me.”

 “Girl, everyone wants a piece of you. why is that?”

You shrugged and scoffed. “Hell if I know.” The audience erupted with laughter. They thought you were kidding. You weren’t.

 “Are you being serious?”

 “Absolutely. I have no idea why. I am just this normal girl. At home, I’m Liya, the baby, the one who wears sweats and high buns. I don’t get it.”

 “Oh, so this that we see now is not how you are when the cameras turn off?”

 Again you scoffed. “Absolutely not. Most days, unless I’m working, I don’t wear makeup and heels I try to stay away from,” you explained.

 “Wow. I mean, I’ve seen plenty of paparazzi pictures of you, and you always look so put together,” Wendy complimented.

 “They must photoshop,” you joked to the audience's amusement.

 For the next several minutes, she asked you questions about your latest projects and what you had planned for the next few months. After pointing out you were seen as a fashion icon, she began inquiring about your fashion inspirations. That conversation almost went on for the rest of the segment, but like the pro she was Wendy roped it back in to the hard-hitting stuff.

 “So, I have to bring this up,” she began giving the audience a look that had you giggling. “For the last few months, we’ve been hearing from a particular Hemsworth who has been preaching from every ledge how you are the love of his life. Anything to say about that?”

 You were prepared for this, it was expected. It was Wendy Williams, after all. Shrugging, you have a clueless look. “Nothing to say. This is actually the first I’m hearing about that,” you lied.

 Wendy didn’t buy it, and the look on her face said it. Holding your ground and tapping into that acting skill, you kept a straight face and let the stare down run its course.

 “Wow, you have an unwavering poker face.” The audience laughed around you, but you still kept a straight face.

 “I don’t know what to tell ya’, Wendy,” you responded with a shrug for emphasis.

 “All right. So, are you single?”

 “I’m single, not looking and very happy,” you announced. The cheers around you were unexpected, but you liked that they were on board with it.

 “Any particular reason why?”

 Sighing, you sat back in your seat. “Relationships are hard. They take a lot of work, and I require too much to be in a relationship.”

 Wendy cackled, which sent you into a tiff of giggles. When the two of you settled down, she continued.

 “What does that mean?”

 “Not much really just relationships are distractions, huge, huge distractions, and I would just rather enjoy my time, my life and work which includes helping people, changing lives, making lives better and focus on me. Relationships are just not for me, so I don’t want em,” you declared.

 Wendy looked shocked and speechless, but she began nodding. “I understand. After my highly publicized divorce, I am also in the mind frame of nothing serious. I’ll have my fun, but a serious relationship is a turn off for me.”

 You raised your hands in the air to praise her statement. “So you’ve been traveling a lot, right? We see pictures of you with your two best friends Amaya and Alicia.”

 Your smile was wide then. “Yes, yes. We’ve been traveling and enjoying life. I’ve worked so hard for so long, and rarely do I take a vacation, so I took a little time,” you explained.

 “That’s good. What do you think about the polls fans have created about who they want to see you with?”

 That was news to you. “What?”

 “Yeah. There are so many polls that are fan-made asking who people want to see you date,” Wendy explained.

 “Who are the contenders?”

 “Zac Efron, Robert Pattison, Theo James, Michael B Jordan, the names are endless,” Wendy listed off. You could have laughed, but you kept it in and just decided to nod.

 “Any preference?”

 “Who am I to have a say?” The laugher erupted around you again.

 Thankfully the conversation steered back to your work, and that was where it remained for the next five or so minutes until the end of the interview. After signing a few autographs and taking a few fan pictures, you made your exit and toward your next engagement. It was going to be another long day. This was the eighth straight day that began at four in the morning only to have your head hitting your pillow well after two in the morning.

 After three more interviews and two meetings, you made it home at the time you expected. Sleep was not in the cards for you, especially since it had been years since you’d had a good night’s sleep without sleeping pills. Insomnia is what the doctors diagnosed you with. While everyone in LA slept or got six to eight hours of sleep, you rarely got four. It was a condition you’d managed to find a way to live with after all these years and resigned yourself to never being normal in that department. You didn’t dwell on it because that meant opening back up the box you’d neatly put away out of sight that was wrapped in pretty bows as tight as possible. You’d worked hard to keep your Pandora’s box bound tight, and it was an endless daily struggle to keep it that way.

  -Two Weeks Later-

“I’m not used to be early,” you whispered to your assistant, who nodded. She knew it was true.

 “What time is this supposed to be?”

 “Two,” Pamela responded. Your golden Cartier watch said it was four till. Just as you were going to speak, the doors opened up and in walked three men, one of which was your manager Rob.

 “Aliya, so glad you could make it.”

 You shook their hands and exchanged pleasantries for a few minutes before getting down to the nitty-gritty. They spoke about a movie project that was planned for filming in the fall that they believed you were perfect for the lead role. As they described the plot and the intentions of the filming, you nodded along and took a few mental notes. As they spoke, several boxes on your list were checked off. You hated roles where black women were typecast, hated roles that degraded black women, and hated those cliché movies that were so predictable one usually regretted seeing them. These days you liked more adventurous roles, even roles that had you getting into the action genre. Why should men have all the fun of being action stars?

 After a chat about the film, they gave you a rough draft of the script which you read through on the spot. It read like a classic action romance that had the lead female tackling female stereotypes of being the damsel in distress then turning around to being able to hold her own. You were intrigued and told them such. After asking your questions, the conversation turned to salary. You were prepared for them to lowball you because you were a woman and a black one at that. When they came in with five million, you didn’t bother speaking. Rob knew that you wouldn’t take it. You knew for a fact that other actresses would have been offered more. Their second offer of ten million sounded a lot more reasonable, and that was the contract you signed on for.

 Three hours from the start of your meeting, it ended. As Rob finished up the details with the director and producer of the film, you made your way to the elevators with Pamela beside you. As you walked, your face was buried in your phone checking email after email and sending off message after message.

“The creative team is wondering if you’re still okay for the photos for the next publication,” Pamela inquired.

 “Uh---was that the set that was done at the Botanical Gardens?”

 “Yes.”

 You stopped for a moment and thought about what she was asking while never taking your nose out of your phone. After a few moments, you nodded. “Yeah, tell them to send me the complete issue, and then I’ll get back to them in a few days,” you instructed.

 You heard the “ding” of the elevator and waited the amount of time you expected it would take for the doors to open, then you stepped forward. Slamming into a hard wall, you began to fall backward with a yelp. “Oh my god!”

 You prepared yourself to make impact with the floor, but that impact never came. Instead, you felt strong, muscular arms wrap around you. Those arms held you close, and you felt like nothing in the world would dare hurt you while there. When you looked, you were held captivated by the most intense pair of blue eyes you’d ever seen. They were eyes you’d seen in passing before, but eyes you must have overlooked until now. Henry Cavill.

The man was gorgeous. You’d always thought he was attractive the few times you’d see him in magazines or even watched his movies. It was a fact that you didn’t dare dispute. Why would you? With him, this close you couldn’t believe just how gorgeous he was. One man definitely had no business being this beautiful, you thought to yourself. You couldn’t believe his attractiveness. You should have been immune to it being an actress who’d dealt with some of the industry’s finest but here and now you felt like a fish out of water. You’d never had this strong of a reaction to a man before.

 “Are you all right?”

 You saw his mouth moving, but you couldn’t hear a word he said. His arms around your waist tightened. You now had a perfect view of his completely symmetrical face that had the most chiseled jaw you’d ever seen. His skin was flawless, and the stray curl on his forehead was calling your name, begging you to reach out and just touch it.

 “Hello? Can you hear me?” His voice finally broke through the hormone-induced haze in your head.

 “Oh my god. Yes. I’m okay.”

 Henry’s eyebrows were etched together, giving you an inquisitive look.

 “Are you sure?”

 “No.” You sounded as if you were faint, and honestly, you kind of felt like it too.

 “Let’s stand you up. Here we go.”

 Slowly Henry set you up onto your feet before he let you go. Once he did, you wobbled, which had him reaching his arms out to you again to steady you. “I’ve got you.” His British accent was heaven. It was enough to have you staring at his mouth every time he spoke.

 “Are you okay?”

 Realizing how you were behaving, you remembered just who the hell you were and cleared your throat while straightening your back.

 “Yes, I’m okay. I’m—I’m sorry,” you began.

 “No, it was probably my fault. I was so wrapped up in my phone.”

 “Me too,” you blurted out. The two of you smiled together, and it was right there you felt your heart skip a beat. Again, you cleared your throat and looked away from his hypnotizing eyes. “Uh, I’m sorry again. However, I am—uh—late for another meeting,” you finished.

 “Absolutely.” Henry stepped to the side, giving you access to the elevator. After bending to retrieve your phone that had made its way into the elevator, you leaned onto the wall of the car, waiting for Pamela to file in. As she did, your eyes met Henry’s again, and that was where they stayed. It wasn’t until the doors closed, and you were somewhat alone, did your body begin to relax. Slouching back, you pressed your palm to your belly, hoping to calm the butterflies you felt fluttering away.

 “Holy shit,” you whispered out loud while fanning yourself.

The remainder of the day, you were not your usual self. Normally you were a force to be reckoned with and able to charm any exec or paparazzi. That was not the case after you left the building. You were dazed and flustered. You even had a hard time following the meetings that followed. Your head just simply was not in the game, and that was a first for you. Your father had taught you long ago that keeping your head in the game was the best way to achieve all your goals. He taught you everything he knew, and your mother taught you then some.

 You knew just who he was. Henry Cavill. You’d seen all the movies he’d been in regarding Superman because he was your favorite superhero. You’d seen his Mission Impossible movie and even his Man from U.N.C.L.E movie. He was all the buzz now because of his massive casting as Geralt of Rivia in The Witcher. Everyone had his name in their mouth.

 At the most inopportune time, you found yourself thinking back to his face, his eyes, or his mouth and reminiscing about the feel of his arms around your waist. It was embarrassing. You felt like an amateur. You didn’t get starstruck. It wasn’t a thing for you because you’d been around celebrities since very early in your career. This was a first, and it was quickly getting old. Thanks to how long the day ran, you only had time to run home to quickly change your clothes in order to make your flight out of LA that night.

Once the plane took off, you were reclined back in one of the luxurious seats with a glass of fruit-infused Perrier water and a bowl of kettle corn. It was then you were finally able to catch your breath and relax for the first time for the day. Moments of quiet and slow were far and in between for you. For the most part, it was done purposely so you didn’t have too much time to think. You’d quickly learned that an idle mind invited painful memories.

 Grabbing your phone, you snuggled in the seat and opened it up, ready to either scroll through Instagram or work a little bit. It didn’t take you long from unlocking it to realize this was not your phone. Once you unlocked it, the wallpaper was of an adorable dog on one side and a picture of a large family on the other.

 “What the hell?”

 Sitting up, you tucked your feet under you and continued to scroll through the phone. Immediately you went to pictures. The first few were interesting shots of pieces of tech and then several pictures of the same adorable dog. The more you scrolled, the pictures got more and more interesting. When you came across a picture of Henry audibly gasped.

 “Oh shit! Shit, shit!”

 Slowly you put the phone on the table before you and looked around the cabin to see if anyone was watching you. You felt as if you were doing something wrong. Realizing no one was paying any attention to you, you drank down the water and raised your hand for the stewardess.

 “Yes, Ms. Taylor.”

 “Have we taken off?”

 “Yes, we’ll be landing in London in six hours,” the stewardess informed. Clenching your jaw, you nodded.

 “Okay, can I have a bottle of champagne, please.”

 “Absolutely. Any particular brand?”

 “Surprise me.” She nodded and walked away. In her absence, your eyes stared at the phone on the table and contemplated your options.

 A few moments later, the stewardess returned with the bottle and a filled glass.

 “Thank you.” you dumped the fruit from the bottom of one glass into the champagne flute and gulped down half of the glass. Your eyes again landed on the phone.

 “Don’t do it Aliya, don’t do it.”

 Flexing your fingers, you tried to suppress the urge to go against your better judgment.

 “It would be a major invasion of privacy, Aliya. Don’t,” you reiterated.

 Before you even finished the sentence, your hand was reaching for the device.

 “Oh, screw it.” Grabbing the phone, you unlocked it again, and while thanking the tech gods, there was no passcode on it. “Technically, I don’t know whose phone it is. I do have to get some information. Right?”

 You nodded your head, accepting you were having a full-on conversation with yourself. You continued to scroll through his pictures. The majority of them are of him smiling, showcasing those perfect teeth and his perfect face. Some were him in makeup chairs, others in a house with perfect lighting, others were him at random times. After a few swipes of your finger, you’d entered pictures that looked to be of family. You could see the resemblance between him and the men and a little bit around the eyes of an older blonde woman.

 Noting that they all looked happy and loving, you continued looking through more. Your finger stopped moving when you came upon a brunette with dark eyes and blonde with blue eyes. Both women looked relatively young but somewhat attractive in a simple way. You began to wonder who they were. After scrolling a little more, you got your answer seeing a few pictures of him kissing both women. That had you stumped and wondering who the women were and if Henry Cavill was a good-looking playboy.

 You didn’t know how long you scrolled, but when you ventured into the shirtless ones, you scrolled a lot slower. The man was built like Greek God by Hollywood standards. He had like zero percent body fat and one hundred percent muscle definition. You didn’t even realize you were practically drooling until you got to a picture of him suggestively nude. He laid in a bed with a blanket aimlessly thrown across his groin, which left little to the imagination.

 “Lord have mercy up in haven for all things that are holy.”

 Pressing his phone to your chest, you closed your eyes and took a few deep breaths then continued. You quickly transitioned to his messages. Most were work-related. Six names down, you saw a woman’s name—Francesca. Not too far below hers was another—Abby. Though your curiosity was at an all-time high, you ignored it and exited his messages. For the next fifteen minutes, you scrolled through the remainder of his pictures until you dropped it back into your purse to alleviate any more temptation to ogle his body.  That was when you used the champagne to distract yourself, but it was no use. All you could think about was Henry’s literal ten pack.

 ~~~~~~~~~~

 -Henry-

“Bollocks!”

 The flowery wallpaper that stared back at him was the only thing he needed to see to know this was not his phone. It was then he realized his phone must have gotten mixed up with yours due to the mishap in front of the elevator. Leaning back in his chair, he groaned and stared at the ceiling. The thought entered his mind to look at it, especially since there was no passcode on it.

 “You can’t. That’s a massive invasion of privacy. She’s a lady,” he drilled to himself.

 Raising to his feet, he paced the floor of his hotel room. Most days, he felt like he lived in hotel rooms rather than his flat in London. He groaned, feeling the ache to his muscles, he needed a vacation. Working every day, nonstop was staring to wear its toll on his body. He got lost in thoughts on a possible vacation for a few minutes before the light of your phone on the table brought his attention back. His struggle was something real. On the one hand, he wanted to look so badly, but on the other, he wanted to respect your privacy.

 The battle waged on for an hour until he gave in to curiosity and delved into your phone. The first place he went was to your pictures. As soon as he scrolled, he was blown away. You were gorgeous. The first few rows of pictures had you all dolled up in makeup, lashes, lipstick, and all. He spent a lot longer examining those pictures than he should have. When he got to the ones of you fresh-faced, he found himself drooling. While you were gorgeous with makeup, you were breathtaking without. He marveled in the way your skin looked to be glowing, and the way your lips looked so supple—kissable. It took everything in him to move on.

 There were pictures of you with who he assumed were your friends, in these pictures you looked happy and it wasn’t long before he found a favorite one of you.

 “Christ, she’s too beautiful.”

 As he scrolled, he stopped in his tracks at one of you in a bikini, and his jaw dropped. Every inch of you was perfect. You had not one flaw. When you bumped into to him earlier, he realized you were beautiful and that there was a draw between you that triggered a reaction for him, one that he hadn’t fully noticed until the elevator doors closed. Sitting here now, he was fully aware of his reaction to you. Quickly he scrolled on then dropped the phone when he came across a shot of you in heels with your back turned to the camera in your underwear alone. He found himself biting his bottom lip as his imagination took over. That was when he got out of your pictures.

 When he got into your messages, he began admonishing himself for what he was doing, but he couldn’t stop. He wanted to know more about you—everything really. He scrolled through those messages that looked like work until he came upon two names, Liam, and Jesse. Though he was curious, he still decided against reading them. Instead, he slide the phone to the farthest corner from him and contemplated all he’d seen and the best approach to this situation. He had to get his phone back and give you yours, but he also was filled with an overwhelming desire to know you.

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

Lee’s Note: What do you guys thing? Continue?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ***If you want to be tagged please SEND AN ASK SO IT WILL BE EASIER FOR ME TO KEEP TRACK OF. Thank you for reading!!! ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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[readyplayerhobi]

Flower | 02

; Hoseok x Reader

; Genre: Fluff, angst, future smut

; Word Count: 1.9k

; Warnings: Talk of anxiety, depression, self-hatred

; Synopsis: You finally decide to take a dip into the world of online dating and find the Flower dating app. One of the top matches for you proves to be a guy who looks to be your complete opposite; tattooed, pierced, a metalhead and oh…incredibly handsome. What happens when you throw caution to the wind and reach out to him?

; A/N: Yes this is posted fast but it’s obviously not long. As said, this is a drabble series so it may be posted fast, it may be posted slow. It’s purely when I feel inspired by it. Thank you for the love I’ve had on the first part! I never expected people to like it so much. Please note that this is a slice of life fic that will deal with the MC having a lot of issues around herself including anxiety, depression, lack of self-confidence and more. I’ll put relevant warnings, but this fic is basically me helping myself by writing out some of my feelings. If you enjoy reading it, please reblog and comment to let me know! Again, I haven’t proof read lol

Flower Masterpost

-

Your phone screen is mocking you, you swear it is. The brightly lit screen clearly shows the Flower app message box, which clearly shows the series of messages that you’d exchanged with one seriously, outrageously attractive Jung Hoseok.

And it made you cringe, shrinking further down your seat as you pushed your face into the impossibly soft material of the cat plush you kept on your couch. As if somehow, that might make all your embarrassment disappear.

Because you have never regretted your social anxiety and inability to make small talk more than you do right now. You found it impossible to talk to people normally if you didn’t have a common interest, the conversation often dying down quickly as you struggled to maintain it but that was heightened with text messages.

Your own friends were well aware of this, which meant that no one ever bothered to call or text you to talk. Instead, they simply texted to ask when you were free and then came over or invited you out. You were very much one of those people who just operated best when you were comfortable with the person and could maintain a face-to-face connection.

Which was why you were now seriously regretting setting up this app. Groaning, you let your head fall back onto the couch and restrain the urge to have a childish hissy fit. Because it would be childish. Relieving, but childish.

“Why did I think this would be a good idea? You know you don’t like talking on the phone or by message, you idiot.” You hiss to yourself, grabbing the phone from the arm of the sofa and unlocking it once more.

Re-reading the messages just makes you want to shrink even more. It’s been an hour since Hoseok had first responded to you, and the messages were painful. In fact, it made you want to cry reading them over and how bad you were at conversing. You were trying so hard but you just didn’t know what to say or do.

You: Oh, thanks for responding! I’m okay, how are you?

Jung Hoseok: I’m good, just got in from a gig. You done anything interesting?

You: No, I worked and then just came home

Jung Hoseok: Okay...what did you do when you came home?

You: Watched Netflix

Jung Hoseok: ...what did you watch? Anything cool?

You: Not really

You: I’m watching this Korean drama, The K2

Jung Hoseok: Cool

The conversation died for ten minutes after that and as usual, you’d stressed over what you’d messaged him. It read so stilted and awkward, leading to you grasping at a topic to further talk with him. How did these things normally work? Was he expecting sex if you’d messaged him? Or did he want something more? Was it okay to ask him?

You’d struggled for a few minutes more before you’d finally sent something else to him, resulting in another series of lame messages that had you resenting yourself while also being thankful that he didn’t just give up on you entirely.

You: Who did you go see? Anyone I might know?

Jung Hoseok: Mmm, maybe? Do you know Disturbed?

You: ...no?

Jung Hoseok: Do you listen to any metal?

You: also no :(

Jung Hoseok: Ahhh...you wouldn’t know them then

You: Did you enjoy it though?

Jung Hoseok: Yeah! They’re great live. You should maybe try it, you might like them…

And that was where the conversation had stunted itself, leading to you simply staring at your phone and wishing that you were someone else. Someone who was great at talking and would be able to keep the flow going between him and you. Because he was evidently nice, willing to keep talking even though you were proving to have the socialisation skills of a baby.

Staring at your phone, you bit your lip and rested your head in the palm of your hand, elbow resting on your thigh as tears warmed your eyes. You wished that you could be someone better, someone who didn’t have to psychoanalyse everything that you’d said and every response that you’d been given. Thousands, probably millions of people across the world did this online dating thing every day.

Why was it so hard for you? And on the first guy!

Wiping the tears away with your hand as you sniffled, you grasped your phone and looked down at the messages once more with a frown. This guy, Jung Hoseok, was way too good for you. There was no way that someone this outgoing was going to be interested in you, not when he had to work this hard to maintain a conversation.

Here he was, going to concerts on a work night while you felt insufferable anxiety at the prospect of not being in bed by 9pm. There was no way you could work out, and maybe it would be better to just cut him loose now so that he didn’t have to bother trying anymore with you. You could always give someone a little more...boring a chance. 

Wincing, you mentally withdrew that adjective. People weren’t boring, they just had different interests. You had no doubt that by your own standards, Hoseok would probably consider you boring.

Sighing, you began to type out your message to him, this once longer than anything else you’d typed.

You: I’m sorry. I don’t know how this online dating stuff works. I don’t even really know how real dating works. I’m really bad at talking, through text and phone. I don’t really know how to do small talk with you and you kind of intimidate me. I’m sorry for bothering you, I don’t think we’d work out and I don’t want to take up any more of your time.

You: Sorry :(

Sending those messages was hard, and you wipe once more at the tears that slowly trail down your face as you try to soothe your anxiety over what you’d sent him. And then you have to try and soothe down your worry that flares up over not being good enough for anyone. 

As much as you wanted to listen to Soyeon and Chungha, and as much as you wanted a relationship, you were terrified at the same time. Because you kept yourself so closed off from people, only letting in the few individuals that your mind deemed worth the time and effort and whom you were positive wouldn’t hurt you too badly.

But a relationship meant letting someone in to a place that friends didn’t go. It meant giving the other person access to your most intimate areas; physically and mentally. Letting them know your dreams, know your fears, letting them into your heart and mind. And it terrified you. Because those people were the most dangerous to you.

With a mind that actively seemed to work against you sometimes, sabotaging yourself and your hopes with crippling anxiety and depression, the idea of letting someone that close to cause even more damage was fear inducing. It was giving someone the power to affirm all the negative thoughts you have about yourself, letting them wriggle their way into your life and your heart in a way that would make it feel like an explosion had happened if they decided you weren’t worth it in the future.

You knew that your fears were silly, that people entered and left relationships frequently and that not every relationship ended badly. Not every relationship ended.

But you were petrified of being the one left, of being the one who finally let down her walls and let someone in deeper than anyone had ever been before and having those fragile, vulnerable places deep within you blown wide open. And yet you still craved the love and affection that you watched your friends go through.

You’d tried to get it in college, dating guys and girls in such a casual way that you weren’t even sure it could be called dating. It was more like friends with benefits half the time, and you had so many fears about yourself that there wasn’t even a whole lot of sex. Nor had it been good, because it was hard to get out of your own head sometimes.

Someone like Jung Hoseok terrified you then, because he looked to be everything that you shied away from normally. Outgoing, attractive, outspoken and experienced judging from what you’d read of his profile. Someone who would probably laugh at the idea of a wallflower like you wanting to be with him.

You’re pulled out of the whirlpool of negativity and self-hatred that your thoughts had quickly veered into by the sound of your phone once more, the noise loud in the quiet of the room since you’d turned off your television. Swallowing, you blink hard and take in a deep and steadying breath before looking down at the message.

Jung Hoseok: Oh that’s fine! Don’t feel pressured or anything. I’m useless at talking on the phone too. Would you rather we meet up instead? Casually or as a date, whichever you prefer. I’m sorry I intimidate you, I don’t mean to :( 

Jung Hoseok: I know I have tattoos and stuff, but I’m not mean! I swear. I think I’m nice...

Jung Hoseok: And we’ll never know if we could work out unless we actually try…

Jung Hoseok: :)

For a few seconds...there’s nothing in your mind as you stare down at your phone in disbelief. Surely you’d misread that? Suddenly lost the ability to read and your mind had made up what you’d rather it said instead. But when you blink hard, rubbing your eyes to clear them until the words are in focus again, you’re met with exactly the same thing that you’d just read.

He...hadn’t been offended by what you’d said. Nor had he laughed at you cutting him off so quickly? In fact...he seemed to be...understanding?

Your mouth feels dry suddenly and you grab a deep gulp of water, cheeks feeling warm as your stomach swirls with confusion, nerves and tentative excitement. He wasn’t annoyed by you. He wasn’t angry with you. He’d accepted what you’d said.

He’d even...asked you on a date? 

And then you realise that he thought that you were intimidated by him purely because he had tattoos and piercings and stuff. Which out of all the things you’d stressed and worried over...that hadn’t even been a top 5 consideration. If anything, those things were just exceptional window dressing on an already outstanding visage.

His words seem to have a strangely soothing effect on your frayed nerves, a balm to your upset and confused mind. Maybe...maybe you could just meet up. You were a lot better in person than you were via text or phone. Your friends liked to say you were funny and sweet, which he might like.

Maybe he was right.

You felt an extreme whiplash that left you feeling a little tired from everything you’d experienced in the last few hours; from the trepidation of signing up to the surge of confidence at messaging Hoseok to the crushing negativity of your flatlining esteem to the small flicker of hope that was now surfacing.

Which is why you feel strangely calm when you message him back, watching your fingers type without really being aware of what you were doing. Completely unaware of the monumental impact your decision was about to have on your future and life.

You: Really? I’d like to meet up...if you want to

Jung Hoseok: I’d love to

[fluffrry]

Let Me Make It Better//H.S Imagine//

Requested by @punekar-jenner, thanks for sending this in xx

Could you do a Harry Styles imagine where Harry has been missing a lot of dates and has been ignoring YN and she's really hurt?  But then Harry finally realises his fault and makes it up to her by taking her shopping and treating her to fancy dates everyday?  Thanks a lot!  😇

If you enjoy this please give it a reblog and send some feedback to my messages or ask box. It brings me joy and helps me more than you know.

----------

It was a nice breezy day, the wind pushing the rain to beat against Harry’s window. These were the days Harry most liked to write songs. He’d spend the morning watching movies, usually romantic comedies, and then use the rest of the day to write songs and plan melodies in his music room. You were usually there to see this process, bringing him snacks and making sure he eats his lunch on time. Telling him what tunes you like and which ones you think don’t fit the lyrics. Always quiet so he could write, but a huge support system for him regardless.

But today you just weren’t there. In fact, Harry had forgotten to invite you at all.

You’d be calling him for the past few weeks to plan dates and even vent out your feelings, but it was always ‘Sorry, you know I’m busy on this next album, love’, or he just wouldn’t show up at all. That hurt the most because it took a lot to get ready for a date with someone you love so much. You hadn’t felt his warm cuddles in a long time, heard his voice quietly singing along to guitar melodies. You’d forgotten what his warmth and love felt like.

Due to your closed off nature, you never really told Harry right away when he upset you. He knew what he was doing right now was hurting you, but he figured you’d be okay with it. He wasn’t in the correct frame of mind. Instead of feeling full of emotion when he was writing, he felt stress and upset that he couldn’t get a word out.

Harry’s phone buzzed on the desk in front of him, covered with sheets of lyrics and pens out of ink. He looked up from the guitar to see it was you. He was hoping after the first two times he’d ignored it you’d understand he was busy today.

“Yes?” He said sharply into the phone.

A moment passed between words, and Harry could hear your shaky breathing, “Hi, H.”

“Hi. What is it you need?”

“I just needed by boyfriend, Harry. Is that not enough? I can’t just call to see how you’re doing?” You were already pissed and emotional when you dialed the phone, so your mouth was just saying everything you’d been feeling.

“Woah, woah, sweetie. What’s wrong? I never said you couldn’t call me.”

Harry could hear a sniff through his speaker, “Yeah but you’ve been ignoring me, haven’t you?”

“No, why-“

“…Do you have any idea how it feels to sit at a bar by yourself, expecting to see your boyfriend come sit any second, and have him not show up? Or how it makes me feel when you ignore my texts and calls like I’m some…I don’t know…annoyance to you?”

“Honey, of course I don’t-“

“…If you didn’t want to be with me I would have preferred to just be told that, because I promise you Harry that I will not be sitting at a picnic table watching the food that I made for you spoil again. I just won’t. I’ve been needing you and you haven’t been here.” Tears had started to fall down your face by now, making marks on your pajama covered legs. Your sniffs became more frequent and your voice unstable.

“Y/N you have to li-“

“You aren’t with someone else…are you? Is that what this is?” You wiped you hand across your wet cheek.

Harry simply hadn’t realized how much he’d been hurting you. He somehow thought that all of it was necessary to write music, and that you’d get it when he didn’t show up or ignored a call. Hearing you speak he knew he was very, very wrong. He wasn’t even aware you liked him that much.

“What?! Of course not, Y/N. Please listen to me, okay? I’ve been under a lot of pressure with this music thing and I’ve just been trying to finish in time. I haven’t left the house in days. I wasn’t thinking about you when I should have been, and I’m sorry. I promise it wasn’t because I don’t love you, and I’ll do everything in my power to make it up to you.

“So now you’re making promises?”

“Yes, I am. Please stop crying, love. It upsets me more than you know that I did this to you. I understand if you’re angry, but please let me make it better.”

“Umm.”

Harry waited a few seconds before adding a, “Please?”

“Okay. You’ve got one chance.”

----------

You’d never been to this mall before. It was gigantic to say the least, and far in distance from your small apartment. There were chandeliers looming over every walkway and decorated pillars beside every store. The smoothie carts reeked of expensive energy smoothies and kale.

Harry had come to your door with flowers and a blanket, apologizing once more and telling you he had somewhere to take you.

“A date?” You had asked, to which you got a cheeky smile in response. You later realized the blanket he was carrying was meant to be paired with a pillow in the car. Both brought to help with the long ride.

Harry held your hand to lead you down the wide hallways. It was nice to feel his large hands swallow yours, the coolness of his rings shocking you for a moment.

“You’ve been here before, Harry?” You inquired, large eyes settling on his face.

“Yes, I have actually. Do you see a store you want to visit?”

“I don’t have money for this, H. This was a nice idea, but you know I have rent in a few days.”

“I’ll be paying, petal. Get whatever you like.”

After that you’d found yourself traveling from store to store, trying on clothing and gazing at beautiful earrings. You must have spent an hour spraying fragrance on testers and smelling them for worthiness. Arguing with Harry over money had proved to be useless. He was very dedicated to making what he’d put you through better.

“Do you like it, babe?” You asked, smoothing out the sides of the dress.

“Yes,” Harry smiled, “You look stunning in red.”

“It’s kind of expensive, though. I’m not sure it’s worth it.”

“Please don’t worry about that right now. You’re always worth it.”

After your little trip to the mall, Harry had been taking you on dates faster than you could recover. He decided to remake the picnic date you had planned before. This included remaking the food and finding a perfectly shaded tree. He watched you blush as you read the little notes he’d put on the food. They were mostly corny jokes; Why couldn’t the sesame seed leave the gambling casino? Because he was on a roll!

Harry also invited you over for a proper sleepover. Movies, snacks, and a makeshift fort crafted to the best of your boyfriend’s ability. He cuddled you and giggled at your comments throughout the movies (“How does he run so fast when he’s wet? Wouldn’t he be slipping?”).

Another day he decided to take you out to dinner, assuring it was a day you’d worked late and felt like being cooked for. He got a lovely table that was hidden up some stairs and situated on a patio. It had tall, carved candles and napkins so soft you wanted to rub them on your cheek. The restaurant was fancy but had a very café type smell. It was a mixture of coffee and freshly made smores. It made you feel comfortable and at home. Harry suggested things on the menu through some prescription glasses. He looked so cute like this, calm, loving, and all around himself.

To top it off Harry asked you to accompany him to a writing session. You fell asleep about halfway through. The smooth guitar accompanied with his soft voice sent you right into a dream. Once he noticed you were resting, he placed a blanket over you and his writing couch. He touched your shoulder and put a soft kiss on your cheek.

Maybe next time he could take you to a pet store, he knew how much you wanted a cat. He felt so much love in his heart for you right then that couldn’t help but pour all of it into a song. If he was honest, you were the reason he did all of this anyway.

Thanks for reading! Don’t forget to leave some feedback.

[babbushka]

Babbushka’s FAQ

Frequently Asked Questions

Hello everyone!

I thought it might be helpful for you all to see my answers to some frequently asked questions that I receive.

PLEASE CHECK MY BLOG DESCRIPTION TO SEE WHEN I AM ACCEPTING REQUESTS!

1.The Basics

Hello! I’m Babbushka, I’m a fanfic writer for the ADEU (Adam Driver Extended Universe). You can find my fics in my Masterlist, or on my AO3. I have a personal AU/self ship with Flip Zimmerman, which you can hear about or avoid, using the tag ‘personal au’. I am very anti-reylo.  

2. What do you write?

I write reader insert fanfiction for the Adam Driver Character Extended Universe. The characters I write for are:

Kylo Ren in a variety of AUs

Supreme Leader Kylo Ren (Any ‘canon’ Kylo Ren content is from a Canon Divergent!AU that I have, where Kylo has crushed the Resistance and reigns as Supreme Leader with his Empress (You))

Mob!Au

Medieval!AU

Edwardian AU aka BB!Kylo 

Biker Gang!AU

Ancient Emperor!AU 

Bond Villain!AU

Criminal Prosecutor!AU 

Flip Zimmerman 

Pale (from Burn This on Broadway), 

Clyde Logan 

Charlie Barber 

Paterson &, and/or Paul Sevier 

Sevier Twins AU

Various Saturday Night Live characters (like Cameron Bissel lol)

If a character isn’t listed, like Adam Sackler, Matt the Radar Tech, Jude, etc., that means I don’t write for them. Please do not ask me to write a character that is not listed here. 

3. What will you not write?

I will not write reylo, nor do i want any of my writing to be associated with reylo. Please don’t tag my fics as reylo if you reblog them, and please please please don’t insert Rey into the reader, it just makes me so incredibly uncomfortable and the ship fully disgusts me. I also will not write “””bendemption”””, any fics about “””Ben Solo”””, or any fics set in the D/LF canon of TROS. 

I will not write heavy angst (such as breakups or divorce between reader and the character, infidelity/cheating where the character is cheating on reader or vice versa, torture or violence against the reader, MCD/reader death, hurt-no-comfort, dub-con, non-con). I also won’t write ddlg/daddy kink, breeding kink, monster aus, or a/b/o.

4. WHEN IS [INSERT FIC HERE] UPDATING???

Whenever it’s ready to be updated. Please stop asking me this question you guys lol I do this in my free time for fun, I have a lot of factors that affect the timeliness of fic/chapter updates. I am so grateful that people like my writing but I am just one girl who is doing her best. I really appreciate everyone’s patience!

5. Can we send in prompt requests/submissions for Sinday?

YES – please check my description for when I am accepting prompts. Please don’t ask me if I’m accepting prompts if the description says I’m not. I keep it updated, I promise.

While I am always accepting prompt requests or submissions, I reserve the right to deny or delete any prompts I don’t want to write. I will usually always respond to the ask saying that I won’t write it, so you don’t have to wait around for something that never comes, because I do believe in being courteous.

Any prompts that request themes, tropes, kinks, or characters/ships that I have listed above will be deleted and you will be blocked. Please give me the respect of reading through my guidelines, if you wish for me to make content for you.

6. I’m confused about some of the terms you use and events you have on the blog. What’s sinday? Is it different than After Hours or Sleepover? What’s the difference between requests, headcanons, and thots?

Sinday = On the first Sunday of every month I open up prompt submissions. I always make an announcement post when sinday has arrived, and now with the new pin feature i’ll be keeping those announcement posts pinned to the top of the blog when it’s the appropriate day.  If you’re ever unsure, the description at the top of my blod says either “prompts are open!” or “prompts are closed”. When in doubt, just check there and you’ll know if I’m accepting submissions! 

Zannah After Hours = This is usually a part of Sinday, where later in the evening I post the nsfw/smutty content. This means prompts that people have sent in, oneshots that i’ve written of my own accord, and any art i’ve made that I want to share. But Zannah After Hours can happen any day of the week lol, especially during sleepovers. 

Sleepover = A chance for us all to hang out! I reblog a bunch of ask lists and ask games, people send in questions, or they send in asking for advice, or telling us about their day, or anything else they’d like to share. We talk about all sorts of things, it’s a great way for us as a community to just hang out and spend an evening together. I often will like put on a face mask and get snacks or something, or have a movie on in the background to help make it feel like we’re all sleeping over at my house and giggling together! 

Prompt Submissions (also called Imagines) = These are scenarios that you guys send in to me, that you want me to write. It’s usually only a sentence, an idea you guys have, and then I get inspired by that and write out anywhere from like 500-1k words based around the idea. These can be sweet, silly, angsty, or smutty! For example: “what would happen if Flip heard someone catcalling you?”

Headcanon requests = These are topics you guys send in that you’d like for me to go into some detail on in a casual way. It’s not fully fleshed out prose writing, but is instead a series of bullet points listing how I think the characters would respond to a scenario, or how they feel about a topic. For example: In what ways does Pale show he loves you?

Thots/General Shenanigans = These are just opinions that you guys have that you want to share with the world! It’s not expecting writing from me, it’s just you guys shouting out into the void and us all shouting back! For example: Clyde Logan is so thicc and I want to climb him like a tree.

7. Do you have a taglist for when you upload new writing?

Yes! Please see the link in my description, which will take you to a google form. You can select which characters you’d like to be notified for, as well as what type of writing (chapter fics/oneshots/prompt fills). 

8. Can you help me develop ideas for my fic?

While I am very flattered that you would consider me, I’m going to have to respectfully decline. I spend so much time developing ideas for my own professional writing and my hobby fanfic, that my brain tends to be fried and I’m of no help to anyone lol

9. Will you be my beta author?

Again, while I am very flattered, I will have to decline. Editing takes up most of my own free time, and I’m afraid I’m fried by the time I would be able to edit your stories.

10. Do you do RP threads?

Generally speaking, no.

11. Can I send you writing that I’ve done through the inbox/submissions box?

No. While I am flattered that you’d like to share writing with me, I really prefer to be tagged in a post you’ve made yourself, rather than posting your writing for you. You can tag my directly via the @ function, or you can use any of the following in the # section of the post:

for babbushka

userbabbushka

babstracks

I track these tags so if you include any of them, it’ll show up on my feed :)

Please understand that just because you tag me in something, doesn’t mean I’ll automatically share it. I only reblog writing I really enjoy, because I’m not really willing to compromise my personal standards lol. That’s not to say that if I don’t share your writing that it’s bad!! It’s just not for me, and that’s okay :)  

12. Do you have a masterlist?

Yes! I have compiled an ultimate masterlist that has links to my individual character masterlist posts. You can find those here, or via the link in my description if you’re on mobile, or via the link on my blog if you’re on desktop! 

13. I’m not sure if you’ve written this before but -- 

Please, please, please check the masterlists before sending in something if you’re unsure. Chances are, I’ve written it and you can read it right away, rather than wait for me to tell you it’s already been posted 6 months ago lol <333

[fluidityandgiggles]

Sleep Is For The Weak - Chapter 6

Previous Chapters: Prologue, Chapter 1, Last Chapter

Writing Masterlist - for previous chapters not otherwise linked, Read on AO3

Notes (I guess): I started writing this chapter while writing chapter five and I was expecting to have fun with it, and I did, and it has a new OC in it. One that I’ve been talking about through this entire fic basically. One I’m terribly in love with and would start a fire for. So... I’m sorry if it seems like you have to keep up with all those OCs, but it really isn’t. It’s mostly just India, and this gal in this here chapter.

I apologize in advance. (Also Remy’s dad’s phone number starts with 212, which if anyone didn’t know is the Manhattan area code. Just pointing that out.)

As usual, thanks to @broadwaytheanimatedseries​ for the original thirty second long recording of them rambling about this idea, to @whatwashernameagain​ for Keep Him Safe and just for being pure and sweet as she is, and for @anony-phangirl​ , @asleepybisexual​ and @winglessnymph​ for dealing with my insanity and random bouts of ideas.

Tag list (sort of): @bunny222​ , @ab-artist​ , @secretlyanxiouspersona​ , @your-username-is-unavailable​ , @virgilcrofters​ , @why-things-go-boom​ , @ilovemygaydad​ , @violetblossem​

(If you want to be tagged or removed, please let me know! Preferably via notes/reblogs, I have bad memory, but… you do you.)

Trigger warning: period appropriate transphobia (the early 00s were not exactly trans-friendly). This chapter also discusses forms of child abuse and drug use.

—————

Emile was sent to the hospital the moment they explained the situation to the doctor on campus and was released from the ER a couple of days later. It was the very day Remy made the worst decision of his life. He missed some classes, Remy was glad to fill him up on those, and his mother had to fly in from Minnesota to look after him for the time he was there.

(Nathalie Picani was an incredibly nice woman, Remy decided within five seconds of meeting her. And he was yet to be proven wrong.)

But on the day Emile was released, Remy finally did it. He did the one thing he said he'd never do.

On that one fateful night in early November, Remy Harris agreed to babysit for Linda and Stephen Hollander. The victim? Remy. And also Leah.

"Would you please tell me who Leah is?" India asked him after a group meeting.

"Linda's daughter." Remy couldn't stop shaking. "She's six. Almost seven. And I don't want to babysit her."

"You're making a much bigger deal out of this than it really is and it's driving you crazy. It's a six year old. What's the worst that could possibly happen?"

But then, a couple hours later, Linda dropped the demon child off at Weld Hall - Remy wasn't a fan of her knowing where he stayed, thank you very much - and left. Well, then.

"You don't look like a Rebecca," the demon child muttered when she first saw Remy. And he was thankful. Both for the child having the sense to not imagine him as a Rebecca, and for the fact that it was nearing winter and he could start wearing baggier clothes, meaning he didn't have to bind.

(His back and boobs were going to thank him for it for the next six months, give or take.)

"Because it's not my name. My name is Remy, and Linda is just a bitch."

"A bitch is like my auntie when she doesn't listen to Mom, right…?"

What?!

"Auntie Steph wants to take me to see Lion King in New York on Christmas and Mom thinks that she shouldn't because I don't deserve to so she called her a bitch. Is that what you mean?" Less than a second later, "I dreamed last night that I was in a bouncy castle, and there was a clown, and I really don't like clowns, I think they're scary…"

She avoided eye contact. Much like two other figures in Remy's life. He didn't want to make wrong assumptions, but the thought was there.

"I saw a movie about real-real lions and you know that Simba is Nala's brother? Boy lions are really lazy, they don't hunt for themselves, the girl lions do it for them. Did you know that hyenas don't like boys? Like, at all? They have a really weird—"

"Look, kid, I'm sure all that is very interesting, but why do you know all this shit about hyenas?"

"My name is Leah Mae Hollander and I'm not a kid, I'm seven!"

"You'll be seven in two weeks."

"Girl hyenas have pen—"

"Yeah, I'm not gonna let you finish that! Let's do something other than talking."

He failed to notice her expression change when he said that.

——

Remy didn't have the heart to tell Leah that he already knew who George Michael is and that Wake Me Up Before You Go-Go was the song his dad used to wake him up all the time, which is why he doesn't like it, when a tiny gray bunny followed Katherine into the suite.

She swore she didn't steal him. And for once, he actually believed her.

"But it's a song about oh oh oh Remy that's a bunny I wanna cuddle the bunny can I please please cuddle the bunny?" He couldn't even answer before she dashed from the couch and grabbed the bunny a little too harshly. "Fluffy bunbun! You're so cute, little bunny!"

"Leah, someone needs this bunny right now. Would you mind putting him down so we could take him back?"

The look she gave him could kill a man.

"I found him. He's mine now."

"No, his name is Mycroft and he belongs to a very good friend of mine who is sick and needs him back." She tried using puppy eyes. Well… "You can come with me. But I'm taking the bunny back."

"Okay!"

Leah bounced all the way down the hall, and insisted on knocking on the door herself. It took several tries before Emile opened the door, still looking incredibly pale.

"I'm actually surprised you're doing this well," the nurse said while changing Emile's IV. "The lab suspected GHB, and—"

"Let's celebrate the small miracles instead of constantly pointing out facts that my son would rather forget."

"I can't hang out right now," Emile sighed. He sounded incredibly tired, almost… as if he's been crying. "I need to study for—"

"You, my good bitch, need to study for nothing. Get back in bed and I'll make you more tea."

"I'm not actually sick…"

"No, but it will help calm you down. And your mom would hate me if I didn't."

"Hello, I'm Leah!" Oh yeah. The demon child was here too. Emile looked down at her, forcing a smile. "I'm seven."

"You're not seven."

"Not yet but almost."

"Remy, please, she's clearly seven!" Leah's smile grew at that. "I'm Emile, I'm sixteen. Thank you so much for returning my bunny, Leah!"

"He's my bunny now."

For a second, Remy thought Emile was trying to imitate him. He never saw his adorable blond friend be evil... "How about he'll be ours, together?"

"...fine."

Leah bolted into the suite after the bunny, who was placed on the ground and started hopping towards his food. She was an interesting kid. A demon child, but still interesting.

Remy didn't know if he liked her or not.

"Thanks for coming to check on me, but I'm okay. You don't have to do anything. I'll be fine." Emile kissed Remy's cheek as he entered after Leah… and then didn't immediately leave. There was no way he was going to. "Remy, please!"

"No! You were—"

"I know what I was. I kept being reminded of what I was when I was in the hospital. Please stop reminding me."

"I was in the hospital two months ago," Leah started rambling again and broke whatever tension was between the boys. "Mom took Rachel to the park and I wanted to go too, because the park has the slides and the swings and there's a red slide that has rollers on it and it's funner because of the rollers and I really like it but every time I go there someone is already on it and nobody lets me slide on it so I really wanted to, so I took my rollerblades and I was on my way and then I tripped and it was very close to my home and it all hurt so our neighbor Matilda called Dad and when we went to the hospital he told me that I'm stupid and shouldn't do that ever again and when I tried to tell him that it was because I wanted to slide he called me stupid again and said the fuck word."

"And what happened then?" Emile asked softly, finally going to sit down and allowing Remy to make him tea. Well, sorta.

"I broke my arm. And it was very cool! I had a cast and everything, and nobody signed it, not even Mom or Dad, so I signed it for myself. And I did whatever I wanted!"

"What did you sign then?"

"It was a story about a group of princesses who went to fight a knight who was trying to kill their dragon friend."

Something didn't seem right to Remy. Other than absolutely not understanding a single word she said (that was a bit of an exaggeration, yes), something about the story didn't… make sense. And earlier when he cut her off, she looked incredibly offended.

Yeah… nothing matched up.

"Wait… Leah, let's work it through, okay?" She hummed in agreement. Remy was looking for mugs in the suite kitchenette. "You broke your arm rollerblading?"

"Yeah, I said that—"

"And Stephen called you stupid for breaking your arm rollerblading?"

"Yeah! I told you that!"

"And what did Linda say?"

"She said that I'm a stupid child for thinking I can rollerblade. But I can! I learned how to last year, and I'm practicing, and the park isn't that far, so I can!"

"Are you trying to analyze your sister?" Emile looked overly worried. "The tea bags are in that wooden box on the toaster oven."

"I'm not trying to analyze anything, but… something is weird." There were about ten different types of tea in there. Oh dear. Chamomile…? Emile likes chamomile, right?

"I saw Monsters, Inc. last week," Leah said out of the blue. "I saw it on my birthday and I stayed until the very-very end, and Mike Wazowski actually did a musical called put that thing back where it came from or so help me! And there's a song that's like, there's a child there's a child there's a human child, running ‘round the restaurant, this is really wild, what in heaven's name will become of us, we who are living in Monstropolis?"

"You saw that last week?" Emile sounded happy. "Remy, please no chamomile. It makes my stomach feel worse. Peppermint, please?"

"Alright."

"You saw Monsters, Inc.?"

"Yeah! I like Mike. He's fun."

Linda said that Leah was disruptive, annoying, a monster of a child. So far she… certainly talked a lot, but she wasn't disruptive, or annoying (well, maybe a little), and she didn't seem stupid at all. On their way over here she kept pointing at the suite numbers (not that many, but apparently she loved it) and asking Remy to read them to her, after which she'd declare whether or not they were multiples of three. And she couldn't stop talking about animals, some of which Remy didn't even know existed - she kept talking about betta fish for some reason, whatever those fish were, and how people killed their fish by putting more than one in the fish tank or putting cold water instead of warm (he was starting to think she just really liked betta fish). And those things meant she was… the opposite of stupid. No?

He was being redundant in his own head, it wasn't nice.

"Leah, I don't think you're stupid." Leah made a squeaky noise in response. "Linda and Stephen make no sense."

"But I can't do anything right…"

"Says who?"

"Remy Harris, you came here to make yourself useful, now where's my tea?" Emile laughed.

Once the tea was made, they sat down and watched Monsters, Inc. as per Leah's request.

Things were going to be okay today.

——

"How was babysitting the little rascal?"

"Dad… don't call her that."

"Changed your mind?"

"I don't know… I don't remember Linda berating me as much as she does Leah, and it sucks. I almost want to call social services and I only met that girl today!"

"Remy, kiddo, calm down. You'll get to see her again for thanksgiving and get a better picture of what's going on—"

"But I don't want to see them for thanksgiving and I'm worried for Leah! She's learning to play the piano, she can calculate stuff really quickly for a six year old, she remembers things with scary accuracy, it's almost inhuman… and she was called names by Linda and her husband for breaking her arm rollerblading. That's not—"

"How's Emile? Last time I called you said he was in the hospital."

"Yeah… he had a blood test. They found traces of GHB. He doesn't want to talk about it though."

"I know you probably don't want to hear this—"

"Don't tell me if I don't want to know about this…"

"When you were three, your mom used to go out a lot. She loved clubbing."

"She went out a lot my whole childhood, Dad. It's not news. She never really grew up since the eighties."

"She was seventeen when she had you, you can be a little bit—"

"Which means she's thirty-five, in a good enough position to raise children, and she chooses to call her daughter names for not fulfilling her expectations. Huh, kind of like how she treats me, isn't it?"

"...you'll be the death of me, child."

"I know. I'm already working on it. You can't see me but I'm winking at you."

"Remy, please don't make this harder than it is. Do you think I want her to want contact with you?"

"No, I don't. I don't want her to either. But it's not like I have any choice. You're making me do this!"

"You're being a brat."

"Thank you so much, I totally needed to hear that."

Remy hung up. Something was… not quite right. He just had to—

Incoming Call: 212-729-5555

"I don't want to talk to you right now."

"You said you didn't want to babysit Linda's kids, and now you're protecting her child like your life depends on it. Do you want to listen to what I have to say or not?"

"...sure. Whatever."

"When you were six, I had to leave you with your grandparents one night because your mom didn't come home from one of her parties. She almost died that night."

"And that has to do with what exactly?"

"That has to do with you being super worried about Emile. He's alive, isn't he? And he's doing alright. All you can do now is be there to support him."

"Well… yeah, you're right. I hate it when you're right."

"Now, about Leah. I know you don't trust your mom, I know you can't stand her, but it's no reason to call social services."

"Okay, I call her Linda to distance myself from her. She's not my mom. And the way Leah says she treats her is horrendous, and I would say it's abusive but I don't know the severity of it yet. So will you please just…"

"I think you need to take a day off, think about it, and we'll talk tomorrow."

"...fine. Good night, Dad. I'm going to go to sleep."

"Good. Good night, son. Sleep tight."

[kazosa]

Secrets - SoA: Chapter 2

Summary: Reader has lived in a life full of secrets. When her father dies unexpectedly and sends her on a trip all over the country, she finds out just how much like her father she really is. The end of her trip brings her to Charming, CA where she finally gets some big pieces of her family puzzle put back in place and form new relationships with the people there. Chapter 2: Chibs and reader go to Scoops and have dinner together. Warnings: language A/N: If it wasn’t clear before, this takes place after the events of the final episode, so SPOILERS Word Count:  2900 Tags: @telford-ortiz-teller  @sam-samcro  @tstieff IF YOU WISH TO BE TAGGED, PLEASE LET ME KNOW IN SOME WAY. ASK BOX IS SAFEST WAY, BUT I DO TRY TO LOOK AT ALL COMMENTS AND REBLOGS. COMMENTS WELCOME! Secrets Masterlist

     He took his hand away slowly like he didn’t want to break that one point of skin to skin contact. You let him get situated and restart the engine before you retightened your hold on him. Over the rumble of the engine, he asked if you were ready to go and you patted him on the chest in answer. He pulled away from the side of the road easily then he really opened it up, forcing you to tighten your hold on him even more. You giggled at the rush of power. It was exhilarating every time. You didn’t know where Chibs was taking you but you didn’t much care. It felt good to ride with Chibs. Every time you loosened your hold on him, he’d make a sudden turn forcing you to squeeze him again. You would have thought it were a coincidence if you hadn’t felt his chest rumble each time.      He seemed to take you on a little ride around Charming just for a little fun, probably. Any other day you would have been fine to keep going, but, as it was, it had been a very long day. Eventually Chibs brought you back around to the side of town where you thought the motel was, instead, he stopped across from a store that still had lights on inside. The green lettering on the glass read “Scoops and Sweets.”      There were people inside that looked like families and young couples. You didn’t picture Chibs as milkshakes and burgers kind of guy. Your body had gotten stiff from just the short ride around Charming. You put your hands on Chibs shoulders and braced yourself as you gingerly got off the motorcycle.      “Ye alrigh’, lass?” he asked you seeming genuinely concerned.      You stretched out and leaned over to touch your toes. You groaned with pleasure as all of the right muscles stretched out. Standing back up straight, “Yeah. When I first started this little odyssey, I was riding twelve hours or more a day, it did a number on my back. I rode hard today and sometimes I don’t know when to take it easy. I also hurt my back when I was a kid and sometimes it bothers me.” You put your hands on your lower back and leaned backward to stretch again. “Scoops huh? They have a shower?”      Chibs chuckled as he got off his bike. “Aye, there’s an apartment upstairs and two other rooms. We now have THREE, proper functioning showers,” he said trying to sound convincing and you thought maybe it wasn’t just for you.      He led you across the street and held the door for you to go inside Scoops. You felt all of the eyes turn to you and Chibs. You must have looked like hell. Some of the girls inside were giving you the once over. You were about to ask Chibs what the hell was going on, when you finally saw the front of his kutte. He had a President patch. Shit. You knew the Sons of Anarchy were a motorcycle club and you knew that there was a hierarchy, you just didn’t know that the guy you had been hard-core flirting with was the head of said club.      “Chuckie!” Chibs bellowed as he slapped the counter a few times. “Chuckie will make whatever you want. He’s a little… odd, but good cook and a good guy.”      A squirrely looking guy came bursting through swinging doors you assumed went to a kitchen. It was hard to miss his prosthetic hands. “Hey boss!” he said with more exuberance than you cared for on an empty stomach. His eyes went to you and you registered a small nod before he turned back to Chibs.      “Chuckie, I need you to make whatever the lady likes and my usual,” Chibs told him.      The man named Chuckie took a step toward you. You leaned on the counter to talk to him, “What’s his usual?”      “Steak, medium-rare and roasted potatoes with a butter and chive drizzle. Whiskey, neat,” he said quickly.      You thought that over a minute. “I like grilled chicken. Can you work me some magic? I’m kinda starving. I’d love some potatoes, too. Ice water and a double of whatever spiced rum you have and Coke.”      “Rum preference?” the squirrely man asked.      “Sailor Jerry, if you don’t have it Captain works just right, too,” you told him.      “You got it,” he smiled.      Chuckie looked back to Chibs for direction. He gave him a slight nod. “She’s a friend of the club, Bud’s girl. How long?”      That you were “Bud’s girl” seemed to mean something, “Uh, I gotta check to see what’s thawed, but twenty-five minutes or so?”      You were still leaning on the counter when Chibs spoke to you. “That enough time?”      “Plenty,” you nodded.      Chibs motioned for you to follow him, “Bring it up, Chuckie.”      The small man nodded at Chibs, smiled at you and buzzed back into the kitchen.      Chibs led you up the stairs. When you reached the upper floor, there was an option of going into a large area that you guessed was the clubhouse or you could go around the stairs to the back to what looked like it could be an apartment. Chibs led you around to the back side. He pulled out keys to unlock the door that led into a small hall. At the end of the hall, there were three doors. Chibs went to the one in the middle, which also required a key.      Once inside the final door, you were inside the apartment he had told you about. The two windows in the room were made of solid glass bricks. The room still had the smell of fresh paint and drywall mud. The furnishings were sparse and the room itself could barely be called a living room, but there was a carpet remnant on the tile floor and some older than dirt armchairs centered in front of a tv that was attached to a wall. Behind this living space was a tiny kitchenette complete with a range, microwave, sink and a small refrigerator.      You suddenly got a weird feeling, like you were intruding. “Should I be up here? Aren’t there rules about this? I don’t know about MC’s very much, but… people were staring at me downstairs. And now I’m up here, in private space. It’s all very…intimate.”      “Aye, well, being President of the club has its perks. Don’t worry about it, lass, being Bud’s daughter makes you a friend of the club by default. If you get TM through this audit relatively unscathed, you’ll have earned it on your own.” He reached his hand around a door jamb and flicked on a light to reveal a bedroom. He stepped inside to get the light for the bathroom.      “Use what ye need, won’t bother me any,” he said leaning against the bathroom jamb. “Don’t have anything for lassies, though.”      You tentatively stepped inside his room. It was a little nicer than you had expected. Queen-sized bed, comfortable bedding, a dresser and night stand. The stark white interior of the bathroom had shone brightly. He let you pass by him. Your flirtation earlier all but forgotten as the call of his shower and hot water drowned out everything else.      “Thanks for this,” you managed to say.      He nodded, “I’ll wait for ye in the living room.”      You stopped him, “If you don’t mind, would you stay close? Talk to me?”

     “You sure about that, lass?” he asked her. Awfully ballsy to ask a stranger to do such a thing.      “Yeah, you coulda taken advantage long before we got here,” she said, “I’m sure.”      He wasn’t about to say no to the lass so he stood outside the door to give her a little privacy. He heard her looking for the towels then rustling inside the bag she’d worn in. He’d felt guilty for lusting after her earlier. She was Bud’s daughter, after all. His goddamned Catholic guilt was coming after him already. She was a good bit younger than himself, he’d thought. Had to be. He knew Bud left in ’84. (Y|N) had said she turned five in Iowa. Jesus, that made her…      “So how well did you know my dad?” she called. The water was finally running.      “Oh, pretty well. Saw him at least once a year, sometimes more. Would stay a week or so,” he answered. He didn’t know how much he should tell her. Bud had always been very careful not to mix California with Iowa. “What does your ma say about all this?”     “Haaaa,” she stepped into the shower and closed the curtain, “Well, DEBRA was less than pleased. Told me I was just like my father and to not come crying to her when it all went to shit.”      Chibs chuckled, “Aye, that sounds like Debbie.”      “Know her, too, do ya?” she called out.      He could smell his shampoo. “Aye, salty one, yer ma.”      “Yeah… salty. Hey, I can barely hear you, could you step in?” she called.      He didn’t know what to think of her. She should have been scared of him. A normal person would have been scared or insisted on privacy, but here she was in his shower and using his shampoo, door wide open and inviting him in. He stepped around the corner to stand by the sink in the bathroom.      “How long have ye been on the road?” he asked.      “Long time. Almost a year,” she said. “God, this shower is awesome.”      A year was a long time to do anything, in his book. It impressed him that she’d been on the road that long to fulfill her father’s last wish. If Bud sent her on this trip, he must have wanted her to know what it was like, being on the road, the life. He guessed there was a lot she didn’t know.      “You still there?” she called.      Chibs could smell his soap now. He told himself it wasn’t a turn on that there was a pretty woman in his dorm, using his things, in his shower… “Aye.”

     “You went quiet on me,” you quickly drug your razor over your soapy legs hoping to Christ you didn’t slice your leg open. “Sorry, I’m trying to hurry.”      “No rush,” he said.      “Hey, I’m sorry about earlier,” you said.      “Sorry? For what?” he asked.      “It’s been a while since I’ve gotten to talk to anyone,” you tried to explain away your blatant flirting. Hell, it was more than that, you’d practically offered to have sex on his bike. “I tend to run my mouth a little too much around people I like, or when I’m nervous.” Like now, shut up, dumbass.      He looked at the floor and smiled, “Flirting never hurt anyone, lass.”      He was being very sweet with you. He was probably trying to forget you even said it. You were never so bold with men, but… he’d responded to it… you thought. You finished the other leg and rinsed off.      “Chibs?” you turned off the water.      “Aye?”      “Could you hand me the towel? I left it on the counter,” you asked.      He turned around and grabbed the towel to hand to you. The opaque curtain hid everything from view as he handed the towel over the top.      “I’ll wait for you outside now,” he told you.      It didn’t take you long to get ready after that. You toweled off and wrapped your hair up in the towel when your body was dry. You had one, precious, bottle of your favorite lotion, which you slathered all over your body. It had been so long, your body just soaked it up. You pulled out your clean set of clothes and put them on. If you stayed any length of time in Charming, you were going to need more clothes. You combed through your hair and checked yourself out in the mirror. You wouldn’t win any beauty contests, but at least you were clean. After you gathered your things and stuffed them back into your bag, you turned off the light and went to find Chibs.

     He was in the small kitchenette with Chuckie. A card table had been set up and there were mouthwatering smells coming from the tray Chuckie had brought up. Your stomach rumbled in answer. It took you a moment to remember when you ate last and it was sometime the night before. You’d left for Charming before 5 that morning and had only stopped for gas. You guessed it was somewhere close to 7 or 7:15 pm.      You stepped out into the small living room wearing your skinny jeans and Led Zeppelin t-shirt when the men finally noticed your presence. You dropped your bag on the floor near one of the armchairs and went to the card table and just smelled the food. It was heavenly.      “Hi (Y|N)! I hope you like it!” Chuckie spoke to you first.      You leaned on one of the folding chairs and breathed in deeply. It was even better up close. “If it’s half as good as it smells, I’m sure I’ll love it. Thank you, Chuckie,” you said sincerely and touched his shoulder. He’d even remembered to bring your ice water and double rum and coke.      Chuckie must have followed your gaze, “We only have Captain but if you plan on staying a while, I can order Sailor Jerry.”      “No, that’s fine, Chuckie. Don’t trouble yourself over it,” you told him      “No, it’s no trouble. Maybe I can find some around Charming,” he said.      “Oh, let me give you some cash,” you turned and moved to go back to your bag for your wallet.      Chibs finally spoke up, “No, you’re a friend of the club. It’s on us.”      Chibs waived Chuckie off. You watched as the door closed behind Chuckie. It was just you and Chibs again and your mind flashed back to your flirty exchange on Chibs’ bike.      “It’s gonna get cold, love,” he said gently.      You turned to see him standing near your chair waiting for you. It warmed your heart a little to see him waiting for you. Most men you’d encountered had lost any sense of chivalry and you rarely, if ever in your life, had been on the receiving end of it. The men you’d come across either ignored you completely or were intimidated by you. Having a bunch of bikers be sweet and kind to you was something you were not used to at all.      Chibs even helped you with your chair and you checked off something on your list of things you never thought would happen. You waited for him to sit before you dug in. You took a bite of potatoes and immediately were rewarded. Chuckie was a genius. You savored the taste a moment before taking a long drink of water.      You and Chibs got a few bites into your meals before you broke the ice.      “Charming seems like a town where people are born, raised and die.” Chibs nodded. “So, how does a guy like you get here?”      He looked up at you from under his eyebrows, “A guy like me?”

     He wasn’t sure what to make of (Y|N), or what she meant by ‘a guy like him’. Her straightforward way could be off-putting to some people, but he rather appreciated it. There had been too much lying and conspiring in the club. The way she took everything in stride reminded him of her da. Hell, she barely batted an eye at Chuckie and his hands, and she’d ridden in the truck cab with Happy and Tig and wasn’t running for the hills.      “Yeah, a guy from Scotland. It’s a bit of a stark contrast,” she elaborated. “This part of California definitely isn’t lush and green like Scotland.”      “Aye, well, I was a member of a charter in Belfast. A worthless piece of shite got me thrown out and since I knew some of the Redwood Originals, I decided to come here, get patched over,” he explained. He wasn’t quite ready to tell her about Fi and Jimmy O. She seemed cool, but there was no telling what she could or couldn’t handle yet.      “But across an ocean?” she wasn’t going to let it go.      “If I stayed in Ireland, my family could have been used against me,” he said.      He could almost see the gears in her head spinning. There were a lot of questions in there roiling just below the surface. She wanted to dig deeper, but she chose a different route.      “Is that why my parents moved to Iowa? Were they hiding from something, protecting me?”      Yeah, he liked (Y|N), alright. She coulda asked about his family, but she probably saw that he didn’t want to talk about it. She went straight to the point bothering her most. It was goddamned refreshing. “I didn’t know your da when he ran nomad. Yer ma was JT’s sister. She begged JT to let Buddy out, no strings. JT and the club eventually agreed to it and Buddy’s way of paying back was working the books for the club. He would come out when he was needed… for projects and whatnot.”      He took a swig of his whiskey and watched her gears spin some more.

     “You mean to tell me that MY dad was a member of SAMCRO?!”

[patternedwings]

Mobile Rules || Long Post

Location

Don’t assume your muse is always in the same location as Redstrike. Generally speaking, interactions will be handled through comm lines or Tumblr/the DataNet unless there is an in-character or out-of-character reason/agreement for Redstrike and your muse to meet somewhere. I’ll make exceptions for god-tier muses, and starters/prompts that require interaction between muses who are within the same physical space.

For reasons why you’re muse is not allowed to immediately start physical interactions see this post.

The ask and submission box are open.

Godmodding

Don’t godmod/powerplay. I acknowledge and understand that Redstrike isn’t all powerful and can’t win everything, but I don’t appreciate having my muse unfairly bulldozed without warning either. Speaking honestly too, I have very little experience in writing fights, and what experience I do have is very poor, so I prefer to avoid them if at all possible. If our muses do end up getting in a fight, you and I will likely need to communicate a lot about what’s going on so I can get a better idea of what’s being expected of me and what I need to do. If you don’t want to be bothered with discussions about the fight please let me know so we can collaborate on an agreed ending and handwave the thread’s conclusion.

Don’t start plots/threads that will greatly affect Redstrike with other people without consulting me first. I’m not saying you can’t create these plots or play them out, but that I want to be a part of the discussions as well because it’s not fair for you to make up a story involving my muse without telling me.

Multiverse, AUs, and Shipping

Multiverse

I’m selective, but I’m willing to play with all Transformers characters and continuities. Canon characters and original characters are equally welcome. I’m also willing to play with characters from non-Transformers series, but I may need help with understanding them/the show they’re from if I don’t know it very well.

All characters will be treated as though they’re from a completely different universe from Redstrike’s. Don’t assume your character is a part of his universe or assume him to be a part of your character’s. I’m already sharing his universe with a friend and will not be making any sudden changes without their permission and input.

I’m not exclusive with anybody, so I’ll role play with duplicates and treat them all as separate entities from each other. Redstrike will not mix any duplicates with each other and treat them all like they individuals they are.

It’s fine if you want to create a new verse so you can interact with Redstrike freely, but I won’t make a similar verse to be paired up with your’s unless I’m considering it to be an AU. Otherwise, Redstrike will remained fixed in one universe.

AUs

I’m always willing to play with AUs. AU threads will always be tagged to distinguish them from the main universe.

Shipping

I’m open to shipping all kinds of relationships (romance, friends, enemies, frenemies, ect.). I’m open to preestablished relationships with discussion.

Redstrike is polygamous so all romantic relationships will be happening at the same time, in the same universe. If and when new romantic relationships develop I’ll get a hold of my ship partners to let them know of the new development, and will have Redstrike get a hold of his partner(s) so they will know. It is okay if you/your character do not want Redstrike pursuing other romantic relationships. That is a perfectly valid desire and I will respect it. However, given that he is polygamous and not interested in being exclusive this will likely end the romantic relationship, so that all parties can be happy.

Greeting Posts and Text Patterns

Greeting Posts

I will not write a greeting post/thread for you unless your character really strikes my muse’s interest. You are more than welcome to write a greeting post/thread for me though if the interest strikes you. I will answer it.

Text Patterns

“This is speech.” Voice Claim: Peter Jessop. (Example 1 [The Exo voice]; Example 2 [The first one to speak/the Exo])

/:This is comm line speech.:\

//: This is text message.

This is regular stuff like actions between speech or text on a post.

[Actions may also be like this if the thread is script format.]

Thoughts will be written like general text but in italics and outside of quotation marks.

((This is mun talk.)) // - This is also mun talk when I am commenting on your post or making a long out of character post.

Replying and Messaging

I’ll reply to threads as soon as I can, but generally speaking I’m going to be slow with them. Between my job, my other hobbies, and my overall ability to tap into my muse I don’t have the time and energy to be online everyday, writing out replies all day long. Please have patience with me. If it seems like I’ve forgotten our thread though feel free to send me a massage about it. One reminder is all I’ll need though so please don’t give me multiple reminders about our thread.

Don’t tell me to stylize my posts or to write novella lengths if I’m not feeling it. If you want to stylize your posts and use extra prose with your writing that’s fine, but I don’t find it enjoyable so I won’t be doing it too.

Please do not message me in character through the Tumblr IM feature because I will be using to speak out of character.

Askbox Memes

If I reblog a meme that implies that your character is familiar with Redstrike then your character actually needs to be familiar with Redstrike. I can’t give a deep and detailed response if I have no history to work with, and I don’t enjoy making something out of nothing.

You’re welcome to make in-character and out-of-character comments on all my answered memes, even if you weren’t the person who sent the prompt. You’re welcome to turn in-character meme prompts and comments into thread starters.

I don’t enforce reblog karma on my blog.

Magic Anons and Anons In General

Magic Anons (M!As)

I accept magic anons (M!As). However,

I won’t activate a magic anon the moment I get it. I’ll keep the spell in my inbox until I have some plots planned out and an opening in my personal life to play out the magic.

I’ll alter spells as I need to and see fit (usually to extend or shorten time periods).

I won’t accept any spells that force Redstrike to be bonded to someone, start carrying a random sparkling, trigger overloads, or cause him to be in a heat spell.

Spells that force Redstrike to feel a specific emotion towards someone will be accepted so long as the other player (if another player must be involved in the spell) is okay with it.

Attempts to change his gender (ie: make him a femme instead of a mech) will not work because he does not work on the mech/femme gender binary. His universe has frame types; His current frame type is peregrine.

I’ll delete any spells that don’t follow these rules or that don’t strike my interest.

Anons In General

Anonymous messages will be treated as they are: anonymous messages. Anons that start to imply or show a physical presence will either be treated as a small, grey humanoid creatures or as a NPC mecha, depending on the location of Redstrike. (If he’s alone on Crossfire, anons will be treated like creatures; If he’s on Cybertron, anons will be treated like mecha.)

Please don’t metagame through anonymous asks (ie: sharing private information of another character to Redstrike or visa versa). It may be tempting to do this so plots can get going much faster, but I want stories happen in an organic fashion.

Miscellaneous

IC =/= OOC; In character things are not to be treated like out of character things. Redstrike can, does, and will say or do things that I, the mun (Mud), do not wholly agree with. If you imply or act like that Redstrike’s words and actions are a reflection of my personal character I will unfollow and block you.

Don’t interact with/follow me if you’re an anti of any kind. I don’t care what it is you’re against, whether it’s a ship, a genre, or a depiction of violence. Fiction isn’t reality and the notion that it is or that fiction will inspire people to do real life harm is annoying and dangerous. I don’t care to have discussions about this. I don’t care to walk on eggshells around other people because they refuse to mind their own business and let others enjoy dark fiction. I’ll also be blocking any antis I see to protect myself from harassment.

If you’re wondering about other things that are not discussed here or on my other pages, check out my RP things tag. If you still can’t find the answer you seek then please feel free to send me a message.