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bad268 · 8 months

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Frank Told Us (Colby Brock X Pregnant! Reader)

Fandom: RPF/Sam and Colby & Co

Requested: Yes by @eattothebeatt and anon. I hope y'all don't mind that I combined them, they were pretty similar. (Also, since I'm ahead on requests, I'm gonna post Wednesdays and Saturdays until it's cleared <3)

Warnings: slipping in snow (idk).

Pronouns: She/her

W.C. 1263

Summary: The Conjuring House is no joke, especially when a certain ghost (Frank) ruins a surprise.

As always, my requests are OPEN

MASTERLIST // HITLIST

~~(^Pinterest)

The Conjuring House was no joke, that was a fact that Y/n knew well. After going to the Conjuring House on three separate occasions with Sam and Colby and being witness to some crazy things, she didn’t need any convincing of that.

This time was one to top the charts. Ever since Sam and Colby heard about Satori and Cody, they knew that they wanted to meet them and get their expertise on camera. So Y/n decided to go with them. However, one thing happened about a week before the flight that may have changed the trajectory of the trip.

Y/n missed her period.

She took a test and met with her gynecologist, and they both came to the same conclusion. She was pregnant. She was not super far along, a little over a month, but she was not sure if she should go on the trip. After talking it over with her gynecologist, they decided she should be fine as long as she stepped away when it got too much and did not put herself in dangerous situations. She knew that if she had told Colby that they were expecting, he would abort the whole video, and she knew she did not want to be responsible for that

So they arrived at the Conjuring House. Sam and Colby in the front and Kat and Y/n in the back. Satori and Cody said they would meet them there, so they did not worry about getting a bigger car.

“Are you guys ready for this?” Sam asked enthusiastically as he pulled into the driveway.

“Are you ready to get another attachment?” Kat snapped back jokingly, causing Sam’s jaw to drop and the rest of the car to laugh.

“No need to come for my brother like that,” Colby defended, turning back to point a finger at Kat.

“You should definitely put this at the end of the video,” Y/n added, directing everyone’s attention to the camera that was recording.

“Anyway, what’s up guys! It’s Sam and Colby,” Colby started the intro.

“Today, well, this week, we are at the Conjuring House with Kat and Y/n!” Sam continued.

“These guys get 10 million subscribers, and we get dragged into this,” Y/n laughed gesturing to Kat as they climbed out of the car, so Sam and Colby could do their intro in peace. The two walked into the house and greeted Satori and Cody. The four made small talk until Sam and Colby came into the house.

“I see you made yourself comfortable without us,” Colby teased as he sat next to Y/n on the couch and laid his arm over her shoulder. “Do we know how we're going about tonight?”

“I think we’re just letting Satori and Cody do their thing and we’ll go with the flow,” Y/n explained as she leaned into Colby’s side. “What do you guys think? It is your video.”

“I think that’s fine,” Sam said, setting up the cameras. Kat started pulling out different gadgets and placing them around the room.

“We’re ready to start whenever you guys are,” Satori offered, moving to stand up with Cody. Colby stood up as well before he turned back and held his hand out jokingly for Y/n to stand up.

“Well, thank you, kind sir,” Y/n joked in a mock posh accent.

“You’re welcome, governess,” Colby joked back, causing the two to chuckle before turning serious again. “Ok, back to the task at hand-”

Hours later, Satori and Cody were still getting so much in response. It was nearing midnight at this point, and they were still nonstop. After the third hour, Y/n got a huge headache, and it did not prove to be a problem until the knocks started getting louder.

“Hey, I’m gonna go get some fresh air. My head hurts,” Y/n announced as she stood up and walked out the door, not waiting for a response. Kat immediately said she would follow Y/n and trailed behind her as they walked through the snow carefully toward the car.

“Are you okay? You’re really pale,” Kat asked as they leaned against the hood of the rental car.

“I have a huge headache, and honestly, I need to tell someone,” Y/n admitted and let out a sigh before saying, “I’m pregnant.”

“You’re kidding!” Kat exclaimed excitedly, reaching out to hold Y/n’s hands. “You’re serious? Oh my god, I’m so happy for you guys! Does Colby know?”

“If I told him, he wouldn’t have let me come,” Y/n laughed as Kat pulled her into a hug. “I’m so glad I finally told someone. I’ve been keeping that to myself for the last week.”

“You’re kidding!” Kat exclaimed again. She was too excited because when she jumped away from the car, she pulled Y/n with her and they both lost their footing. “Woah!”

“Ouch! Kat!" Y/n laughed as she landed on her back in the snow with Kat leaning over her. They were laughing like maniacs despite knowing that one or both of them could have been seriously injured. “What the hell? You’re crazy, get off me.”

Meanwhile, in the living room, Satori and Cody kept at it with Sam and Colby, teaching them along the way. The first person they connected with asked about Colby, so Satori and Cody took back over.

“Way to go, Colby,” Sam jokingly scolded.

“Shut up, Sam,” Colby joked back.

“You want to talk to Colby?” Satori asked as was met with a knock immediately. “Okay, what is your name?” She went through the alphabet and found the name they were spelling out. “Frank? Yes. Colby, do you know a Frank?”

“Not off the top of my head,” Colby answered, “Who are you to me?” Satori started the alphabet again and the knocks spelled out:

“Grandfather? No, Great-grandfather? Yes,” Satori interpreted. “What message do you have for Colby?” The knocks started back up and what it spelled caused a chill to run down everyone’s spines. “Protect? Protect who?...Y/n. Protect Y/n from what?”

They did not get an answer as they heard shouting from outside, causing Colby to bolt out the door immediately.

“Y/n?” He shouted, not caring that it was midnight. His ears were ringing, and his heart stopped when he saw Y/n laying in the snow. He could not breathe, and he could not register that the girls were laughing and not in danger. He slid down to be down by Y/n’s head as he held her hand. “Holy shit, are you okay? Do we need to go to the hospital?”

“All good, Colby,” she laughed, pushing Kat off her as she stood up. Y/n inspected the snow around her as she felt around her stomach, “I don’t see any blood and I don’t feel any pain, so I think we’re both good.”

“Yeah, you and Kat look fine to me,” Colby sighed as he took Y/n into his arms.

“No, not Kat, no offense,” Y/n retorted before looking up at Colby as she wrapped her arms around his neck. She whispered, “Me and the baby.”

“Baby? Whose baby? My baby? Our baby?” He asked so quickly Y/n could not keep up with him as he held her at arm’s length before cheering loudly when she nodded her head. He ran back to the house to tell Sam only to find Sam, Satori, and Cody standing at the doorway. “I’m gonna be a dad!”

“Yeah, Frank just told us.”

Part 2 ->

~~~~~

#colby brock x reader #colby brock #colby brock x y/n #colby brock x you #colby x you #colby x y/n #colby x reader #colby brock imagine #sam and colby #sam golbach #katrina stuart #pregnant reader #bad268 #ship268 #thing268

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torhues · 2 years

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osamu miya.

"what do you think is the right way to ask someone out?" osamu's sudden question draws out your attention from your english assignment.

you take a moment to think, and while he thinks you're sorting out the most appropriate answers to his question, you're lost looking the answer to just one question that's plaguing your mind : should you tell him, or not?

"uh, who is it for?" you settle with the conclusion that he's asking that question out of curiosity. after all, you both are at an age where romance gradually becomes an integral parts of almost everyone's life.

out of all the years that you've known osamu— which is for around seven years for now— there has been only one time when you've seen him pursuing someone, and that was your best friend in middle school; and like the good friend you were, you helped the two of them confess to each other. you would walk to school and back, watching them holding hands, make plans without you because they were dating and it was understandable. you didn't mind, not at all, for you weren't in love with him at that point.

looking back now, you wonder if things would've turned out different if you hadn't helped your friend, or if you had realised your feelings a bit earlier. back then, you found it amusing to watch two people in love act like idiots, not knowing it'd all come back to you with a much larger impact.

"someone i like," he replies in his classic monotonous voice, as if he couldn't care less about not telling you who he has a crush on. it's exactly how it was back in middle school. had it not been for your friend, you wouldn't have known she was the one osamu had been planning to ask out all along. "goes to the same university as us, might even be in your biochem class,"

and your mind traces over the image of every single person in your class, crossing out the names that don't seem to fit osamu's taste in romantic partners. it's not the first time you're doing this. in fact, you've gotten used to figuring out whether he would be interested in someone just by looking at them. it's something you've learnt as you got better at hiding your feelings.

you've known him long enough to know who he might date yet still, couldn't bring yourself to believe that you could possibly have a chance with him.

"well, i can't tell you if i don't know the person," something about you makes osamu believe that you're a cupid. you're good at reading people, welcoming, albeit not so good at reaching out to strangers, but you are likeable, more than likeable, actually.

he has seen you set people up, including himself, and excluding yourself. the reason why you're not interested in pursuing someone anymore is beyond his comprehension. you have your fair share of knowledge about relationships, have dated a couple of guys before giving up altogether. it's not like your relationships didn't work, but it always seemed as if you were better off without them.

even while dating, it looks like your eyes are looking for someone else while being in someone's arms.

he sighs, putting down his phone. "just tell me what you like, people aren't much different after all,"

"uh, well, i hate public confessions and people who confess through calls and texts," which stands true for most the people out there. public confessions are more of a show off and confessing through texts is just, not enough. "also, i like to stay at home or be at some cafe so like, arcades, amusement parks and places like those aren't up to my liking either,"

you notice the smile on his face, along with the dreamy eyes and make him look prettier than he already is. frankly, the idea of osamu doing everything you like to ask someone else out hurts more than it should. you're probably not the only persons with those likes and dislikes. you know you should be happy for him and the person he likes because in the end, osamu is everything you, or anyone, could ask for.

"what about flowers? lilacs?" he asks, getting back to his phone.

"what are you doing, congratulating someone on their graduation?" his lips instantly curve into a frown, and you know in his head, he's snickering about how he is not the best when it comes to picking flowers, and that you shouldn't make fun of him for this. "i'd say tulips, they're a better gifts for first dates and confessions,"

one day, back in first year of university, osamu asked you why you don't seek relationships anymore. thinking about it now, you never gave him an absolute answer.

on some days, the answer would be academics, other days, it would be sadness looming over your shoulders after watching your ex with someone else. sometimes, you would excuse it by saying it's a waste of time and when asked when you're drunk, you'd say it's because you already have someone in mind, someone who can't be yours, no matter how much you try.

on some days, you wonder if osamu ever thinks about all the answers, or excuses, you gave to his question. there are times when the worlds makes compels you to believe that osamu likes you back, but then you realise that if he did, he wouldn't have asked out others all this time. you did drop hints regarding your feelings for him, and he failed to catch on for he for too busy looking at everyone except you.

"i wonder why you don't date anymore," the question arises again, flooding all the memories back into your head.

"i did have someone i liked, but he likes someone else," and you realise you can't lie to him anymore. "so, i gave up," osamu finds it amusing how you say those words with a smile, and he finds it despairing knowing that now, you've simply learnt to live with pain while pretending to be okay.

he shoots you a comforting smile, "i hope that wouldn't be the case for me,"

"me too," and you smile back.

he gets off your bed, picking up his jacket while offering soft apologies for the state your bed is in because of him. sometimes, you feel like there should be a warning for everyone who dates him : caution, this man doesn't know how to keep the bed clean. there are nights when you go to sleep thinking about how you're probably the only one who can keep up with this habit of his, and then wake up realising that it wasn't a problem to anyone it now so, it wouldn't be in future either.

it's like oscillating between the possibility and impossibility of him and you, caressing your little heart with false hope.

"ah, what should i say while confessing?" he shoots another question, making you snicker in annoyance.

"c'mon 'samu, you're not asking someone out for the first time,"

"just tell me,"

and you allow yourself to get lost in thoughts again. for a brief second, you consider telling him to not confess. the reason? your feelings, but again, you and him aren't meant to be together in the first place. it's just like how the saying goes— cupids must not fall in love— and you did the forbidden, knowing it would hurt you ten folds more every time you tie his threads with someone that's not you.

"i don't know, just give the flowers and ask if they'd like to go out with you or something," he chimes a faint thank you before leaving your room, and then your apartment. this time, you don't walk up to the door to see him off, neither do you wish him good luck, and surprisingly, osamu doesn't seem to notice your minute absence either.

it's fine, you tell yourself, one of you has to start getting accustomed to the other's absence. while the process has already begun for you, you hope osamu gets used to it as well. you need him to stop reaching you out for relationship advices because you don't know how long you can compose yourself before shattering once again. you try to distract yourself with essays due next month or even further, reading chapters that haven't been taught in class, reading research papers; just anything that can keep your mind off osamu.

you don't want to think about him, or what he's doing. maybe, he's buying the flowers, making preparations or calling his crush and asking them to meet him at their favourite place. even better if his crush confessed while he has been preparing a proposal of his own, it would be cinematic. you don't want to think about him at all, but the more you try, the deeper he engraves inside your mind.

the evening rolls by with you still sitting at your study desk with a bunch of papers lying around a not one complete work. there are rain splatters on your windows and you hope the off-season showers haven't ruined his confession. you can't wish for the other person to like him back, so you just wish for his happiness; whatever makes him happy, even if it means pushing him away.

and when you manage to drag yourself to the kitchen to grab something to eat and make yourself feel better, the sound of your doorbell hits your ears. the rain hits harder, you muster up the energy to walk up to the door.

there's osamu standing with a love sick smile and slightly wet hair, along with rain splatters on his shirt, and the bouquet of tulips in his hand. "will you go out with me?"

#♡ hues'.#♡ handmade.#this is not angst trust me #haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #osamu x reader #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu fic #haikyuu drabbles #haikyuu headcanons #osamu fluff #osamu headcanons #osamu drabbles #osamu fic #osamu angst #haikyuu angst #miya osamu #haikyuu osamu

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idleoblivion · 2 months

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"The Dismal Story of Our Creation" Malleus Draconia x GN Reader

Spoilers for Book 7!

Synopsis: Malleus has put the island to sleep, but the dream he puts you in is an especially unique one.

Word Count: ~1200 A/N: Thank you to everyone who sent me happy birthday messages! I hope to finish a few more drafts soon to make up for my absence. I loved writing him as a yandere, it just fits him so well to me.

Warnings: Yandere Malleus, captivity? (trapped in a dream), forced kissing

Something wasn’t right.

He’d done it. He overblotted. Putting everyone to sleep, leaving them to their dreams. For their own good, to make them happy. That’s what he had said.

So why was this your dream? What had happened to you?

You remember catching a glimpse of the unconscious forms of your friends, sleeping under the power of his magic. You remember the fear that washed over you as you expected the same fate. And you remember the satisfied grin he wore as he faced you, and then everything went black.

Darkness surrounds you now. You are stranded in a void, an empty black space. No floor beneath your feet, no walls indicating you might be in some strange room. You hesitantly take a few steps forward, and then in another direction. Still nothing. You are walking through some kind of purgatory, left alone with nothing but an endless darkness and eerie silence.

Until you hear footsteps behind you.

You whip around to see him, uncomfortably close to you. Looming over you, with that same smile as before.

“What…what did you do? Where am I?” You question, trying to keep your voice steady.

Malleus’ smile still doesn’t falter as he answers you. “Our home, Child of Man.”

As he speaks, the space around you starts changing. You blink repeatedly as a room starts creating itself from the darkness, walls and furniture forming from the shadows before manifesting as real objects. Everything appears in the same gothic theme you’re familiar with from Diasomnia.

“What do you mean, ‘our home’?”

He tilts his head at you a bit, mirth still palpable in his expression. “I think it’s quite self-explanatory. This is where we will spend the rest of our lives together.” Your head is spinning as you process his words. “Malleus, what are you talking about? I don’t understand, you’re scaring me.”

He frowns immediately at that. He sighs quietly before speaking again. “My apologies, Child of Man. I suppose I’ve yet to explain myself properly to you. Please, fear not. I never would wish you any harm, you should know.”

“Child of Man,” He starts after a deep inhale, “I know this may feel sudden, but I must confess something to you.” He reaches for your hand, and you cautiously allow him to take it. “I…I love you. I care for you so dearly, my Child of Man. You’ve brought life to my life, brought me a kind of joy that I’ve always considered unobtainable for me. I’ve never known someone as kind, brave and sincere as you. I love you, from the bottom of my heart. So much that I don’t know what to do with the feelings you stir in me sometimes.” He grinned softly to himself. “You treat me like no one else does. You seek out my presence yourself, you look at me with fondness in place of fear. You’ve taken over my mind and heart, and I couldn’t do without you anymore.”

“So,” he continues, “I’ve created a place for us, and only us, my love. I’ve put much thought into it, and come to the conclusion that it would be difficult for us to be together in reality. It would be blasphemy for me to attempt to introduce a human as my partner in Briar Valley. As heir to the Draconia lineage and future king, such a thing would never be allowed.” His brow furrowed at the thought. “And on your end, the headmaster is searching for a way to send you back, to separate you from me. There are many obstacles to our love. This is the solution I’ve come up with.” His hand moves to cradle your cheek gently, staring deep into your eyes. It takes great effort for you to not tremble under the weight of his gaze. “There is nothing but us here. No Crowley, no other world to return to, no royal duties or expectations, nothing at all to disturb us. We will hide happily in here forever, where nobody can interfere with us.” You’re shaking now, fear coursing through your veins as you realize the gravity of your situation. You are trapped alone with him, in a space of his creation and control, completely at his mercy. And he’s seemingly decided you won’t be going anywhere.

“M-Malleus, please. I don’t…I don’t want this.” You meekly speak, your voice hardly above a whisper. You’re terrified of rejecting him, but equally afraid of what would happen if you accepted his advance. “I don’t want to be asleep forever. And what about everyone else, my friends-” “Do not speak of them.” His harsh tone cuts you off and makes you flinch. There’s a new darkness to his eyes that makes your legs want to buckle. You avert your eyes from his to avoid it.

“Look at me.” He commands. You don’t comply, too nervous to meet the anger in his expression. He grabs your face roughly and forces you to tilt your head up. “I said, look at me. Do not speak of them again. This place is for us, not them. Your life is meant to be spent with me, not them. Your place in this world is with me, not them. You will not mention them again. I will not allow any others but myself to occupy your thoughts. Do you understand me?”

Tears start welling up in your eyes as you nod slightly, dread heavy in your stomach as the weight of your circumstances only seems to keep increasing.

He stares down at your teary face, eyes wet and lips trembling. He still holds your face in his large hand. His eyes soften the longer he looks at you, and after what seems like an eternity he starts leaning in towards you. You don’t dare to close your eyes, scared of what he’d do if you avoided him again. He gets closer, and you hold back a fearful whimper as his lips softly press against yours. Your stomach turns as he holds the kiss, leaving you anxious and uncomfortable. He pulls back and meets your gaze once more.

“You’re…ethereal. Perfect, so perfect my love. I’ve wanted you since the moment I saw you. I’ve always wanted to claim you as my own.” He kisses you again, with more need and passion than the first. The tail of his overblot form comes to wrap around your waist and pull you into him, pressing your bodies together. His mouth is hot against yours as he kisses you with more and more fervor. His tongue slips past your lips and you let out a small groan despite yourself. He smiles against your lips before pulling away to press his forehead to yours. His demeanor had lost some of it’s intimidating aura as he looked at you completely lovestruck, strong hands caressing your back as his tail still held you in place.

“I’ll be all that you need, my love. I will be your entire reason for being, your entire purpose, as you are mine.” You shudder a bit in his hold, but if he notices, he pretends he doesn’t.

“This is my creation for us, dear. Our paradise. Doesn’t it make you happy?”

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst #twst x gn reader #twst x reader #disney twisted wonderland #disney twst #yandere twisted wonderland #yandere twst #malleus draconia #malleus x reader #twst malleus #malleus x yuu #malleus draconia x reader #yandere malleus draconia #yandere malleus x reader

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yuri-for-businesswomen · 2 months

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i have left

hey everyone this will probably be the last thing i post on this blog albeit im keeping it up for resources.

im eternally grateful for how this community has helped me through prostitution and everything, i have amazing mutuals and i have learned so much 💜

but it has become toxic. many of yall cant handle disagreement and default to being as condescending and obnoxious as possible. one of us calling out a post is not enough, we have to dog pile everyone with a slightly shitty opinion. some of yall have severely lost the plot if you ever had it in the first place. not everything is that serious, especially when it comes to online drama.

im sick of it. so many engage in the same bullshit we accuse online trans activists of. this is an echo chamber. so many just mindlessly parrot slogans and arguments. what im very sick of is seeing single tweets or posts by a nobody, usually anonymous, being spread as receipts and shit. you know how annoying it is when everything a self proclaimed terf somewhere on social media says is taken by trans activists at face value and representative of the community when theyre not even radical feminist, just transphobic? yeah. yet a lot of yall do the same by saving and sharing „receipts“ where some random person who claims theyre trans (or not even) says some fucked up or out of pocket shit. you will always find people like that online, from any politicial „camp“ or ideological alignment!

a lot of yall seem to think that debate is about winning and not like, having an exchange of arguments and let the audience come to their own conclusion

and i just dont hate trans people. in fact i feel kinship to any female or homosexual trans person, anyone except heterosexual males. many of yall dont even realise how male centered you are when you more or less equal the trans community to heterosexual men who have a fetish for humiliation and forced feminisation or whatever. who exist and are an issue and i do wish the trans community at large would distance themselves from those men, but its not all there is to it. yes i agree that we need to protect vulnerable young people, girls and especially lesbians and gay boys, from being pushed into transitioning, i think the age of consent should be put at 21 or something, but we have to acknowledge and consider that there are people who have already transitioned and will transition in the future and i just dont understand how you cant have any empathy for them. no matter what you think about transition, many trans people ARE vulnerable and marginalised. plus consider how many detransitioned women are in this community yet yall talk about trans people as mutilated and shit its gross. in the end we can only try to establish structures that keep people from self harming, but an adult of sound mind has the right to do so anyways, including plastic surgery and trans surgeries. and i want to keep my arms open to them; but a lot of rhetoric around it spread on here will only alienate them further.

right now im saving all my essays in notes so its out of my mind. i have missed the community a lot so maybe i will return at some point but i have also been feeling better since i stopped being on radblr. i miss the rare valuable input and thoughts by other women but overall i have felt unaligned with how things have been handled on here. it has been mostly negative instead of constructive and pragmatic. ive had the impression some of yall enjoy the „being in the in-group“ community aspect more than actually being here for feminist exchange. lack of nuance, lack of empathy, lack of reason. it pains me but i have more and more come to understand why people just block us without engaging on general suspicion because ive also come to be annoyed with some of yall engaging with posts - and im on „your side“.

anyways im doing okay, im going to drug counselling regularly now and am trying to establish a stable life for those of you who inquired, and i hope anyone reading this is self reflected enough to know whether this applies to her or not. bye

#and yeah i may have been guilty of some of this in the past and i dont like that i was swept up in this and distancing myself now

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auspicioustidings · 3 months

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Ae Fond Kiss - Part 6

Despondency

Summary: Everything blows up. Words: 1.6k TWs: reference to miscarriage

Parts: 1 2 3 4 5 6

When you first woke up you were unaware that yesterday your world had just stopped. You wondered why you were cold when usually your husband stayed in bed with you until you woke up and him holding you always made things a perfect temperature.

And then it all came back and you shot out of bed like a bullet. You needed to get to Joe. This was never how you wanted him to find out who his father was, and you felt like the worst mother on the planet for letting him be sent away after such a traumatic revelation. You needed to apologise and see how he was doing, sit down and talk with him before anything else.

Fuck you felt old and worn beyond your years. But you fought the despondency, your kid needed you. You loved Simon and you loved Johnny, but they would always come second to your son and you were so sure they would not have it any other way.

The moment you stumbled out of the bedroom you heard the arguing.

“She’s my fucking wife! Yer a shite best friend LT, how could ye?”

You probably should have gotten some context before inserting yourself in the conversation but you were hardly thinking before you barrelled down the stairs and into the heart of it. They needed to calm down. Everyone needed to be thinking first and foremost of the brilliant little boy caught in the middle.

“I- we never would have if we knew you were alive Johnny! I wouldn't betray you like that and neither would he! He was your best friend, please, you know he wouldn't hurt someone he loves like that.”

“Aye, we naw counting Las Almas then?”

Johnny knew it was cruel, but he had become a cruel man in Russia. He had to be. He had used so many cruel truths over the past decade to prove himself. But you were not the acceptable collateral he had just made of you to hurt Simon. Simon may not have loved you yet back when he had betrayed you, but the betrayal stood all the same.

He looked like the Ghost he called himself, pale and sickly. So he hadn't told you then. He had married you without ever telling you how his hands had pushed at your husbands shoulders to get him to present properly so he could take him deeper. How his cock had spilled filthy promises inside of him as his tongue dripped with the honey of confession. If I had known I would have scared her off at the start. If I had known what it'd feel like to watch you fall in love with someone else.

“No, fuck no princess that is not what he's talking about. I promise you that's not what he means.”

Johnny looked at you and saw the horror on your face. Not just horror though. Guilt. That was definitely guilt.

“What is it ye think I mean exactly?” he growled, starting to lose himself to the anger of the moment.

“I- I-” you stuttered out, clearly in a panic.

He came to the wrong conclusion.

“It was Simon I sent tae tell ye I was hurt… ye didn't get back to base until the day after” he said, almost startled at the realisation of what he thought he had uncovered.

“Jesus fuck! I was in the med bay and ye needed someone tae get ye through was that it? A moment of weakness? Didnae even think tae tell me even when I asked ye tae marry me or when ye got pregnant with our son?!”

Somewhere in the depths of his mind he knew that they were the words he had been screaming at himself for over a decade. The words he tried to reassure himself with even when they weren't true. Simon had never been a moment of weakness. Looks like he hadn't been for you either. That’s what made him so angry, that he couldn’t even blame you.

The Simon he knew would have become Ghost on him by now. He’d be scruffed by the neck and growled at to calm down. But this was not quite the Simon he knew. Instead of paying any mind to him, he was desperately holding your face with complete tenderness, trying to block Johnny out. You looked… well now that Johnny was trying to figure out what the fuck was happening, you looked ruined.

Surely he must be right then? What else could have happened on a night where Simon stayed over. Fuck he was a hypocrite. He knew it and it made him so goddamn mad at himself. Typical John MacTavish, hurting everyone around him. He choked back panic and got out of there fast before his anger could turn back on himself in front of two of the people he loved most in the world.

–

Simon couldn’t worry about Johnny right at that moment. His priority was you because he knew exactly what you had taken from that outburst. Fuck. You thought Johnny was angry at you over the miscarriage.

“Hey it’s ok, breathe for me.”

“I- he- it was all my fault. I should have done something differently. I should’ve known earlier so I wasn’t drinking and was eating right.”

He couldn’t do it. He had thought about it, letting you believe that’s what had made Johnny mad.

“He thinks we slept together that night.”

He saw the confusion. Of course you’d be confused because why would Johnny ever think that? Only what you didn’t know was that he already knew he was capable of fucking people he shouldn’t be. He thought about saving himself. He had no guarantee he would ever get to hold you again if you knew what he had done, how selfish he had been. Johnny had shown him that ring and he had lost it. Changed nothing that he was stupidly in love with the idiot, he wasn’t his to love. Maybe you weren’t either.

“I fucked him in Las Almas” he said, blunt and clear.

You blinked at him, shocked still. It took a moment to even figure out what those words meant because surely not. There was no way that while you were at home going through the most traumatic period of your life alone that your husband was sleeping with his best friend. There was no way that said best friend was then the one to comfort you about it with the taste of your husband still on his tongue.

And then Johnny had… that motherfucker had come back from the dead and acted like you were the one in the wrong for falling in love after he faked his own death? He hadn’t even asked about his son. His son who had his eyes and his laugh and his temper. No, he had swanned in like he hadn’t broken your heart and acted like you had no right to move on when he had cheated and lied.

Maybe you should have been angry at Simon and you were sure that would come later, but right now you were storming after the fucking idiot trying to run away from his problems without even responding to your husband (second husband perhaps, you wondered vaguely if you were now breaking the law, not that it mattered when you were about to murder the first one).

“John MacTavish you get your arse back here!”

Johnny’s anger sparked against your tone and he turned himself right around. You wanted a fight? Oh he was ready for a fight. If he was honest with himself hearing you sound so angry was a relief after seeing the look on your face before.

“Right then, let’s dae this!”

You turned the corner in a fury. He was taken aback. He had seen you mad, had yelling matches with you, but this was something altogether different. It scared the shit out of him.

“Sure let’s. While you were busy sleeping with your superior officer I was losing our first baby all by myself. You then sent that superior officer to tell me you were hurt and I wanted to die. He stayed with me because I wasn’t in any state to be alone, but unlike you I was fully sincere when I told you I loved you so I didn’t do anything with him!”

Johnny was frozen in place as was Simon who had just come around the corner to join them.

“I was so ashamed that I had lost our baby that I never told you any of it because I couldn’t stand you hating me. And then Joey came and I loved the family we had built so much. He’s a great kid by the way, not that you’ve bothered to ask. And you left me alone with him when I didn’t know what I was doing. You made that choice. I didn’t think I was going to survive losing you. At one point I was so sure I would give him up because he deserved so much more than me. But I survived it all and I raised him to be kind and brave and honest because those were all the things that made me love his father. They were all the things his step-dad was too. But the two of you lied the whole time.”

You were crying you knew, so angry and hurt that everything was spilling over.

“Get out. Both of you.”

“Princess…”

“Bonnie…”

“Get the fuck out!”

You didn’t look at them as they left. You didn’t have it figured out yet, but you had survived worse than this and you would continue to survive. Now you just had to get your head back on straight and go get the one person in this situation who had done nothing to cause it and deserved every answer that he wanted. If you had to live the rest of your life with an irreparably broken heart then so be it, you weren’t the one that mattered here.

#mhairiwrites #to be clear I hate this chapter and I think it is badly written #but I wanna get to the bits I do want to write so what the fuck ever

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forgeofthenine · 8 months

Note

This isn’t even what I wanted to write for Rolan but the nonnie yesterday who sent in that heart breaking ask about if you died fed my plot bunnies so this took over my brain until it was done lol.

For my own mental health while writing this, Cal and Lia have been rescued at this point. I don’t think even Karlach could stop a Rolan who thinks he really has lost everyone. -🪻

~~~~~~~

You’d died before. Most adventures had. The first time, most people tend to understandably panic. It’s not a small thing to wrap your head around, that you’d been here and then not for a moment before you were brought back. One scroll (or one spell from your cleric if you have the diamonds to spend.) and you’re back good as new if not a little worse for wear. Eventually, after it happens enough, you start to get used to it. The window of time for a revivification is so small that death never really has the time to settle in your bones, you don’t feel its cold grip seeping into your soul. You start to get reckless, after all, you’ve always been able to come right back should you fall.

But not this time.

Rolan is at the Last Light, sitting at one of the tables near the entrance with a drink in hand watching Cal and Lia argue animatedly over some ridiculous thing or another. He’d thought about stopping them for the sake of preventing a headache later from their shouting but quickly put that thought out of mind when he realized their nonsense was more a show for the children than anything else. So he bit his tongue and stifled a smile, lest the children realize he can be anything more than a grump.

His seat also gives him the best view of the waystone by the bridge. You didn’t always have time to stop by the Inn and chat with him on your way to your nearby camp but if he could at least see you return safely then his heart could rest easy until you spoke next. It was late in the day already, so you and your group should be returning any moment

As if the gods heard him, at that moment the waypoint flared to life and brought your party back. Two, Gale and Karlach split off immediately towards the inn, while Astarion ran at full speed to your camp carrying something in his arms. He looked around for you and felt the dread sink into his chest when you were nowhere to be found and realization began to dawn. That hadn’t been something Astarion was carrying, it was someone.

Gale and Karlach reach him just as he reaches that horrifying conclusion and begins to rise. Each of them putting a hand somewhere on his person, whether to ground him or restrain him he wasn’t sure. The inn begins to quiet at that, everyone around them taking in their drawn and somber expressions as they look at him. Karlach speaks first, softly as though she’s trying to keep him from falling apart. Though by the look on her face she might also be trying to prevent herself from going to pieces. “It’s going to be okay, there’s someone at our camp who can help. But right now the best thing you can do is to stay here, okay?”

Almost immediately, that cold dread that’s filling him is replaced with a white hot rage. How dare they try to hold him back when they’re partially to blame for what happened. When they’re the ones who didn’t do enough to prevent this from happening. Dimly, he recognizes that not a small amount of this anger is misplaced, after all, these same people he was furious with now had at least been there. They’d tried to stop what happened from happening. They’d had to watch as you fell. All the while, he’d been here, warm and comfortable, drinking and laughing like a fool.

And just like that the warmth of his anger leaves him again and he’s once again overtaken by cold fear. He doesn’t even realize he’s sat down again, or that nearly everyone in the inn is looking at their group with a touch of that same fear. You were supposed to be invincible, this great irritating hero that somehow manages to put off the epic deeds you set yourself to. You weren’t supposed to fall.

Karlach is still sitting with him, Gale has gone over to Jaheira to fill her on what happened. He sees her face harden and then she gives a short nod. She commands the Harpers to gather and she gives orders to increase patrols on certain areas. He must have made a face because Karlach’s soft voice breaks through the fog he’s in again to explain, “We ran into needle-blights, three separate groups. Nasty fuckers if you haven’t had the pleasure. A pain to kill, since they’re tough as nails and the damn things explode when they do finally die. We were all a bit too close when the last few went down after Gale’s fireball but…”. He doesn’t need her to finish, he can almost picture what happened. You were no doubt right in the middle of everything and got caught up in the chain reaction. You probably told them to do it too, you and your stupid self sacrificing ways. By the time anyone was able to get near, it would have been far too late.

Karlach and Gale both look abruptly in the same direction, before they walk off, Karlach pulling him with her as she strode away. “Wha-“ he starts to stammer. “It’s all okay now, Withers worked his magic.” Karlach says, a bit less tense and with far less heaviness in her eyes. Before he can ask another question, namely “Who is Withers??”, they’ve activated the waypoint and he’s in your camp with them.

Shadowheart and Halsin are beside you just outside your tent and are working to try and ease the ache of a proper resurrection as best they can. You look up and see him there and try and give a smile but what you manage to give him is small and shaky and makes you look damn near to tears. Your hands are shaking in your lap where they rest and he runs over and drops to sit as out of the way as he can while still being beside you. His hands reach out and stop as if he’s not sure if you’re stable enough for contact yet. The two healers finish what they can and leave, giving you both some kind of privacy. Really the whole camp can’t bear to take their eyes off you for a moment, in case you fall again, in case the magic doesn’t hold and you slip away.

You look at Rolan and your lip trembles and that’s all it takes for him to wrap you in his arms as tight as he can and you sob. You cry like a child experiencing true fear for the first time and he holds you. He rocks you back and forth and holds you together as you fall apart. And if he’s crying too who has the nerve to say anything. He presses his lips to your temple and holds you tighter. He shifts you both inside your tent as your sobbing slows and sits so he’s leaning against something, and just holds you as you calm. When you fall asleep in his arms, he repositions you both, pausing before he lays down to remove his boots and outer robes with all its irritating bits. He lays down beside you in just his breeches and shirt and pulls you back into him to sleep. He doesn’t know what dreams or nightmares one has after dying, but he can’t imagine they’ll be pleasant.

Because whatever else comes, at least for right now, he will be there at your side to face it.

Flower anon, have I told you recently how much I love you?

This makes me feel SO MANY FEELINGS-

It doesn't help that you somehow managed to pick the exact team my original Tav ran with for almost the entire game/final battle. I just want to kiss Rolan until he feels better and keep him in my pocket so he never feels bad again. This was glorious as always and I love getting your fics in my inbox ♥️

#bri rambles #bri answers #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #baldurs gate 3 x reader #bg3 x reader #baldurs gate 3 rolan #bg3 rolan #rolan x reader #flower anon

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bbyseok · 2 years

Text

meadow afterglow

pairing: bakugou katsuki x reader

cw: fluff everyone !! pro hero bakugou, gender neutral reader, reader is a florist and owns a flower shop, reader loves flowers/plants/nature, swearing ofc, brief violence (attempted assault on reader from some strangers), awkward katsuki hours incoming- he’s super whipped but helpless, i switch povs from bakugou to reader often, tiny bit of angst.. some misunderstanding—both bakugou and reader are idiots that can’t communicate

wc: 5.2k words

analysis: bakugou fucking hates flowers—they’re too fragrant, too cliché, too romantic. and yet, he finds himself always coming back to the same flower shop once his shift ends.

———

bakugou katsuki doesn’t like flowers. hates them, despises them—loathes them even! flowers just aren’t his thing.

when they came along with prizes (where he won first place of course), he’d always snort and throw them away in some trashcan once he could.

when kids back in his middle and high school days were brave enough to make a move on him, he’d send a spark from his palm and ultimately burn their flowers (and hopes) away.

he does the exact same thing to this day with his fans if they were perhaps lucky enough to encounter him during his patrols. (it looks bad when the press covers it obviously and that’s only one problem his pr team deals with.)

so yeah, in conclusion: bakugou isn’t particularly fond of flowers. it’s one of his many supposedly unpleasant traits—not that he really cares. now, he’s changed in these past years, truly, but he’s still maintained some of the roughness of his personality.

‘cause when you think of pro hero dynamight, number two on the hero charts (interchangeably with number one pro hero deku), you don’t think of flowers.

but… here he is. it’s just around thirty minutes past six in the evening, the ropes of dusk in the sky evident as the city prepares for nightlife. his shift had ended a while ago, but everyday, on the way home, he makes sure to stop by a small shop. a flower shop of all places. and bakugou katsuki hates flo- yeah, you get the point.

he doesn’t even know why he hesitates going entering the shop—he’s pretty damn sure you can spot him from outside. his visits are expected. the sound of the dainty bell ringing reaches his ears as he walks in.

“back so soon, dynamight?”

he grunts and turns his head away, sharply avoiding your gaze so you miss the squinting of his red eyes. you’re behind the counter as usual, fixing the arrangement of some daisies in their pots.

his cheeks burn but he’s lingering by the entrance, feigning his attention on the shelves decked with plants so you don’t see any blush. “yeah, yeah.. jus’ give me some damn flowers already,” he demands gruffly.

the sound of you briefly laughing has his head whipping back to you almost instantly. he catches the sight of you lightly shaking your head in amusement.

“anything like usual then, dynamight?”

fuck, he can’t help but wonder what his actual name would sound like off your tongue. it’s always been dynamight this, dynamight that—and while he certainly doesn’t mind, he just can’t help but wonder. when you tilt your head at him, he realizes he had been staring. he clears his throat. “yeah, whatever.”

finally, he walks toward the counter, moving around the small display tables topped with a pretty arrangement of succulents as you beam at him.

“alrighty then!” you clasp your head together, nodding for a bit. “i hope you don’t mind tulips then. we got a fresh new batch so they should just do fine!”

he nods in acknowledgement. “yeah, that’s fine f’me,” he huffs. and as you send him another smile and you dismiss yourself to the back to fetch said tulips, he can’t help but think about your first meeting.

it had been a week or two ago. a usual day of kicking ass was over and he was just on the way home until longtime friend kirishima eijiro called in a favor—he had practically begged bakugou to grab him some flowers for his date with mina since he was running late.

begrudgingly, katsuki had agreed, insisting only because the redhead was being so damn annoying. and so he pulled in to the first flower shop he saw—yours. he had stormed in and just demanded for a bouquet and the rest was history.

he found himself coming back even though he didn’t even need fucking flowers. (at first, he tells himself it’s because he’s got nothing better to do. and then he convinces himself it’s just to ensure the safety of another civilian, since you close nearing nighttime and walk home. and then he can’t lie to himself anymore that he finds you a tad bit.. cute.)

when you return, he breaks out of his reminiscing and looks back to you, blinking expectantly. “here you go!” you chirp, presenting the tucked tulips in some wrapper.

he’s grabbing his wallet from his pocket with a huff. “right.” he can feel your gaze on him patiently and he almost fumbles with his hands. (how embarrassing—he’s done this so many times too.)

and when you exchange the amount of money for the flowers, the briefest of touches from your hands makes him stutter in his movements just subtly. once the flowers are with him, he can smell its scent and he wants to sneeze.

he brushes it off and raises a brow at you. he wants to say something, maybe tell you how endearing it is to see how your name tag is lopsided on your shirt or how your wrinkled work apron has some clear stains of dirt from the flower pots on it. but instead, he says- “go home, dumbass.”

he knows you’re used to his rather blunt comments and words, but he swears he can feel the tips of his ears burn with a scorch as you snort and giggle in amusement. “i could tell you the same thing, dynamight,” you say back.

the flowers shift in his hold and he eyes the counter for two seconds to regain himself as he clears his throat and scoffs. “i meant- it gets dark faster nowadays, ‘kay? go home.”

you salute him playfully. “of course. you know i don’t close up the shop until you leave. you’re my last customer, dynamight.” (he knows.) “drive safe!”

“mhm.” he grunts and decides to take his leave before he makes a fool of himself. you wave him goodbye enthusiastically as he exits your shop and gets back into his car.

and when he returns to his apartment, he places his tulips with the rest of the flowers safely.

•───────•°•❀•°•───────•

the morning is just creeping into the starting hours of noon—it gets a bit busier around this time with people in the city. peak business hour because sometimes, there’s always that one person who’s looking for some flowers or the perfect plant.

but right now, your shop is empty. the wafting scent of roses newly perched on the side counter fills the air but you don’t mind it as you sweep some fallen leaves from the floor.

you had turned on the small tv hooked up in the corner of the ceiling for some background noise, humming to yourself to pass time, but its current broadcast catches your attention.

“pro hero dynamight is on the scene of the ongoing shionosu bank robbery with the help of some sidekicks and-”

you abandon your sweeping to watch the small, short-lived clips of the robbery the news station has to offer, but seeing the familiar red-eyed blonde on screen has you feeling all fluttery.

you fingers tighten around the broomstick and you shake your head to yourself. you had somewhat gotten attached to the explosive hero throughout his daily visits—his honest and brash presentation may be off putting to others but you don’t mind. he’s like a literal explosion in your little life. you like to think that your plants enjoy his company.

besides, it’s sort of cute knowing that such an aggressive man had the time to stop by your shop nearly every single day to buy some flowers. and then you shake your head again—he was buying flowers, most likely for someone he was seeing.

you can still remember your first meeting with him like it was yesterday. man had strutted into your shop like he owned it and ordered you to give him some flowers. something along the lines of “oi! you still open? get me some shit for a date or something!” and that’s how it happened.

you wouldn’t change whatever this.. relationship you had with the pro hero for the world but it did hurt a little, knowing he was coming to your shop for your flowers only to give them to someone else. why else did he buy them?

the sound of his voice from the tv has you perking up and you’re quite embarrassed of yourself by the the effect he has on you, even on a damn screen.

“hah? just some fuckin’ d-list criminals who chose the wrong day to rob a bank,” he barks at the reporter, “you really think i couldn’t handle those shits?” of course, his words are poorly censored and you can’t help but laugh.

yeah, you’re okay with what you have. you’re happy that you can somewhat see another side of dynamight through your little exchanges.

the bell ringing then diverts your attention away from the tv and you politely greet an elderly lady walking in. you place aside the broom and head back behind the counter, content with knowing that you’ll see him later today.

•───────•°•❀•°•───────•

bakugou comes in during his usual time, casual clothes only slightly rumpled since he had been in a hurry to make sure to make it before you closed up the shop.

and there you are as always, behind the counter with a sweet smile. “good evening, dynamight!”

he sighs quietly, taking in the calm and scenery of your shop. it’s a welcomed contrast after the hectic events of today—annoying criminals thinking they could take him down and even more annoying reporters with nosy questions.

“hey.” he grunts, then asks curiously, “how was your day?” he decides to ignore how pleasant surprise flicks over your face by roaming through the shelves on the side.

“it was pretty good,” you hum in reply. there’s a pause and then you add, “i saw you on tv today. a robbery, huh?”

the realization that you saw him in action on screen makes his cheeks heat up for some reason but he plays it cool, peering at you from behind one of the shelves. “oh, yeah,” he chuffs, “impressed?”

you giggle to yourself, crossing your arms as you observe him. “impressed by how they somehow managed to censor you, that’s for sure.”

katsuki winces only subtly and rolls his eyes as he comes out from behind the shelving to approach the counter. “yeah, yeah. pretty sure my pr team is gonna try ‘n whoop my ass again for that.” he barks out a rough laugh. “as if they could.”

you tilt your head back as you laugh with him, and fuck, he thinks he can watch you laugh all day. it’s music to his ears. “right,” you snort, “they can try, huh?”

he straightens his shirt somewhat, noticing the obvious wrinkles on them. “oh, yeah. you watch me the whole time?” he’s teasing.

“you wish,” you banter back, now uncrossing your arms to drum your fingers on the table absentmindedly. “this woman came in for some flowers. she was so kind- i gave her some delphiniums!”

he tilts his head, brows furrowing. “delphi-what now?” he huffs, leaning against the counter as he watches you brighten up. (damn, are you cute. but he’s not gonna say that out loud.)

“delphiniums are pretty.” you sigh and then start to ramble, “i gave her some royal larkspurs. pretty easy to take care of at the start! they usually symbolize dignity and grace, amongst some other things like sincerity, dedication- oh, i’m talking too much, aren’t i?” you rub the back of your neck sheepishly. “you’re just here for some flowers, sorry. uh, just anything like usual?”

bakugou blinks and chuckles softly. “nah, don’ worry. like hearing you talk.” shit, did he really say that? he straightens his posture and clears his throat, trying to act all nonchalant. “and uh, actually- i’ll take the larkspurs or whatever.”

you gaze is wide before you nod with a bright smile. “larkspurs it is.”

later that night, he adds those beautiful arching flowers of blue with his growing collection, another reminder of you.

•───────•°•❀•°•───────•

god, how bakugou hates commission meetings with a passion. what he hates even more is waiting for them to actually start. ‘cause that means he actually has to socialize with his fellow colleagues.

like fucking deku here.

most of the heroes are lingering around the long table, and here’s his childhood friend, rambling on with the familiar faces of half ‘n half bastard and round cheeks, and they’re entirely invested with his current dilemma. “i just don’t know what to get her! i’m overthinking this, right? just a simple gift or some flowers could do, right?”

ochako pats midoriya’s shoulder reassuringly, saying, “you shouldn’t worry about it too much, deku. i’m sure your mom would love anything you get her!”

deku shakes his head as he continues mumbling in thought. even after all these years, the nerd never lost some of his annoying traits, much to bakugou’s irritation. old habits die hard, he supposes. (however, when you ramble, he finds that he doesn’t want you to stop.)

some of the others are joining in on the conversation to pass time—there’s fucking both dunce face and soy sauce face and he’s pretty sure he’s one second away from blowing the shit out of all of ‘em. how the hell did he tolerate them in high school?

before icyhot can open his mouth and surely say something idiotic, bakugou groans and turns in his chair to face them, dragging a hand over his face. “oh, for the love of- can you shut your trap already? jus’ get her some larkspurs or some shit.”

fuckin’ nerd looks at him all curious and interested, and he’s got the attention of the others now as well. “larkspurs, kacchan?” deku questions.

“yeah,” he huffs, turning his gaze away. he recites their meaning he had learned from you instinctively, crossing his arms and kicking his feet up onto the table.

denki then speaks up, “woah, kacchan. since when were you a flower expert?” the electric hero grins and leans forward and the others are obviously interested too.

“fuck off!” katsuki snaps roughly, “i ain’t no expert on some damn flowers. hate those fuckin’ things.”

he grumbles when the others laugh and continue to tease him whilst deku thanks him profusely. yeah—he’s still a damn nerd.

•───────•°•❀•°•───────•

it’s another day of business. still midday, with the sun taking its place in the high in the sky. the afternoons aren’t as hot anymore, and you know you should start to move some of the display plants outside back inside but you’ll get to that later.

a lovely couple had left earlier with their desired flowers for their upcoming wedding and you had happily aided them. once they had left, you decided to take a small break, slouching on the counter.

you can’t help but let your thoughts drift back to a certain blonde. judging how he really didn’t care what flowers he got—other than the time he had asked for the larkspurs—you guessed his partner really didn’t mind the type of flowers they received either.

and as if your thoughts had summoned him, the bell rings and the door opens to reveal the man plaguing your mind, fully decked out in his hero costume.

“d-dynamight?” you yelp in surprise, immediately fixing your posture as you stare at him. he only comes at the end of the day, after his work is over and yours is nearly done—what the hell is he doing here? in the afternoon?

“ya busy?” bakugou grunts, making his way in without any further words.

he looks so out of place here—brandished armor and combat duty boots sounding heavy on the floor. you’re pretty sure he almost knocked over the shelves with how big his gauntlets are. he looks made for battle but here he is, standing expectantly, surrounded by dainty flowers and plants.

“um- um, no?” you then shake your head. “what’re you doing here? not that i mind! it’s just.. you’ve never come in the middle of the day before! what if someone sees you?”

he makes sure his grenadier bracers don’t actually knock down your hard work of arrangements, looking to you. “s’why i’m gonna be quick, idiot. can’t come later tonight so ‘m here now.”

“o-oh! of course.” you rush around the counter to pick something simple to offer to him, since he doesn’t seem to care again on what he’ll receive. you’re aware of his eyes following you as you grab some false indigos for a bundle.

“stay safe out there, dynamight,” you bid him, holding out the flowers for him to take. “i’ll see you some other time then?” you hate how hopeful you sound.

his red irises linger on you for a couple of seconds before he nods and pays up. “yeah, you will. you stay safe, idiot.“

his words make you feel warm—with the false indigos now with him, you simply smile. you won’t tell him that they symbolize protection; maybe he can learn that another day.

(later on, you see a media outlet that reads PRO HERO DYNAMIGHT SEEN WITH FLOWERS… HAS HE FOUND A PARTNER? and you hate how the title makes your stomach churn with jealousy—but seeing your flowers tucked delicately in his arms is worth it.)

•───────•°•❀•°•───────•

bakugou actually doesn’t get to see you for a couple of days. there had been a change in his schedule and he had been assigned for some overnight shifts along with some other heroes in another district due to the rise of criminal activity there.

but he’s back now, thankfully, and he’s antsy to see you after all this time. (mind you, it’s only been three or four days. smitten, he is, for the attractive florist that supplies him with flowers even though he claims he hates them. on a side note, he hopes his assistant had taken good care of the false indigos he had placed in his office.)

so as he drives down the familiar street, katsuki can’t help but wonder if you still wait for him so you can close the shop. it has been a while since his last appearance that one early afternoon, so even though he wouldn’t be surprised that you don’t, he couldn’t lie and say that he wouldn’t be a bit disappointed.

but as he pulls in into the parking lot, he’s furious.

you had just closed the shop, not even a few feet away from the door as a gang of looming strangers crowd in towards you, all hunched and shady as you match their stares warily.

katsuki isn’t sure he’s moved faster than he has in his life—he’s scrambling out of the car to help you when you manage to land a sucker punch square into one of the asshole’s jaws. with your flank exposed, another one lunges for you and you scream.

“you fucker!” he snarls and he reaches you in record time, the one you had already knocked to the side being met with an accurately aimed kick to the gut from his boot before he sends an explosion that has the remaining three flying.

when bakugou sees that none of them are making an effort to get up, he slips out of his offensive stance and immediately turns to you in concern, eyes roaming for any injuries. “are you hurt? did they touch you?” he demands, brows furrowed. “i’m-”

he falters when you simply stare at him in awe. the silence between you two is deafening and he doesn’t know how to interpret it. he starts, worried, “hey, are you-”

you arms wrapping him around has him inhaling sharply. his arms linger, unsure of what to do but he accepts your embrace delicately. “thank you, dynamight,” you murmur after a moment, still holding him.

he breathes softly, and he’s all quiet when he speaks again. “..it’s bakugou to you,” he tells you gruffly, “got it?”

his words have caught you by surprise—he knows it by the way your eyes widen when you pull back to look at him. he meets your stare readily.

“thank you, bakugou,” you say gently, and his gaze softens. (hearing his name roll off your tongue is something he can get used to, he decides.)

he then chuckles, all fond. “remind me not to get you mad. that punch looked nasty.”

you laugh genuinely, and katsuki can’t help but think about how much he missed hearing it.

•───────•°•❀•°•───────•

bakugou drives you home every night from then on.

you had no problem before, as your apartment building isn’t that far off, perhaps a fifteen minute walk, pushing ten if you jogged a little, and that was something you could manage. until the incident a couple weeks ago.

you definitely feel safer with him escorting you, even when you did protest that he didn’t have to waste his time driving to your shop, waiting for you to close and then dropping you off at your apartment—but he insisted. like, almost put you in a headlock if your dumbass didn’t listen insisted. (he still buys flowers every time too.)

and as giddy as it made you to spend more time with the pro hero, the reminder that he was supposedly taken was enough for you to know your limits. he’s simply doing his job—protecting people, s’all.

but in moments like this, you think you can selfishly enjoy yourself.

he’s blasting his music—some sort of punk rock that you can’t deny is pretty catchy—with his newly acquired lilacs resting on the center console for him to take home. it’s a bit silly, hearing such vulgar lyrics in the background as the petals of the magenta flowers shake slightly.

“you’ll enjoy your new home with bakugou, won’t you?” you coo at the plant, brushing your fingers over it tenderly. “he’ll take good care of you, i’m sure.”

bakugou’s got one hand on the wheel and he casts you an amused glance. as the car approaches a red light, he turns down the music and snorts. “are you seriously talking to the fuckin’ flowers?”

you lightly glare at him, a smile quirking up on the corners of your lips. “it helps them grow when you talk to ‘em nicely!”

“oh, yeah?” he raises a brow, snorting again—but he’s got an amused smirk on his face now as he focuses back on driving. “i’ll keep that in mind then, idiot.”

you sneak subtle side glances at him the rest of the ride, admiring his beauty—so close yet so far.

•───────•°•❀•°•───────•

this is so fucking stupid, bakugou thinks. he should be buying flowers for you, not from you—or whatever couples do nowadays to please their partners. but here he is, back again. even if he is your drive home, this weird tradition of buying your flowers he had gotten accustomed is getting old. he just hopes you’re getting the hint that he’s not exactly here for the flowers.

katsuki doesn’t even bother announcing himself when he doesn’t see you behind the counter—you’re probably somewhere in the back tidying up some final things so you can leave, so he starts looking for something to buy already.

“hey, got anything new f’me to buy?” he calls out then, and he hears some rustling from the back room. he figures he might help you out so without much thought, he saunters around the counter, following the noise of your muffled movements.

your voice rings out, “yeah, i do! just lemme-” way closer than before and just as he enters the doorway of the backroom, you appear—walking right into him.

now, obviously he’s a wall. lean and fine muscle make up his body—and you crash into him, yelping when you stumble back in surprise.

bakugou’s reflexes are quick and he manages to catch you in time—his arm dips low and braces the small of your back before you can fall over. “fuckin’ idiot,” he huffs out, “be careful.”

“hey!” you cry out in protest, “you’re the one who was standing there! for someone so loud, you sure are stealthy.”

“ah? i can be plenty fucking stealthy!” he argues, voice booming against the walls and proving your point.

you giggle at that—and that’s when katsuki realizes you’re both so fucking close. he can see the shape of your lips and the way your eyes gleam in the lighting from above. he freezes.

you seem to realize it too, falling silent for a couple of heartbeats. bakugou clears his throat and lets you go. “alright, brat. gonna give me my flowers so we can fuckin’ leave already?”

he thinks he sees your shoulders relax and fall down before you nod and brush past him. “yeah, of course.”

he scoffs and follows you, wondering what it’d be like to kiss you.

•───────•°•❀•°•───────•

you twiddle with some ribbons laced around some pottery, trying to redo some decorations on them since you can spare some time.

bakugou had come in a little early for you to close up, so he’s waiting for you to finish, casually leaning on the counter as he observes the store. okay, well- you’re not exactly sure what he’s doing, since he’s probably memorized the entire layout of your small area of the building by now because of how many times he’s been here.

you’re humming idly to yourself, the tv flicked on to some music ambience channel to full in the quiet air anytime bakugou isn’t striking up a conversation. he’s been silent for a while now.

“what’s a person’s ideal date?”

you nearly drop a vase. obviously, the question surprises you. it should, you think, since this is a pro hero who’s been coming to your flower shop for over a month or two now, supposedly getting flowers for his significant other—even if he does linger around longer than he should and drives you home—and he’s asking you on what someone’s ideal date is? this.. doesn’t make any sense.

“well...” you begin reluctantly, unsure of where this is leading, and even more unsure on how to actually answer. “it depends on the person, bakugou.”

the blonde simply clicks his tongue and his eyes meet yours.

“okay then. what’s your ideal date?”

just when you think he can’t surprise you any further, he does. you’re pretty sure your eyes nearly bug out of their sockets as you set the vase aside so you don’t actually drop it. “huh?”

“you heard me, dumbass,” katsuki scoffs with a roll of his eyes and you want to disappear into the floor. “what’s your ideal date?”

your throat suddenly feels dry. “i’m, uh, not the best person to ask for romantic advice, bakugou,” you warn, trying to be all teasing as you laugh anxiously. you do not want to help him plan out a date—you’d rather throw yourself into the sun.

“‘m serious, brat,” bakugou grumbles, crossing his arms and glaring at you. you can’t read him, usually you can’t, but his eyes are warm. “tell me.”

you continue fiddling with some ribbons as you glance away to contemplate. “well.. a- a picnic date would be nice. with some of my favorite foods, maybe. it’d probably be out in some meadow. just.. a nice, open meadow where you can see flowers for miles.” you sigh dreamily.

it’s quiet again and then you glance back to him, stammering, “but- but that’s just my preference! i dunno if the person you’re seeing would like that ‘n stuff. everyone’s different, y’know?”

suddenly he’s got this confused scowl on his face, brows furrowed and eyes narrowed. oh god, did you offend him in some way? say something awful? what if you-

“hah?” bakugou snaps, voice colored in disbelief, “who the hell said i was seeing someone?”

what? now it’s your turn to be utterly confused, and you stare at him with wide eyes. “you’re not- you’re not seeing someone? dating someone?” you inquire, puzzled.

“no, dumbass!” he barks out, “i’m not- where the fuck did you get that idea from?”

you blink once, twice. “you!” you cry out, saying, “when you came in here for the very first time, you asked me to get you flowers for a date!”

bakugou’s eyes widen and then he’s taking steps towards you. “not a date for me, dumbass! my friend asked me to get him flowers for his date!”

your mind spins with the new information but you’re still so confused, still in denial—you shake your head. “but- but.. why else would you come in for flowers every single day?”

“because i wanted to see you!”

oh. the confession has your cheeks heating up. so… the blonde you’ve been harboring a massive crush on is, in fact, not seeing anyone, and is coming in every day to your flower shop to buy your flowers because he wants to see you?

bakugou stares at you, eyes all wide as if he can’t believe what he had just said aloud. his words are echoing in your head and you laugh a little. “you.. aren’t here for the flowers?” you say softly.

his gaze is all warm as he relaxes, and you can see the faint pink tingeing his cheeks. “no,” he confesses in a grumble, “..‘m here for you and your stupid dumbass.”

you laugh again, and he finally reaches you. his fingers twitch and slowly, you take his hands in yours. they feel a little warm, clumsy like he doesn’t know what to do with his fingers before they tighten around yours. “we really are idiots, huh?” when he glares at you softly, you add, “i like you too. just so you know.”

his blush is visible and oh so pretty now, and he lets out a sigh of relief at your words. and then he snorts, “good, ‘cus i’m gonna need some help takin’ care of all the stupid fuckin’ flowers at my apartment. it’s practically a shop now too.”

as he pulls you into a crushing hug, you burst into a fit of giggles.

•───────•°•❀•°•───────•

“you forgot to water this one, you idiot!” katsuki calls from the corner of your shop, grumbling at some of the drooping crotons you brought in recently. “where the fuck did you put the watering can?”

you point to the counter, too occupied with fixing the succulents. “should be somewhere on the floor over there, suki,” you tell him. and as you watch him snatch the watering can and storm back over to the plants in need, you grin to yourself.

“thanks, katsuki,” you hum as you stand back up, “you’re a big help, y’know?”

he scoffs. “yeah, yeah.” as he tilts the watering can to spray the plants, he continues in a hushed voice. “what you would ‘lil fuckers do without me, ah?”

your heart does a flip. a month or so ago, you wouldn’t believe it if someone had told you that the pro hero dynamight would be in your shop taking care of your plants as he talks to them. but you know, you also wouldn’t have believed it if they had told you he’d be your boyfriend.

•───────•°•❀•°•───────•

and katsuki eventually does take you out on that ideal date once it gets warmer. a dainty picnic lunch with your favorite foods that he made from scratch in his very own kitchen in a heavenly meadow surrounded by flowers all around.

and it’s there, when he kisses you, that bakugou katsuki realizes that he doesn’t hate flowers. especially since he has the most gorgeous flower of them all—you.

#bnha bakugo katsuki #bakugou katsuki #katsuki bakugou #bakugou katuski x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #bakugou x reader #katsuki x reader #bakugou katsuki x you #katsuki bakugou x you #bakugou katsuki fluff #katsuki bakugou fluff #bakugou fluff #bnha fanfiction #mha fanfiction #bnha fluff #mha fluff #rain’s writing #my writing

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orqheuss · 1 year

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Clumsy Love

(Ominis Gaunt/F!Reader FLUFF)

Summary:

Ominis was supposed to be your best friend, so why did being close to him suddenly make your heart race? *** A relaxing day in the Room of Requirement takes a turn that you never expected. Not that you were complaining, though. Who doesn't love a little bit of dancing?

Word count: 3k

AN: I thought this was a really cute idea, and I love the trope where a character is so emotionally constipated that they don't realize they're in love until a really inopportune moment.

If you wanna listen to something while you read, I have a jazz playlist here BUT, if you want specifics, the two songs that I was thinking of for the swing dancing scene started with "Dream a Little Dream of Me" by Ella Fitzgerald, followed by "In the Mood" by Glenn Miller. (if you want a song for the ending, I suggest "The Face I Love" by Stacy Kent)

You didn’t know what you were expecting to come from your day when you retreated to the Room of Requirement, but it certainly wasn’t what was in front of you at the current moment.

In all honesty, your day started fairly normal— double potions with the Gryffindors, followed by Charms. It wasn’t uncommon for one of your boys, sometimes even both, to follow you from Professor Ronen’s room to your little sanctuary in the Astronomy tower, and today it seemed that Ominis in particular wanted to bask in your company for a little bit longer. Just Ominis. He seemed to be doing that more often as of late. Be it little lingering touches on your arm when he goes to gather your potion ingredients for you, offering to carry your textbooks to a class that you shared, sitting slightly closer than what was normally deemed appropriate at your house table during supper, or going as far as to fall asleep curled against your arm in History of Magic, he was always around. Not that you minded, of course; he was your best friend, bar Sebastian.

What you did mind was how your body reacted to his closeness, something that happened completely outside of your control. Every time his skin brushed against yours it was like a swarm of lacewing flies hatched in your stomach, their tiny wings beating harshly against the lining of your gut and scratching all the way up to your brain, making it fuzzy and muddled. Your palms would sweat when he stood close to you, small tremors wracking through your form if his shoulder so much as bumped against yours as he shifted his weight from foot to foot. At one point, Sebastian, noticing the extreme shade of pink that overtook your face one evening in the common room when Ominis’ hand “accidentally” brushed against the bare skin above your knee when he reached for his Astronomy textbook on the table, made a big show of pressing his hand to your forehead and feeling for a temperature, asking if you were feeling alright.The most concerning part, though, was that you had become incredibly clumsy whenever he was around. He could just simply speak your name and you would nearly drop anything you were holding in your hands. Sometimes it was something small like your quill, or a hairbrush, but once, to your, and everyone else in your Herbology classes, displeasure, you had dropped the mandrake you were potting when he whispered in your ear asking for help locating his offending tuber. You were beginning to think that you should go pay nurse Blainey a visit— someone must have cursed you to act like this around the sweet blond boy. There was really no logical reason to be this worked up in his presence, and it drove you mad that not only had your peers begun to notice your little slip-ups, but Ominis had also begun to take note of your strange behavior.

The worst part of it all, though, was instead of asking if you were alright, or coming to the same conclusion as you about the possible curse, he seemed obnoxiously smug about your reactions to him once Sebastian had the gall to point them out.

What did he know that you didn’t?

Either way, you had developed a new symptom that day in your Come and Go room. An old gramophone had appeared in the corner of your little sitting area not long after you entered, playing some soft ragtime tune chalk full of brass and jaunty piano that created a lovely ambiance to your impromptu study session. Ominis had started humming along soon after it began, seemingly recognizing the melody. His voice had a lovely timbre to it— something deep and earthy that rumbled in your chest and made your heart race with every lift and fall of the notes. Eyes fluttering shut, the book in your lap quickly lost your interest much like most other things when you were in the Slyrherin’s presence. He had this gravitational pull to him that you couldn’t help but react to; everything in your body screamed that you needed to be in his orbit forever.

Normally, the smallest of movements from him captured your attention, but you were so enthralled by his angelic voice that you didn’t notice him standing before you, his hand outstretched in front of your face and his palm facing the sky, until that heavenly throat cleared itself. You shook yourself from your hypnotized state, fumbling with the book open in your lap and slamming it closed by accident from the shock before snapping your gaze to his. He was looking down at you with a gleam of mirth in his eyes, the mischievous glint making the oceanic blues glitter like the reflection of stars on the black lake. It was uncanny how well he could meet your gaze, no matter the struggles his disability would normally pose. Ominis chuckled lightly at your squeak of fright, flexing his fingers in your direction again as he spoke, his smile clear in his tone.

“Care to dance, dearest?”

Dearest. Your two boys called you little pet names before, nothing more significant than a “dear” or “love” here and there, but dearest? Merlin help you. You had felt your heart pick up its pace around the blond before, but the way his mouth moved around that sweet sounding word made your trusty organ completely stop.

That was definitely new.

He laughed again, a velvety sound that completely wiped your mind of whatever you were about to say. One of Ominis’ perfect eyebrows quirked up slightly, his teeth biting his lower lip in an attempt to hide his cheeky smirk.

Your jaw opened and closed like a fish gasping for air as you struggled to find your words again. Detangling one of your hands from the knot that your fingers made on your lap, you carefully placed it in his waiting palm; your heartbeat skipping again at the sight of his long, lithe fingers completely engulfing yours.

You stuttered around the sudden dryness in your mouth. “Y-Yes! I’d love to.”

The pretty blond’s smile only grew wider as he pulled you up to stand, his pearly white teeth catching the sun rays streaming through the large skylight above as he pressed his hand to the small of your back, drawing you closer until you were flushed with his chest. You prayed to the gods above that he couldn’t feel how harshly your heart was pounding in your chest.

Ominis carefully swayed the two of you to the beat of the music, his smooth voice humming softly in your ear again as he moved your bodies to and fro. Your shoulders slowly relaxed as the music picked up in volume, the warm-toned sound of the trumpets backing the warbly voice of the jazzy songstress flowing pleasantly through your ears and curling around the forefront of your mind. The boy started to move a bit more, taking your gentle breath against the junction of his neck as the go ahead to move the both of you in a more pronounced motion. As much as he loved messing with you, he still wanted you to feel comfortable around him. Ominis slowly spun you around, keeping small circles for now and letting himself truly relax into the music. His soft hums pittered off more and more with each passing moment, the sound soon being taken over by his singing voice melding with the lyrics of the song playing. Your heartbeat slowed as a contentedness filled your entire body. There was nothing in the world that you could compare the tonality of his voice to; it was truly divine— the lilt of his accent taking you like a breeze on a cooled, winter morning.

The music only got livelier the longer the two of you were tangled in the embrace. Saxophones sang alongside the standing bass with each swung note, trumpets called across the recording studio and were answered by the trombones on the other side, the piano plucked through a scattered melody that was finished by the vocalist. All the while, Ominis never faltered in his steps. You had never seen his smile so big before— so full of joy and life. Looking at him was like the sun had finally come out after a long, dreary blizzard. There was nowhere else you wanted to be in that very moment, everything was absolutely perfect.

As the ragtime piano sped up in tempo, so did your steps. The two of you spun around the large, expansive room, letting the music carry you away into its sweet oblivion. Your skirts gently brushed against Ominis’ calves as he swung your body where he wanted it to go, leading you to the best of his ability without his wand to guide him. You served as his eyes, gently pulling him away from things in your path like end tables or chairs as you climbed up and down the stairs, winding around your vivariums and through the grand, columned hallways connecting each section to the other. It wasn’t a good dance in the slightest, neither of you quite coordinated enough to warrant any applause or win any competitions. More often than not your feet ended up atop of his, but he never once flinched or grumbled at your lack of experience. The wiry boy was completely content in this little bit of chaos— he would happily let even the likes of a graphorn crush his toes if he could keep holding you in his arms like this. Your laughter mingled together, bouncing off the tall cathedral ceilings and ringing like the bells of Hogsmeade on a spring day, the smell of fizzing whizbees from Honeydukes and the tiny bangs of fireworks from Zonkos dancing together in the air.

All of it came crashing down, however, when you did not see the corner of your wizards chess table come into focus— much too distracted by the way the light of your gas lamps caught the white streaks in his pupil-less eyes just right. One wrong move of your ankle and down you both went, tumbling to the ground in a grand knot. Ominis quickly turned his body to shelter your fall, pulling you closer to his chest in a show of protection as he braced for impact against the cold stone floor. He landed first, a soft puff of air leaving his throat alongside a pained “ooph” as your dead weight pressed against his ribs. You clumsily gathered your bearings, scrambling up to your elbows and a rouged blush stretching from ear to ear as apologies fell frantically from your lips.

“Oh Merlin, I am so sorry, Ominis. How unbecoming of me, let me just—”

His arms tightened around your waist, his fingertips digging into your sides and keeping you steady and exactly where you were, giving you no room to move from his hold. The contact was near burning, like ten tiny hot coals against your skin. You didn’t think you could possibly blush anymore than you already were. Luckily, it seemed that Ominis was in a very similar state under you. His own cheeks were painted the color of roses, making his birthmarks stand out exponentially more against the normal paleness of his skin tone. You traced the tiny, homemade constellations, casting your eyes up more until they met his unseeing, wide-eyed stare. You had never been this close to the boy's face before— never noticed how deep his eyes were, like two endless whirlpools off the Clagmar coast. They drew you in, pulling you deeper and deeper into his frothing currents. You could see entire coastines in them, the seafoam tides that rolled through his turbulent irises smooth but strong like a riptide. There was no question in your mind that you would be completely content drowning in those waves.

Your thoughts came to a pause when the most adorable giggle you had ever heard came from the boy underneath you. His eyes began to crinkle at the corners as his smile grew wider, tiny little whimpers of a laugh escaping through his parted lips as the situation at hand began to take shape in his mind. Ominis’ entire face lit up like the sun as he laughed, the volume of his voice rising steadily until loud guffaws wracked through his entire body. The tremors vibrated where you were connected, sending a warming buzz through your system as you too were taken over by uncontrollable laughter. Your head fell to his chest, pressing your temple against his sternum as one of his hands reached upwards and thread its way into your hair. If anyone were to come into the room they would think you both had gone completely loony. Who knows, maybe you had. All you knew, though, was that this was the happiest you had felt in a very long time.

Your cackles soon slowly pittered down to soft giggles as you straightened your neck, opening your eyes again and gazing at the beautiful boy you were still on top of. You didn’t notice when he had stopped laughing with you, but the look on his face at that very second could have ceased time itself. Ominis’ lips were curled upwards in the softest smile you had ever seen, his eyes gentle and half lidded like a cat content in a sunbeam. You were sure he would be purring right now if he had the ability. He was somehow looking at you in a way that you could only describe as how the moon would look at the earth— like your laughter was the sole reason his world continued to spin on its axis.

Everything you had been feeling, every physical reaction that had confounded you as of late in regards to the blond suddenly made sense. You had not been cursed to act like a blithering idiot like you had originally thought, the answer was much more simple than that. It was truly idiotic how long it took you to realize the simple fact of the matter: you were in love with him. It wasn’t a shock when you finally pieced it together, if anything the revelation came to you as easy as breathing. You were in love with Ominis Gaunt, no if’s, and’s, or but’s.

One of your hands shifted slightly to the right, cradling the side of his face and soothing your thumb against his cheekbone as his reached to do the same, brushing the hair that fell from your bun behind your ear and gently holding the side of your jaw that he didn’t already have a hand on. A surge of bravery shocked through your veins like lightning as your eyes narrowed in on the soft curve of his cupid's bow, your face leaning minutely closer and your breath fanning against his lips as his eyes flitted closed.

Screw prosperity, and screw what was deemed “ladylike.” Right now, there was only one thing you wanted to do, and you didn’t think you would ever get another chance as perfect as this.

Your lips curled into a smile of your own as you whispered against his skin, mouth a hairs length away and gently brushing against his as you spoke. “I am going to kiss you now, Ominis, if that’s alright.”

All he could do was nod slightly, his own words nothing but a trick of the wind. As if he would ever deny you, and by extension himself, of that simple pleasure. “Okay…”

And then there was no more space between the two of you. Your lips fit together like two puzzle pieces, both torn, well loved, and worn but still able to fit together no matter how many times your edges are frayed. There were no grand fireworks, nor bursts of stars behind your eyes as your mouths moved in tandem, just the feeling that this was right. This was what was missing from your life all of these years. His hands pulled your face impossibly closer, one set of fingers working their way under your top knot and gripping at your roots as you both poured everything you had been feeling into the other. For once, everything was bliss.

The kiss ended much sooner than you would have liked it to, but unfortunately as humans you needed to breathe every so often. Ominis’ smile was contagious as he pulled away, his breath fanning heavily across your cheeks as he pressed gentle pecks into your skin. It was like a weight had been lifted off his chest. His subtle gestures of courting had finally worked.

“I have wanted to do that for so long.”

You snickered lightly, rubbing the tip of your nose against his. “Why didn’t you, then?”

It was his turn to laugh now, his breathy chuckle your new favorite sound. “It seems I’m just as clumsy with my emotions as you are, my dearest.”

You both dissolved into giggles again, letting your heartbeats slow back to a normal pace before continuing your activities from before. The gramophone continued to warble from the corner, beckoning you to dance once more with its saccharine song, and who were you to deny its call.

No, it may not have been a perfect dance, nor a perfect first kiss, but it was yours.

As you clamored off of the fallen blond, cradling his hand in yours as you helped him up from the floor and back into the dancing position you had found yourself in moments ago, you knew one thing for certain: there were definitely going to be more dances, and certainly more clumsiness, to come.

AN: I won't lie, I don't think this is my best. I still wanted to put it out there though. It's my birthday, pls be nice to me.

***

like what you read? here's more!

#tina speaks #hogwarts legacy #hl #ominis gaunt x mc #ominis gaunt x reader #ao3 #ao3 fic #ao3 writer #ominis gaunt x you #ominis gaunt #hogwarts legacy ominis #ominis #fluff #just pure fluff #masterlist

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aayakashii · 4 months

Text

I wrote this in like 2 hours so I apologize if it's bad but!!! I was struck with inspiration and had to write it + I am a sucker for fics abt dancing because I'm a dancer so ✋️ ANYWAYS

Pairing: Romeo Lucci x MC

Tags: PINING; romeo doesnt accept his feelings; gender neutral MC; the song that is mentioned in this fic is this one

the house never loses

The casino had closed for the night.

Fragments of life were scattered on the floor – pieces of glass, candy wrappers, dirtied pills, crushed beer cans.

Romeo curled his lips in disgust.

Everyone was distasteful. Brute, graceless little things that only served to be his source of income. Couldn't even clean up after themselves, the mindless sheep, blinded by the possibility of being rich quickly.

He wasnt really one to judge, but at least he was smart.

He knew he had to win. He had to be the dealer, the house, no matter the situation. He would never be the customer.

That was how things fall apart.

You lose control, someone else pull the strings of your life and then you trip – and fall. And lose, lose, lose. One bet after the other, golden coins falling through the cracks of the floor underneath you, forever out of reach.

No, he couldn't be anything else besides the dealer, he wouldn't allow otherwise. He had his family as a bitter example of steps he should not follow.

Still, under this position of power, he saw all the grimy beings that walked on this godforsaken place – traitors and hypocrites that tried to hide their greed behind a mask – and he hated them all.

"Dirty pricks that can't even pick up after themselves", he thought, kicking another empty beer can.

He wouldn't clean it, however. Obviously. He had his pawns to do that for him and today, specifically, he had the worthless honor student do that job for him.

He sighed, massaging his forehead to ease the wrinkle between his brows.

"Honor, my ass", he mumbled, remembering how they messed up yet another prototype order earlier that day, which landed them the merciless job of cleaning the casino after it was closed.

Romeo clicked his tongue, remembering the faces of the rest of the staff once they realized they would have a night off at the expense of someone else.

In the end, it was a dog eat dog situation. He wouldn't be surprised if people started sabotaging them just to get more days off. He put this sudden conclusion at the back of his mind, patting himself on the back for being so smart and way ahead of everyone around him. Then, he stepped on a cigarette butt and stained the burgundy carpet with its ashes.

"Where the fuck is that basic bitch?" he groaned, kicking the cigarette butt under one of the poker tables, maneuvering faster between all the stools, readying himself to give them the scolding of a lifetime.

He expects excellency from himself – it's only natural he expects the same from everyone around him, although this habit always seems to leave him disappointed.

Romeo's ears perked up as he stomped his way towards the back of the casino.

It housed the bar area, with a small stage for (now rare) jazz performances – after Sinostra was banned from leaving the campus, it also meant people from outside were also banned from coming in. Believe it or not, there aren't many jazz musicians among university students.

The bar stood behind matte glass doors that kept the sound muffled for those that wanted to drown their sorrows away after losing one too many games.

Romeo made his way to the entrance of the bar, as his ears picked up a few stray music notes coming from the inside of the place. He readied himself to scold whatever student was inside after closing hours – after all, if they wanted to use the space, then they should pay for it. It's only obvious.

He opened the door quietly, in order to catch them by surprise, squinting as he tried to assess who was inside despite the permanent mist of cigarette smoke that hung in the air.

The song came from a phone that stood on the bar counter, the words too jumbled and distorted by the busted speakers, but with a melancholy that touched him still.

He opened his mouth to call out whoever was inside, yet the words stuck on his tongue like cheap candy.

The first thing he saw were the arms.

The arms moved slowly, as if they were swimming in honey. Fingers grasped the thick air that surrounded them and seemed to mold it into a silk veil that surrounded their body.

Then, he saw the legs.

Softly, silently, they carried their body through slow twirls. They lifted one of them up, bare foot en pointe, landing it graciously to once again turn around themselves.

And finally, he saw their face.

Eyes half lidded in pure concentration, they saw nothing but the world they created for themselves as they danced.

The words died inside Romeo's mouth as he saw his worthless honor student dance to the song.

He gulped harshily as he watched them grab their own chest, suffering silently for some estranged lover they were probably seeing in their mind's eye as they danced.

Romeo felt his own heart race, his purple eyes going red and teary as he tried not to blink, so he wouldn't miss any moment. His stomach twisted inside out – or, at least, it was how he felt it – as he wondered if they were thinking of anyone specific while they looked so desperately in love.

His breath hitched at the thought and he discarded it in a pile of things he would rather not think about, on the corners of his mind.

They threw their arms out slowly, as if they wanted to hug the entire world – or fly away from it, only to lose it all while they bring their hands to their face, in theatrical despair.

Romeo wondered how it would feel to be the one in between their arms and loved so desperately, and the thought was too big, to persistent to be put aside.

His hands twitched as he tried to take a step inside and ask who was it that they thought of as they ran their hands on their lips and body, but as he heard the song grow into its highest peak, Romeo instinctively closed the door, before he could see whether or not that secret performance would have a happy ending or a sad one.

He rested his head against the glass, feeling the coolness of it spread on his flushed face.

Romeo put his hand against his heart, feeling the fast beats in contrast with the muffled and slow ending of the song inside, and breathed deeply, realizing he had been holding his breath like a predator does with a prey on the wild.

"Romeo?" their voice sounded shaky and scared, as if they had just been caught committing a crime. As if they were his prey.

Romeo cleared his throat and opened the door once again, this time fierce and quickly.

"Ah, there you are, you BB." they winced as he yelled the insulting abbreviation "I was looking for you. Didn't you see how dirty the casino is? You are supposed to clean everything, not just this place."

Romeo saw as they pursed their lips, looking down, an expression of annoyance and sadness making itself clear on their face.

"I- I know. I was just finishing here." They lied, dejected.

"Well. I expect this place to be spotless by tomorrow. I don't care if you need to spend all night here. Just do your job!"

"Yes, Romeo." they sighed loudly, picking up a broom, and then walked briskly past him, frustratingly avoiding him as much as possible.

Deep inside, however, he knew he couldn't possibly blame them. Not with the venom he spits on their face at every single encounter.

Romeo kept looking inside of the room, staring at the phone they left on the bar counter, consciously refusing to observe them as they walked somewhere else inside the casino.

He refused to look at them as they moved graciously between the tables; refused to think about the faint scent of vanilla mixed with cigarette and sweat on their body; refused to acknowledge his racing heart; and refused to look them in their eyes for too long.

Romeo refused to lose control of his own strings.

After all, he was the dealer, he was the house.

He wasn't supposed to lose.

#tokyo debunker #tokyo debunker x reader #tokyo debunker romeo lucci #romeo lucci #romeo lucci x reader #tokyo debunker x mc #romeo lucci x mc

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fog-kid · 7 months

Text

I saw the wiki writing about q!Jaiden's death and got an idea. Here's to the end of Parrotduo

Roier doesn't believe in gods, he doesn't believe any creature could be as cruel to orchestrate this Hell. A lot of people in the island do though, when they talk about certain things that have no logic behind them.

Like when Spreen went missing, that was okay. Roier never let go, he's not the type to forget, but he could live his life normally because at least he had somewhere to place his hate.

One day, a normal day, no big fights with codes or books from white bears, just a simple day, the island realized he was dead.

That's when Roier got bitter because all this hate was left with no vessel and when it all sprang back to him, he had no choice but to look at it. Nowhere to shove the love that was tangled between all his ill wishings.

He doesn't believe in gods, but that time when everyone came to the same conclusion, they decided there was more to it all.

Today, Roier is in a cellar when he finds out. He can almost see it being written, Purgatory, not arriving on the ship, nuclear bomb. If there are gods, they are awfully descriptive and he once again wishes to be a non believer.

He hugs his legs, guilt nagging at the base of his throat and ending at the nails that dig into his pants, because he has to mourn in a body that's not his. He almost doesn't want to picture her, she's too good for this foreign brain. Doied doesn't deserve to even come close to the pain that's stitching his eyes, he has no place where Jaiden is concerned.

Still, there's nothing to do, and his tears are more him than the cheeks they slide down, because him and Jaiden, that could never be about a body. That was deeper, so much deeper. All of a sudden there's a hole in his chest where she was supposed to be and he knows there's a piece of him lost somewhere that should have stayed in Jaiden too.

That would be it then, he feels it swell inside him and break his ribcage, all of the words he never got to say and the smiles he never got to watch. The fight they put up, the nights they cried themselves to sleep. More than a heartbreak, it's a matter of soul.

"Is there anyone left?" he wonders aloud when the dizziness from days without sleep draws a perfect picture of her in front of him. Her wings look ethereal like never before

"Where do I put all this love if there's no one left?" he tries asking. Her smile was always too much like a setting sun.

She doesn't answer but it's clear to Roier like it was clear to her when she stayed. They never had answers, they never asked each other these questions because the other was always wondering the same thing.

He wonders now, alone and nothing but a mind trapped in treacherous flesh, if she will manage to find Bobby. He wonders if he has anything left to fight for. He wonders, for not more than a second, what it'll take to see her again. See them again.

And off she goes like everyone Roier comes to love. He should be used to this by now. He's not.

#jaiden did such an amazing job with her character i'll miss her dearly #but ummm yeah #roier just lost another person he loved #he is destined to watch everyone he loves die in every universe #that's just fate for him #oh well #parrotduo #qsmp #q!roier #q!jaiden #qsmp bobby #qsmp roier #qsmp purgatory #qsmp jaiden #qsmp headcanons #jaiden animations #doied

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catoperated · 24 days

Text

At some point we’re gonna have to talk about how toxic websites like 4chan and Something Awful (rest in piss, Lowtax) influenced trans spaces online.

I only ever used SA back in the day, and it’s now mostly forgotten that “troon” came from a portmanteau of “trans goon” (goon being a member of something awful, not like a gooner… but, eh, it’s still apt), though it was always meant to be belittling.

And then there I was, a transmasc egg surrounded by transfemmes. I didn’t know how to express that I wanted what they had but different, cause I seriously didn’t know trans men existed back then. All I saw were transfemmes, and most of them were transmedicalists. I got called a transphobe when I said wearing a skirt shouldn’t be a required part of transitioning. I have since met many cool trans ladies who aren’t truscum, but the scars remain.

At the time I couldn’t fully articulate how uncomfortable I was with the idea of transitioning to the same old binary, because I also didn’t know GNC was a thing. So for a time I was suicidal because I had no idea of the options open to me. I’m not sure that reading Theory back then would have helped. Having read Theory now (both feminist and communist), I’ve come to the conclusion people lean on it way too much, take it way too literally, never considering that the things proposed have to be adapted to changing times and circumstances. It’s almost like evangelicals interpreting the Bible literally—to everyone’s detriment.

My point being, you can read anything, watch any YouTuber, but for fuck’s sake form your own opinions instead of just throwing books and videos at people like it’ll explain everything and also must be followed to the letter. It won’t, and it shouldn’t.

Yeah, I was also briefly suicidal over leftists dogpiling disability activists for daring to get groceries delivered or using plastic straws. Only other disabled people probably remember this, but it was perpetuated by that butter cat account, which was the most surreal fucking thing to watch unfold.

I’m just tired. Tired of self-proclaimed feminists failing to recognize the patriarchy is what makes us all suffer, including cis men, and that’s the real enemy. I know radfems are largely to blame for pushing the “all men bad” narrative again with the express purpose of dividing trans people, I’ve seen them cackling about what they get away with on accounts where they pretend to be trans. It’s sad people are making their work so easy for them.

I don’t hate or resent transwomen (I can’t remember if the space is preferred or not, but I’m sitting here sweating over it, afraid someone will call out my language when “troon” is already up there), but here I am right back at that awful feeling I had when trying to say skirts should not equal femininity. Fuck, I would probably be suicidal again if not for my partner, who is the best thing to ever happen in my life (love you, babe).

I don’t know how to word this better or more succinctly. My mind wanders a lot when writing. But it’s not just me, right? I see the schism forming and it’s bad for all of us, because the people who want us dead do not care how we present ourselves or how well we pass. We desperately need to support and uplift each other if we’re going to survive all the shit they keep throwing at us all in governments across the entire goddamn world.

So yeah, we need to look at how those websites poisoned the well, as it’s where that mentality of “if you’re not queer/trans in the proper way I deserve to call you a slur” mentality comes from. The pickme urge to go “I’m not like those cringe fags/trannies, I’m one of the cool ones,” too. To reiterate, the people who want us dead for existing do not care one way or the other.

Fuck, why am I worrying about how I word this? If people are gonna interpret this in bad faith there’s nothing I can do to stop them. I just wanted to get this off my zipper-tits—which I’m stealing from you fuckers who use it against transmascs. I got my dirty testosterone fingers all over it and it’s ruined now, sorry.

#I’m not gonna tag this if you find it you find it #plz god don’t let this blow up #or Satan whichever #suicide mention #oh and by the scars remain I mean I was self harming

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autisticrosewilson · 15 days

Note

Hello to the one blog I've been loving to read for the past few days :) <3

Just wanted to add a little something that I started thinking abt after reading a few of your really cool posts, I think we should also discuss abt how Bruce's argument abt killing (with Jay) are often framed with "you're not the judge, jury & the executioner" which is really telling of who he thinks can exersise this legitimately? ? ?

I think it'd be constructive to actually properly discuss this aspect of Bruce's philosophy too. Plus, we get more nuanced Bruce characterisation. (Also keeping in mind uh... comic book propaganda of the writers and DC themselves)

YES ABSOLUTELY! Like what if someone is given a death sentence by a court of law? Does Bruce still care? I'm sure most writers would tell you no because Bruce has become a cop allegory. He's a violent enforcer of the law, and he seeks to uphold the law. Which is a recent switch! Batman comics used to be more radical, but now they're being written by old white men. So it's another one of those things where you can ignore it for your PERSONAL INTERPRETATION but you can't say that it's not A Thing because it's been like this for at least a decade.

His argument would likely be that everyone deserves a fair trial, that everyone has the right to be seen in court. Something which I do think Jason would agree with because when he's being written well he's not just shooting petty criminals! Jason's stance comes in with the big players, the disgustingly rich or well connected upper class who get away with murder. This has been true since the Garzonas case, the whole point was that Felipe was virtually immune to the law, and Jason couldn't allow that.

I think what it comes down to is whether they believe in reformative justice or punitive Justice, and I can most assuredly say that Batman believes in the latter. You can argue that Bruce is an advocate of prison reform but we don't really have evidence of that. He considers himself a punishment for criminals, he considers himself an equalizer but that's not true because he just delivers criminals into a system that is fundamentally corrupt and unfair. Do you actually think a trial in GOTHAM of all places is going to look at a rich man vs a petty crook the same way? That rarely happens even in real life.

And I don't think that Bruce does what he does out of inherent malice. Bruce is a deeply empathetic person, the core of Bruce Wayne is that he cares. But that's not enough, Bruce was allowed to grow up sheltered and it gave him an intrinsic idealism. He only has a Birdseye view of what the common people go through, that is not enough to stand there and say that he understands . Because he doesn't. He literally can't. And I think this bias, certainly one projected by the writers but that's another issue, comes through the most with Jason and Steph.

As far back as Jason's Robin era - widely regarded as Bruce's peak of being a good dad - he still makes some pretty big mistakes. Because he finds this homeless kid whose family has been ripped apart by the corrupted systems, who has actively experienced the worst Gotham has to offer, and he comes to the conclusion that if he doesn't take Jason home Jason will inevitably become a criminal even after Jason explicitly says he doesn't like stealing. So he takes Jason in but he makes that position as his son synonymous with Robin. And this is where we have to talk about meta because Jason is intrinsically tied to meta narratives. I'm not sure if you saw my other posts about Robin, as a concept, but I'll summarize here.

Child sidekicks are fine, in early comics. When things were campy light hearted whodunnit mysteries with a few action sequences, when you always knew that the child hero would come out unscathed, would always live till the next issue. And so when Bruce makes Jason Robin you have this veil of suspension of disbelief. But Jason's era is where you start seeing these kids' storylines get worse. More gruesome, more violent, more cruel. They start really testing the limit of Bruce's morality.

Batman: The Cult - Robin Jason has to crawl through a pile of dead bodies and while Bruce is having a mental break this MAYBE 14 year old is trying to get them out. The Diplomats Son - Jason watches a rapist be let go, because he's powerful and his dad has money. He sees exactly the kind of damage it does to the victims, he's the one who finds Gloria Stanson. A Death in the Family - Jason is murdered. Tortured and murdered and betrayed. He's dead and he was always intended to STAY dead. And all throughout Tim's run and then into Steph's the writers retroactively change everything about who Jason was because it has to be HIS fault, because if it's not Jason's fault then it might be Bruce's. Because how can audiences see Bruce as just and good for taking in new kids after what happened to the last one?

The suspension of disbelief shatters. Because now Jason is back and he's angry. Because maybe we as readers know that Tim, and Steph, and Damian need to be Robin because Robin makes money with young readers. But you know who doesn't know that? Jason, who no doubt assumed that his survival depended on being Robin. Who was sold out because he was Robin. Who was badmouthed and disgraced the entire time he was gone by people he loved and trusted. Jason doesn't know that he's in a comic book, but I argue he knows he's in a Batman story.

If not from his first appearance then definitely in recent ones. What can you do besides lay down and forgive and keep coming back when you know that the universe revolves around one man? How do you get rid of the terror and anger at realizing that you can never leave, that no matter how much he hurts you the universe will bend itself in half so that he is still just and right? When you realize that the love that has defined you is a disease rooted so deeply that to rip it out would be to kill yourself, that you can't even stay dead because Bruce does not want you to be.

And they couldn't even stick to Jason being the problem! Because then Steph dies. And all I could think was "Of course she did. She's an East End girl whose been compared to Jason constantly. Or a version of him. Of course she would be tortured to death trying to get Bruce's approval." Here we are, history has literally repeated itself, and...Tim is Robin again. Why? Because this is a comic book, and Batman needs Robin.

But what do you think everyone in-universe thinks? What do you think that looks like? How can you possibly still call Bruce a good parent under these circumstances? Bruce calls Robin a blessing, a gift, a necessity. He relies on Robin, physically to watch his back and emotionally to keep him in line. He trains them, he molds them, he loves them.

But sometimes love just isn't enough and the good Robin does shouldn't negate the harm they get in the process. Robin then becomes this horrible force of change, you get it and you know that this has doomed you, one way or another. Because Bruce believes that suffering is noble, that pain can reform people. It's baked into his character. Even if he doesn't intend to hurt his kids, it's not like we haven't seen him justify it to himself and others. "I love you, I did this for your own good, I thought I could help you, it was your fault I did that, it won't happen again, I lost control of myself but only this once, we can be a family again if you just come home." It reads an awful lot like an abuser trying to convince you or himself that he's not in the wrong.

This was longer than I intended it to be, but I guess my main point is that Bruce and Batman can't ever be fully separated. Something that I think his relationship with Cass shows us he's aware of but chooses to ignore. We know that Batman is dangerous, that he wouldn't hesitate to hurt his kids, we saw that with Zurr-Batman (WHO BRUCE ADMITTED WAS A FACET OF HIMSELF YOU CAN'T SAY IT WASN'T HIM BECAUSE HE HIMSELF SAID THAT IT WAS). So why try and act like it's this impossible out of character thing for Bruce to be harmful? For his kids to feel angry and hurt about his actions or for their feelings to be as or more valid than Bruce's. Batman has and will hurt his kids and Bruce will try to rationalize it all away because he loves them, he would never want to hurt them. And the narrative will tell us that Bruce is right, that this is good and fair and just, that Bruce's perspective is the correct one, that his kids deserve this, because this is a comic book and outrage sells. Or they'll retcon it and pretend it never happened. Or they'll just never bring it up again. Or Bruce will be forgiven regardless just to hammer home how good and right he is.

Because this is a comic book about Batman, and Batman is a hero, he is our protagonist, and so he is reliable and we should never doubt him, or call him out, or be mad at him. Naturally.

#ask #dc #glad you enjoyed my blog!#sorry I hit you with this but I've been stewing on it for a while #jason todd #bruce wayne #bruce wayne critical #meta analysis #character study?#of a sort

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set-wingedwarrior · 2 years

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I should have known that people would have acted annoying about the Team's reunion and, after the dumb takes I saw, here I am to make a breakdown of their reactions in relation to the context because that's defenitely how my psychology majoring is supposed to be used apparently

Before I dig specifically to each character I'd like to remind people that, like Weiss herself said, everything happened so fast. It's not just that the time itself wasn't that much. In between the fight and them trying to find each other in the Ever After it would have been, what? An hour?

It's been 2 years for us guys, for them it isn't that much time to justify the super touchy and hugs reunion like we got in V5, or V6 in Argus, or V8 when they meet back (except for Blake, but I'll get there). You all need to remember that media in general for stories like this aren't your fluffy fanfic full of feelings and hugs and kisses all the time.

Now, welcome to my psychology class! First on our list, our one and only traumatized team leader child, Ruby Rose.

"Why didn't ruby rush to hug her sister?"

Well, let's see it from her point of view; actually, we litterally saw it at the start of the episode! We saw how fast everything went from her eyes!

She had to go in fight mode in a fucking instant because, differently from Blake (who was trying to jump after Yang) and Weiss (who was busy stopping her), Ruby has been attacked immediately by Neo after her firt attempt at her life failed. She didn't even have the time to process what happened because she was already fighting for dear life!

Our brains are very resourceful machines that always try to save energy (it's why stereotypes exist, it's our brains identifying stuff by one thing to not think about it too hard), and considering how complex and crippling the feeling of loss is, and how much it takes to process, in a life or death situation our brains would just shut it down.

Because we're all different people it might not work the same for everyone, but Ruby is a trained fighter, she's a huntress, her body and mind falling in fighting mode is actually the most logical reaction in the given situation because it falls both on habit and instinct.

And given that she didn't even have the time to process the the thought that Yang might have been dead (even during the fucking fall she had to fight Neo still, give my girl a break!!), it's very reasonable that despite the frustration and stress of everything else in the Ever After, she wasn't too worried about Yan'g safety. Because she never got time to even think "I lost her" that she got in the very same situation. So, "If I fell and I'm here and I'm okay, then Yang is too, she must be fine".

Besides, Ruby did run towards her after fighting the thing!

Yang just interrupted her with her "Dammitt! You're not supposed to be here!" before Ruby settled to get near her and "If you thought we wouldn't come for you then you must have forgotten who raised me", so any argument about them not caring is just really dumb.

In conclusion, considering that she found out that her sister was probably okay before her brain could have even processed the concept of her loss, and all happening in a very short spawn of time, it makes 100% sense that Ruby wouldn't need to jump in her arms and cry or whatever. They're in a weird place but they are okay and that's all that matters (before Ruby will discover the horrors of what happened after she fell and the horrors of her quickly approaching breakdown, but that's for another time!)

Blake on the other hand.

Blake is the one that speed into action the moment she saw Yang fall. When chaos wa around nobody went to attack her, she saw Yang disappear in the void. Now, she got to feel the loss, the pain, the weight of failure because she failed to save her!

And her first reaction was to fucking jump after her. Because she couldn't fail, she couldn't lose her, she must save her! And Weiss had to drag her up the platform herself to stop her from doing so because they had a job to do and Blake was blinded by pain!

Then, she got blinded by rage. It wasn't her fault, it was Neo! And Cinder! And I think that in that moment of emotional disregulation it's reasonable to think that Blake wasn't acting for the good of Mantle, of the plan, or anything else. We all saw it in her eyes, it was pure rage, she wanted revenge! And that's completely reasonable in that given moment. She saw the love of her life DIE because of them, OF FUCKING COURSE SHE'S BLINDED BY SUCH POWERFUL EMOTION.

As you can probably already tell, Ruby and Blake's actions are dictated by very different feelings! Even if the action itself, fighting, is the same, the mindset and motivations differ completely!

So, what happens when she meets Yang again? That after the danger is over (because it's not like she dropped everything, they fought the thing and waited for the situation to calm down and be safe. She also waited for Ruby to say her things first tbf) she fucking runs to tackle her!

Because Blake actually got to see and feel the loss! She thought she had lost her! She thought that she died because she wasn't fast enough! So, even regardless of the romantic feelings (that obviously play a part because come on, they've been inseparable for volumes now, it's obvious that she would have felt it all that harder), it makes sense that Blake's the one to feel pure utter relief in seeing Yang still alive! And she'd need to go to her, feel that she's there with her!

Now, probably the most complex one to explain: Weiss.

In a way, she's middle ground between Ruby and Blake. Weiss wasn't attacked right away either, but she had to jump in action to stop Blake. That means that she stopped to see what was happening and at Yang's "death" she just assumed what Blake was about to do or else she wouldn't have ad the time to stop her (we saw how fast Blake was)

That means that, in some way, she got to take in what was going on before going in fight mode, but she still didn't get to process it herself because she needed to act on the others' behalf. Where Ruby was litterally just hanging in there and Blake was blinded by her pain, both of them against Neo, Weiss saw what happened and told to herself "I must keep going with the plan, I must protect who's left, I can't let Yang''s sacrifice go to waste" and went to fight Cinder alone (until Penny arrives).

Weiss during the fight is the one more "emotionally stable" (more like she efficiently locked them to be functional in the fight), she's well aware of what is going on and doing her best. In this mindset, she got to fight but also to see more clearly everything that is happening.

She's also the one who stayed there the longest. She's the one who saw the worst because she's been there long enough to witness more horrors, but despite the awareness she didn't get the time to really feel them. When does she though?

After she saw all of her teammates, her family, die. When she's almost completely alone. Only her Penny and Jaune left, Cinder towering them while she's using Gambol Shroud, everything she has left of her family, to try keep fighting. Because at that point there's less chaos, less things to prioritize her focus on, the evacuation is done, she just has to not let Cinder get Penny's powers.

We didn't see Weiss and Blake finding each other, but my guess is that either there was a hug off screen or, more likely, she kept it together because they logically needed their weapons and teammates back first. She then chooses to stay focused (and cheer for Blake, bless her), and work, and shuts down every question about what happened because she knows that talking about it would break her down and be a distraction from their objective.

Which is why she doesn't speak until they're all together: withouth a distraction, she's crying before she even got to start.

The pain added up and got to her, and I'm pretty sure that Ruby's big reaction wasn't just because of the news on their own, but also the feelings Weiss was letting out while telling them (you know when you feel someone is feeling bad even when they don't tell you nor openly act up on it? And you still feel deeply bad/uncmofortable?).

I got overboarded here, but in short Weiss didn't act too clingy in the reunion either because she was busy staying focused first and then dealing with EVERYTHING that happened earlier and that she needed to tell them. Like, after getting both to Blake and Ruby, Yang's safety was basically 100% sure anyway, so. And, again, everything happened so fast.

It's been 2 long years for us. Not for them. So, to the people who have been complaining, you're just projecting your own personal feelings on them and then calling it bad writing when they're not acting like you feel right now.

Class dismissed.

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formosusiniquis · 23 days

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Price of Fame

Written for @steddieangstyaugust Day 31: I'm not going to beg you to love me

T | WC: 1044 | No Archive Warnings Apply; Break up, No Makeup; Hurt No Comfort

AO3

It had been grueling, that's what Eddie thinks he's supposed to say. Blood, sweat, and tears. They got big by being lucky, the humble answer. They had been in the right place at the right time after working their asses off and now they're bigger than the biggest. Corroded Coffin is a household name used in the same sentences as Metallica and Sabbath.

And the honest answers to those interview questions about success, he always knew they fucking would be. It was a foregone conclusion in his mind, everyone else just had to catch up. They worked for it, blood and sweat that part probably is true. But what is it they always say? If you love what you do you never work a day in your life, Eddie thinks there's some truth to that too.

It's hard being on the road. But they got big and they stay big by touring, so Jeff wracks up a nasty bill at every hotel they manage to get calling the wife back home, Gareth keeps a girlfriend in every state, and he doesn't know what Freak's deal is. But the perk of being queer as a three dollar bill, Eddie can spend his nine months a year on the road and come back to Steve like nothing's changed. It's different with guys, with them. Cause Steve gets it, he's always been their biggest supporter. He knows the music comes first, the guys are Eddie's family, and he doesn't complain or ask for anything more than the time Eddie is able to give him.

It'll be a longer stretch at home this time, nearly a month, and Eddie is pushing open the door to the apartment he keeps for Steve already thinking about all the ways they can spend the time.

All to trip over a bag in the floor. Dropping his behind him with a thump, the old army surplus duffle that's been as faithful to him as his boyfriend hitting the ground with a smack that brings the man of the hour out from the bedroom. He's got another bag over his shoulder, something expensive looking and stylish that Eddie wonders if he bought.

“Did I forget to tell you I was coming home?”

“Well it wouldn't be the first time,” Steve's voice is sharp and clipped. Face pinched in a way that conjures memories of his mother, the one time Eddie met her.

“If you've got a trip with Robin planned change it, I'll only-”

“Be in town for a few days?” Steve asks. “So I should keep putting my life on hold for the few minutes that you can pencil me in? Change my plans because you've blown into town and just like always Eddie Munson's plans are more important than anyone else's.”

“I thought you'd be happy to see me?”

The question brings a quiet like the eye of the storm, he can already feel the whipping wind starting to push back in around him, smell the ozone in the air; but those words halt everything for a second.

Then Steve breaks.

“I am happy, Eddie,” there's a wet shine in his eye and he knows better than to think Steve is going to give him the satisfaction of letting a single one fall. “That's the worst part. I'm happy every time you walk through the door but I can't fucking survive only being happy one week out of every nine.”

A DM at heart, he can't stand a problem that no one will bring a solution to. Spits the way he would when Gareth would bitch about combat balance, “Then fu-”

“Call a hotel you haven't left the number to?” Steve is vicious, stealing the satisfaction of the curse from between his still pursed lips. “I spent my whole fucking childhood doing that, and I'm not doing it anymore. I-”

He looks down at his feet, at Eddie's, the sprawl of the pristine leather suitcase he moved in with years ago, his grandfather's Eddie remembers. Rather, he remembers the fond way Steve had talked about it.

“I'm done,” he says more to the kicked over luggage than he does to the man he is leaving. “I'm gonna stay at Robin's, she's waiting.”

Desperation claws at the back of Eddie's throat, but what makes it out is his father. “You can't leave.”

Fury lurks at the bottom of the water in Steve's red rimmed eyes. An anger Eddie can feel as they snap to his. “Why not? There's no prenup, no lawyers to get involved. I can walk right out the door you're standing in the way of and you can keep on being Eddie Munson, mysterious bachelor of Corroded Coffin.”

“There is no me without you,” he tries, but even saying it he can hear how it rings hollow off the barren hallway walls.

Steve likes to yell, likes to get loud, has told Eddie it's the only way he could make sure that there was life in the big empty house he grew up in was to make sure he could hear his bouncing off the walls. So he's ready to be yelled at. Ready for whatever Steve wants to scream in his face before they move back into the kitchen or to the bedroom where they'll find normal again.

So he almost doesn't hear the whispered way his relationship slips away. “I'm not going to beg you to love me. I can't do that again.”

“Steve, no, Stevie I do. I do love you. Of course I love you, all of this is for you. All of everything is for you, we can work this out. Just stay.” He begs, babbles, pleads as Steve moves with a silent assuredness close enough to pick up his bag.

“Goodbye, Eddie, I really am so proud of you.” Sincerity rings through in every word, just like he can feel that bittersweet love in Steve's last kiss to the corner of his mouth.

The door clicks shut between them and Eddie is alone. Alone holding the scraps of a broken heart he won't be able to write a song about and with an answer he can't give to his least favorite interview question. What's been the cost of your meteoric rise to fame?

#my fic #steddie #steddieangstyaugust #break up no make up #hurt no comfort #not usually my bag you guys but its what the story called for #ive had this written since like week 1 of this month #id just watched jersey boys and i was reading jim hensons biography #so i had those shared themes of fame coming at the price of those romantic relationships on the brain

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poisonedprose · 1 year

Text

₊˚✧ heart breaker. — in which you'd wait for ellie a thousand lifetimes if you had to

college!ellie williams x fem!reader

warnings: 2.4k words, light smut (at the end, its not important to the story, you can skip it!), cursing, y/n use, jealousy, (mostly) one sided pining, cheating, mentions of catcalling, alcohol, drug and overdose mention,

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Everything about you angered her. Her face, her attitude, her personality. She held herself high like she was untouchable. The way everyone laughed when she made a joke that wasn't even funny. Every time you saw her in the halls or in class you wanted to rip out your intestines- or maybe it was hers you wanted to rip out.

Now, was no different. There she was... with Ellie. Out of every single girl in this school, she chose the one you've been madly in love with since middle school. It was almost as if she was taunting you, showing that Ellie was capable of loving someone- everyone- romantically, except for you. Your eyes watched her every movement, watching as she laughed and grabbed Ellie's arm as she did. Watching as she took Ellie's drink right out of her hands and took a sip. Watching as her hands landed on Ellie's hips and her lips pressed against Ellie's.

Ellie knew you liked her, it was impossible not to tell. Your eyes would light up whenever she walked into the room. She refused to give in to you. She could feel your eyes on her, they always were on her. Part of her liked the attention, liked entertaining you. She liked knowing everywhere she went there were eyes on her.

It was selfish, no doubt in her mind. Was it wrong for her to want attention from the only person who ever truly saw her for who she really was? She pondered the answer, day and night, but no matter what conclusion she came to, it didn't matter. Not when you fluttered your eyelashes and asked her how her day was like she was the only one in the world that mattered. There was something about you. There always was.

"Y/N!" She called when she noticed your burning eyes on her and Ellie. It was hard to hear her over the music at the party Dina tricked you into coming to but she gestured for you to come over. You debated it for a moment. It made you feel guilty, she was never anything but nice to you but it didn't matter what she did or how nice she was. She was an awful person to you, the girl who stole your one true love.

You walked over reluctantly, you'd feel bad if you ignored or denied her request. "Hey, Cat." You said almost disappointed. You were disappointed, to be honest with yourself. You were disappointed that Ellie wasn't the one to call you over. Your head cleared of any disappointment when you felt Cat's arms wrap around you, embracing you in a hug. "How are you, girl?" She sounded happy, nothing like her usual cool and mellow self.

You look at Cat confused and then at Ellie. "She's drunk," Ellie said, shortly. It made sense now. You nodded and gently pushed her off you. She didn't mind, or even care. Too wasted on pleasure to notice your displeasure. You felt awkward, you didn't know why. Ellie was still your best friend so why did it feel like she was mad at you?

"We should dance!" Cat smiles and tries to take your hands in hers to dance to the shit song that was playing. "Babe, I don't think she wants to dance." Ellie chimed in, using her free hand that wasn't holding her bottle of beer to grab one of Cat's hands. You wanted to gag at the pet name Ellie had called her but at the same time, hearing it roll off her tongue made your stomach twirl with knots.

Cat didn't seem to mind that you didn't want to dance, she just redirected her attention to Ellie, who was just a little more interested than you were. You looked away from the scene in front of you, looking to see if you can find Dina or Jesse. Maybe one of them could take you home. You knew it was pointless though. They were probably drunk by now, sucking each other's faces off before they swear to never break up again.

"Whatcha looking for?" Ellie asks quietly, still letting Cat sway her to the music. You don't answer initially, wanting to spite Ellie, but she did nothing wrong. It wasn't her fault that you were never going to be anything more to her than her best friend. "Jesse or Dina." It was blunt and short, just like how Ellie was when you first walked over.

“Why?” She asked, but she felt like she shouldn’t of. "They're my ride." You gave up on your search, looking back to Ellie, who now had a drunk Cat swaying her hips to the music. "You're leaving?" She seems disappointed and glad all at the same time. She was always so hard to read. Ellie knew you weren't a fan of parties. The boys that catcalled every girl that walked past them, the loud music and the even louder drunks, the sweaty atmosphere, everything that a party had, you hated.

"Can't find them, so guess not." You couldn't recall a time when you were actively this cold to your best friend, whom you were madly in love with. There was no fight, no dramatic reveal of feelings to cause a falling out, and no dirty looks, so why were you both acting like you barely knew each other? Maybe it was a defense on both parts or maybe it was just stupid young adults being stupid young adults.

"That sucks." You couldn't tell if she was genuine. "What sucks?" Cat chimed in, suddenly interested in the conversation. "She can't find her ride," Ellie explained to Cat. She was always so gentle with her. It made you physically sick. Ellie was always sarcastic or, honestly, a little demeaning when it came to you. Maybe that was your first sign that Ellie would always be out of your reach.

Cat pouts at this revelation. She turns to you and pats your shoulder, offering her shitty excuse of comfort. "Don't worry, girl! You'll find them!" She drunkenly and optimistically smiled. You doubt you would find them, at least not until the end of the night when you'd probably have to call an Uber anyway. You nodded at her as she continued to dance, no longer interested in the conversation.

"How is Dina, by the way? I haven't really spoken to her recently." She said nonchalantly. Truthfully, you didn't know why they hadn't spoken. Did you even care? "She's good." It was simple and plain but it seemed to be enough to satisfy Ellie. "And how are you?" She asked. It caught you off guard. You didn't expect her to ask about you. The simple question almost made your heart flutter back to life. "Yeah, I've been good too. Thanks." There was a small smile on your face now. Maybe there really was no reason for you to be cold with Ellie.

She nodded at you, awkward as always. That will never change about her. You get lost in your thoughts, wondering if being awkward will never change about her, what will never change about you? Probably your love for her. That will last a lifetime, a thousand lifetimes even. "I'm gonna get another drink." Cat chimed in and before Ellie could stop her she was already stumbling to the drink table. "She can't handle her alcohol." She snickered and looked down at her shoes.

"Neither can you." She adds, suddenly categorizing you with her girlfriend. "Yeah, there's a reason I don't drink at parties." Your body is less tense now that Cat is all the way across the room. You feel more at ease when it's just Ellie looking at you, you always do. Ellie can still see your discomfort though, she determines it's probably the loud music. "I can take you back to your dorm if you want." She offers, it seems she's less tense now that Cat isn't bothering her too.

"You've been drinking." You gesture to the beer bottle in her hands. "I bet Jesse and Dina have too." She retorts. She's not wrong, they're probably way drunker than she is right now. You consider the offer for a split second before realizing you have Jesse's car keys. Even if you wanted to leave, you'd have to find them first and probably walk in on something you have no business witnessing. "I have Jesse's keys." She seems disappointed by your response.

"That sucks." It's the same phrase she said before but this time it sounds like she actually means it. Here she goes again, unknowingly playing with your heart. That's the thing though, she did know. She knew everything she said had an effect on you and she played you like a guitar. It was wrong of her, especially to do it for her own entertainment but she already knew there was a seat in hell with her name on it.

"Wanna go somewhere quiet then? I know you hate loud noise." For the first time that night, maybe even days, Ellie's voice was compassionate. "You don't have to do that." You spoke, trying to shut her out for a reason you couldn't come up with right now. She didn't listen though. Her hand was on your back, leading you through the crowd of sweaty people into the bathroom.

With the door shut, the music and the chatter weren't so loud. You could almost hear yourself think now. Ellie placed her beer on the sink counter. "Better?" She asked and leaned against the door, looking at you. "Yeah... What about Cat?" She'll be drunk and alone out there with Ellie in here with you. "She'll be fine." Would she though?

You leaned against the counter, careful not to knock her beer over. Thoughts raced through your mind but they all stopped when you felt Ellie push some of your hair out of your face. You looked at her, you didn't know what to say. Should you thank her? You choose not to say anything, just giving her a small nod to show her you acknowledged the action. "You're pretty, y'know?" Once again all of your thoughts stopped at her mere comment.

"What?" You asked, it was unlike Ellie to compliment you, especially knowing she had a girlfriend. "I don't mean it like that. I just mean.. go and put yourself out there. Stop gushing over me. There's plenty of girls who want you." She knew you had a crush on her? Of course, she knew. Everyone knew.

"Yeah, like who?" You try to play cool, trying to ignore her comment where she flat out told you she was never going to like you back and that you should just get over her. "What about Macy? She seems nice." She suggested. "Yeah, too nice. She has to be up to something." You deflected. "Fine, what about Karla?" She suggested again. "She's too loud." You deflect again. "Jazmine?" She asks with a sigh. "Too quiet."

She looked at you with a dim look in her eye. "Now you're just being picky." It was true, you were being picky. None of them would ever be Ellie, so none of them would ever suffice. "They're just not you, Els." The words leave the tip of your tongue in honesty. You never thought you'd be admitting to having feelings for Ellie to her in a bathroom at some frat boy's house party.

She looked at you blankly for a moment, pondering your words carefully. "Is that so?" She said with a cocky smirk on her face. You groan and push off the counter. "Shut up." You stand in front of her. She looks out at you, no words leaving her mouth but it felt like she was saying so much. Before you could even say anything to her, tell her you were just joking around or that you'll get over her in due time, she pulls you close to her. Her hands on your hips, her lips centimeters away from yours.

It's silent. The music and the chatter from the partygoers don't exist anymore. The only thing you can hear is your heavy breathing mixing with hers. “What are you doing?” Your voice is no louder than a whisper. "Isn't this what you want?" She matches your volume. "And Cat?" Her face gets closer to yours. Her eyes flicker from your eyes to your lips, your eyes to your lips, to your eyes to your lips. "Who cares about Cat?"

Her lips are on yours in an instant. Her words tingle through your skull and seep into your brain. You kiss her back with as much force. It feels surreal. This is definitely a dream, you convince yourself. Except it's not. Ellie knew this was wrong. Was it the cheating part of the kissing her best friend part? She didn't know, and she didn't care. If it was bad why did it feel so good?

Her hands found their way into your hair, roughly pulling it in between her nimble fingers. She pushed your head closer to her, almost attacking your face with her lips. Her other hand roamed over your body, stopping at your jeans. She smirked into the kiss as she began to unbutton your pants with one hand. You gasped as you felt it and she didn't hesitate to use this to her advantage and slide her tongue into your mouth.

You felt hazy like Ellie was a drug and you were overdosing. The sound of your zipper being unzippered almost makes your knees weak. Was she finally giving in to you? She jerked your pants down as best as she could with one hand. Your pants and panties being manhandled down your legs. She only pulls them halfway down your thigh before she eagerly presses her cold fingers against your clit.

You moan into this kiss as her fingers pleasure you furiously. You instinctively held onto the counter, your knees too weak to be held up on their own. Your slick coated her fingers as she rubbed through your folds, she chuckles lowly into the kiss. She was amused by you, how eager you seemed to let her cheat on Cat with you. It was almost as if you didn't care at all. "Be a good girl and get on your knees, yeah?" She pulls away from the kiss with heavy breath, unbuttoning her own jeans.

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#! ☢ ₊˚✧ tlou .#ellie williams #ellie williams smut #ellie williams x reader #the last of us #the last of us x reader

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