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fandom-imagines-stories · 7 months

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Running in the Dark

Matt Murdock x Reader

Words: 4139

Summary: The reader’s work as a decoy for one of Matt’s clients puts her in some hot water with her boyfriend- as well as a jealous ex-husband who has connections more dangerous than anyone could have imagined.

Notes: This one honestly came about when I was walking around my campus at night. I literally pictured Matt watching over me from the top of the Humanities building. Yes, I am doing fine, how are you?

Warnings: Violence, general peril (I just love making the reader get herself into trouble, don’t I?)

More Matt Murdock: HERE

You knew he was there. Your eyes scanned the rooftops of the buildings enclosing you. Even though you couldn’t see him, you could feel him. Standing. Watching. Waiting. You could practically hear his frustrated pacing, his furious objections.

“This is a bad idea. There are other ways. Safer ways. You don’t need to do this.”

All things he had said before tonight.

But this was about more than just playing decoy so a woman could be free of her abusive ex-husband.

This was about what that piece of shit could do for them.

You may not have been able to hear him, but you knew he could hear you. So, as you pulled Nancy Bartman’s door closed and your hood further over your face- careful to let your hair show- you muttered up at the figure hiding in the shadows.

“Back. Off.”

Your phone buzzed in your pocket. You ignored it.

Jogging at night in Hell’s Kitchen alone was a risk all on its own. Every alley you passed seemed to lurk with some unseen threat. Every shifting sound put you on edge.

God, you were turning into Matt.

You turned the corner to the street where Detective Morrow was waiting in a dark Sudan. If this didn’t work, everything could go back to square one. They had to catch this guy. You had to catch this guy. He knew something. Nancy wouldn’t say what, but you could tell she was holding something back. Bartman was the key. You could just feel it.

The Sudan crept forward, keeping far enough away to not look suspicious, but close enough to give you a crumb of comfort.

You could do this.

“Promise me you won’t do anything stupid.”

“Says the one who misses date night to go after crime bosses.”

You couldn’t wait to see the look on Matt’s face when this was over. His mild annoyance of being wrong overshadowed by pride. Proud that his girlfriend had made a difference. That you had not only helped a woman in need but also got them one step closer to catching the bigger villain here. Fisk.

You could do this.

A hand pulled you into the alley.

“Did you think it would be this easy, Nance?” Corey Bartman hissed into your ear, pinning you against the brick. “Did you think you could just leave me like that?”

You lifted your head, letting your hood fall back. “You’re never going to hurt your wife again, Corey,” you spat.

The man’s eyes widened, then filled with rage. “Why you little bitch-”

You heard the flick of a switchblade.

“Corey Bartman, you’re under arrest!” Detective Morrow’s boomed.

Corey flipped you around, arm across your chest, and switchblade at your throat. Morrow raised her gun, as did the other cops.

No no no, you needed him alive.

“Drop the knife, Mr. Bartman,” Morrow ordered. “This is not how you want this to end.”

“Don’t be stupid, Corey,” you muttered, trying to swallow without cutting yourself. You lowered your voice to a whisper, your words meant for a different presence. You could feel him, looming from one of the above rooftops. If Corey went any further, he would reveal himself and that would be a whole other problem. “Don’t do anything stupid.”

“What did you say to me?” Corey snapped, tugging you closer. The blade dug just enough into your neck to break skin. You winced.

Matt would smell the blood.

“Don’t do anything stupid,” you said again, hoping he would listen.

“You can come back from this, Mr. Bartman,” Morrow said. She stepped closer, eyes meeting yours. “But not if you hurt her.”

You gave her a small nod, feeling the blood drip down your neck.

Bartman gripped you, his hot breath on your ear. “This isn’t over.”

He let you go.

You couldn’t help the sigh of relief, pushing yourself away from him as Morrow pushed him against the wall and cuffed him.

“You okay, Y/L/N?” She asked. “Theo, call a bus!”

“No, I’m fine,” you said. “Really. It’s just a scratch.”

She handed Morrow off to another officer to put him in the car. “Are you sure? That looks like it hurts.”

“Nothing a little whiskey won’t help,” you smirked.

“Yeah well, go get yourself a drink then.” She gave you a smile and put a hand on your shoulder. “You earned it.” She started to walk away, turning back. “I expect you bright and early at the station to give a statement though.”

You gave her a mock salute. “Yes ma’am.”

Morrow joined the rest of her team. You sagged back against the wall.

“I know you’re there,” you breathed out.

A gloved hand pulled you further into the alley, out of sight from the others. The hand lifted to your neck, just below your new wound.

“He hurt you,” Matt growled. His other hand held onto your arm, holding you to him. “Morrow shouldn’t have let it get that far. He could have…” Matt trailed off. What if Bartman had done worse? What if he didn’t have time to stop him?

“Hey,” you said softly, laying your own hand on his cheek, feeling the fabric of the mask under your fingers. “I’m okay.” You checked to make sure no one was coming, then brought his lips down to yours. When you pulled back again, you were smiling. “We got him.”

Matt couldn’t help but return your grin. “You got him.”

“I told you I would.” You poked his chest teasingly. “It was unwise to doubt me.”

“I never said I doubted you.”

“It was heavily implied,” you laughed, making yourself wince from the sting in your neck.

Matt’s expression softened under his mask. “Come on. We should get that cleaned.”

You didn’t argue this time, letting him lead you back home.

It had been a long night for both of you. By the time you got back to Matt’s apartment, exhaustion sagged in your shoulders and weighed in his steps. You breathed in the familiar air like you were drinking water in the desert. Matt’s hand found the small of your back, guiding you to the couch while he grabbed his first aid kit.

“Really, Matt, it’s just a scratch,” you insisted.

He didn’t listen, finding a cloth to dab at the now-drying blood on your neck. You winced a little, the alcohol stinging the open cut.

Neither of you said anything. The silence hurt more than the cut did.

“I know you’re upset,” you started softly. “But I told Nancy I would help to keep her safe. Now, she is.”

Matt stayed quiet, putting the kit away.

“Matt, please. I knew what I was doing.” You reached for him, fingers grazing his arm. “And I knew you were there, watching over me. I knew that I was safe.”

In one quick motion, Matt pulled you into his arms. It almost felt like he was shaking.

“Don’t scare me like that again,” he whispered into your hair. “Please.”

You sat, shocked for a second. Then, you wrapped your arms around him, running a soothing hand up his back.

“I’ll try my best,” you teased, pulling away to look into those perfect dark, unfocused eyes. “I’m okay, Matty.”

Matt’s hands cupped your face, gently bringing your lips to his as if to remind himself you were here. You weren’t hurt, not too badly anyway. He hadn’t lost you. You were here.

“I’m okay,” you said again against his lips.

Matt pulled you into his lap, your legs on either side of his hips.

“We should get some rest,” he murmured, resting his forehead against yours. “I’ve got a big day tomorrow thanks to you.”

You bit your lip to contain your giggling. “You’re welcome.”

Matt’s hand found the back of your head, tangling his fingers in your hair.

You leaned into his touch. “You’re right, though.” You pulled away from him, smirking. “We really should get some sleep.”

His head fell back against the couch, a deep chuckle rumbling from his chest. Matt listened as the zipper of your sweatshirt, the fabric brushing over your skin as you took it off, walking toward the bedroom.

“Are you coming or not?” You asked.

In a blink, Matt was on his feet and following.

Tangled limbs, sweat-stained sheets, and the memory of sighs filling the space enveloped you as you fell asleep. Matt kept his arms around you, as if afraid you’d run off and do something stupid. Not that sneaking out was ever an option with him. The problem with dating someone with enhanced senses. An overprotective someone who didn’t like it when you did your job because it occasionally put you in dangerous situations. Dangerous situations that you were perfectly capable of getting yourself out of.

These were the thoughts running through your head as you stared up at the ceiling, Matt’s head against your stomach, his arms draped around your waist.

Then, Bartman crept into your mind. And with him, came Fisk.

Fisk.

Bartman could have papers, maybe even whole files tying him to Fisk’s operation. But they would be at his apartment. The apartment that now lay empty with its inhabitant locked up. But Fisk would send someone… if he hadn’t already.

You sat up slowly, trying to keep from moving Matt’s arm too much.

If you could get to the apartment first, if you could find something, anything that could incriminate Fisk, you could wrap this up tonight. In and out under the cover of dark. Easy.

“Where are you going?”

You flinched. Maybe not so easy.

Matt sat up beside you, kissing your shoulder. “Hmm?”

“My apartment?” God, even if he didn’t hear your heartbeat, that was unconvincing. You started to stand, but Matt gently grabbed your arm.

“You want to go over there,” he said softly.

You sighed. “There’s a lot of information just ripe for the taking.”

“So breaking and entering, theft, and pissing off a guy who beats his tenants into leaving is your plan?”

“Well, I think we’re well past the pissing him off stage,” you said.

Matt frowned.

“All the more reason you need to stay here.” He moved closer to you, but you stood up. If he held you, you would let him. And you needed to work.

“I can’t just let this lie, Matt. He hurt people. Innocent families. And he did it all for Fisk.” You ran a hand through your hair, gathering and putting your clothes back on. “We have a chance to take them both down.”

Matt stood as well, putting his hands on your arms. “You’ve done enough. You helped them catch Bartman. Let the detective do the rest.”

You pushed him away. “You mean let you do the rest.” You crossed your arms, keeping just out of his reach. “You don’t get to lecture me about being safe when you go out there and do the exact same thing.”

“Because I know how to take care of myself, Y/N,” Matt fired back. “You go out there, unarmed and unprepared and you might as well be digging your own-”

“I am not helpless!” You screamed, cutting him off. “I don’t need protection, I don’t need to be coddled, and I don’t need you.”

As soon as you said the words, you felt them sink in, watching Matt’s face fall. He took a breath, squared back his shoulders, and his features hardened again.

“Fine,” he said, concerningly calm.

You were shaking from the raging mix of emotions inside you and it infuriated you to know that he could tell. He knew every tick, every clue to how you worked. And you knew so little about him.

“Fine,” you snapped. You turned, grabbing your keys.

“Y/N, wait-” Matt started, his voice tinged with worry.

But you were already gone.

The sun hadn’t yet risen and the streetlights gave the world a menacing, muted yellow glow. You walked with your arms crossed over your chest, hands tucked under your arms to ward off the cold, and your sweatshirt hood pulled up. You couldn’t shake the feeling that you were being followed and it made you shiver more than the early morning air.

“I swear to god, Matt,” you muttered to yourself, but, of course, there was no answer. You kept walking, head down and eyes searching. It wasn’t hard to find Bartman’s apartment again. You’d gone over it so many times with the detective that it felt like you’d been there a million times, even if you had never set foot inside.

You went down the list, pressing each buzzer until someone let you in. It surprised you a little. After everything Bartman had put his tenants through, you expected them to be a little more cautious of who they let in. Maybe they didn’t have the energy to care anymore. After all, if the evil comes from within, what outside could be worse?

Going up the stairs, that creeping sense that made your hair stand on edge never went away. It was like someone was following right behind you, breathing down your neck. This wasn’t Matt. That was for sure. When he followed you, leaping from rooftop to rooftop, you knew it was to keep you safe. It wasn’t overbearing or dark. As annoying as it was sometimes that he didn’t trust you could take care of yourself, you always felt warmth in his presence. Like nothing could happen to you.

This feeling wanted to hurt you. It wanted you scared. It wanted you to run.

You picked the lock to Bartman’s apartment quickly and slipped inside.

Everything was dark and the heater rattled and sputtered, doing little to warm up the frigid room. Many of the light fixtures lacked bulbs, probably to save on electricity. He was cheap with his building, so you weren’t entirely surprised to find he skimped on his own living situation. Besides, Fisk probably promised him a palace compared to this place.

You turned on the flashlight on your phone and swept over the various, disgusting surfaces. You didn’t want to know what most of the stains on the tables and counters and floors were. When Fisk found men to do his dirty work, they certainly were dirty.

Through the mess, you found what looked like it could have been a desk in another, cleaner life, and started going through the drawers. All you needed was something, anything that could connect Fisk’s companies and accounts to Bartman. Even if it was just a simple check, it could be enough for a warrant or at least an investigation into Fisk.

As you rummaged around, the door clicked open and shut behind you.

“I was hoping I’d get to see you again.”

Your shoulders tensed. Your hand slowly reached for the taser in your pocket.

“It was a clever trick, you know.” Bartman stepped toward you, flicking on one of the lamps that retained their bulb. “You look like her.” He took another step. “You’ve got that same bitchiness when you walk. Like you’re better than everyone. Better than me.” He ran a thumb across his bottom lip. “Still… you just happen to be my type, sweetheart.”

“Stay away from me, Mr. Bartman.”

“You pretended to be my wife, you can at least call me by my first name.” He held out his hand with a mocking grin. “Jerry Bartman. I would say it’s a pleasure, but it won’t be for you.”

You backed away, but your back hit the desk behind you.

There was nowhere to run.

Shit.

“Who made your bail, Mr. Bartman?” You asked pointedly.

He just chuckled, looming over you. “I’ve got friends in high places, little girl.” His eyes fell behind you to an envelope sticking out of the bottom drawer.

Bingo.

“Thank you,” you said, regaining a little of your confidence. “For being such an idiot.”

You jammed the taser into his side, listening to it crackle against his flesh. He yelped and stumbled backward, giving you enough time to grab the envelope and dart for the door.

His hand caught your ankle first, yanking you to the hard, uncarpeted floor. You landed on your right arm and felt something crack. Your scream was cut off by a kick to your stomach.

“You…. little… bitch…” Bartman gasped out, holding his side with one hand and pulling back for another hit with the other.

The door opened.

Bartman looked up.

The shot.

The blood.

The body landed on top of you with crushing force, knocking the scream out of your lungs.

As the tears cleared from your vision, you saw the man standing over you, dressed in black, with an indifferent expression painting his features. You scrambled to push Bartman’s lifeless form off of you.

“Shame,” he said. He sounded bored. Like your life was little more than a nuisance he had to deal with. “And you’ve been so helpful getting him out of our way.”

He raised his gun.

Not knowing what else to do, you ran towards him, ramming into his ribs with your shoulder and making your arm scream from the secondary impact. He grunted and the second gunshot echoed through the apartment, finding its mark in the lamp bulb, shattering the only light in the apartment.

You were plunged back into darkness, but so was your attacker.

Remember what Matt taught you. Feel the air move. Listen to the smallest sounds. And never, ever let your guard down.

A stumbling step signaled you to the man’s swing, allowing you to dive out of the way before his fist could collide with your already sore ribs.

“What the hell?” He hissed. He reloaded his gun.

You kept low and moved quickly, holding your throbbing arm against your torso. Judging by the thundering steps and the sound of him stumbling into things, Bartman’s killer was completely blinded by the dark.

You ducked into the hallway and found it almost as dark as the room before. Someone had shut off the lights to the whole building. The only light was the EXIT sign at the end of the hall, tinting everything in a deep, menacing red. You could hear Mr. Trigger Happy still coming after you, and debated between your two escapes; down the stairs to hide on one of the lower floors, or out onto the faster fire escape, but left you exposed.

You ran to the red sign.

A quiet scream escaped your throat, a hand grabbing your arm and pulling you away from the exit. Your mouth was covered by a hand before you could scream again. Your back hit something firm behind you and an arm locked across your chest, holding you tightly.

“It’s okay, it’s okay it’s me,” Matt whispered, his breath hot against the back of your neck, breathing heavily like he’d run here. “I’ve got you. You’re okay.”

You whipped around, his arms wrapping around you, caging you safely in his embrace.

“Matt,” you gasped, voice low so only he would hear. “They killed him. Fisk. He sent someone. He killed Bartman.” You shook in his hold, turning your head to try and look down the dark hallway. “There has to be more of them. We need to get out of here before they come.”

Matt gently pushed you back, one hand firmly on your shoulder, the other gentle, softly tracing down your cheek. He could feel your heart racing, your broken bone scraping against itself, your cracked ribs creaking with every scared breath. Every sound only amplified in his chest.

“Where is he?” He growled, feeling his anger bubbling over.

“He isn’t important,” you said, a small smile breaking through your panic. You held up the envelope. “I think I found something. Bartman didn’t want me to find this and, clearly, this creep didn’t either.”

Matt shook his head, the black fabric of his mask molding to his hard expression.

“Did Fisk’s man see you?”

You swallowed.

Your silence was enough.

Matt moved you behind the wall, concealing you in a dark corner, and started back toward Bartman’s apartment.

“Stay here,” he said.

“Like hell,” you snapped. Tucking the envelope into your back waistband, you hurried after him.

Matt turned, jaw tensed and tone dangerous. “Get out of here, Y/N. Go home.”

“What, so you can beat the shit out of some guy who shot at me?” You put your good hand on your hip. “I’m not going to hide. I want to finish this. Nancy Bartman deserves to stop being afraid. We all do.”

Matt pushed you behind him.

You grimaced, the spreading pain in your arm worsened by the sudden movement.

“Really?” The hitman scoffed. “If I had known you’d be joining the party, I would have been quicker with the lady.” He smirked at you. “Friends in low places, huh?”

“Fisk has you,” you glowered, stepping out from behind Matt, “I have him.”

“Two birds-” He aimed at Matt’s head. “One stone.”

Matt moved like a bullet, knocking the man back, twisting his arm to an unnatural angle, and kicking the gun across the floor all in one fluid series of actions.

You didn’t waste time, picking up the gun and turning it on its former owner. Matt kept him on the ground, knee between his shoulder blades. You pressed the barrel against his temple.

“Why did you kill Bartman?” You asked.

“You know, if you wanted to get me going, you didn’t have to bring your friend.”

Matt dug his knee down.

The man cried out.

“Why did you kill Bartman?” You asked again, already knowing the answer.

The assassin glared up at you, his eyes glowing in the red light. “Loose end. Just like you.”

“Why does Fisk want this building?”

“He made a deal.”

“So you do work for Fisk?” You pressed the metal harder against his skin, a small victorious rush coursing through you enough to ignore the screaming in your arm.

He jerked suddenly, lunging for you.

Matt slammed the man’s head against the carpet once… twice… The man stopped moving, though you could see his chest rise and fall faintly.

“Did you hear that?” You exclaimed. “Of course, you heard it.”

Matt didn’t say anything. He just grunted as he got the man up, pulling him back to the apartment and laying him beside Bartman’s dead body.

“Call the police. I’ll make sure they find him here.”

You did as he asked, saying that you were a neighbor and heard all the noise. He called Claire so she could be at the apartment to treat your arm. Then, you followed Matt up the roof where he could listen for the police to come. He didn’t say a word to you the entire time.

You could feel the anger tensed up in his shoulders and it wasn’t from the fight. This was a different anger, one that wasn’t violent or loud or could be worked out by hitting something. This was anger that came from one thing: fear.

“I didn’t think they would come after him tonight,” you said softly, “let alone pay his bail and send him home.”

Matt’s covered face stayed turned away from you.

You took off the mask. “Matt, please.” With a hand on his cheek, you made him face you, staring into his beautiful, unstarring eyes. There were tears in them.

“When I heard the second gunshot…” He whispered, voice cracking.

A shot of guilt splintered through your chest.

But you weren’t going to back down.

“I know you think you are the only one who can face all of this, but you aren’t,” you said gently, but firmly. “You aren’t alone, Matt. We have to be partners if this is ever going to work.”

Matt sighed. He listened to your heartbeat, reminding himself that it was still beating. You had made it through, even if he thought he’d been too late. You did that. He slowly brought your lips up to his, careful not to move your arm too much.

When you both eventually pulled back, a small smirk spread across his face.

“You know, when you were standing there, gun against that guy's head, even I was a little intimidated,” he chuckled.

“Right? I can be a badass when I want to be,” you snickered, laying your head on his shoulder. You turned so you could see his face, lightly kissing his jaw. “We make a pretty good team. Maybe you should let me go out with you…”

Matt laughed, the sound turning less amused. “Don’t push it.”

He wrapped an arm around your shoulders and you held your injured arm in your lap as he held you. The two of you sat and waited for the sirens and lights to break through the dark of the night.

Hey look, I remembered the tag list this time!

General Tag: @rae-gar-targaryen; @takemepedropascall; @childhood-imagination; @mylovegoesto; @yellowbadgergirl; @itmejado; @suckmyapplejacks; @kendahl0216; @yellowbubblewrap

#matt murdock #charlie cox #matt murdock x reader #daredevil imagines #daredevil #marvel #daredevil born again #daredevil netflix

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msfantasy · 1 year

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Stickwitu

Summary: Sebastian is heart broken, and the power couple give some words of advice

Ominis Gaunt x Reader

Yet another break-up occurs within Hogwarts. A heartbroken Sebastian slumps on the couch, absolutely torn over his latest date.

"I just didn't think it through." Sebastian says at you pat his back gently in comfort. A frowning Ominis turned off towards the common room fireplace, looking utterly disinterested.

"You said you didn't love her anymore didn't you?" Sebastian groans at your words.

"Yes, but that was before I knew what I had. She was perfect in every way... now Garreth bloody Weasley has her." His pout continues as you rub comforting circles into his back. "I'm sure you two know what I mean? Surely one of you had doubts about one another." You place your hand on Ominis knee giving it a light squeeze.

"Sebastian ... there will always be someone theoretically 'better', but I know I have a good thing right here. There is no one that will love me better, and there is no one I'd rather be with than Ominis." Sebastian gags at your sweet gesture.

"What about you Ominis? I know for a fact you had your doubts." Ominis hand grips tightly around your arm, knowing the surge of panic that ran through his body. You begin to laugh at his moment of stress.

"Do not misconstrued my words. I am not joining your single-mens club." An irritated Ominis huffs looking off once again. "Unlike you, I am quite capable of communicating with my partner on matters of concern. I find your ability to listen to ones criticism to be quite pitiful. Perhaps you should work on being a gentleman and not concern yourself with what she is not doing." Sebastian leans away with a slight gasp.

"What are you talking about? I am a true gentleman." Ominis snorted at his words.

"A gentleman were you? Were you not demanding her affections whenever it was convenient for you, and proceeded ignore her during our break because 'writing poems and letters are for saps'. I mean really Sebastian, the poor girl sent me an owl just to check if you were even alive." Ominis says in exasperation. Sebastian stood with a slight stomp to the floor.

"Can you believe this Y/n?" He pleads for defence.

"Yes Sebastian... I absolutely can believe it ... how do I say this gently... you're a phenomenal friend, but a terrible boyfriend." Sebastian didn't waste a breath, he left his love-blinded friends on the couch alone. Of course they wouldn't understand what it's like.

Ominis sighs moving and laying his head into your lap. Silence over takes you two as you begin to gently stroke his head. Light fingers brushing his long locks.

A comfortable quiet over takes your time together.

"Just so you know, everyday you make me so happy. You're not doing anything in particular to make me feel that way. It's just your general presences makes everything better. You showed me what love meant. I feel so safe with you, I want to love you and be loved by you forever." He grabs your hand and places a firm kiss into it. "Seeing so many couples breaking up, it just has me thinking about life without you, if I had to, I would be okay, but my days will never shine as brightly, and I will never get out of bed with as much motivation if I don't have you to look forward to." He smiles softly, closing his eyes in content.

Ominis is entirely unaware of how many people have just heard his declaration.

#ominis gaunt x reader #ominis imagine #ominis gaunt x mc #ominis x y/n #hogwarts legacy imagine #ominis gaunt imagine #ominis x reader #ominis x mc #ominis x you #ominis gaunt x you

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mayapapaya33 · 4 months

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A Game of You/ Brief Lives

I'm seeing some people complain about Thessaly in such a way where it implies that they think the narrative likes her? Guys, she sucks on purpose lol. I am begging all of you to pay attention in English/Lit class more often. Wanda is clearly the hero of the story, everyone treating her badly are dicks, it could not be more clear. I love Wanda so much. Thessaly should die in a fire lmfao. (the parallels between her and Esther from Dead Boy Detectives are fascinating, I wonder if they ever met?) All the people giving Wanda shit are wrong; Thessaly, The Animated Severed Face on the Wall, the Moon Goddess, her family, etc.

Death, the most level headed, kind, compassionate character in all of Sandman is on Wanda's side. It's generally bad form to read the author's personal stance from one particular character, but Death is as close to a stand in for Neil Gaiman's personal opinion as we are ever going to see in a story as far as I can tell. She is always who he gives the final say to in terms of morality over every other character, very much including Dream. (We also got Barbie being a ride or die, and the disaster lesbian neighbors Hazel and Foxglove being confused but supportive, and the homeless lady Wanda helped talking about her grandson being like Wanda and how dumb it was that people were so cruel and just because some people are different it doesn't make them bad.) Go read it again.

Neil Gaiman literally talked to his Trans friends about their lives and the stuff that was happening to them and then put it in his comic in 1989! I repeat, 1989! (through to 1996). No, the terms and language aren't all going to match up to 2024, Think, please, I beg of you. He wrote Desire as non binary before that was really a thing "Well why didn't he just use They/Them" IT WAS 1989 PEOPLE!!!!!! (the concept obviously has existed for longer, I'm talking specifically about language trends).

(Characters in stories doing or saying bad things to other Characters does not make the Story Itself racist/ sexist/ homophobic/ transphobic/ etc).

I've also seen people talking about Thessaly and Dream dating, again Dream is making poor life choices, as per usual! I think he was initially attracted by her audacity and strength, and her longevity. Him sulking Byronically and inconveniently in the rain he himself creates to be more moody and Goth about being dumped is meant to contrast sharply with the scene after You Know What happens at the end of Brief Lives. He returns home to the Castle and quietly walks through the corridors, being polite and kind to everyone (freaking them out a bit in the process), he slowly washes the blood off his hands, and collapses into a chair to mourn deeply in solitude and silence. No more drama, no more rain, no more epic windswept shots of him staring pensively into the distance, just true sadness. It's almost like his earlier performance about being upset by Thessaly's absence doesn't actually matter that much in the face of true tragedy.

The first is shallow and dramatic, He's the Prince of Stories, he falls in love at the drop of a hat, but he's bad at maintaining relationships. The Drama is inherent to his being. He IS stories. But in the second situation it's more real, he's more real. The Grief is too much to bear turning it into a story. Dream is being forced to face harsh Reality. After all, like Dream said, stories are how we keep ourselves alive, "If you rob them of their Dreams, if you take away their hope, then yes, this is the truth of Mankind." Perhaps it's also the Truth of the Collective Unconsciousness of Mankind? His path forward was set from that moment on.

#sandman #sandman comic spoilers #dream of the endless #thessaly #wanda #a game of you #brief lives #the wake #neil gaiman #lgbtq community #If I see another uninformed baby queer call Neil a transphobe I'm gonna flip my shit #Man's got at least 1 GLAAD award #probably more #reading comprehension skills #acquire them please #It's fine if the story makes you uncomfortable #feel your feelings #But it's well written and on your side #trans rights

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idiotwhowritesshipstuff · 1 year

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I just gotta say, I really love your work~. Anyway~ can I you do yandere Sonia nevermind and yandere Peko pekoyama dating their darling headcanons? I gotta say I really think sonia has a lot of yandere potential

Very interesting for you to be picking some of the nicher yanderes from the ones I've allowed.

So sorry for how late I am to answer asks, I had a lot of family over then caught COVID (for the third time how am I still alive) so I have either not had much time or have not been in the mood to write until today. I really want to get this request done so this post is more general but I hope you still enjoy.

Mod Monaca

Yandere Sonia Nevermind and Peko Pekoyama dating their darlings headcanons

Sonia as a yandere is an interesting case because the relationship she wants with you is extremely contradictory to how she handles her obsession with you.

Her wish is for you two to have a romance similar to what she sees in the Japanese romance films she watches yet she also wants you to be able to be with her in Novoselic as her partner which means learning the numerous languages she knows and being taught about the military.

Now Sonia isn't ridiculous, she's been trained to be a member of the royal family ever since she was little so she won't expect you to be at her or her family's level immediately and will often cut lessons short as she wants to spend time with you. It's not like you need to be on her level to be by her side, just enough that you can stand next to her since she'll handle the rest.

You're essentially just a figurehead that stands next to the soon to be queen of an absolute monarchy. It's not all bad as ruling a kingdom is something that takes years of experience and just one wrong move can make you hated by thousands so having the Ultimate handle all of it is a bit reassuring but you're stuck just sitting around and looking pretty until Sonia comes over to spend time with you as the servants of the palace keep their distance from you as Sonia can be quite jealous and doesn't like anyone monopolizing your time except her so everyone in the palace is polite and courteous with you but the distance is clear.

Peko as a yandere doesn't believe she can actually date you. She believes that the only relationship meant for you two is that of a master/servant with her as the loyal servant who won't let anyone come near you.

She isolates you from your peers, insisting that they are threats. The only people she backs off on isolating you from are family members you have a positive relationship with, Fuyuhiko and any childhood friends. She'll force them to get away if they try to get you away from her but she'll let them stay if they decide not to question Peko.

Don't expect much support from Fuyuhiko in this situation, in this scenario he's her best friend and supports Peko going off and doing her own thing. He is completely blind to just how messed up you and Peko's situation is and will always be willing to listen to her side before yours.

Despite Peko claiming to be nothing more than your humble servant, she maintains a lot of authority over your life. She firmly believes that she knows what's best for you and will do what she deems is the best way to keep you "safe" even if it upsets you because it is her sworn duty to protect you as your tool.

#yandere danganronpa #mod monaca #danganronpa x reader #danganronpa #sonia nevermind x reader #yandere sonia nevermind #peko pekoyama x reader #yandere peko pekoyama #peko pekoyama #sonia nevermind

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infraaa · 2 years

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Hello, may I ask for a Longan Dragon cookie smut hcs?(bc i am a simp for a litteral cookie and they need more content)Thank you!!!

『sips longan fruit tea… oh aren’t we all. I love this little machiavellian piece of shit』

general smut headcanons — gender not specified

tw // nsfw themes, noncon, breeding, double penetration, cockwarming, possessive behavior, masturbation, sadism

NSFW UNDER THE CUT.

Longan isn't a romantic. God forbid, they don't even know how to carry out a proper date without getting stiff, even if it's like twenty minutes long. Guy gets awkward fast.

One thing that he seems to be good at though is sex. For whatever reason, he can do this and not get awkward.

You see my dears, Longan doesn't make love, they're not a "making love" type of dragon. They more prefer the cute ten minutes like "boom boom bam bam bam bam," you know?

In other words, they fuck.

During their rut seasons, which most commonly occur in the beginning of spring and throughout summer, Longan can't stand being around their partner. They can't even take sitting next to you.

Their sense of smell increases, and they can smell your hormones bouncing off of you like a hyperactive little kid on a trampoline. Bro is going wild at the smell of you. So they do all that they can to isolate away from you.

They don't masturbate. It's messy and embarassing. So they do what any sexually frustrated dragon would do and bottle it up.

However they show this kind of energy in very passive ways.

They manspread when they sit in their throne room. God it's hot too. They'll put their hand to your thigh and gently squeeze it when they're trying to tell you not to get too close and chit chatty with the other dragons if they're around. They'll walk with you with a hand on your hip or your waist, excentuating the fact that they are dog gone possessive as hell.

They do care about you... so much so that they wouldn't mind breeding you if that meant that they could show the dragons that you are theirs.

Making you sit on top of them in their throneb room as you beg for him to either allow you to move or for them to move you as you could feel their two cocks fill you up... all at once.

They enjoy your little whines of needy pleasure.

Longan doesn't really know how to be nice, and as well they don't really care if it's in the middle of the night or if you're busy during the day. When Longan says they're in rut, they are in rut. Clearly an indication that they're horny and ready to fuck. They are mean as hell too in the bed. Rough, tough, and ready to make you scream and shout (and let it all out, annd scream and shout and let it out, and it goes on and on and on and on-)

ok nevermind but ANYWAY-

Loves it when you cry. Whether it be from fear or pleasure or pain. They just love seeing your crocodile tears flood from your tear ducts as they have their way with you.

They also enjoy it when you wear different types of servant outfits... like a maid's dress for example.

Albiet they may seem loveless... they aren't. Remember, Longan does care about their partner. If they didn't, they probably wouldn't be alive to tell the tale of how they met the great Ivory Dragon, with all their mercy. And because they do care, they are also great at aftercare and often look for new things to treat their partner with after such a rough, yet intimate act.

Bubble baths are a must. Something about the warm clean smelling water with you huddled against them makes them smile a little inside... and here he thought love was pointless.

They also really like massages and praise, whether giving or recieving. It's a reminder to not only you but to homself that not only they are good enough, but you. You are also good enough.

#infrawrites #infradelivers #cookie run kingdom #crk x reader #cookie run #infra@212!#crob #x reader #cookie run ovenbreak #longan dragon cookie

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turbulentscrawl · 8 months

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No idea if youve seen it yet but thoughts/opinions on the new surv Matthias that is coming? Do you like his desing or the trailer and what do you think his backstory may be?

If there's one thing I can do in this world, it's run my mouth. Of course I have thoughts ;)

Firstly, the puppet is creepy...but I am glad this survivor leans into the horror aspect of the game so much! I've watched the trailer a few times and I have three ideas about the relationship between Matthias and his puppet. But first, a few general notes from the trailer.

First, Mattias's father was a vintriloquist. He uses the line "a puppet without strings," but we do in fact see the puppet being manipulated by strings at the beginning of the video. "No strings" is relevant only to a shot of the puppet sitting on his father's lap.

Second, I think Matthias likely has schizophrenia. Most of the idv characters have a mental disorder of some sort, and this would fit him for several reasons. The first being that auditory hallucinations are common, and Matthias's father being a vintriloquist may exacerbate his struggles with this. A man who specializes in throwing his voice onto other subjects, with a son who hears voices? His mentioning of "a nightmare" may hint at certain delusions as well, which i'll get into more below. Additionally, though this may be a stretch, people with schizophrenia are sometimes characterized with "unusual movement" which may be nodded at by the shot of Matthias being jerked around by puppet strings.

Third, there was an actual fire at some point (that Matthias either set or took the blame for.) There's a LOT of fire in the trailer, and it's not just symbolic. Near the end we can see part of a newpaper at the bottom of the screen, with the headlines "Major...Accident" and "The Puppet...Collapse" with an image of a building up in flames.

Now for the ideas about the puppet itself.

Matthias believes he is the puppet. With this one, Matthias, for some reason or another, feels replaced by his father's ventriloquism puppet. To cope, he develops a delusion that the puppet is the REAL him, and his human body is the puppet he's controlling. In this theory, I think Matthias damaged his own eye as a form of self-mutilation. Children tend to treat their dolls in a way that mirrors their sense of self-worth. Matthias developed such low self worth that he needed to become the more valued puppet to survive. As a result, the puppet is kept in pristine "health," and Matthias treats his real body--the "doll"--accordingly. With this one, the fire may have occurred before Matthias had fully accepted this delusion and was still fighting against projecting himself onto the puppet. OR, he set the fire to "rescue himself" from a life on the stage. The ending shots with the puppet and Matthias switching places in the box represent him switching which body he identifies as his real one.

The puppet is a surrogate for a deceased sibling/twin. This part hinges on the fact that the doll looks like Matthias but has a different name, "Louis." In this case, Matthias may have caused the fire when he was much younger. His sibling did not survive, and maybe his parents didn't either, and so he's stuck with survivor's guilt and a delusion about keeping his sibling "alive" through this puppet. For this theory, any camera shots of Matthias with two eyes is actually meant to be his sibling (Matthias lost an eye in the accident), and the shot of him setting fire to the puppet is just symbolism for Matthias accidentally causing the death of his sibling when they were younger. This would also explain the symbolism of the puppet being kept in a coffin-like box, and Matthias being in one at the end--he feels like he should be the one who died. The dates flashing at the end of the trailer may be specifically chosen because they have some significance to his sibling, rather than at random to show the passing of time.

Matthias believes the puppet is evil/possessed and is in some way forcing him to do bad things. (This one would likely make him a nod to Chucky in Child's Play, as he was recently added to Dead by Daylight.) The trailer really tries to set it up that Matthias is being tormented by this living doll in some way, but as far as the actual canon goes, netease is rarely that upfront with eldrich and paranormal events. So I think it's unlikely that the puppet is actually alive or conscious in anyway, and instead this is all caused by Matthias's own mind. In this case, he has auditory hallucinations of the puppet speaking to him. His hallucinations are reinforced by his father's ventriloquism, so Matthias is even more vulnerable to the delusion that this puppet is conscious. Maybe he set the fire because it told him to, or because he wanted so desperately to be rid of the puppet that he didn't consider the method and the casualties it would result in. Either way, both he and the puppet survived, but only one of them was unscathed.

As far as his gameplay goes, it's hard to guess what he'll be able to do without being too close to Mechanic or Journalist. But I think it would be neat if he and the puppet existed on the map at the same time, with the exact same stats, but only one can be controlled at a time, similar to the mechanic's doll. BUT as a Hunter, they both look exactly the same, and you only know which one is the puppet when you chair them because it either falls apart or launches immediately. Maybe the puppet and Matthias have to stay within a certain range of one another too?

#turbulentanswers #thanks for coming to my tedtalk

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bookaddict24-7 · 1 year

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REVIEWS OF THE WEEK!

Books I’ve read so far in 2023!

Friend me on Goodreads here to follow my more up to date reading journey for the year!

___

140. Club Dead by Charlaine Harris--⭐️⭐️⭐️

Re-read in 2023!

Screw you, Bill. That's my main takeaway from this one again--my feelings on him being a crap boyfriend remain intact.

I also appreciated Sookie talking about money and how hard it has been for her to keep going and making ends meet. It's weirdly cathartic, especially when we compare the difference of how financially difficult life was in comparison to the financial difficulties of today. But also because I think a lot of the time, in these books (at least in the past), we focus so much on the relationships and the will-they/won't-they themes that we don't focus on the general lives of the characters. I'm excited to see what else comes Sookie's way! So glad I'm doing this re-read!

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141. Tress of the Emerald Sea by Brandon Sanderson--⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

Beyond the romantic idea that Sanderson essentially wrote this for his wife, this was such a fun and clever story full of adventure and hilarious moments. I enjoyed this so much more than I was expecting to, but I shouldn't have doubted because Sanderson's writing always scratches that one little fantasy itch you never knew was waiting to be scratched.

I loved the characters and how they all came together for this memorable adventure. Especially the narrator and how they spoke to us despite their current self not...being the way we expected them to be.

Also, my favourite and obvious theme was how it is a young woman who essentially saves the day. Sanderson's wife supposedly commented on how Buttercup didn't really do much to save her man in THE PRINCESS BRIDE, and I was curious to see what a more modern-day adaptation might look like. I wasn't disappointed because his mc is a badass who did all she could to save the love of her life.

While there were definitely some slower moments in the story, the dialogue and witty commentary will surely bring you back! Highly recommend it to anyone who wants a surprisingly humorous adventure set on another planet's oceans full of unexpected dangers.

___

142. The Encounter by K.A. Applegate--⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

I am genuinely enjoying the heck out of this series!

THE ENCOUNTER is from the perspective of the one kid whose unfortunate actions in book one changed his life forever. Keeping that in mind made this book so incredibly heartbreaking. There's obviously the pain of missing what his reality once was, but seeing his fight to keep the past part of him alive despite his life changing so much made me hurt so much for him. I think his actions during this book were perfectly suited to his age, because he is, after all, just a child.

I really hope we see a better outcome for him in the future. My heart aches knowing that he is the cautionary tale for the other kids in the group.

Yes, these books are fun and full of adventure and I love that they are actually meant to be read in order. But I think that in between those suspenseful moments, the reader needs to remember that these are kids fighting a very non-kid friendly war.

___

143. I Survived the Sinking of the Titanic, 1912 by Lauren Tarshis--⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

As a bookstore employee, I'm enjoying reading these books because I can give better explanations to my younger customers! Also, these are just really fun bite-sized reads.

The titanic was a massive tragedy, so it was interesting to see it from the perspective of a child who had a better chance of actually surviving the sinking (a wealthy child). It made me think of a very, very condensed version of REFUGEE.

If you want a quick and eye-opening snack of history, I'd recommend this series!

___

144. Monster Blood by R.L. Stine--⭐️⭐️

I don't even know anymore. LOL this book was something. Not the worst I've read in the GOOSEBUMPS series, but I do wish it had a bit more character development because, honestly, is it normal for kids who have just met to trust each other so thoroughly in the case of human-eating slime? Would you, as a precocious child, put your life in danger for the random kid you literally just met?

This is why I should have read these as a child. As an adult, my stranger danger alarms are just shining bright like a diamond.

___

145. Camp Damascus by Chuck Tingle--⭐️⭐️⭐️

I went into this book with way too many expectations and that's my fault. I expected a gory and disturbing horror story set in a camp, what I got was a deeply disturbing exploration of the toxic world of cult-like religion that sent gay teens and young adults to Camp Damascus so they could be "cured" by any means possible...even if those means may be out of this world.

The book had it's moments of spook and legitimate chills because some of the language is deeply disturbing. Massive trigger warning for anyone who has trauma related to a religious upbringing. I wasn't raised in this way and I was deeply disturbed.

I wish I'd gone in with no expectations because I think I might have enjoyed it more. Was it fun? Absolutely! But I was very sad to see that it wasn't the setting I was hoping for. I know that a lot of other people will enjoy this book way more, and honestly that makes me happy!

That ending was great though--the explosion of build-up from the rest of the book was well worth the wait!

___

146. Imogen, Obviously by Becky Albertalli--⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

There are only a few books where I can say I related a little too much to the main characters. Usually, it's books exploring my immigrant background, or growing up plus-sized, but this is the first time I've read a LGBTQ+ book where I related so much to the mc and her journey to understanding her sexuality and who she is as a person.

I grew up surrounded by heteronormativity. Any moment in my childhood where I was one step away from realizing my sexuality, something or someone was there to remind me that I can't stray too far. I had a friend who wasn't the greatest of allies and I still believe that set me back a million years. Coming to terms with who I am in my late 20's and early 30's was a massive mind-fuck. Suddenly, I started thinking about all of the signs and moments I ignored so I could stay in my little bubble. Reading IMOGEN, OBVIOUSLY by Becky Albertalli was like having a mirror put up to my face with a character yelling, "I told you so" (and plot twist, that character yelling is my younger self who always argued against me hiding my truth.)

Imogen, the mc, has a friend in this book who is the personification of doubts a new member of the LGBTQ+ community may feel when they finally let themselves step out of the closet. "Am I queer enough? Do I have a right to be queer when I haven't experienced half of the things other people in the community have experienced?" This friendship was toxic and a reminder that every community has its darker side. I wanted to hug Imogen for the doubts this friend seeded in her. But I wanted to celebrate her childhood friend who helped her understand that she is valid.

Yes, there is an incredibly adorable (and quick) romance in this one, but I think more than that, what needs to be celebrated is the support of non-toxic friends, and the personal growth Imogen experienced despite the storm brewing inside of her.

This book was difficult to read because of how incredibly relatable it was and because I know this is also something Albertalli wrote from her own experiences. I often worry about what others think of me when I approach the topic of being a part of the LGBTQ+ community and thankfully, I have some amazing friends who help support me. But I can't help but think of the other kids or younger adults who don't have that support, or guidance. This book could genuinely help so many questioning readers.

Through quick, witty, personable, and deeply emotional writing, Albertalli has created a novel that I recommend to everyone--whether they're a part of the community or an ally. Words and assumptions have more power than a lot of people seem to think.

___

147. Far From True by Linwood Barclay--⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

As always, Linwood Barclay entertained me and kept me hooked. I'm always amazed by the twist and turns and the moments where my jaw genuinely drops because of the reveals.

I'll hopefully be reading the third one in the series soon--I'm curious to see why 23 is so important and who is behind it all! I'm totally reading this series out of order, but book four thankfully didn't spoil it for me!

Onto the next one!

___

Have you read any of these? What are your thoughts?

___

Happy reading!

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graysongayson · 2 years

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this is a character analysis about terra based directly on the symptoms of bpd she exhibits. i am not a professional whatsoever, just someone who really enjoys studying psychology, ESPECIALLY bpd (and yes i do have bpd). if any of this text is misinformed, please tell me!

the trigger warnings for this text are:

- self hatred

- self destructive behaviors (no physical self harm though)

- grooming & general manipulation of a teenager

- children being experimented on (brief reference to terra's past)

a few more notes before we begin:

- sorry if this text treats you like you know nothing about terra it was originally written for my friends who had never watched teen titans before

- i am using the backstory she has in the teen titans (2003) wiki

- the little numbers (¹, ², etc) mean that there's a footnote attached to the sentence! i recommend reading the attached footnote before you progress with the paragraph! (lmao sorry for these this is kind of an old analysis and i should eventually fix these footnote things to make it smoother to read)

- splitting is a thing borderlines do where you flip from idolizing someone and putting them on a pedestal (splitting white) to hating them with a burning passion (splitting black)

- fp stands for favourite person (NOT the same as someone without bpd's "favourite person" as in a best friend or something, this is a whole term specific to borderlines), a person that someone with bpd may be obsessed with both negatively and/or positively

- i tried to avoid repetition but sometimes i summarize the same events in different paragraphs to make a different point about them

1. fear of abandonment

the root of bpd! let's get right into it! when the teen titans meet terra, she isn't affiliated with any group and lives in a cave. she ran away from her kingdom a while ago after being experimented on and given geo powers. soon we learn that she has tried in the past to make friends and find a place to stay, but always ends up causing disasters and ruining everything instead because of her uncontrollable powers. her life is a constant stream of rejections. because of this, she's worried the titans will leave her because of her catastrophic powers. robin figures out her lack of control, and she leaves before anyone can react to that knowledge so they can't leave her first¹. in her 2nd appearance, terra asks beast boy if he'll still be her friend no matter if she did something bad or not. once she reveals she's working for slade, beast boy rejects her entirely, telling her she has no friends. this is like... terra's worst nightmare coming true². the abandonment she feared (from her fp of all people) is real. later on, when she's being overpowered by the titans in a fight, she starts panicking and realizing that she has no more chances left. they're the only ones who trusted her over and over and over again, and she realizes even they are done with her at this point.

¹she immediately assumes beast boy told her secret, showing that she expects to be disappointed by people.

²she splits black on beast boy right here.

2. unstable relationships + splitting

beast boy definitely becomes her fp. she tests his love for her at the end of their date¹ (revealing a very bad thing she did to see if he "truly" cared about her) after the date, she splits black on not just beast boy but *all* of the teen titans. her extreme rage against them in her 3rd appearance is genuine and absolutely makes sense in her mind. the reasons why she split black could be: beast boy didn't respond the way she wanted him to (fp made a mistake and abandoned her when he's meant to be "perfect"); raven not trusting her²; her expecting everything to go wrong because they were being so nice and it DID go wrong, reinforcing that she will never be accepted by anyone; and slade keeping that fury alive and vicious by encouraging her to enact revenge.

¹she wants to confirm he won't leave her by purposely putting him a tight spot to see what he does. she's also hoping he can save her from slade's manipulation without outright saying it. when he fails, she splits black on him.

²terra likely doesn't believe she deserves to be trusted (especially considering she's afraid of her own powers), so raven not trusting her just confirms her own fear of herself.

3. impulsive and risky behaviors

all of her fighting tactics up to her 3rd appearance are over the top and extremely dangerous. she lures a giant scorpion into a dead end with her to smash it with a massive block of stone. she doesn't stop to think about the consequences or if so much brute force is even required (ex: raven needs to forcibly stop her from smashing a supercomputer and making things worse instead of hacking into it), she just does it. 4. intense mood swings her mood swings can be reflected in her powers before being properly trained. she accidentally uses her powers or uses too much intense force mostly when she's afraid, and is very ashamed of this¹. she reacts strongly and sharply to any form of rejection or betrayal such as when she thought beast boy told robin she can't control her powers. when beast boy asks her out, she becomes so overwhelmed with a mix of self hatred² and powerful emotions that she literally just... leaves. she straight up closes the door in his face and then comes back a few minutes later after she sorts out her mood swing³. we've got a LOT of rage from her too, which i'll expand upon in my explanation of number 5, extreme bursts of anger.

¹in her backstory, she was pitied by her people for her lack of control over her powers. she's also been rejected in the past by several groups for causing massive amounts of damage and hurting people.

²self hatred is not stated directly, but terra is being groomed by slade at this point and is literally trying to kill or injure the titans right as he asks her out. she probably felt very guilty in this particular situation.

³she was also disarming the security system if i recall correctly? however i definitely feel like she also needed a moment to chill out, it'd be unrealistic in my opinion if she ONLY left to fulfill the mission and nothing else.

5. extreme bursts of anger

terra quickly becomes and stays furious for a while in several instances. when slade tells her the titans will abandon her if they find out about her secret, she becomes enraged and loses control of her emotions, producing a tornado¹. later at the tower, robin casually mentions that she should train to improve her control over her powers, which makes her freak out on beast boy² and run away in a rage. she's angry at raven when she tells her it's too dangerous to smash the drill machine with a rock. she also gets mad³ when she asks beast boy if he'll still be friends with her even after what she's done, and he tells her she no longer has any friends. in her 3rd appearance, she's obviously furious at all of the titans and attempts to kill all of them⁴.

¹the fact that beast boy comforted her here probably helped solidify an fp relationship.

²she may have split black on him here. could just be a violent reaction to something that terrifies her so deeply though.

³another black split caused by such a solid rejection.

⁴yep, another black split!

6. feelings of emptiness

this one is more implied than shown outright. terra says she's been wandering around for some time (and in her backstory, she's been going from place to place ever since she ran away from home). she also says she constantly fails to find a group of people who will accept her, and is VERY stressed about the titans finding out about her lack of control over her powers. this could obviously lead to a sense of emptiness and identity issues (expanding on this in number 7) due to never attaching to one place or group.

7. identity issues

throughout her whole arc, terra has obvious issues with her identity. she doesn't have a home, family, or friends to help her identify herself. she *wants* to have a clear identity, therefore this leaves her vulnerable to slade's manipulation. he grooms her into believing her "true identity" is vengeful and violent¹. during her 3rd appearance, she monologues about how she has now chosen this path of evil and is aware of it and okay with it². terra is grateful that she now has an "identity", even if that "identity" is just... doing bad things and hurting people. she believes that that's just who she is deep down (a common issue with borderlines is feeling like you're a monster).

¹it's important to note the "not some sad little girl" line when fighting robin (she's outraged at the idea that robin pities her). terra and her brother were experimented on as kids to give them powers so they could be "heroes of markovia" (terra is the former princess of markovia). as she was completely unable to control her powers and only ended up making things worse, people were likely disappointed by her and pitied her constant failed attempts to help. this in turn made her feel pathetic and disastrous. robin trying to give her another chance while she was trying to kill him made her feel like she wasn't a real threat to him, like he had the space to decide whether or not to let her back in. obviously this made her even more upset. she wanted to be anything but pitiful or weak, so she became even more violent, embracing what she thought was her "true identity".

²splitting black on the titans filled her with a blind rage, which is why she thinks she's okay with being slade's "apprentice"(tool).

8. paranoia

terra is TERRIFIED of beast boy telling the others about her being unable to control her powers. when robin casually mentions it, she bursts into fury and storms out of the tower, refusing to even give beast boy a chance to explain¹. she also fakes sleeping to listen to what the titans are saying about her.

¹this may SEEM like overreacting, but for her, it isn't. her uncontrolled blunt powers are very dangerous. terra's hurt people before with them (as it is part of her backstory). she's afraid the titans will reject her if they know about it, since it's happened in the past. so she leaves immediately to avoid that rejection. it's clearly connected to symptom number 1, fear of abandonment.

9. self destructive habits

terra often sabotages herself and her good relationships. in her first appearance, she leaves right after "realizing" that beast boy told robin about her powers, not sparing a moment to think about how robin actually reacted to the information or how beast boy was protesting¹. once she comes back later with control over her powers, she tries to confess to beast boy that she's working for slade within a short period of reconciliation². finally, she fully joins slade and completely severs her friendship with the titans. robin gives her yet another chance and she attempts to kill him³. at the very end, she sacrifices herself to kill slade, a redeeming but self destructive behavior.

¹not trying to say she overreacted or should've done something different, just saying she sabotaged her relationship with the titans here.

²she likely had already split white on him by this moment, and was probably testing him to see how he'd react to such damning information (to prove he either "truly" did or did not love her)(this is sort of projection cause i do "tests" like these often as a borderline).

³connection to the identity issues and splitting here! she wants to be consistent with her "bad" identity, and blowing her last chance confirms it for her. there's also the fact she still had split black on robin, so she felt enough hatred and rage at that moment to go through with it.

if you read all the way to here: wow. thanks! hope you enjoyed it! terra is my favourite borderline character by far so i enjoyed writing this little analysis on her based on her symptoms of bpd.

#terra #terra teen titans #teen titans #dc #terra dc #beast boy #dick grayson #dc robin #raven #self hatred tw #self destructive behaviors tw #grooming tw #manipulation tw #child abuse tw

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tvrningout-a · 1 year

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I GREW UP ON DISNEY | plots & connections for your convenience ♡

featuring: spiderverse muses

these are just some ideas ( some vague, some more specific ) that i'd like to write and that hopefully catch your interest! feel free to like this post if there's a plot/dynamic you'd like to write, and i'll message you about it! ♡(>ᴗ•)

chiyoko hisakawa aka jorogumo of earth 7878a

this scenario! bc oooh conflict <3

in general, be it with canon characters or oc's, i'd really love someone to get chiyo to talk about shiori. she meant a lot to her -- chiyo doesn't casually date, nor does she date anyone that she didn't first befriend over a long period of time. and the thing is!! chiyo never actually got to admit her feelings to shiori. so there's a lot of unresolved feelings concerning her, and i just want someone to get chiyo to talk about it.

shiori was her universe's gwen, so i do think it'd be interesting to see chiyo interact with any version of her. they're different people, but i think chiyo would be wary bc gwen dies in certain universes and!! she's not in a position to handle that emotionally rn

gimme all the mentorships pls and thanks <3 the more i write her in this universe, i do think she'd get along with just about anyone tbh -- she just might disagree with them on occasion, but that's normal and healthy and makes for some fun threads!

big bonus points if her mentor is friends with her mom, yuzusa! i want someone to help her with that awkward situation pls :' )

i love multiverse shenanigans, but i also love the idea of chiyo having regular friends/mentors/etc. who discover she's jorogumo! so gimme that too u3u

ALSO give me her universe's harry!! bc they're supposed to be great friends, but things are weird and strained after the whole green goblin thing!! that wasn't her harry, but chiyo knows it could be one day, and i so badly want to write how that friendship is affected by that knowledge. do they manage to break canon? do they not?? let's find out!!

yuzusa hisakawa aka jorogumo of earth 7878b

i am once again asking for mentorships, but let yuzu be your muse's teacher who very much acts like a momma bear yet roasts them ruthlessly <3

talk to yuzu about chiyo!! the one she lost and the one in front of her!! tell her that's rough buddy but you'll be there for her while she tries to build a relationship with her daughter ;;v;;

i say that like it's going to be all hurt/comfort, and some of it will be, but it's also going to be yuzu snapping and getting angry, telling you to mind your own business. pain isn't always pretty, and yuzu is the prime example of that.

that being said!! gimme the friend that was there through it all -- being bitten, becoming spider-woman, losing her family, becoming jorogumo. gimme the history that allows someone to see how she's changed and pull her back in when she's growing too far away, when she's losing herself. i want it uvu

but obviously i also wanna write people discovering yuzu is jorogumo and going " oh that actually makes a lot of sense " asdfg

what iiiiif your muse catches yuzu visiting a universe where her husband and chiyo are alive, and she's only watching over them!! just making sure they're okay!! but yeah this needs to be addressed and unpacked

miguel o'hara

talk to him about how much they don't really know about anomalies and canon events; talk to him about how maybe he's wrong about miles; challenge him <3

and in challenging him maybe we can get into how he's projecting his guilt onto a kid and is just!! scared!! of failing!! of losing people!! pls oh my gosh

can we pls see miguel as a mentor to somebody? can we pls??

more to be added!

pavitr prabhakar

not to burst pav's bubble, but can we talk about how hard being spider-man is eventually going to get?? can someone warn him??

i do wanna write some pre-atsv stuff with him! like how he must've reacted to there being a multiverse, who he might've met first, etc. i like that stuff when we already know where we're going!

while very likeable, typically any iteration of peter parker is bullied to some extent, and since i'm gonna borrow from pav's comics, i'm gonna say the same goes for him. in the comics, his family isn't super wealthy, and he manages to get into a nice school through a scholarship; between the differing tax brackets and pav's natural talent for things, i'm gonna say the other kids probably alienate him a little more than he lets on. maybe we can explore that? the expectation that pav must be popular and have it easy vs. the reality that he's just like miles and a young peter -- another teen who's still finding his place and figuring everything out.

more to be added!

#miguel and pav's categories are sparse bc my sister's waiting on me ahhh #i'll brainstorm more for them later but if you have your own idea you're free to still like this and toss it at me!!#i just figured i'd type one of these up bc my muse has been so frikkin high for spiderverse stuff :' )#and honestly you don't /have/ to know much about the movies to interact unless you wanna deal with the multiverse shenanigans #but lemme not ramble in the tags asdfg #i gotta go!#i grew up on disney | wishlist

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tenshusuto · 2 years

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//hey donna, resident shady shopkeeper mun who recently joined the fandom last year and has stolen my attention and love for your version of this madhatter. i love having you on my dash and you just know i've followed you on all my blogs -- at least the active ones i currently run lol. you are a breath of fresh air with this urahara guy and trust i've seen so many versions this past decade but i enjoy interacting with yours a lot because you keep that lighthearted, fun yet naughty aspect of him alive and you go out of your way to invade inboxes and troll ppl and we just love that sm xD do continue doing and maybe even up it a notch lol! and it's okay if you don't write as much. just you being around when you pop on is enough to brighten most anyone's day because your muse is most always up to no good and we enjoy that a lot. keep doing what you do and here's to more shenanigans this coming year! <33

Mims, Mims, Mims. Once again you let your chains lose to become absolute and heartwarming inbox sunshine. But sit back, I have a kind bouquet of words for you too. I noticed a recent spree of your lovely profiles lurking about and following but I gladly welcomed all of them with open arms. You're so open and friendly, and you love giving your characters revolutionary development through connections, that's what I see mostly with Starrk. It makes me evenly enjoy seeing you on my dash and participate in chaos or starting some of your own (even when Akon chose to be Kisuke's chronic pain of criticism xD and Rose with Visored lowkey roasting him with whole dating thing, I cried tbh), we all live for those foot in the mouth funny moments. I am generally looking forward to my working schedule improving, so I can write properly and make my time less content-premium. *Me, scratching chin and thinking about how to put it with explaining that I am in this fandom for quite a whiiiiiiiiile but because I am a very PRIVATE and secretive person who hardly ever reveals any Infos that including tag*

Now, then about my road with Kisuke - how should I say this ... it's complicated and longer than this blog says but I still kinda prefer to refer to it as an entirely fresh and new start simply because I liked the sound of as you say new Urahara (rather than almost a decade of trolling in my partners SLs) and to be honest this blog for Kisuke was never meant to go public. It was made for private aest. inventions, headcanons that should have served a different purpose and instead of CC attached to another platform. So, how this happened I have no ideas, something had to be in the air back then. However, I was delightfully surprised to receive a feedback echo that this atypical interpretation evoked interest to the point of actually getting interactions and an unexpecting amount of love. There's no greater joy for writer and a humble, morbid Lady — to hear that their dummy scribbles are appreciated. Thank you so much, you are loved, and may 2023 bring you a lot of happiness and joy! Happy New Year! <3

#mun stuff ;#positivity!#<333 #hangover typos 2023 ;#mun answers ;#ooc.

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nightwish00 · 8 days

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I never understood what people meant when they would say you should date yourself.

Myself? As in going to the movie theaters alone? Going out to dinner alone?

So I did and the overwhelming swarm of anxiety that would flood me as I sat there made me realize how I was a terrible date. Even though I have had amazing experiences going on dates with others so focused on making them laugh making them happy. For the first time I realized I never threw that energy towards myself, the things I told myself “you look like such a weirdo” “ you’re so pathetic” catching all those odd glimpses all of it consuming my brain. I just wanted to shrivel down in my seat. But after reading an amazing I started to read that the reason I was being such a horrible date to myself was because I was not listening to myself, how my body felt, how a my mind was going crazy. I learned that I actually need to stop and connect with my own body. Shoot I don’t even like being in crowded areas! I would rather go to a park I have never been to and wander the trails, I would rather go to the beach bathe in the sun and cool off by swimming, I would rather sit alone in my room pick up my guitar and learn a new song, I want to go to a concert where i can be invisible in a crowd and dance my night away. A large lesson I learned from this book was that most of the thoughts we have are not our thoughts. They are fears that have been taught to us as children, passed down from generation to generation. I can still hear my mom asking me “Aren’t you worried about what they think?” Now I couldn’t care less I don’t even know if they’re even alive or if these people my mom was so afraid of were real.

Rumor has it that there is a full moon tonight and I guess its one of those full moons where you are supposed to release what no longer serves you.

I now release my old fears of loneliness of embarrassment of what my old self believed to be unconventional. I now release my pain that has held me from feeling like I could never deserve love. I release my fear of betrayal, I will now have my heart open to those who come into my life and take them as they are and if they don’t want to be here then I don’t want them to stay. My biggest release, my long yearning of trying to find love in a man, this yearning was something taught to me but has a man ever made me 100% happy? Maybe to an extent but the only person who can make me happy is me because unlike them I can read my mind, I can connect with my body, I can understand me in the deepest level.

Now I am not saying I don’t want a man, having a companion is a different experience a different blessing that I just don’t have the luxury for at the moment. But I do believe that I will find someone who I can better connect with while I do what I love, there’s nothing better than having someone who accepts you for who you are and vice versa. We can love music together, love the ocean together.

I’m so excited about this new chapter especially when it comes to intimacy. I plan to make love in a way that I enjoy and brings me pleasure, to be so vulnerable because I have to much love I have been wanting to give but my fears have held me in a crutch. I am no longer afraid to love and be loved. 💜

Book: Single on purpose by John Kim

You can see the pic right below 👇

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babyboibucky · 4 years

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Obvious

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: You and Bucky are more than friends but less than lovers.

Word Count: 1,700

Warnings: slight angst??? mention of injury???

A/N: Inspired by Ariana Grande’s “obvious” because I fucking love that song lmfao. Let me know if anyone wants to be included in my Bucky Barnes tag list! Will do separate tag lists for everything Bucky and Babysitting Bucky. Feedback is highly appreciated!

MAIN MASTERLIST

---

You and Bucky weren’t lovers, no. But you were definitely not just friends either.

There were kisses early in the morning, while both of you were cuddled in bed basking in the warmth of the sunlight spilling through the thin curtains; soft and subtle touches in the afternoon as the two of you navigated through the kitchen in an attempt to bake together. Slow touches late at night, cold metal fingers grazing you in just the right places that made you feel like on fire. And the exchange of whispers in the wee hours of night after coming down from the high of exploring each other’s bodies, uttered so softly, words meant only for each other to hear.

More than friends indeed, less than lovers? Maybe. Maybe not. Does it matter though? Because even without the words of affirmation, you loved Bucky and was sure that he loved you just as much.

Besides, you were obviously head over heels for the soldier. Not that you were denying or hiding it, in fact, you felt like you showed it a tad bit too much.

“Leaving so soon, soldier?” You’d asked with a pout as you watched Bucky leave your side on the bed.

“Duty calls.” He told you as he began to dress up.

Noticing your frown, he chuckled and approached you on the bed, bending down to press a kiss on your forehead.

“I’ll be back as soon as I can.” He reassured you, smoothening out the crease on your forehead with his thumb.

“But I wanna cook you dinner.” You told him.

The thought of you and Bucky spending a domesticated evening together always elated you. You loved daydreaming about it, about sharing a life with your super soldier. Him coming home after a mission and you making sure to take good care of him. Maybe run him a bath while you prepared dinner. Silly, it seemed but you couldn’t help imagining all the possibilities with Bucky. Letting him sleep in on Sundays while you go on a jog, only to come back home with pancakes and bacons waiting for you in the kitchen. And Bucky of course, fresh out of bed with his hair sticking up in different directions.

Being with an Avenger of course, made it difficult to experience all these things. Sometimes you’d wake up alone but Bucky always made sure to leave you a little note.

I’ll be back soon, beautiful.

His notes found a home in one of your drawers. There were plenty and although these notes symbolized his absence on most days, they also meant promises. Promises to make it up for the lost time, promises that were never broken nor forgotten.

Dinner dates were often postponed, sleepovers a rare occurrence— spending time together in general, wasn’t as easy as it was for other couples out there.

But that’s okay. Because you’d always wait for Bucky. You’d wait for him to come home and even if it’d take him three days, one week, two months or even a year, you’d still wait and welcome him with hugs and kisses and affectionate whispers.

Sometimes you wondered whether Bucky knew how much you loved him.

Disagreements were of course, unavoidable even between you and Bucky. Oftentimes, the arguments would stem from his carelessness and selfless decisions during missions. Your super soldier, always so giving and generous and kind. You couldn’t care less about what others thought of him and his days under the influence of monsters. The moment you knew you loved Bucky, you had already accepted him. And that included his demons and dark days too.

To you, Bucky had always been kind and put others first before himself. Sometimes a little too much that you couldn’t help but feel hurt that he didn’t seem to care how you’d feel if ever he wouldn’t make it home.

If Sam hadn’t called you that night, you wouldn’t have known about the serious injury inflicted on Bucky while on a mission.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” You asked as soon as you barged into the medical bay, ignoring the nurse who immediately scrambled out of the room.

Bucky laid in bed, bruised and wrecked and unable to respond upon seeing you seething with anger for the first time ever.

“Were you even planning to tell me in the first place?” You scoffed.

They needed to infiltrate another Hydra base. Raid the base, get all possible information and blow it up to ashes. But then Bucky found a secret basement at the very last minute, young women and men were kept— future Winter Soldiers. The serum hadn’t been injected into their systems yet, they were merely poor teenagers in captivity. Bucky knew he couldn’t let these young people suffer the same fate as him. With barely a minute left before the bomb was set to explode, Bucky did his best to save everyone in that basement.

Never mind the Falcon’s orders to abort his mission, never mind the back-up they had called for to help them out. Bucky knew the choices he had: walk away unscathed knowing that the back-up wouldn’t arrive in time to save the children, or stay behind and do his best to make sure that no one will become another toy for Hydra to play with.

Even if it meant risking his life, even if it meant leaving you back home unaware of his fate.

“They needed me. I couldn’t just leave them behind.” Bucky explained.

“And you didn’t think I needed you too?” You asked, eyes rimmed with tears.

God, you knew you were selfish for feeling hurt but you couldn’t help it. Did it not cross Bucky’s mind that if he had died, you’d be left behind too? Did you not cross his mind during that time?

“Look, I understand what the superhero life is all about. And I know that it’s fucking selfish of me to say this but...Bucky, I need you too. As much as the world does.”

It was a conversation that you and Bucky had many times now. But with how your love grew for him with each passing second, the thought of losing him, it had become too much for you to suppress.

Waking up without his little notes of reassurance that he’d be back soon, no more cold fingers tracing against the smooth expanse of your skin and having to sleep knowing that the next day, Bucky wouldn’t be there anymore— just the mere thought of losing him broke your heart.

“I can’t...” you breathed out, “I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you, Buck.” You admitted with a shaky sigh as your tears continued to fall.

Bucky wanted to get up and pull you to an embrace, but he was too injured to do so. How we wanted to kiss your tears away, all he could do was extend a hand towards you, inviting you to come closer and touch him.

“I’m sorry.” He mumbled. “I should have told you, I’m sorry. C’mere.”

Despite your anger, you didn’t think twice and immediately went to hold Bucky’s hand, squeezing it tightly as if you were trying to make sure that he was fine and real and that you didn’t lose him.

“Please stop being so reckless. With how much I love you, it drives me crazy whenever you come home all wounded and bloody and now—“

“You love me?”

Bucky had asked the question as if he couldn’t believe that yes, you do love him. Sam really wasn’t kidding when he said how dense Bucky was.

“Is it not obvious?” You asked, wiping away your tears.

“I mean yeah but...I just didn’t want to assume that you do because we never really talked about it.” He explained, rubbing the back of your hand with his thumb.

His metal fingers, although cold and hard against your skin, had always been your favorite. They were gentle when they needed to be, or at least whenever Bucky touched you. They were cold and made you shiver but always in a good way.

“Bucky, I’ve talked about wanting a future with you. You still didn’t think that that was love?” There was a hint of playfulness in your tone despite your deadpan expression.

Oh no, what if you interpreted everything the wrong way?

“Do you not...oh my god, Bucky am I the only one in love?” You asked, panicked.

“Oh god, no.” Bucky immediately clarified as he pulled you to sit down on the bed beside him.

“I love you. So much. Please don’t think otherwise.” He said, cupping your face and wiping away the remnants of your tears.

A smile followed by a quick peck on the lips. Bucky moved and gave you enough space to lay down beside him on the hospital bed. Suddenly, everything felt right. Not that it wasn’t before but with the both of you finally uttering those words, it felt different.

The perfect kind of different.

You laid your head against Bucky’s chest and listened to his heartbeat as his hand rubbed comforting circles on your back. You can’t imagine a life without being this close to him, your super soldier.

“I thought of you, you know.” His chest rumbled as he spoke.

You lifted your head up to look at him in confusion. He smiled at you lovingly, “During the mission. Every mission I go to actually, I thought of you.”

Bucky thought about how you always waited for his return no matter how long he took. He imagined what you’d be doing when he’d come back, would you still be asleep? Perhaps you’d be in the shower, singing. Bucky thought about how he’d kiss you as soon as he comes home, how he’d make you feel how much he missed you and your scent, how your smooth skin felt against his.

Every single time, Bucky thought about coming home to you. It was his motivation to stay alive no matter what. He knew you needed him as much as the world does.

Because he needed you just the same.

More than friends, indeed. Less than lovers? No, you and Bucky were more than that.

You were each other’s worlds.

#bbbwrites #oneshots: bucky barnes #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky x you #bucky x reader #sebastian stan

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the-insomniac-emporium · 3 years

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Bound Blood (Cassandra Dimitrescu/Reader, Soulmate AU) Pt. 5.5 Bonus

Fandom: Resident Evil: Village Rating: T+ for language Warnings: None Summary: Local feral human spends some time with their new family. Four short bits featuring Daphne (Maiden OC), Bela, Lady D, Daniela, and a surprise guest. Enjoy. Previous Chapters: 1: Sharing Is (Not) Caring; 2: Bloodbath, Baby!, 3: Haunt Me Dearly, 4: Portraits For Ghosts, 5: Heart Of The Matter

5.5: Family

“Wait, you’re telling me that you came here willingly?” You asked, mouth agape, eyes wide. It felt like every time you talked to Daphne she had something incredible to say. Which was, of course, why she was your favorite maiden to talk to. That, and the fact that she had adapted so quickly to your ‘charming personality’. So far she was the only servant you had been willing to be honest with. Mainly about your feelings regarding your blood bond, but also just about your relationship with Cassandra in general. Something about Daphne simply made her incredibly approachable. From what you had heard, you weren’t the only one to think as such, with her being fairly popular among the castle workers.

“More of us do than you might expect. Some consider it an honor to serve one of the four Lords, and Castle Dimitrescu is certainly… nicer than either the factory or the reservoir. Personally, I came here for a friend of mine. She, well, had less of a choice. I couldn’t bear the thought of her being here without knowing anyone, so it felt like I only had one option. Can’t say I regret my decision, if you can believe it,” Daphne explained, folding laundry all the while. At the same time, you carefully sort through the not yet washed clothing, separating them into two baskets. After all, you wouldn’t want Lady Dimitrescu to end up with a pink dress! Technically this wasn’t your job, nor did you have a job at all, but you hated having idle hands- especially when talking to someone who was working. At first Daphne had protested, but she had given in upon realizing just how stubborn you could be.

“That’s… impressive. I mean, holy shit, that's a real ride or die friendship right there. Is she, uh, is your friend still, you know, around?” You stuttered, cursing your tongue for asking such a thing. If the answer was no, you were going to feel like a real asshole. Which, admittedly, you had a tendency to be. But this wasn’t one of the times where it was intentional. Thankfully, Daphne is all smiles, and even seems amused by your spluttering.

“Yes, we’re even roommates. Well, us and five others. Possibly with a sixth one on the way, if we ever get someone to fill the empty space,” she replies, pausing to think. Then she’s back to work, refusing to waste any time. “Speaking of roommates… I know I said I’m not one for gossip, and I meant it, but a little songbird told me that Cassandra seems to be in a much better mood these days. Are the two of you, well, getting along? It would be nice to know that soulmates can overcome even the roughest of introductions.” There’s a hint of something odd in her tone, and you take a moment to wonder what she’s (unintentionally) hinting at. Had she met her soulmate, only for things to go poorly?... Before answering her, you make a mental note, deciding to see if any of the other maidens had a scar across their nose.

“It’s not like she and I are dating or anything. We’re just, you know, not hating each other. Currently,” you said, shrugging. But Daphne raises an eyebrow at you, and you find yourself instinctively feeling guilty, somehow feeling small next to the shortest person you knew. “Alright, alright, we might have… Okay we kissed. And promised each other not to die, because having your soulmate die hurts like hell. Also maybe she showed me her mom’s art collection and I made a joke about the titty sculptures because holy shit, this house has a lot of titties.” At this, Daphne bursts into laughter, grinning from ear to ear.

“Amen to that, for sure.”

ii.

“So… fan of science, I see,” you say, awkwardly, bouncing a little on your heels. Next to you is the eldest Dimitrescu daughter, who had unexpectedly joined your table in the library. There were several other places she could have sat, with both more comfortable seating and more workspace, but for some reason she had chosen here. So far she hadn’t said a word. Hell, you hadn’t spoken to her since your first meeting, where she had suggested killing you. Naturally, you weren’t quite sure what to make of her. Something told you that she felt much the same about yourself.

“Fan of oversimplification, I see,” Bela counters, after a few tense seconds. Then she sets down her book- a heavy text about Romanian avian fauna- to give you her full attention. “It would be more accurate to say that I enjoy studying biology, particularly the branch of zoology.” Well, this conversation was certainly… happening. Honestly, you couldn’t tell whether she was legitimately judging you, or merely chaffing you for her own amusement.

“You’ll have to, er, forgive me for being overly broad. Consider it a side effect of my nerves, those themselves being due to our unsavory introduction. In case you don’t recall, you put that sickle of yours into my shoulder,” you reminded, with a sarcastic smile. To your surprise, Bela chuckles at this, almost as if fondly remembering the incident. Seriously, you think, why did my soulmate have to be from this family?

“Staying silent was an option. Perhaps that would have suited you better?” Bela says, now clearly teasing, smile much more genuine than your own. Knowing she had a point, you’re quick to blush, mildly embarrassed.

“Touche. I am curious, however, why you decided to sit next to me in the first place. I certainly wouldn’t have tried starting a conversation if you hadn’t,” you explained.

“Like I said… I enjoy studying zoology,” Bela replies, with a sly grin. It takes you a few moments to understand the intended implications. Once you do, however, you’re giving her a hard stare. Then you scoot your chair a few inches away from her, in exaggerated movements. “Don’t worry, I was only joking. Though you certainly are an interesting human. Much more, hmm, cheeky? Compared to the servants, at least.”

“Somehow I get the feeling that they simply prefer being alive, as opposed to not being as snippy. Except maybe Daphne, now that I think about it. Very sweet, that one,” you muse. “Regardless, I think I’ll return to my book now, for it lacks a tongue, and is therefore less likely to taunt me.” Doing just as you had said, you open the book, holding it a bit higher than what would be comfortable, so that it becomes a ‘shield’ of sorts. Nothing was quite as satisfying as subtle body language.

Accepting your words with a shrug, Bela also resumes reading, turning to a bookmarked page. Roughly an hour of relative quiet passes. Neither of you so much as glance at each other, not even when she drops the pen she had been taking notes with. In the end, you are the one who leaves first, and finally the silence is broken. You give your goodbyes, and Bela returns them politely. Though you do not know it, she sets her book down as soon as you leave, pausing to think about you. Now that things had ‘calmed down’, it was reassuring for her to know that you weren’t always full of spite. Still, you held onto your cleverness (for the most part), leaving her with no doubt about the universe’s decision. You were her sister’s soulmate.

iii.

“It’s official: I’m lost in a creepy castle. The universe hates me. Probably should have realized that sooner, considering how it decided to introduce me to my soulmate,” you mutter, scowling deeply, as you wander unfamiliar halls. How had you even gotten lost? Sure, you had taken a wrong turn, but it hadn’t taken long for you to realize your mistake! Evidently you somehow managed to make another one while backtracking. Now you were standing in the center of the corridor, hands on your hips, desperate for some maiden to come rescue you. What you really didn’t want was Cassandra to find you, because she’d make fun of you for the rest of your life. It’s not like she had specifically joked about you getting lost before. Except that was exactly what had happened.

A few minutes pass uneventfully. There aren’t even any distant sounds of life; no footsteps, nor echoing voices, nor the squeaking of floorboards. All you can hear is your own breathing. As well as the occasional sigh, admittedly. By this point, there’s a part of you that’s starting to panic. After all, there was a chance that the castle was big enough for certain sections to be abandoned. Hopefully that’s not the case, you think, I mean, they’d cut the power to those parts, right? Here’s hoping… With that in mind, you get back to wandering, figuring that you’d have to eventually run into a familiar landmark. Or better yet, someone who actually knew the castle’s layout.

When salvation at last reveals its holy visage, it is not in the form of a lowly servant, rather the muffled voice of none other than Lady Dimitrescu herself. Neither her exact words nor who she’s speaking to is clear. At first, you can’t even tell where her voice is coming from, but you quickly approach one closed door, then another, searching for the source. Several doors later you’re certain you’ve found her. By then you can tell that she’s not alone. Not wanting to seem rude by interrupting, you take a few steps back, leaning against the wall to wait. For the most part you still cannot make out what’s being said, but a few words do reach your ears.

“-expected more from you. How am I-” the voice gets cut off, not by Alcina, rather a sudden gust of air, akin to massive wings flapping. When the speaker continues, they are both louder and angrier. “Someone is listening. Have you not taken steps to ensure our privacy?” Then the door is swinging open, revealing your soulmate’s mother. At first she’s practically shaking with rage, but her expression turns to shock when she sees you.

“What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be with Cassandra?” Lady Dimitrescu asks, clearly stressed, as she steps into the corridor. There’s movement behind her, although you cannot make out any details. Besides, you’re quick to answer her, wishing to avoid her wrath (and that of whoever she was speaking to).

“I’m so sorry, Lady Dimitrescu, I was walking from the dining hall to Cassandra’s studio, and I took a wrong turn. I’ve been wandering for half an hour now. When I heard your voice, I thought perhaps I could, well, enlist your assistance. But you were busy, so I figured I’d wait outside. If I had-...” you pause, gulping, as the other figure steps into view. It’s a face you’re all too familiar with. One that popped up countless times through the village, and again throughout the castle, the owner’s name always spoken with acclaim, with worship. Mother Miranda, in the flesh, wings spreading out behind her, somehow cutting a more impressive silhouette than even Lady Dimitrescu. Instantly you’re falling to your knees, knowing that your sharp tongue was no match for this practical goddess.

“Who is this, Dimitrescu? Why isn’t their blood staining your claws?” Miranda questions, gaze never leaving your trembling form.

“This… this is one of my daughters’ soulmates. They were brought in with the last group of sacrifices,” Lady Dimitrescu explains, uncharacteristically hesitant. ‘Twas a true testament to Miranda’s power, as well as her influence, that she could make someone so powerful seem so weak. Which was exactly why you were shaking with anxiety. But to your surprise, the goddess does not immediately order your execution for your trespass.

“And already they know their place, hmm? Kneeling before me?” Miranda says, a strange smile dancing on her lips. Whatever anger she had been feeling a minute prior had faded, though you couldn’t even begin to guess as to why. Regardless, both Alcina and yourself are quite relieved, though neither of you are quick to show it. “Either they have a good head on their shoulders, or you still take care of some of your duties. Very well, they may live. For now. But I expect next week’s report to be far more favorable. I don’t need to remind you of the price for failing me.” With that said, Mother Miranda turned to leave, a swirling mass of dark feathers flying past you.

A minute passes, maybe two, before either of you feel capable of speaking up.

“Let’s get you back where you belong, yes?” Lady Dimitrescu says, quietly, before placing her hand on your shoulder to guide you. Tension hangs clear and heavy over both of you. Even as you walk down corridor after corridor, the feeling does not ease. At least not until you’re back in familiar territory, near where you had originally made your mistake, finally able to breathe a little. It’s here that Lady Dimitrescu pauses to speak once more. “Tomorrow I will assign one of the servants to give you a tour, in the hopes that this does not happen again. Furthermore, I ask that you forget everything you heard earlier, for it is neither your business… or my daughter’s.” You’re quick to nod, and with that she bids you farewell, leaving you alone. Now, you think, was it left from here, or right?

iv.

“I’m just going for a walk. Why do you care so much? It’s not like it’s any of your business,” Daniela assures you, despite the fact that all you had done was say ‘hello’. If this was her attempt at casting aside suspicion, she had done a terrible job of it. What made her so nervous? Was it even worth investigating? Only one way to find out.

“You’re rather bundled up, planning on being out for long?” You ask, trying to sound casual, leaning against the wall as you did. In response, Daniela pretty much stomps her foot. There’s something odd in her expression, however, that implies your question hit a soft spot. Certainly wasn’t what you had expected. “Don’t mind me, just trying to make conversation with my soulmate’s sister. Speaking of her… have you seen Cassandra? Is she, perhaps, going with you?” A little misdirection never hurt anyone. Probably.

“No!” Daniela replies, fast as a gunshot, too much emphasis to be unintentional. But she realizes her mistake as soon as she’s made it, and makes a clear effort to relax herself. “She’s probably in her studio, doing whatever it is she calls art, on the other end of the house. Besides, I don’t want any company for this walk.” For a moment you merely squint at her, unsure of how to proceed. In the end, you decide that it really is none of your business, being more than satisfied by what teasing you’ve already done.

“Alright, alright. Well then, I’ll leave you be. Just… be careful, yeah? If you get hurt, and your mother finds out that I didn’t stop you from going… not sure Cassandra could save me,” you say, with a shrug. At first Daniela can’t decide whether to be upset or relieved, but she seemingly settles for the latter, giving you a brief nod before heading outside. As the door shut behind her, you couldn’t help but wonder if you had done the right thing.

#cassandra x reader #cassandra dimitrescu #cassandra dimitrescu x reader #lady dimitrescu #resident evil: village #re8 village #yeah I'm back #don't be weird about it

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theonewiththefanfics · 4 years

Text

Black Ice (one-shot)

Synopsis: Black ice is considered one of the most dangerous winter weather phenomenon. It appears after it’s rained or snow has melted and then the rapidly cooling air freezes it, leaving it as a shiny black mirror on the ground. A deadly shiny black mirror.

Pairing: Harry Styles x fem!Reader

Genre: angst, fluff

Warnings: swearing, mentions of hospitals and injuries

Word count: 8852

“God, Harry, it’s just one night!” Y/N exasperated, throwing her hands in the air. “One fucking night I wanna go out with my friends and have some fun. Is that really too much to ask?”

“I haven’t seen you in two months!” he snapped back. “So, please fucking forgive me that I wanna spend a night in with my girlfriend and have her say ‘no’ one time, and make me a priority. Is it so hard to reschedule?”

“Yes, Harry it is!” Y/N stood her ground. “Adam and I have been talking about this for three weeks before we could set a date and meet up. He fucking flew out here! To London! And it’s not my fault you haven’t been home in two months, so don’t put that on me.”

“No,” he shook his head pointing a finger at her. “Don’t pull that shit on me. You knew about my job, you know how it can be, how much I have to travel.”

“I get that, and I’d get your anger if I was fucking off with my friends on our anniversary without any notice or some shit, but I’m not! I made these plans ages ago. I told you about them! How could I have known you’d decide to ‘surprise’ me a week early?”

But the thing for Harry was – he did think there was an anniversary to celebrate. It wasn’t an official one, and he hadn’t told Y/N how much the date meant, but that day was the day they’d met a year prior.

***

He was in the middle of filming ‘Darling Don’t Worry’. This time they'd flown out of California to shoot a scene in the middle of the woods, in the cold of November, which as exciting as it was to have his acting career flourish, Harry wasn't too happy about freezing his ass off in the middle of nowhere.

Y/N, however, lived right next to those woods, her family house having been there for generations, while the location scouts of the movie had chosen the location because the aesthetic could double as the location of the woods behind the mansion.

Y/N’d been out on her daily run (well, daily complaining because Y/N, with all her being, hated running, and thought it was a sign you were a masochist. But her best friend Adam loved running and hated going alone, so he bribed her with the promise of pizza afterwards), when they’d run into pitched white tents, filming equipment and barriers encasing a part of the path they were on.

Adam’s eyebrows furrowed as he slowed his pace, and Y/N thanked god for that because she felt like she was about to pass out.

“What’s going on here?”

“Dunno,” Y/N huffed. “But we should probably leave.”

But instead, Adam grabbed her by the bicep, dragging her forward to the set. “Nope. Come on.”

“Adam!” she hissed. “What the fuck are you – “

“Hi!” He flashed a woman standing by the railing a smile. “Could you-uh-tell us what’s going on? Why’s the path blocked?”

“A movie’s being filmed. Sorry for the disturbance.”

“Mhm, and when do you think you’ll be leaving?”

That she hadn’t expected, given how typically when people saw a movie set, they’d be more than intrigued in getting into a shot or finding out about who were the stars, not when they’d be going away.

“Oh, uh,” she stammered. “I’m not too sure. Depends if the snow starts falling and how much we manage to shoot. Sorry. But uh, would you be so kind and find a path around?”

Y/N jumped in, flashing her a kind smile. “Yes, thank you. So sorry to have disturb –“

“You do realise this is a public place?” Adam raised an eyebrow. “We have a right to be here.”

“Adam, shut up,” Y/N groaned. “We can run around them, it’s not a big deal.”

“But this is our route!”

“Adam for fuck’s sake! It’s the woods, you don’t own them!”

“Exactly!” he said. “And neither do they! They have no rights to infringe on our ability to get to the sea.”

That’s when Harry had noticed her, and to this day Y/N had no clue as to why he’d fallen for her. He was conversing with Florence about the upcoming scene when his ears caught the very end of the conversation, green eyes snapping to where two people in running tracksuits stood.

One of them was a tall burly man, muscles practically ripping apart his clothes at the seams, the other was a shorter woman, hands-on-hips, hair kept away by a headband which also covered her ears, and the most done expression on her face as she glared at her companion.

They were talking with a nervous assistant; Harry could see by her stature and how her head kept snapping to the side in hopes of finding someone above her to deal with the two strangers.

“Adam, I swear to god, I’ll punch you." Harry heard the woman exclaim. "Leave the girl alone! We can run around.”

“But I –“

“Adam!”

“Fine,” he grumbled as he threw the assistant and apologetic look. “Sorry.”

“ ‘S okay. Have my preferred cycling route as well, so yeah… Sorry.”

Harry watched as the woman next to the person, Adam, shook her head and gestured to where the barriers curved around, starting up on a slow jog, and when they passed where he was standing by the trailers, he could hear them still arguing.

“Oh my god,” Harry heard her whisper while looking at the ground. “I’m friends with a fucking Karen.”

“I am NOT a – you’re Harry Fucking Styles!” Adam shouted so hard, it startled Y/N, and when she looked over, it was like a deer in headlights before relaxing and both of them slowed their pace.

“Sorry,” she gave him an awkward glance. “He’s a fan, but we’ll be going and stop bothering you...”

“No, no,” Harry shook his head, putting his hands in his coat’s pockets and smiling. “ ‘S alright, you’re no bother. I’m always happy to talk to a fan.”

“Yes, well, don’t encourage him. Soon enough, you’ll be besties, and Adam here’ll be turning your life into absolute chaos.”

He scoffed looking down at his friend. “I’d like to think I’m taking you out of your boring routine, Y/N, and giving it some spice.”

“Anyway,” she gritted out. “It was lovely to meet you, but uh, we should probably be on our way. You have to be somewhere.”

Y/N’s eyes glanced over Harry’s shoulder, where a nervous AD stood, bouncing on her feet, a weary smile on her face as she caught the singer’s eyes and motioned with her head he was needed back on set.

Harry nodded and wanted to turn back to tell the two to come by whenever they wanted (well mainly Y/N), but when he turned around, the two were already quite a few feet away. Just as he was about to leave, he heard Y/N shout, “Congratulations on the three Grammy nominations, by the way. ‘Fine Line’ was amazing.”

“And that’s a compliment!” Adam hollered jogging backwards. “She only listens to shit from the early 2000s.”

“Adam, shut up!”

With that, Harry was left to watch the two disappear behind the trees, a feeling he was quite familiar with settling in his chest.

It was three days later, when he saw Y/N approaching the set barriers, hands in her pockets, as she rolled her neck. Their eyes met, and even, from the distance, he could see her smile split apart her face, but when she just waved without the intention of coming any closer to the lot, Harry rushed to the side calling out to her. “Hey!”

“Hey!” Y/N responded chuckling and ducking her head down. “You alright?”

“ ‘M alive. How ‘bout you? You doin’ fine?’”

“The bar’s so low?”

“I guess. Won’t be able to get you to nurse me back to health though, which is why I’m in the cold again.”

She wiggled her eyebrows at Harry. “If you wanted to see me, there's no need to lose limbs or bits of yourself.”

Harry hadn’t expected her to be so upfront, but he couldn’t lie and say he didn’t like it. Made it easier for him to understand if his advances were welcome or if he should back off. “So uh, no Adam today?”

“No, he has a late shift at work. Which means I’m spared from the running.”

“Not a fan?” he looked at her with a quirked brow, seemingly saying ‘you’re sure dressed like you are’.

“Do I look like someone who likes stabbing pain in her side and having her heart ripped out of her chest?

“You’re just not breathing properly.”

Y/N sighed. “If one of you gives me any more advice about how to properly run when I don’t even want to run, I swear I’ll stab you.”

“Okay!” he threw his hands up in surrender, laughing. “No more talk about running if I wanna keep my head on my shoulders. Where are you uh going? You don’t have to answer, I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

Y/N squealed on the inside, but bit her lip to keep the grin away. She’d been dying to talk to Harry since they’d briefly met but had no real reason. Not that she had one now, but she’d had a horrible day at work and needed to clear her head, and what was better than the forest air (also she could scream there without anyone really caring). “You’re not, so don’t worry. I’m uh I’m going to the sea.”

Harry’s eyebrows rose. “There’s sea nearby?”

“You’re like a fifteen-minute walk away from it,” she chuckled, stuffing her hands in her coat’s pockets. “Should really be more aware of your surroundings.”

“We’re in the middle of nowhere.”

Y/N tilted her head. “Yeah, you’re kind of right. But it’s places like these where you can find the best spots.”

“Will you show me then?”

She looked at him with an unreadable expression, and he could only hope his nervousness wasn’t as apparent, because Harry was more than convinced his erratically beating heart could be heard miles away. But then she nodded, giving him a wide grin, making one of his own bloom on his face.

“You sure you won’t freeze on your way there?” she said in a sarcastic tone eyeing him up and down, and Harry shoved her a bit.

He donned one of the standard down-jackets issued for the movie with winter boots, but given the costume underneath, he was chilled to the bone. “It’s bloody cold, and my toes are freezing off. How are you still standing?”

“Insulated shoes and thermal clothes. Kinda boiling actually.”

“I should steal ‘em.” He smiled at her. “Probably have frostbite by now.”

“Wow, you people from the South UK really are weak.”

Harry’s gasp made her smile as wide as a Cheshire cat. “How dare you!” He dramatically placed a hand on his chest, Y/N’s laughter erupting through the air. It cut through the yells and shouts from the filming crew, and made a warmth spread in his chest. “How do you know about the South versus North? You don’t sound like you’re from the UK.”

“Studied there for three years; had loads of flatmates from all around, let alone course mates.” Y/N chuckled and shook her head. “And to say that I thrived on the chaos was when you said North was better than the South would be an understatement.”

“Well, I guess I know where your loyalties lie.”

“Did you expect me to immediately swoon over you?” Y/N batted her eyelashes at him. “Oh, Mr Harry Styles. Your voice in ‘Kiwi’ was so good it fucked me to cloud nine. Will you please do that to me with your dick instead? Which you should take as a compliment again, considering kiwi is the only thing I’m allergic to.”

“Wait,” he looked at her, eyebrows up to the middle of his forehead. “So you have heard my stuff?”

“Well, I don’t live completely under a rock. I did say 'Fine Line' was amazing.”

“But you don’t really like it?”

Y/N shook her head. “ ‘S not that I don’t like yours or other pop stuff, ‘s just that I have a preference, and I guess it’s, as Adam said, ‘early 2000s shit’.”

A sly smile appeared on Harry’s face. “But could that include by any chance 'One Direction'?”

“Afraid not,” Y/N sighed giving him a pout. “When you came onto the scene, my heart was already taken by a boyband. And I can be a lot of things, but I most definitely a loyal bitch.”

“One band at a time kind of gal?”

“Exactly.” She beamed. God Harry had never wanted to kiss a person that bad.

“Duly noted, but I will need to know who they are, and how many graves do I have to dig? You know, for research purposes.”

“Going method now?”

“What’dya mean?”

Y/N shrugged sniffling a bit from the frosty weather. “Looked up a little bit about the movie. Need to know what kind of people might be around in the area. Psychological thriller. Wife. Rich husband. A dark secret. My guess – someone’s dead and buried. Also, the huge pit we walked past was kind of a give-away.”

He paused for a second before nodding. “Fair enough.”

A comfortable silence fell between the two as Y/N motioned with her head to where they needed to turn and made their way onto a new path when she spoke. “ ‘S not that I wasn’t a fan,” Y/N shrugged glancing at Harry from the side. “The songs were really catchy, but I guess I got tired of them? Like they were on the radio so much, it was a relief I didn’t have to hear the five of you singing about how I don’t know I’m beautiful.”

Harry threw his head back in a laugh. “Don’t worry. Sometimes we’d get sick of it ourselves. But umm, ‘Fine Line’… You said you liked it… Do ya’ have a favourite song?”

Y/N cringed. “Is it cliché if I say ‘Golden’? Because it’s ‘Golden’. I’m a sucker for a slow and then a ‘bam!’ kind of an opening.”

Harry shook his head. Now he was the one biting back a grin. “ ‘S not cliché. Was one of my favourites to write, so I’m glad you appreciate it.”

“Also, it makes me feel sunny? If that makes sense? Like – like when I listen to it, I feel warm and safe and just happy...”

He’d be lying if he said his heart wasn’t pounding in his chest at her words. Warm. Safe. Sunny. “Well,” Harry cleared his throat to keep the words ‘One day I’ll marry you’ at bay. Fuck, he'd only known her for like twenty minutes! “I’m glad you like it more than my previous stuff.”

“You just love putting me in uncomfortable situations, don’t you?”

He smiled, nudging her shoulder with his, and was just about gearing up to take a breath and ask Y/N out (before he could ask to marry her), when quick steps from behind him drew their attention.

Dressed in a typical 50s housewife dress with a black coat on top, Florence Pugh came to stand beside them, and Harry swore he saw mischief twinkle in her eyes as she raked them over both people and then settled on Harry’s companion.

“Hi!” she said giving Y/N a bright smile, and a wink to Harry, which passed the other girl’s head, given how she was absolutely fangirling right now. “I’m Florence.”

“I – yeah – I – you – I love you,” Y/N finally breathed out. “Fuck, I just, you know, 'Midsommar' was a fever dream, but I absolutely loved it, and I can’t wait for 'Black Widow' to come out. Oh my god, I think I’m gonna pass out.”

“Please don’t.” She laughed grabbing onto Y/N’s shoulder. “Feels like I already know you, but I’ve been dying to meet you actually. Created quite the commotion yesterday.”

You know how they say men can think of absolutely nothing, like have a completely blank page in their head? Yeah, Y/N was having that exact moment.

Florence tutted crossing her arms over her chest and looking at Harry with mock disappointment. “But Harry here just kept talking about you, without any intention of inviting you to the trailers, so I had to take things into my own hands.”

“You’ve been wanting to meet me?” Y/N breathed out, hands going into her hair, looking at Harry. “Oh my god, what is happening? Am I hallucinating?”

“No, you’re not,” Harry grumbled glaring at Florence. “Unfortunately. But we were on our way to the sea, so I’ll see you back on se-“

“Hello there,” Chris Pine’s smooth voice interrupted them, as he extended a hand for Y/N to shake as he jogged up to the trio. “I’m Chris.”

“Wow, your eyes are even bluer in real life.” Her own Y/E/C ones widened. “Did I just say that out loud?”

“You did,” Chris chuckled, “but I most certainly take it as a compliment. You said you were going to the sea?”

“Uh, yeah,” Y/N breathed out still gazing into Pine’s eyes. “Wanna join?”

Harry wanted to scream, but he couldn’t really. As much he wanted to tell both Florence and Chris to go away, he didn't. Seeing Y/N’s eyes light up as the two other actors conversed with her, laughed and joked around, made his heart expand.

It was insane to him, that a woman he’d seen twice in his life could have such a huge impact. It was like she’d been his missing part. Well, no. Harry didn’t like that notion – that the ‘right’ person would complete someone. People were complete on their own, but it was true to him that there was someone out there that’d make each and every moment special, someone who would help the other become better, but also hold them accountable when needed.

They wandered around the seashore, which like Y/N had said, was a fifteen-minute walk, for about half an hour before turning back to the woods.

By that point, she’d somewhat calmed down, and could actually comprehend what Chris and Florence were saying to her, and it was rather enjoyable to ask all the questions about Hollywood and the industry most people wouldn’t say on the record.

At around four PM when all of them got back to set and Olivia came to tell them they were wrapping up for the day, Florence, and Chris split from Y/N, telling her to come by whenever she wanted, while Harry said he’d walk her to the end of the trail.

“You know I’ll be fine. I grew up here, know these paths like the back of my hand.”

“ ‘S alright,” he shrugged his shoulders. “I’m sure they won’t mind much if I come back ten minutes later.”

“You know, you’re not how I thought you’d be.”

“What’dya mean?”

“I – I don’t even really know… just not how I imagined you.”

Harry didn’t know what to really do with that information, but the look on Y/N’s face most definitely didn’t seem like she meant it in a bad way. In fact, her shy smile and fleeting glances told him otherwise. At least he hoped he read her features right.

They said goodbye with soft ‘see you laters' and he watched her throw one last glance at him over her shoulder before he himself retreated and ventured to the trailers to start de-shedding the character of Jack for the night.

Harry plopped down in his seat with a groan, fishing out his phone from the pocket while the hair and make-up team did their work, taking the products off his face before applying moisturiser to the stressed skin.

Florence poked him in the cheek, and he swatted away at her hand, looking up from Instagram (or his attempts to find Y/N with just knowing her first name). “What’s wrong?” she asked, poking his pouting face again.

“She literally fangirled about everyone but me.” He huffed sliding down even further in his seat.

Florence raised an eyebrow. “Jealous, Styles?”

“No,” he scoffed crossing his arms. “Why would I be jealous?”

“Because literally both mornings that we've got here, you’ve been fidgety, keeping a watch of the path, and didn't calm down until Y/N appeared just now. So I’d say you’re absolutely smitten with the girl and are jealous because she’s more of a fan of us than you.”

“I know she likes me.” His eyebrows furrowed. “I think. She hasn’t told me to fuck off.”

“She’s a stranger you met in the middle of the woods. You should hope she likes you. But not too much. Otherwise, it could so easily become a scene out of a horror movie.”

Chris bit his lip looking at Olivia, who’d come in the trailer after having seen the group come back with an almost heartbroken gaze – it was clear as a summer’s day Harry was struck by the girl, but they had to face the music. “Harry,” he started. “You – you do realise we end filming here in two weeks, right? And she’s a local.”

“And?” his eyebrows furrowed at Chris’ words.

“You’ll be leaving in two weeks for another three months of filming, while she stays here. I don’t – I don’t want to see you hurt, but you have to realise that most likely nothing will happen.”

“And what makes you say that? Maybe she could come with.”

“Y/N is her own person with her own life, job and friends, which, as it seems is all set here.”

“Besides you don't really even know her,” Olivia said as well. “It's been two days."

“Sometimes a day is enough.”

A silence settled over them, as Harry tapped his phone against his nails.

“You guys, come on!” Florence came to his defence. “He likes her. Why not give it a shot?”

He'd flashed her a thankful smile and mouthed a 'thank you' to which she just gave him an encouraging nod. She was on his side. She believed he could do it. And he did. Using Florence's faith in him as a catalyst, a day later when Y/N had gone on her run with Adam, Harry had excused himself and joined the two.

Adam was thrilled to the bone, but he was also competitive, so after ten minutes of trying to persuade the woman to run faster so he could beat his previous time, he took off on his own, with a promise of meeting up by the shore. That’s when Harry grabbed Y/N by her bicep and stalled them both, confusion written all over her features.

“I uh,” he started. “I wanted to ask you something.”

“Yeah, sure. Go ahead.”

“I – “ he stuttered taking in a deep breath. “I – uh – and you have zero obligations to respond, but uh – I was wondering if you’d like to go on a date with me sometime?”

That made Y/N do a double-take. “You want to go out? On a date? With me?”

“Ye – yeah.” It was uncertain how the word came out, but it felt so good to say it. “Yes, I really do.”

“Sorry.” She shook her head looking at the ground with furrowed brows. “Sorry’s just, kinda hard to believe it.”

“ ‘Nd why’s that?”

“Well because the first time we met, I looked like a sweaty mess, the second, I could barely function around your friends and co-workers, and now, well now I look like a sweaty mess again.”

“So?”

“I just –” Y/N laughed but waved him off. “Never mind.”

Fear instantly took hold of his core at her statement, so he rushed to salvage what could be salvaged. “No, I mean if you don’t want, you - you don’t have to say ‘yes’. I’m not gonna be upset or any –“

“Harry!” This time Y/N placed her hand on his shoulder to stop his ramblings. “I’d love to go on a date with you.”

“You – you would?”

“Yes.” Her smile blinded him like the golden rays of sun which broke through the overcast sky. “I’d like to very much so.”

But it was Y/N’s tearful huff, a storm cloud compared to the warm light from his memories, which brought him out of the fond thoughts and into the icy right now.

“Because unless it revolves around Harry Styles, it doesn’t matter, right?” she let out a pained laugh. “Because unless he’s there to have all the spotlight on him, it’s not important. Unless it’s not something he wants to take part in, it immediately needs to be cancelled or rescheduled because god forbid someone made plans without him.”

He grunted in disagreement. “You know that’s not what I meant!”

“No,” she snapped, snatching her purse and coat. “I get it. Very clearly. I’ll show myself out.”

“Don’t be so dramatic!”

She scoffed, glaring at him. “Call me when you get your head out of your ass.”

The door slammed shut, and Harry sat down onto the sofa to scream into a pillow.

***

Y/N’s sight was blurry as she drove down the street. A light snow had started to fall over London, so she was twice as careful, knowing Londoners had zero clue how to function when snow hit, and no one had winter tires.

“Fuck,” she choked out, wiping away at her cheeks.

She’d had fights with Harry before, it wasn’t like they were perfect. From the outside they looked like nothing could ever be wrong, but they were human. They had flaws and tempers and ideas and beliefs, and sometimes they clashed, but it’d never been as bad as it was that night.

She loved Harry, Y/N truly did. She’d even had dreams of the two of them in some far-off cottage in the Italian mountains living a domestic life, but she also just wanted one night to herself. To let loose and think about her own needs and wants, while Harry was away doing the same. It wasn’t selfish, not in her mind.

It’d been her who’d uprooted her whole life to be closer to Harry, not the other way around. She was always the one cancelling and making new plans with her family or friends just so she could spend a spare second with Harry. She was there for his sleepless nights and there for his knock-out concerts. Why couldn't he let her have this one thing?

She was sitting by the wheel at a red light taking in deep breaths to calm herself down.

The light turned green, and her hand was slightly shaking as she changed gears.

Y/N released the clutch and pressed down on the gas.

Two lights came rushing from the side.

She gasped.

A sharp pain went through her side.

And then it was all black.

***

Anne was going to rip Harry a new one, as she rang him for the fifteenth time, but he still didn't pick up. After the accident and the nurses being unable to contact Harry, they obviously called Y/N’s parents which were next on the emergency contact's list, but given how they lived outside of the UK and the next flight was only in four days, they immediately reached out to Anne, begging for her to go be with their daughter while they got there.

“And please tell Harry to fly over as well!” Y/N’s mum had cried. “I – I know he has work, but please.”

Anne had been shocked to hear Y/M/N ask that, having assumed he was already there, but she wasn’t going to let them get to Harry before she set him straight herself.

In the beginning, she’d been kind of sceptical, but after spending an evening together where Y/N, her and Gemma all did wine baking, and it had ended up in a disaster in the kitchen with the three of them crying from laughter while Harry stood at the entrance completely baffled and just so done with them, Anne knew Y/N only had good intentions with her son.

Anne’s love for her only grew from that point on, when she also realised just how much Y/N’s love language was giving. It wasn’t the kind of ‘hey, look, I bought you some fancy thing, now love me’, it was ‘hey, I saw how much you wanted this, I noticed how much it’d mean to you, and I love how happy it makes you. And if it reminds you of me, that’s just a bonus’, and Anne couldn’t help but become as protective of Y/N as her own kids.

But at that moment, as finally, after her twenty-seventh attempt, Harry picked up with a gruff ‘ ‘ello?’, Anne was about to burst with rage.

“You get to the hospital right now!” she hissed into the phone.

“What are you talking about?” There was a tremble in his voice.

The thing was, for two days since Y/N had stormed out, Harry’d been feeling sick. He thought it was due to the stress from the fight and from the pressure his label was putting on him, but now he understood it wasn’t that. It was his instinct telling him something bad had happened, and at Anne’s words, the bad feeling that’d settled in his stomach made his blood run cold. “Mum, what’s wrong?”

“Y/N was in a car accident, and you didn’t bother to pick up your phone.”

“I –” He stammered unable to process her words. “What? Mum? No…”

“You’re her emergency contact,” Anne spoke. “The hospital tried to call you a billion times, and you didn’t pick up.”

And that’s when he remembered all of those calls from unknown numbers. He thought they’d been some crazed fans who’d gotten his personal number, so he’d just blocked them. “Mum, no.” Harry choked out. “I didn’t mean to – we fought – mum…”

“She’s at St. Helen’s. Please get here.”

He immediately ended the call, and in the span of twenty minutes was at the hospital, which Anne was sure to scold him for because there was no way in hell anyone who didn’t speed would be able to get to St. Helen’s in less than forty minutes. The second she saw her son burst through the door, tear tracks down his face, all the anger and disappointment vanished.

“Where is she? Is she alive? Y/N!” he yelled across the hallway. “Where is she? Mum! Where’s Y/N?”

“Gem.” She patted her daughter’s knee as both of them stood up from where they’d been sitting at the chairs outside the recovery room assigned to Y/N. “Get a nurse, please.”

Gemma didn’t need an explanation or reasoning seeing Harry’s wild eyes, erratic breathing and shaky hands.

“Mum!” He practically sprinted after seeing the woman, grabbing her by the shoulders.

“Calm down, Harry,” she shushed him, pulling him in for a hug and feeling his whole body tremble. “Calm down, it’s alright. Gem’ll get you some help, but you need to breathe.”

“I – I’m not the one who needs help!” Harry pretty much screamed. “I need to know if my girlfriend is alive.”

Anne spoke in a calm voice as to not agitate him even more, and her heart broke at the sight of her son so utterly broken. “Harry, you’re about to have a panic attack, and you’re no use to Y/N in that kind of state.”

“So.” He took in a chocked back breath. “So she’s alive?” He didn’t know what he’d do if the answer was anything else but a resounding ‘yes’. There was no version in his brain of where his life could possibly lead but down if he had to go on without Y/N.

“Yes,” Anne nodded, smoothing his hair away from his face, and watching as he took in a deep breath of relief. “She was just wheeled in for her second surgery. Should be out in about four hours. ”

All over again his insides froze. “Second? Mum, tell me the truth – how bad is it?”

“Harry, this is routine,” Gemma put a reassuring hand on his shoulder having returned with a nurse behind her, the man keeping a close eye on Harry and his behaviour. “They did as much as they could the first time, but their priority was on the worst injuries. This one is just to set things properly.”

“Set everything right like – “

“Like bones and stuff…” Gemma shuddered, trailing off. “Y/N broke her hip, dislocated her kneecap, her ankle was shattered and she fractured her collarbone. They took her in so that the bones could be properly placed together and there’s a lesser chance of complications not only while healing but later on in life. But can you please sit down? So they can help you as well?”

“I – alright,” he conceded, taking a place on one of the stiff plastic benches, as the nurse came to him, took his pulse, gave him an inhalator just in case and some herbal tablets to help him relax a bit.

“You said they focused on the worst injuries.” Harry looked at his mother. “What were those?”

Anne sighed, leaning to sit back on the chair next to him and ran a hand through his hair. “A piece of debris punctured one of her kidneys. The bleeding was pretty intense, but they say it was salvageable, so she’ll still have both of them. Gem donated some blood.”

“Thank you,” Harry whispered, looking over at his sister who wiped a stray tear away from his cheek.

She shook her head. “There’s nothing to thank me for. Y/N is family. If she’d lost the kidney, I’d give her mine in a second.”

“The worst they’re worried about is the head injuries,” Anne said. “Luckily, she got away without anything major, but she definitely has a concussion and minor whiplash to her neck, so they want to keep an eye out for any side effects that could arise. They have another surgery scheduled for her in a week if recovery goes as planned. To take the stitches that won’t dissolve out and put in the ones that will.”

Harry sagged against his mother’s side, her palms soothingly running up and down his back. “She’s gonna be alright, love,” Anne muttered in his hair, pressing a kiss to his temple. “She’s strong. She’ll be okay.”

It was comforting for both of them – for Anne to have her youngest in her arms, to know he was safe and sound, and for Harry to be held by his mother, the person who always knew how to comfort him when times were rough, and at that moment, they were the roughest they’d ever been.

“You’ve got some nerve to be here.” Adam’s seething voice pulled Harry away from his mother’s embrace and watched as he rounded the corner with a coffee cup. He was quite sure he was keeping his temper well in check from how hard he was gripping the Styrofoam cup. “Fucking ignore her for two days while she’s laying in the hospital, and appear when it’s convenient for you? Is she some fucking toy for you to use when you want?”

Anne’s tone was consoling and pleading. “He didn’t know.”

“The hell he didn’t, he just didn’t want to know! They called you!” Adam pointed at the nurse’s desk. “And you let them go to voicemail. And then, better yet, you fucking blocked the number.”

“I didn’t know it was the hospital,” he weakly defended himself.

“Because you didn’t bother to find out.”

He didn’t have anything to say to that. And not that he really could think of anything when the surgery ward’s doors swung open and they watched as a nurse wheeled Y/N’s gurney back inside the room, while another wheeled her saline bag along with.

It was a terrifying sight to see. Her face was basically nothing but a swollen piece of flesh, bruises and scratches littering her cheeks, a neck brace to keep her head from moving while one leg was wrapped in a full-on cast, the other in one up until her knee and her left arm was in a sling.

He’d had nightmares about her before. Most of the times it was about Y/N leaving him because she could no longer do it, could no longer commit to the hectic lifestyle that came with Harry, and as he screamed, banging on the invisible window that separated them, she just walked away, his sobs carried by the wind in the other direction.

“You should go inside,” Anne whispered motioning with her head to where the nurses checked the monitors and how stable Y/N was. “I know you had a fight, but she’ll want you to be there when she wakes up.”

“How,” Harry gulped back the lump that’d risen in his throat. “How do you know? How do you know she doesn’t want me to just disappear? I wasn’t there when she needed me, I was – “

Anne put her hand on his cheek. “Because when she woke up yesterday morning for the first time, you were the first person she asked for. You. She wants you there. And it’s the least you can do for her.”

He nodded, then took a deep breath and entered Y/N’s room. Watching her lay in the bed, unmoving, without her usual grumpy features as she slept, made Harry sick to the stomach so much so, he thought he’d have to call back the nurse.

It was some twisted version of Sleeping Beauty, yet he knew a true loves kiss wouldn’t awaken her. Y/N just laid there, small breaths making her chest rise and fall, not even a flutter of her eyelids.

Harry had spent countless night watching her sleep, looking at how her lashes fluttered as she dreamed of something; how her forehead creased and small, incoherent noises passed her lips as she talked to someone in her mind.

Now, he was surrounded by none of that, only artificial reminders that she was still alive and fighting to get better.

With uneven steps, Harry made his way to the chair which’d been stationed next to her bed (he was convinced beyond belief that Gemma, his mum and Adam had all taken shifts to sit there, to be there for Y/N), and much like a king who knew he was unfit for the throne, Harry had to swallow a lump as he took the seat.

“I – I don’t know if you can hear me…” Harry took hold of Y/N’s palm and let out a sob of relief when he felt it was warm, not cold like he’d feared. “But I’m here for you. I’m not leaving. Not unless you want me to, so until you wake up…” there were so many words, so many apologies he wanted to say, but kept them at bay. Y/N deserved to hear them when she was conscious, so instead, he said, “I’m here, lovie. Get some rest, I’ll be here…”

With that he put his head on the side of her bed, twisting his face so he could look up at her, watch her chest rise and fall in a steady rhythm, and fell asleep to the sound the beeps of Y/N’s beating heart.

While he slept he dreamt again, the same terrifying dream of Y/N leaving, only this time she did look back at him, but her face was all wrong, her neck bent in a way it shouldn’t be, and eyes covered in a milky white.

“You weren’t there, Harry,” she said in a voice void of emotions. “So why should I be there for you?”

Harry was 100% sure if he’d been hooked up to a heart rate monitor while he slept, people would think he was going into cardiac arrest, but it sure would’ve shown it flatlining as his green eyes swept over his lover’s frame to check his nightmare hadn’t become a reality, only to be met with two Y/E/C sparkling orbs looking back at him, giving him the softest gaze in the universe.

“Hey,” Harry’s tone was quiet, afraid to bring even the littlest of discomfort to Y/N given her state, and he had to physically restrain himself from sweeping down to bring her in a hug.

What he saw on her face made his heart leap to his throat, as she smiled, genuinely happy to see him, lifting up her right hand, the only limb without a bandage on to cup his cheek. “Hey, love.” Her voice was scratchy like nails on a chalkboard, but to Harry, it was an absolute symphony. “Are you alright? Your eyes are puffy. Have you been getting enough sleep?”

“Fuck,” Harry choked on his tears looking up at the white ceiling before back at her, complete disbelief in his blood-shot eyes. “You’re the one lying in a hospital bed, with casts and bandages all over you, scheduled for a third surgery, and you’re asking me if I’m alright?”

If Y/N could, she would’ve shrugged as if that wasn’t the most self-explanatory thing in the world. “I’ll always want to know if you’re alright. ‘S not exclusively you that can care for people, you know.”

And there she was – his sarcastic, allergic-to-kiwi-but-‘Kiwi’-loving girl that never ceased to amaze him, as she made sure everyone else was alright before herself. And that made Harry break down.

“I’m so sorry Y/N. So fucking sorry. I – god – I – there are not enough words in any language to say how fucking sorry I am. I should’ve been here, should’ve never let you leave. This is all my fault.”

Through all that, through his choked back sobs and crying, Y/N’s hand had steadily remained on his cheek, wiping away the tears from underneath one eye before switching to the other side and making the little pearls of hurt disappear with just her touch.

“Harry, are you the weatherman?”

That was not what he thought she would say. “I – what?”

“Do you control temperatures and have not told me?”

“N – no?”

“Were you the guy who ran the red light?”

“No.”

“Then how is this your fault?”

“I – “ he stammered. “I shouldn’t have let you leave. I should’ve gone after you, found a way to make you stay or – or should’ve fucking stopped being so selfish and driven you to see Adam yourself.”

“Harry, had you tried to make me stay nothing would’ve changed.” Y/N sighed letting him lean into her touch, as she bit her lip, thinking over her words. “I was just so pissed, that I think anything you would’ve tried to do, would’ve only made it worse. And I’d rather be here with you than alone in my apartment crying in a tub of Hagen Dazs because of a broken heart.”

“You-you've got your priorities completely backwards.” He wasn’t laughing when he said that, but Y/N was.

“Maybe.” She raised her eyebrow. “But I don’t think so. The bones will heal, but the amount of love I have for you… I’m afraid you’ve ruined the thought of a future without you in it. We’ll talk,” Y/N swallowed hard. “We need to talk, but when I get better. Right now, I just wanna hold your hand and have you hold mine as I try not to kick the nurses trying to take my blood for tests.”

It felt inappropriate for Harry to smile, to feel happy about how Y/N hadn’t told him to go screw himself, even though he felt like he deserved it, but fuck was it impossible not to when his body felt so light, and her love chose to invade the dark corners of his mind to fill it with golden warmth.

She fell asleep not long after their small conversation, body too tired and in need of recovery, but like he’d promised, he was there for her when she awoke again, this time to a more familiar Y/N as she glared at the coffee cup in his hand, while he sipped, a ring clad palm gently pushing away strands of Y/H/C hair from her face.

“I hate that you can drink coffee.”

“Yeah, and why’s that?”

“Because I can’t.”

“I’ll happily buy you as many coffees as you like. Once you get better and are allowed to, of course.”

Y/N snorted and then winced as the action caused pain to shoot through her body. “Knowing you, it won’t be a cup of coffee or a coffee machine, but a fucking coffee chain restaurant.”

“Would it be that bad to own one?”

Her eyebrow rose at him in an incredulous look. “You know I can’t bake. Coffee shops include pastries, and I’m not the one who worked in a bakery. I can cook, I can clean, but make me make muffins from scratch, and I’ll set your house on fire.”

“You already did.” Harry laughed. “Gem and mum helped.”

“They supplied the wine, so I’m putting 60% of the blame on them.”

“You do realise that equates to 30% of the blame on each of them, and most of it is still on you?”

“Shut up,” Y/N smiled, weakly pushing against Harry’s arm, but the motion made him happy to know she was trying. “I was just in a car crash, so forgive me for not being that great at division.”

A knock at the door made Harry look up, Y/N not even attempting to turn her head to see who’d interrupted them, given how the first time she’d tried it with the neck-brace, it’d hurt so bad she’d passed out.

Her doctor was a man in his mid to late fifties with greying hair, Y/N’s medical record file slapped underneath his arm.

“How are we doing today?”

“Better than yesterday, I guess,” she responded.

“Well, you were out for most of it, so I’d say so.”

Y/N and the doctor chuckled, but Harry didn’t, as he thought of how bad, how absolutely tired a person has to be to sleep for a whole day. He’d had those days himself, and that was from being exhausted from work. He couldn't imagine what being in a bloody accident would feel like.

The doctor stepped forward a bit and extended a hand to Harry, introducing himself as Dr Tate, while Harry rose in his seat to accept it, but not wanting to move away an inch from Y/N.

“You must be the boyfriend.”

“I – uh – I can only hope I still am,” he let out a nervous giggle, which made his girlfriend slap his arm, a furrow on her face.

Dr Tate looked Harry over from head to toe, eyebrow raised at that, but all he said was, “We tried to contact you, seeing as you’re Miss Y/L/N emergency contact, but the nurses said it couldn’t go through.”

“He was filming overseas.” Y/N butted in, clearly having rehearsed what to say beforehand. “Flew over as fast as he could. I’m the luckiest person in the world.” Her tone was soft as a feather, but Harry’s stomach felt like it was filled with rocks.

“Is there anything I can help with?” he asked hoping to be given some sort of a task to do, to allow him to redeem himself some way.

“Well, actually yes. One of the injuries Ms Y/L/N sustained was a concussion,” the doctor said, “which could lead to some complications like headaches, migraines, spotty vision or amnesia.”

“Amnesia?” Harry wanted to vomit. It had crossed his mind, but having a professional say it made it all so much worse.

“Yes, and we’d need someone to be with her as much as possible, 24/7 would be desirable, to keep an eye on.”

Harry honestly hadn’t heard anything past the amnesia part, mind spinning in a circle that just screamed ‘she’ll forget all about you’.

“It’s nothing to worry about too much.” Dr Tate was quick on his feet, seeing Harry’s blank stare, and tried to diffuse any possible spiralling. “With Y/N’s cognitive abilities and having repeatedly excelled at the test without a single stutter, it’s very unlikely she’ll have those side effects.

“But it’s still a possibility, right?”

The doctor nodded, giving Harry a kind smile. “Which is why I’m informing you of it. To keep an eye out to see if anything changes so you could come in if necessary. But as I said – Y/N’s memory has proven to be intact so far. And I always say to trust the facts.”

“Harry,” Y/N placed her hand on his. “You know I won’t forget you.”

“I’ll uh, give you two a second.” The doctor exited leaving them alone, an almost sad silence over both of them.

“God I almost lost you to some idiot running a red light with no winter tires, and now you won’t remember me. And – and even with everything you’re going through, you’re still trying to protect me? Why did you lie? I – I wouldn’t have cared if you said the truth that I was an asshole.” Harry dragged both hands over his face, trying to keep the cry’s at bay as Y/N ran her hand through his hair in an attempt to calm him down.

“I’d prefer to think,” Y/N shrugged trying to tease him and make him crack a smile, “me being dead would be the worst-case scenario, not me forgetting you. And of course, I’ll protect you. Your reputation matters to me. Just because we had a fight doesn’t mean I’ll immediately run to everyone I can and say how shitty of a person you were in those specific ten minutes.”

But Harry’s lips didn’t quirk up, the tears didn’t disappear as the painful grimace on his face wasn’t replaced by the crow lines next to his eyes from smiling so much. “What if you – what if you forget you love me? What do I do then? I know I sound selfish and like the biggest fucking dick, but as pathetic as it is – I can’t go on without you. I don’t know how I could.”

Y/N’s heart broke at his words because if the roles were reversed if Harry forgot about her and fell out of love, she didn't know how she'd survive. She’d had those fears before, when he was away filming and she couldn’t follow; she’d been terrified because what they’d had was so new, he could easily move on, find someone better, someone who was familiar with his lifestyle. But any time those thoughts came to her mind, Y/N reminded herself of what she’d do. And that’s what she told Harry.

“Then you make me fall in love with you again. You’re great at that. Make me love you more with every passing moment.”

“And – and if you don’t fall in love with me again?”

Y/N shook her head. “Impossible, Harry. You made me fall in love with you after barely two hours spent together. And well, if you put your mind to it… who knows how much deeper I’ll fall.”

For the first time in two days, Harry leaned down and pressed his lips against Y/N’s. The kiss was soft and sweet, a barely-there touch, but it meant everything. It was a promise to one another to love unconditionally, to remind the other of it at every passing moment; it sealed their future to be spent together, and neither wanted it any other way.

Harry’s phone rang, eliciting a whine from Y/N as he pulled away to answer it. “It’s Florence.” He pecked her lips one more time. “I’ll just tell her to call back.”

He turned to the side for a second muttering a soft ‘hey, can you –‘ before whatever Florence told him made him pull away and extend the deivice towards Y/N.

“It’s for you.”

“For – for me? Florence is calling me?”

Had the two women become friends? Yes. But didn’t mean Y/N had an easier time not fangirling about her.

“Hi, Flo,” she breathed out, looking at Harry with wide, happy eyes. “Yeah, I’m alright.”

Harry sat there watching as his love talked to someone she looked up to, and someone he cared about. He hadn’t told Florence, but her encouragement meant the world to him, as she was partially the reason he’d gotten together with Y/N. After all, she’d been the one on his side from the very beginning.

Y/N giggled like a crazy person after the call ended and she handed Harry back his phone. “Florence Pugh just called to give me well wishes.” She gasped looking at Harry. “Do you think Chris Pine will too?”

“God, I love you,” Harry laughed with her, pressing their foreheads together.

They’d be alright, they’d make sure of it. No matter if a disagreement arose, egos needed to be put in check or black ice covered the roads. They’d get through anything.

Tags (crossed out wouldn’t take):

Everything tags: @lumelgy @palaiasaurus64 @supernaturalbaesduh @breezy1415 @crazy--me @thatawkwardlittlefangirl @sea040561 @staryeyedgirl @deathbyarabbit @s-c-a-r-e-d-po-t-t-e-r @reblogger-not-a-blogger @m-a-t-91 @dalilx @i-need-a-hero-i-need-a-loki @maladaptive-ninja-returns @averyrogers83 @in-the-end-im-still-trash @gallifreyansass @dewy-biitch @avxgers @unlikelygalaxygiver @magicwithaknife @ollyoxenfrees @bnhvrdy @tvwhoresblog @celebsimagines @thatkindofgurl @sj-thefan @teenwolflover28 @lestersglitterglue @im-squished

Harry Styles tags: @sarcasticallywitty15 @breezykpop @girlboss99 @harrystylesdoesntknowiexist @alliyjane @sirtommyholland

A/N: Listen, Linda, those pictures of Harry on set does things!!!

Also the being allergic to kiwi - that’s me. Like legit it’s the only thing I’m allergic to. I always hated how they tasted like pain, like it made my mouth sting and feel like pins and needles before going numb, and according to professionals, that’s a sign of being allergic. But I love ‘Kiwi’ the song.

P.S. my tags are always open :)

P.S.S. I don’t take requests, sorry :(

#Harry Styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles imagine #harry styles fandom #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x you #harry styles x fem!reader #harry styles x reader smut #harry styles angst #harry styles and you #harry styles and reader #harry styles and y/n #harry styles fluff #don't worry darling #one direction #one direction imagine #1d fan fiction #1d

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