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shoot-the-oneshot · 6 months

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What a joke

Travis Kelce x Reader

prompt 88 “you? beat me? What a joke” requested by @sorryidonttreatulikeagoddess hope you like it!

“Oh come on!” Travis shouted, throwing his hands in the air while you smiled in victory.

It was date night every week you would both turn off the phones and spend time together and this week it was pizza a chess, while it doesn’t happen often this is when you’re reminded how sore of a loser he is, and you loved it.

“It was one game don't get cocky.” He grumbled seeing your facial expression

“It was five games actually baby, but dont worry you’re still the checkers master.” You giggled picking up the plates to take them to the kitchen Travis following not far behind.

“Listen sweetie I’ll let you have this win but just remember I’ll win any other game.” You could feel his smug smile even before you turned around. Matching his position you leaned back against the counter and folded your arms.

“Any game you say?” You prodded, knowing it would draw him in, doing exactly that he stepped forward pinning you with his arms caging you against the counter, leaning in to whisper in your ear. “Any game.”

“Even football?” His laugh echoed through the kitchen. “You? Beat me, at football? What a joke”

You waited for him to sober up before continuing with the idea in your head. Travis straightened little laughs escaping his lips. “I’m serious put your team together and I’ll pick mine, we can make a whole thing of it and donate to a charity of the winning teams choosing.”

You had his full attention as you spoke of course you would turn a competition into a good thing and he loved you a little more for it. He thought it over but you knew by the smile on his face he was in.

“Better get your team together because it’s on.” He held his and out to shake but the second your palm touched his, he pulled you into his chest. “May the best team win.” He whispered against you lips before pulling away and immediately going for his phone no doubt calling Pat, good thing you had your own phone calls to make.

You waited until you heard the shower turn on before your struck. Running as quietly as possible into Travis’s office, grabbing his headphones Jasons face popped back up on screen.

“Heyyy Y/N hows it going.” He boasted you’re glad you were wearing headphones or Travis definitely would’ve heard.

“Hi it’s good soooo I’m assuming you’ve heard about the game between Travis and i?” You asked pleading tone seeing him shake his head “Sorry i already told Trav i would play for him.”

“Oh come on.” You begged before a lighbulb went off. “What do you like more, supporting your brother or beating him?”

You watched as it sunk in your fingers tapping anxiously on the desk as you waited.

“So I have some ideas for our jerseys.” And just like that you had a center.

After months of planing the day has come you were decked out in the shiny gold Jersey Jason wanted standing across from Travis and Patrick on the field.

“The time has come baby you can back out now” Travis sang, ever for the dramatic he announced every member of his team as if it was a UFC match. Which to no surprise to you included most of the chiefs players.

“I think you’ll change your tune after you meet my team.” You smiled, taking the microphone from the announcer.

Thank you for everyone coming out to support a good cause and to watch Travis lose against my team today,” you paused looking to the stands as people cheered.

For our center may i introduce… Jason Kelce!!” He ran out of the tunnel to stand next to you while Travis dropped his jaw. “You said you had an interview with ESPN today!” Travis yelled pointing.

Jason shrugged “I probably will after this.”

“My own brother that’s cold” you smirked at his words moving on to the next players

“And next up on defense we have all the way from Miami, Jaelan Phillips! And the cheetah!” (Go watch hard knocks episode 2 trust me)

“And the man who broke the internet with his skims campaign…NICK BOSA!!” Travis rolled his eyes knowing the small crush you had on Bosa before you got together.

“Now for the quarterback. I know we needed something big and might i say i think we delivered.” You paused for dramatic effect, you saw Travis glance at Pat to make sure he wasn’t pulling a switch like his brother.

“The only man to have beaten Patrick Mahomes in the playoffs..Joe Burrow!!” The Crowd erupted as he came running out coming to stand on your other side. you met eyes with Travis “You can back out now baby” pulling his words back on him handing the mic back to the announcer to do his thing while you left your team to run to the sidelines with Kylie. “Now this will be a good game.” She spoke actually wearing the golden jersey which surprised you since she only wears eagles gear but as she said it wasn’t a real team so it doesn’t count.

“Let’s just hope they win.”

(I do not know enough about football to write the game but I’m learning)

Later that night you and Travis found yourselves back on the couch large trophy sitting on the coffee table. “You, beat me at football what a joke.” You repeated in a comically deep voice while giggling.

“Yeah yeah next week we’re playing checkers.” He pouted with his arms crossed gearing at your trophy. “If you promise not to throw a chair this time sure” You joke ending with a yelp as he lunges at you.

Hey guys my first time writing NFL hope yall liked it check out my other works here

#nfl imagine #nfl x reader #travis kelce imagine #travis kelce x reader #travis kelce x y/n #travis kelce x you #joe burrow imagine #nick bosa x reader #jaelan phillips x reader #jaelan phillips imagine #joe burrow x reader #nick bosa imagine

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todayisawthewhxlewxrld · 1 year

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!"are we still friends?" kiss w/ inumaki!

prompt// heartbeat getting faster with every passing second, their hands on your waist, one coming up to your jaw, whispering your name softly, before just going for it. coming absolutely undone as your hand reaches to tug on their hair (prompt from @jasminesfury)

pairing// toge inumaki x gn!reader

word count// 1.8k

contents// jujutsu high is a college, inumaki communicates through sticky notes, inumaki uses his cursed technique to get what he wants, ooc inumaki ?

notes// these kissing prompts r too good not to use sorry not sorry! also yes him using his cursed technique was inspired by that one anon... also any information i say about a character's likes? or like favorite food, i get from jjk fandom wiki dont come for me if its not right ok baiiii <3

You and Inumaki are best friends— or were. Right now, he’s not quite sure where the two of you stand considering how you’ve been acting towards him lately. He and, quite frankly, anyone with eyes could see how uninterested you were acting toward him. You avoided his touch, kept conversations short, avoided eye contact, hell, you tried to avoid him all together—you were ignoring him. It wasn’t like you were doing it on purpose, though! …Okay, you definitely were, but you also definitely had a good reason to. The whole reason this started was because of last week.

You and Inumaki are best friends; you’d obviously take any chance you could to hang out with him, and you thought that was the only reason why—because he’s your best friend—but that day you quickly learned that was not the case. You and Inumaki sat under a tree in a random park. When the weather was nice and your schedules aligned, the two of you would often have picnics together. On these picnics, you two had this unspoken agreement of bringing each other food; he’d bring you what you liked or what he thought you’d like, and you’d do the same for him. You watch him intently as he places all the food he got for you near you, and you smile when he’s finished and is staring at you patiently, waiting for you to do the same.

You ignore his gaze and what he wants, instead tilting your head at him and asking, “What’s your favorite food?”

Inumaki’s face drops, and a pout replaces his previous faint smile as he pulls out a sticky note pad and scribbles, “Are you joking?”

You commit to the bit. “No, I’m serious! What’s your favorite food?”

You watch him fervently rip that note off to write on another one, “Wait, you seriously don’t know?”

The way he’s staring at you makes you relent. “Just humor me for a second Inumaki?” you plead with a soft smile, reassuring him that it’ll be worth it.

He stares at you curiously before nodding and writing, “Tuna mayo onigiri.”

You hum with a nod. “Right, thought so,” you say. “Guess what I have!”

Inumaki’s eyes light up as he excitedly taps his finger against the words he just wrote. His reaction doesn’t take you by surprise; you’ve seen him react like this plenty of times before. It’s what you love about him—how excited and happy he gets about things and isn’t afraid to show it—but something is different. The sun is shining on his face perfectly; it gleams off his eyes, and the way the wind slowly blows past and the trees and flowers behind him sway softly with his hair has you completely mesmerized. So mesmerized, in fact, that Inumaki had to practically shove the notepad in your face for you to even realize you were staring.

You shake your head as if shaking yourself out of your trance, silently acknowledging to yourself that it was odd, but you digress. “Sorry! But yes, I do have that for you!”

He drops the notepad and holds out his hand expectingly, and you giggle as you place the onigiri in his hand. He bows his head slightly at you to say thank you before he digs in, and you smile warmly at him.

“I’ve been trying to get it for you the past few picnics, but they were always out,” you say, frowning. “But today I went early, and they actually had some!”

He acknowledges you with a glance, and your heart skips a beat just from the brief moment that your eyes meet. You try to ignore it, though. You try to ignore how you can’t keep your eyes off him, the butterflies in your stomach, and how warm you feel. Maybe you’re getting sick? Yeah, that must be it. You don’t know how long you got distracted by simply admiring him, but by the time you came back to reality, he was done with his food and writing something on his sticky notes.

He holds up the notepad, asking, “Are you okay?”

You scoff slightly. “Of course I’m okay.”

He frowns at you before scribbling, “You haven’t touched any of your food.”

You look down at the food before returning your gaze to him and awkwardly smiling. “Ah yeah, just not all that hungry, Inumaki...”

You watch him study your face quickly before writing, "Are you sick?” He doesn't give you time to reply before placing the back of his hand on your forehead, and if you weren't already flustered before, you most definitely are now. You're too shocked by his actions to say anything, but it doesn’t matter when he's already scribbling a new sentence. “You feel warm.”

“I'm sure it's nothing, Inumaki,” you try to reassure.

He hands you a sticky note that says, “We should get you back to your dorm and stop for medicine on the way,” before beginning to pack up the left-over food.

You roll your eyes and place your hand over his to stop him, and the way he looks up at you has your brain going blank, so much so that he has to shoot you a questionable look in order for you to realize what you were doing.

You quickly remove your hand from his and clear your throat. “It’s fine, I promise. I probably just have to sleep it off, okay?”

Inumaki doesn't bother writing anything down and instead just stares at you blankly.

“If I'm still ‘sick’ by tomorrow, we can go get medicine, okay?”

He nods, ultimately accepting that answer, but he wishes he didn't because tomorrow never came. You didn't die, obviously, but you might as well have. You started ignoring him the next day, and the day after that, and the day after that, and... you get the point.

Inumaki has no idea what he did; he tried to ‘talk’ to you the best he could. He’d leave you sticky notes, and you would hardly acknowledge them or him. Did he do something wrong? He knows most people found him intimidating at first because of his cursed technique and were hesitant around him, but you never were, so why are you acting like it now? Maybe he came off too strongly; maybe you got suffocated being his only friend—well, not his only friend, but his closest friend; maybe you just had enough. Inumaki told himself he was just going to let whatever happens happen, but he couldn’t. So he said he'd find you after class and corner you if he really had to; you’re already ignoring him; what's the worst that could happen after that? But he couldn’t wait till after class tomorrow; he couldn't sleep; he just laid in bed anxiously, which is why he now finds himself standing at your door. He doesn’t think twice about knocking; he wants—no, he needs—to know why you're ignoring him.

You're surprised to see him there, and his twisted-up face makes your heart drop. You're not sure if he's worried, angry, or both.

“Inumaki, hey.” You’re afraid to look at him for too long, fearful that he’ll look back and figure out your feelings for him, so you leave the door open and start walking away. “Come in.”

He does so, shutting the door behind him. You’re a few feet away from him, so he tries to close the distance between you two, only for you to take the same number of steps back. Inumaki frowns and pulls out his sticky notes.

“Are we still friends?”

No, because you’d rather be more—if it isn't obvious by now, the entire reason you’ve been ignoring him is because you've finally realized how deeply in love with him you are.

You avoid his gaze and zero in on your floor instead, nervously laughing. “Of course, Inumaki, why wouldn't we be?”

You hear him scribble something down before the sticky pad shows up in your field of vision. “You’ve been ignoring me.”

You push his hand out of your vision. "No, I haven't.”

You hear more scribbling before one of his hands grabs your chin and lifts your head up to face him. Your eyes fluttered at the action, and you hope to god he didn't notice. He shakes the notepad in his other hand to draw your attention to it. “Yes, you have.”

You can't lie to him when it's like he's staring straight into your soul. “Okay, fine, maybe.”

Though you wish you did when his face drops and he slowly lets go of your jaw to write, “Why?”

You take a step back, and he takes one forward. “It doesn’t matter.”

He frowns and shakes his notepad slightly as if to emphasize his point, “Yes, it does.”

“It doesn't because I'm gonna stop ignoring you, okay?”

“But why were you ignoring me?” he scribbles frantically.

You sigh. “Just drop it, Inumaki, please?”

He shakes his head.

“Inumaki, just forget about it, and we can go back to normal, okay?”

He narrows his eyes at you and writes, “Just tell me! I won't get mad; I just want to know why.”

“Inumaki, seriously drop it,” you say as you turn to walk away, but you don't get far before you hear a clatter of Inumaki’s things hitting the floor, and he grabs your wrist, pulling you into him. He has your wrist to his chest, and your other hand is instinctively pressing against him, while his other hand is on your waist. You grow flustered by how you two are body-to-body, with no space to be found between the two of you, and you look at him wide-eyed, both of your breathing becoming heavier with each passing second. You're about to push yourself off of him or tell him to let go of you, but any thought of doing something vanishes the minute you see him start to open his mouth.

“Tell me,” he says softly yet firmly.

You can't even attempt to fight against his command as the words "I like you" pour out of your mouth against your will.

The minute the words leave your mouth, you go wide-eyed in shock from your confession, and from how he used his technique on you, he’s equally as wide-eyed. You try to yank your wrist free from his hold, but he has an iron grip on you no matter how hard you struggle.

You begin to murmur nervously, your voice trembling with embarrassment, "Inumaki-"

But your sentence is quickly cut short when he leans in. He hesitates for a moment before just going for it and kissing you. You don't kiss back at first in shock, but once you grasp what's going on, you quickly melt into the kiss, practically turning into liquid with the way your legs try to give out on you. You quickly tangle your free hand in his hair; he releases his grip on your wrist and places that hand on your waist as well, while you cradle his face with your newly freed hand. You two stand there kissing and holding each other for what seems like forever before he finally pulls away, both of you nearly panting.

“So, uh, does this mean we’re not friends or-“

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ribbonprincess · 6 months

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confiscating rafe's drugs, but it's a little bit more comedic

i think he'd start tweaking idk man

(may you write it though, i dont know how to make good prompts so im really trying here)

warnings: drugs (ofc),slight choking,just Rafe being a lil scary.

🍭࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ

Rafe is pacing in his room when you enter,you can see his shirt clinging to his back due to his sweat as he looks frantic "rafey? what's wrong?" your boyfriend turns around immediately, looking at you with a hard glare that makes you freeze in your spot "I can't find my coke- have you taken it? I know you did,where is it?" he asks,pointing a finger at you as he comes closer with long strides.

"what- I don't know what you are talking about... why would I have your drugs anyway?" "cause you've been complaining about how I've been doing them too often,so I know you have them. Give them to me, right now." You furrow your eyebrows before shaking your head at him "no,I won't. I don't like when you take it, you've been doing it too much and you become all angry and...weird-"

Your words are cut off due to a pair of rough hands clasping your throat "you will go and take what's mine and give it back,Is that clear?" you let a small whimper escape,gripping on his wrists as tears start to gather on your lashline "don't want to... I've,I've thrown them down the toilet" you lie,knowing them well they're hiding in your room in one of your drawers under a bunch of clothes.

A small scoff escapes Rafe's mouth making you even more scared as his grip tightens on you before releasing you completely to walk over the window,showcasing a view of the whole tannyhill. "Are they at your house,in your room? hm,tell me- baby please...I need them,you know I do,they make me calm" his hands all over the place,before he harshly dug the heel of his palm in his eyes "hey- no,no...okay I'll give them back,I'm sorry." You're quick to be at his side,pulling his hands away from his face as you wipe at his eyes. "I'll give them to you,I didn't flush them down the toilet- I lied. But you gotta promise me to take a little less at least,for me?"

He looks at you through a blurry gaze before nodding "okay...yeah,okay I'll cut down some dosage. Didn't mean to lose control,I'm sorry" he says,rubbing his thumb over the red spots on your neck sure they'll bruise overnight. It's rare for Rafe to apologize especially multiple times so you just nod and bring him into a hug "it's okay,let's lay down and then we'll go to my house later,okay?" He nods at your words,pressing his forehead against your collarbone "okay...I love you doll"

#🎀princess #outer banks #outer banks x reader #outer banks fanfiction #outer banks imagine #outer banks blurb #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron thoughts #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron imagine #rafe concepts #rafe cameron blurb #rafe cameron brainrot

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allmyn1ghts · 10 months

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Can I pls have Dominik Mysterio x Fem reader where they confess their feelings for each other in the rain with the prompts "I didn't know people like you existed" + "I wasn't expecting you to change my life... but you did"? Make it fluffy!

confessions in the rain ༘⋆✿

Dominik Mysterio x fem!reader

synopsis: you and dom finally confess those hidden feelings :)

warnings: none! just fluff and some cursing

wc: 871

a/n: thank you for this super cute request, I hope I did it justice! enjoy, love! <3

Dominik was your best friend and the man you've been swooning over the past year.

A year ago you couldn't stand the thought of him or the rest of The Judgement Day. You felt that their presence every Monday night was just… annoying to say the least. But, After many many many attempts at getting you to join, you finally gave in. Rhea was the one who convinced you.

“C'mon y/n think about all the opportunities we could get you! You could be the next Women’s Champion. I've seen how hard you've been working for that opportunity. Let JD help you.”

"Fine, but if you guys screw me over, it's not gonna be pretty"

"Now why would we do that y/n?" she says with her signature smirk

So here you are now, the women's Champion, with the four people you now consider family. Shortly after joining, you realized that they weren't that terrible after all. And that's also when you stopped seeing Dom as a nuisance and saw him as the sweet and caring person he truly is. Out of everyone, you and Dom were the closest. The two you just clicked, always together, whether it be ringside supporting each other or just chilling, y'all were inseparable. Your little crush on Dom didn't go unnoticed either. The group often teased you when Dom wasn't around.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.”

“Shut up Preist, I wasn't even looking at him”

“Sure”

“Finn, have you seen Dom? I gotta talk to him before his match”

“Nope, I haven't seen your little boyfriend, I'm surprised you don't know where he is.”

“Ha ha very funny, thanks for your help.”

“Anytime love!”

Each day your feelings for him grew and you only hoped he felt the same. Telling him the truth was always on your mind. Could it possibly ruin the friendship you have with him? Maybe. but, you never know unless you try… right? Yeah, that wasn't an option at the moment.

After an eventful Raw, it was time for everyone to get back to the hotel. Everyone seemed to have left already except for you and Dom. It was weird, the five of you guys usually always left together. “You whipped some major ass out there!’ you complimented Dom as the two of yall packed up. “You think so? Felt like I didn't give my best tonight.” he shrugs. “Dom you always give a good show, dont doubt it.” He smiles at your comment. “Now cmon, I think the cab is here” You wrap an arm around his neck and head towards the exit. What you didn't know is that one, it was raining, and two, once you exit, you can't get back in.

“Oh shit! I didn't know it was gonna be pouring out here,” you said running toward the door. You attempted to open the door. “What the…” you tried again. “Dom I think we're stuck out here…” You begin to anxiously laugh at the situation. “You know this is your fault right” You look at Dom like he has two heads. “My fault?! How was I supposed to know it was gonna be pouring out and-” “Relax y/n, I'm just fucking with you” he laughs at your mini outburst.

“You're an asshole, you know that right?” the uncomfortable feeling of being wet starting to sink in.

“An asshole you looove”

“Yeah right, in your dreams”

The two of you laugh and settle into a comfortable silence.

Dom notices you start to shiver. “Here take my jacket” He handed it to you and you put it on quickly. “Thanks” you smile to yourself. Little acts like this is what made you fall in love with him, if only you could tell him that. Minutes pass by still waiting for transportation, and the two of you switch between looking at your phones or watching the rain fall peacefully. Dom decides to break that comfortable silence.

“Y/n can I tell you something?”

“Of course, what's up”

He turns to look down at you. “I don't know why I have this sudden urge to tell you this but fuck it,” you look at him confused. “Y/N I like you, a lot." Oh? Oh. "Even before you joined JD, when you hated my guts. You're- you're just so perfect, and funny, and beautiful and I can't explain what you do to me, but I love it. I didn't know people like you existed. You mean a lot to me and I don't even know if you feel the same b-” You cut him off, putting your hand on his wet cheek, and smile. “Dom, I've had the biggest crush on you for months now. I'm surprised you didn't notice! He stares at you baffled. "You're lying" "I swear!" Laughs come from both of you, he leans in, kissing you softly. He's the one to break the kiss. “I wasn't expecting you to change my life... but you did" You give him the biggest smile, and as you begin to respond to him, you are interrupted by the sound of a car horn. It's Rhea, Finn, and Damien all smiling at the two of you from the car.

“About damn time!” Damien says.

i hope you all enjoyed! pls comment and reblog! <3

request - masterlist - about me - who I write for

#dominik mysterio #dirty dominik mysterio #wwe #dominik mysterio x reader #wwe x reader #wwe fanfiction #dom dom #dominik mysterio fanfiction #the judgement day #the judgement day x reader #dirty dom #the judgement day fanfiction #black writers #fluff #fanfic #wrestling #wrestling fanfiction #dominik mysterio fluff

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dropthedemiurge · 5 months

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Boys Be Brave [EP.3] // Translation notes

Alright, I got prompted by @turndon100-blog @okiedokie2216 @lurkingshan and the ending of Ep.3 gave me hype boost so I'll try to write some clarification and translation for the scenes from my phone while I still remember everything xD Sorry if this is not going to be as well formatted as my other language posts tho...

Kiseob wants to prove to Jinwoo that he perfectly fits his entire "My ideal type" checklist and he lists all the things he nails. This might've been confusing to many in subs, but the thing is - 첫눈 (chot nun) in Korean can both mean "first sight" and "first snow". So Jinwoo immediately argues that Kiseob failed to achieve being perfect in all to-do points because Jinwoo hasn't fallen in love with him at first sight (as he mentions it in the beginning of the episode). But Kiseob confidently argues that no, there was no first snow this winter yet and shows the December article that says first snow is late this year and might only fall in January.

So technically Jinwoo can still fall in love with Kiseob at first snow and achieve perfect 10/10, therefore no failure yet! Poor Jinwoo can't argue with that logic... (That frustrated little jiggly stomping lmao)

This message also said that he better pay that credit back until Friday, otherwise there will be extra fee.

He said "Choi BalgEum. Look at me" (or focus on me) 🥺

눈치 없어 (nunchi opseo) is a phrase that literally means "have no sense" (it also was formed from 눈 - eyes, as I can guess), but it's used in the context of being perceptive (눈치 있어/nunchi isseo, having sense), feeling the subtext or nonverbal clues - and, well, the lack of it on the opposite, like being clueless.

So Balgeum actually means "Can't you see? Don't you understand the implications?"(of him holding Kiseob's hand) "I asked, don't you realize?" Stop following me around like a clueless fool" (he said that "having no sense" phrase 3 times in a row, who are you trying to fool here yourself, my guy lol)

Balgeum also curses twice at his piano not-friend-situationship. Here he says after asking to stop following him: "It's fucking embarrassing". Probably, the fact that he keeps showing up and asking to talk to him, but can also mean doing this while he obviously "has a boyfriend".

When they meet in evening, he also curses again "why the fuck do you keep appearing?" Balgeum is just definitely trying to hurt him as much as possible :(

This translation works but just to clarify - Kiseob says "Why do you often hide?". So he doesn't just ask why Jinwoo were still hiding under bed while he was talking to him, he was asking why Jinwoo was running away and hiding from him all the time (while he likes him).

"I hated you back then and I hate you now, that's why I run away."

And I just love the phrase 아니잖아... (anijanha) that he gets in response. Because it means "That's not true... (and you know it too)". There's literally a grammar point in Korean that lets you insist on something you know that the other person also should be aware of. So Balgeum angrily claims he ran away in the past and he runs away now because he hates Inho (I hope that's his name, forgive me if anything), and Inho counter argues that no, he doesn't hate him. And implies they both know it. That's why Balgeum resorts to less angry "Think whatever you want".

And the fact that even after this, Balgeum kept playing up his masquarade and saying he wants to vomit even thinking about that they had something, that he regrets it every day - no wonder Inho finally snaps and calls him an asshole/scum when he didn't use cursing before, unlike Balgeum, and so the i-dont-wanna-hurt-you-but-i-am-emotional "fight" begins.

But here we have a silver lining!

"- Meet me only three times... - I got it (what you want), so... (let go of me)"

알겠다 (al'getta) literally means "I know/I understand" but (going with my intuition) it's used naturally in cases that you understood the information you were given, received instructions and will follow them.

I'm not sure what Ep.4 will bring, but I won't be surprised if Balgeum and Inho actually will go to 3 dates because Balgeum sounded like he was giving in, after letting out his anger/fear/frustration/etc through wrestling with Inho. His final verdict for Inho pleading him to go on 3 dates with him is: "Let me go. I told you, I understand (your request and I will consider it most likely in a positive way)"

Here you go! These guys grow on me more and more with every episode. I am fascinated to see Jinwoo ditching his perfectly planned schedule, Kiseob finally refusing to follow where other people drag him, Inho fighting to make his love exist despite brutal rejections and punches, and Balgeum's carefully crafted defense walls breaking as he lets a glimmer of hope and love return to his life.

This show isn't deep at all, it's foolish and yet I'm starting to see layers and development and I'm intrigued where they all will go.

If you've got any other questions about this or previous episodes, let me know! (With timecodes preferrable)

#boys be brave #boys be brave comments #kbl #korean bl #dropthemeta #dropthemeta kbl #learning languages #korean language #translation notes #language details #lost in translation

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miriamladyvoid · 2 months

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══♡═══════════【-ˋˏ ༻❁♡❁༺ ˎˊ-】════════════════♡══

My ask: Promt: “i’d do anything for you” Fem(Reader) x Silver, and Sebek? each individual plz

contains: silver notes: i’m so sorry i dont know how to write for sebek prompt: “i’d do anything for you”

silver has always wanted to be a knight not only to repay malleus and his father, but for you as well. being a student who does not have the ability to use magic, you’re exposed to danger and don’t even have a way to defend yourself.

you had just gone with silver on a date by the fields and was on your way home. silver watched as your figure shrunk into the distance before and strange creature comes running up to you, despite the large distance between it and silver, he caught up. pushing you back, he defeated it after a short while and asked if you were alright.

“no, are you alright? i should be asking you that instead.” you replied back, soon noticing a few scratches covering his pale skin. he came with you after you had basically forced him to have you treat those scratches– clean and tend to them.

he sat on the couch as he eyed your gentle hands as they clean any dirt surrounding his wounds, wincing at the slight stings. as his eyes slowly grow heavy, you assisted him to lay down before resuming to tending his wounds. silver felt drowsy, yet your soft and caring touches kept him awake. “silver, you didn’t have to jump in and protect me.”

“why would i not help when you’re in danger?” he asked, still on the brink of passing out asleep. “will you sacrifice yourself just to save me, then? is that what you’re saying?” shaking his head in the slightest of movements, his eyes closed, still not asleep however.

you have done so much for him in the past and it felt to him that what he does to repay you were just not enough. you understood and deeply cared for him. he feels bad often because he thinks that you’re doing too much for him, which is why he wants to protect you from any harm.

“you’ve done so much for me, y/n. i’ll do just about anything for you.” those words escaped his mouth with such genuine feelings. he is very serious with those words and will keep it to his heart ‘till the day he passes. it was just like lilia and malleus all over again. silver doesn’t complain though. as you care and love him, silver promises to protect you, even if it poses any kind of harm to him.

and as he says those words, his eyes grow heavier and heavier before he falls asleep. soon waking up to the warmth of your blanket draped over him. oh how lucky he was to have you.

The original publication and writing belongs to @kerukeruppi (Post recovered) 09/01/23

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First Banner: Dahlia: Thine to the last. Second Banner: Indian Shot Canna: Chivalry. Third Banner: Tulipa: Declaration of love.

#my resquests and asks #my reblogs #twisted wonderland #twst x reader #twst #twisted wonderland x reader #silver x reader #twst silver #silver #disney twst #silver twisted wonderland #twst silver x reader #twisted wonderland silver #silver twst #silver vanrouge #silver x y/n

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itsnathateasy · 8 days

Text

Armin Week | Day 4 | SFW Prompts | Childhood OR Friends to Lovers

word count: 836 warnings: none author’s note: i made myself suffer with this one

@armin-week-2024

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

armin is the type of man i can imagine you to be in love with for a million years

like had you known each other as kids, it’s high likely that you’d hang out, you’d always be so impressed by his knowledge and soft demeanour, you can never resist a sweet friend like armin, the cute boy, never causes trouble, is shy and probably needs to man up a bit but he’s so smart that he knows he has to stand up for himself but he often doesn’t see the point to it, knowing how he’s significantly smaller than the boys that pick on him

growing up, armin is slowly transforming into something else. his body has become more muscular with age and the loads of training he’s been through but that’s not half of the change. armin now not only has an opinion, he also expresses it. you’re doomed if you don’t let him speak up, as he has the greatest comebacks. all his years of studying and learning about the world have paid off, now there’s not one person out there to ever go against him. they can try, but those who picked on him and those that think of him as less than them will probably regret speaking against him or disagreeing with him. if they’ve a point to make, armin listens with respect, but if they’re just being obnoxious, armin is quick to point it out and tolerates zero of their bullshit. armin was growing up to not only be a person you loved with all of your heart, but to a person that you admired and respected to the fullest.

all the while, you’ve become an even closer friend, a companion if you will, watching him, growing with him, learning his deepest thoughts and sharing dreams, aspirations and all of the awkward confessions of the growing up process. but it isn’t until much later that you realise you’ve been pining for him for years and years and you didn’t even know.

armin is good with the ladies now too. sure, he’s not everyone’s cup of tea, but once he starts talking them up, he’s so respectful and brainy that no girl has ever denied him, he’s having them smile back and forth, makes them weak in the knees.

armin however, seems to be oblivious to all these changes. he doesn’t know how his shoulders are now broader or that his once tiny palms that you used to hold on to when running through the streets, are now tough and thick, often calloused by working his odm and weapons.

he also seems to be oblivious to his feelings, as well as yours. so when you once sat down for one of your usual late night talks, he confesses that he doesn’t know why he never truly likes other girls. they may be fun and pretty and he’s attracted to them, but he can never think how the rest of the story goes with them, because it simply doesn’t work out in his head.

“maybe there’s something wrong with me too armin because i keep thinking the same. is it normal to never have been in a relationship in our age?”

“i’m sure it’s normal… it might be uncommon though”.

there’s was a silence between you, a familiar one. you dont need to speak to know the other person is there. “you might be the only person i can see myself with” he utters out of nowhere. “we’ve been friends for so long though, it must be why i always brushed it off. it’s difficult to differentiate between the love i have for you and the love i may have for a future partner”. you were left inspecting his face in the dark, your eyebrows furrowed. the warm light coming from the fire in front of you highlighted the colour of his hair and made his eyes more prominent. when did armin become this handsome???

“what are you saying armin? we should be together because you can’t settle with anyone else?” the hurt in your voice was obvious. you kept looking into his eyes, hoping to catch any glimpse of a lie. armin wasn’t one to lie, especially not for such matters, especially not to you.

lifting the hand that he previously rested on his knee, he placed it on yours softly, his touch was almost weightless. “on the contrary. i’m saying i can’t be with anyone because i’m in love with you. frankly, i think i’ve been for a while”. he’s hand now rubbing and gripping at your knee slightly, eyes boring into yours. whatever doubt you had a few seconds prior had completely vanished. “frankly, i think i have been in love with you for a while too” you said as you placed your palm to touch his own, soft smiles appearing on your faces. armin moved his other hand to sweetly poke your cheek, resulting in you squirming backwards, smiling even wider than before. “let’s do it then” he suggested.

#arminweek2024 #shingeki no kyojin #attack on titan #aot #snk #armin arlert #armin aot #armin x reader #armin arlert au #armin x you #armin x y/n #armin fanfiction

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philtstone · 10 days

Note

24. Showing up injured at their friend/mentor’s house: for shawn? :)

[emerges from writing this fic bloody and beaten and on the verge of collapse] ill explore karen vicks character in an overly complicated post-episode missing scene fic or die trying! set immediately post "right turn or left for dead". i genuinely dont know if im happy with this but i also cant figure out how to fix it. actually, it would have probably been easier to write if i was willing to rewatch the episodes its based on. which i am not, because i am a sensitive little soul. so i winged it. i think there are like 10 different ideas that crop up and theyre all equally fascinating as character threads but i have no idea if i tied them together in an even remotely coherent way. also, WOULD she say that??? i had to call my brother twice to ask. this is what yall get for sending me actually interesting prompts, huh

“Oh, it’s no problem,” Henry’s voice said on the phone. “I’ll send Shawn over with them on his way out. He's going in your direction, anyway.”

In her short tenure as the junior detective to Henry Spencer’s lieutenant, Karen Vick observed two things:

First, that he was a far more clever strategist than most people gave him credit for. Despite the ongoing wreckage of his impending divorce and a kid who was slipping through his fingers as everyone looked on, Karen didn’t agree with the other junior detectives’ impression of him as a smash-the-door-down old school hard ass with thinning hair and a worst attitude. The man played four dimensional chess right out of a bonafide Star Trek episode. When he really wanted something done, Henry Spencer could bullshit and bluff and battle plan with the pros, and half the time you’d get too caught up in the blustering misdirect to realize his game was intricately thought out three steps in advance.

It was how they caught the Shorttown Killer, and also how they got that idiot Trembley at the mayor’s office to finally replace their coffee maker. Karen went home to her then-boyfriend, now-husband, and, right before bed, pulled out an old school workbook and took notes.

The second thing was that Henry Spencer loved his son.

Not a lot has changed since then, Karen thinks, staring down the weirdness that she now faces through her open front door.

“… Oh — Mr. Spencer,” Karen says, because it’s rude not to greet your employees when they show up at your home outside of work hours, and are also your old friend-slash-colleague’s kid. “Hello. Thanks for — bringing these over.”

“Dad said it was urgent,” Shawn says.

Urgent isn’t quite how Karen would describe it, but hearing through the grapevine that your department might be facing an audit sometime in the next quarter does light a fire under the proverbial ass. Karen would rather bend a few rules and make sure the last year’s i’s and t’s are dotted and crossed right than leave her detectives vulnerable to the whims of a mayoral stooge.

In general, Karen prides herself on caring about the people under her command just enough that it inspires genuine friendship and loyalty. The just is important. Care needs tempering – it’s important to pull back, press pause, keep certain lines uncrossed. It’s especially important if you want to be successful as a woman in an authority position where lives are often on the line.

What she’s saying is that she tries to make it none of her business what her employees get up to in their spare time. She really genuinely does. She’s shut O’Hara down gently midway through the twelfth sweetly-frazzled attempt to overshare about her dating life (or her efforts to befriend her next-door neighbor, or the endearing personality quirks of her last cat – rest in peace, Triscuit, you will be missed –) enough times to be well-versed in the art of I Won’t Ask, You Won’t Tell, But You’ll Probably Know I Care Anyway.

An invaluable rapport to maintain. In any situation, Karen thinks, but especially when you’re a person who regularly hires and works alongside Shawn Spencer.

She’s not sure whether what she’s looking at right now makes her want to second guess or double down on her usual policy.

“Special delivery,” Shawn adds, like everything is super normal.

Karen narrows her eyes. She glances behind them into the quiet residential street.

“Shawn,” she says.

“Yes, Chief?”

“You didn’t drive here, did you?”

“Ha,” he says, half rolling his eyes to accompany a weird aborted grin. “No. Even I don’t think riding a motorcycle with a concussion is a good idea. What if someone who wasn’t me got hurt? That’s — that would be no good, then you’d have to arrest me. Wouldn’t that be a huge bummer for the whole team, Chief? Gus would cry. And my dad wouldn’t let me take his truck.”

Karen stares at him. Shawn stares at the ground.

“I got a cab,” he says.

“And you are … taking another cab – home?”

Shawn looks quite suddenly like he’s going to be sick.

“Sure,” he says.

Shawn looks terrible. Bruised face, bags under his eyes, and a weird frenetic energy twitching in his limbs that doesn’t pair well with his general air of exhaustion. He’s holding his shoulders stiffly and can barely meet her eye. His t-shirt and sweatpants are rumpled, like he slept in them, even though it’s too early in the evening for Henry to have woken him up to send him here, and when he thrusts the promised files out into the air toward her, abrupt and, admittedly, Shawn-like, he only just hides the awkward wince that immediately overtakes his left side.

The last couple days have been a bit of a whirlwind, so Karen can’t say she necessarily blames herself for not looking more closely.

Even so.

Slowly, Karen reaches forward and divests him of the case files. They slip a little bit, because Karen can’t seem to stop peering shrewdly at Shawn’s face while she does it, and on instinct he reaches forward to stop the stack from toppling.

It does help, but the autopilot he moves on makes it harder to mask what is to Karen’s eyes a very obvious flinch.

“Alright,” is all he says. “Well, good to see you. Time to head back to the old hay stack.”

Like a needle in a haystack and time to hit the hay, Karen supplies needlessly in her own head. Aloud, she says, in many ways against her better judgment,

“Mr. Spencer, are you okay?”

Shawn sways on the spot for a second, one fist clenched, mouth half open. For a strange moment, Karen gets the impression that he’s trying really hard not to say the wrong thing.

“... As rain,” he finally manages, then nods to himself like he achieved some great feat. “Okay. Well –”

“Did something happen to your shoulder?”

“What? No!” Shawn’s eyes flutter closed and he shakes his head, “I’m – fine, Chief. It’s not – I mean, I’m – normal, fine. Fine in a normal way.”

“That’s not something an individual who’s fine in a normal way would say,” Karen says.

“Uh, is it not! It is. I would know, because I am that individual. It’s – I was – there’s just mild – pfft … stab wound – or something, who would even …”

Is Shawn broken? is the unhelpful thought that pops into Karen’s head. She’s never heard an attempt to bullshit collapse so quickly into pathetic nothingness before – certainly not from Shawn.

Perhaps even more than his father, the kid’s a pro.

And then the rest of the sentence catches up with her.

“A mild stab wound?”

Oh boy. She watches Shawn’s eyes widen with the panic that proceeds an unquestionable blunder.

“Chief –”

“In.”

“Chief, I really, really don’t think –”

“Inside my house. Now.”

He’s certainly uncoordinated enough that he doesn’t put up much of a fight. Karen herds him through the door as firmly as possible and leads them in a beeline past Richard’s office toward the bathroom, ignoring the reedy stream of consciousness that spills out of Shawn’s mouth as they go.

“Oh, hey, woah, it’s been like forever since I was in here. Did you redecorate? I swear that lamp wasn’t there the last time we visited. It could be the tacos I had earlier, but I’m sensing a distinct neo-modern Chinese aesthetic going on here, Chief, which calls to mind the merits of cultural appreciation in suburban home decor – hey, is that your husband’s office? Can I meet him? Is he home? That man is a true enigma to us, Chief, and it’s leading me to believe that he must possess all the facial and personality qualities of the pop superstar Mr. Pitbull Worldwide –”

Richard is home, actually, and Karen needs to alert him to the fact that they have an unexpected house guest, so, ignoring Shawn completely, she calls out,

“Honey? Shawn Spencer’s here for a couple minutes about a work thing! I’ll go up to put Iris to bed in a second!” in the finely-honed There Are Many Layers Of Complicated To This secret married tone that Richard should probably be able to catch through the closed office door.

“Alright,” floats out her husband’s pleasant voice. “Tell him hi from me.”

Perfect. There’s about a ninety-three percent chance he understood.

They make it to the bathroom, only stumbling slightly. Shawn says,

“-- or The Rock. Does your husband look like Dwayne ‘The Rock’ Johnson? I really think that would make so many things about the Chief Vick family make sense –”

Karen closes the bathroom door with a snap and crosses her arms.

“Sit,” she says, in a voice that even he knows brooks no argument.

Shawn does. He looks – well, beyond uncomfortable, and more than a little bit miserable, and probably closer to completely dissociating than either of them are prepared for. Karen wonders belatedly if he's gotten any sleep at all in the last forty-eight hours.

“I’m assuming you have not been to the hospital.”

He gives her a baleful look, like he really expected better of her. She only just stops herself from rolling her eyes in response. And there’s that huge goose egg on his forehead, too. What, exactly, he got up to in between Carlton’s wedding reception and oh-eight-hundred hours this morning Karen has no idea, but he looks like someone’s run him through the world’s most aggressive industrial tumble dry cycle and spat him mercilessly back out.

Or maybe over with a truck.

Sending a silent prayer to the universe that Iris never hit puberty and remains a sweet-tempered six-year-old forever, Karen gets to business.

“Well, I had to at least ask. Shawn. Does it need stitches?” He mumbles the answer the first time, and then looks beyond startled when she grabs him under the chin so he’ll look her in the eye. “Listen. I won’t make you do anything you don’t want to do. But you’re going to tell me the truth. Got it?”

Shawn grimaces so hard at her words it’s almost a flinch.

“No,” he says finally, clearly enough that she hears him. Karen raises an eyebrow. “No, I don’t think it needs stitches,” he articulates, but doesn’t meet her eye.

“Hm. Alright. I have gauze and tape in the medicine cabinet. Can I … is it alright if I pull up the sleeve of your t-shirt?”

Released from her hold, he groans and presses his face into one palm. “Chief –”

“I don’t really know what you expected, coming here! It’s not like I’m any less of a hardass than your father.”

“Yeah, but I can bitch back at my dad,” Shawn says, sounding like he’s finally realizing the magnitude of his mistake. Karen smiles grimly.

“Tough. Now pull your shirt up while I get the first aid kit.”

While Shawn proceeds to wrestle awkwardly with his t-shirt in a muted shuffle against the toilet seat, Karen rummages efficiently through the cabinet and eyes him through the bathroom mirror. He seems oddly reluctant to expose himself. In fact, in a stark contrast to his usual insistence on making his presence and contributions as obtrusively obvious as possible, Shawn seems intent on shrinking into the aforementioned Asian-flavored floral wallpaper (which does need an update, unfortunately) with all the equanimity of an anxious chameleon. Karen feels her eyebrows crease. Taking the first aid kit in hand, she brings it over and deposits it into his arms, ignoring his small startle.

“How about you hold that,” Karen says. Shawn does, against his chest, like a pillow. She walks around him and surveys the damage, antiseptic gauze in hand.

He wasn’t lying about the severity, at least. It’s a shallow thing, already mostly congealed, and has only stained his shirt in a small smattering spot of crusty brown blood.

Karen swabs at it with the alcohol using light careful fingers.

“Ow, ow ow ah –”

“Don’t be such a baby. It’s hardly a life-threatening injury.”

“Super insightful, Chief,” Shawn snaps, as genuinely sarcastic as he’s probably ever been with her, “never thought of that myself. Totally the reason why I just had to go to the hospital.”

He doesn’t pull away, but she can feel the tension radiating through his back. She blinks, one eyebrow crawling up her forehead.

Alright then. So that’s how it’s going to be.

“I’m assuming your father doesn’t know about this,” she says.

Shawn grunts, noncommittal. Huh. Maybe he does know, then, and has just been disallowed from doing anything about it right now.

She tosses the first used antiseptic wipe into the trash.

Goddamn four dimensional chess.

She supposes she’s never been bad at the game. She may as well work her way backwards through the moves: Guster, the most obvious node in Shawn’s turn-to-in-a-crisis-system, would never voluntarily abandon his friend in a time of need, so Karen assumes that whatever this is has either already included his support or not been made known to Gus at all yet. Henry’s likely exhausted his own usefulness in the situation, and Detective O’Hara is …

Karen has to work very hard for her hands not to pause in a way that gives away her hard-earned mental sleuthing. A bad feeling wholly unrelated to her ill-advised hangover of the day before begins to bloom at the back of her gut.

“You have really small hands, Chief.”

Shawn’s voice is notably more subdued than before.

“Do I?”

“They’re like … little kangaroo hands. Like the mom kangaroo from Whinnie the Pooh.”

“Didn’t you know?” Karen says, not unkindly. “They’re given out at the hospital when all first-time moms leave with their baby.”

He lets out a tired little laugh, more boyish than he probably means it to be, and in spite of herself Karen feels her heart clench. She isn’t blind. In all her last seven years as the leader of their chaotic little precinct, she has never seen Juliet O’Hara look as ill as she did yesterday morning. The usually sweet-faced young woman had all the pallor of a Victorian ghost, and stood so far away from Shawn in any given room that to an unassuming observer he might have had the plague.

There are only a handful of things, Karen thinks, that could have invited that particular evolution in their dynamic. She rips the surgical tape from its canister a little bit more harshly than is strictly necessary and fights the urge to pinch the bridge of her nose between her fingers.

“So,” she says conversationally, laying the tape down in neat, gentle little strips, trying not to pinch the wound too tightly. “Any fun plans for the evening?”

Shawn sniffs. She can see him gripping his hands together over his knee from where she stands above him.

“Um, yeah, uh –” he clears his throat, “you know me, Chief. We’re working our way through a Robert Guillame marathon, which means some good old fashioned Benson, running commentary on the quality of that child acting, naturally.”

“Naturally.”

“Then Gus and I were gonna hit up the new, the new chili cheese joint up by Hermosa, you know – they’re doing sliders –”

“Chili cheese sliders?” Karen hums, contemplative.

“Buy ‘em by the pound,” Shawn agrees. “Then I was thinking of getting a tattoo, maybe a belly button piercing, I’ve been really – really needing a change – would you let Iris get one, if she asked?”

“A tattoo?” Karen clarifies, cutting off the next piece of tape. The skin around the cut is warm to her touch but Shawn’s arms have goosepimpled. The hair at the back of his head sticks up unstyled, like he slept weirdly and couldn’t be bothered to fix it come morning.

“Of a marmoset. That’s what I’m thinking. With distinctly effeminate vibes.”

“Well, Dick hates marmosets. So I’d probably encourage her toward something else. Perhaps a sea lion.”

“Like Shabby.” The nervous note has bled into his legs again, and his earlier subdued tone has gone back to sounding strained. “Yeah, that’ll – that could be it.”

“All in one night, huh?” Karen says.

“I –” Shawn doesn’t even hiss when she presses down with a cotton gauze to cover the last of the thickened blood. His legs are properly jittering again. “I was – yeah, y-you know me, Chief, total night owl.”

“Shawn?”

“Yeah?”

“What about going home?”

Silence. Shawn doesn’t answer for a moment long and pregnant enough that Karen wonders if her question will be ignored entirely.

Then,

“Chief,” he says finally, in an awful, tiny little voice, “I really, really fucked up.”

Finally, her hands do falter in their ministrations; as emotionally exuberant as Shawn often is, she doesn’t think she’s ever actually heard him close to tears. For a horrible moment she wonders if Shawn Spencer will suddenly start crying atop her toilet seat for reasons neither of them are capable of discussing honestly. Then she wonders if her horror makes her a terrible boss.

Boss – mother – person.

Oh, dear.

She sets down the surgical tape and lays a ginger palm over the newly-bandaged gouge in his shoulder. It’ll probably scar, but not at all badly. She doesn’t like to think about the far more obvious one just below, puckering in a violent yet unassuming divot. Another narrow miss for Henry’s boy.

At this point there are so many of them to count, Karen has to question the statistical likelihood of the whole thing. Becoming a mathematical anomaly is, Karen can attest with confidence, not exactly the future the Lieutenant Spencer she knew dreamed of for his increasingly unmanageable teenager.

Doing what he loved, on the other hand – absolutely. Being with a person he loved, even more so. Karen grits her teeth at the irritating web she’s spent the last six years constructing around herself and wonders if this evening right here is some kind of cosmic karma for leaving Iris in the care of nannies for the first three years of her life.

That sounds like the kind of thing those horrible parenting magazines and Karen’s mother-in-law would claim, anyway.

“Shawn,” she says slowly, because she has to at least knock this possibility off the list before risking her career in an attempt to mediate her detectives’ love lives, “did you … you weren’t – unfaithful, were you?”

“What?!”

Shawn yanks his shoulder away and whirls around to face her with such a look of horrified betrayal on his face that it’s almost comical.

“No!”

Thank fucking God, Karen thinks. Aloud, she says,

“Well, I’m sorry, I had to at least ask!”

“No! No! What the hell, Chief!”

“Oh would you be quiet! I’m gathering my evidence here!”

“How could I – I would never – you’d even think that I could –”

“I know! Shawn, for God’s sake –” He’s scrambled to his feet in the cramped bathroom space, glaring, and has probably messed up all that surgical tape in the process. The half open first aid kit and his crumpled shirt press lopsided against his front and her garbage can is now full of oxidizing bits of cotton. Karen officially gives in to the urge to press her palms against her forehead. “I had to ask!” she repeats finally. “You and I both know you’re not gonna give me much else to work with, and you sounded so – so sad!”

Shawn barks out a hysterical little laugh. Karen almost growls in frustration.

“I am not going to risk all the very hard-earned rules I have in place without knowing for sure that my instincts aren’t wrong. Is that so hard to appreciate?”

Does it count as sound police work when the framework for your investigation is an unacknowledged lie? Karen doesn’t really know. Probably there’s another math metaphor to be made in there (you screwed your proof from the very beginning, maybe, Richard the professor would definitely have thoughts), or just a straight up joke. How to solve a case that’s cold before it ever has the chance to go live; a cover-up if she ever saw one. Unlikely that O’Hara will peep a word, and things will be a true mess for a few weeks, if she can’t make an educated guess about it. And no one will be explaining anything to Carlton, either …

Right before their goddamn audit, Karen thinks, aggrieved. She wonders if Henry considered this in his calculus. Send Shawn over, have her deal with him. Offer a huge unspoken you’re gonna be walking into a shitstorm tomorrow canary for her perennially chaotic mess of a coal mine.

She can’t help but feel begrudgingly grateful, but that doesn’t mean she and he won’t be having words about this later.

“Jesus, Karen,” Shawn mutters, pressing his face back into his free hand. Karen shakes her head and squares her shoulders.

“Well then! Back to the issue. You fucked up.”

“You know what? I can’t talk about this with you.”

“Oh, Mr. Spencer, I assure you I am more than well aware.”

Shawn blinks at her between his fingers, looking genuinely confused for the first time since he showed up at her door.

Karen does not bother to clear up his confusion; it’s better this way, anyhow.

“Will you be sleeping at Gus’s place or your father’s?” she asks, crossing her arms.

“I’m – I don’t –” Shawn doesn’t meet her eye. The earlier thread of anxiety is back. “I wasn’t …”

So, neither.

“Put your shirt back on,” she says. “We’re relocating to the living room.”

“Chief –”

“That was an order, Mr. Spencer.”

The living room is as quiet and mundane as it was an hour ago. It’s past Iris’s bedtime – she’ll have to go up, and soon at that. Karen seats her guest, retrieves a mug and a bag of chamomile from the kitchen, and removes the fluffy throw blanket from the basket behind the couch on her way back in. He’s deflated completely by the time the tea and blanket are set in front of him. Small and exhausted. Caught. It’s a horrible way to think about it. But she can’t avoid the hundred yard stare – Karen has seen it one too many times in people only just realizing they’re about to go away for life.

“Shawn,” she says, firm as she can make it. “Drink the tea. You’re dehydrated.”

“I’m … what?”

“Your lips are dry. You shouldn’t be dehydrated with a concussion.”

He doesn’t say anything for a minute, and Karen suddenly wonders if he’s going to get up and leave. She has experience with these things – she knows a runner when she sees one.

“I might as well have,” Shawn finally whispers.

She doesn’t catch it the first time. “What?”

“I – I might as well ha – Chief, I …” Deep shuddering breaths. He’s finally shutting down, she realizes. She can’t send him back out like this; Henry would give her the stink eye for a month.

Goddamn Spencers and their goddamn irritating overcomplicated lives.

Karen pushes the tea directly into his hands and tilts her chin so she can meet Shawn’s eye. He’s still lucid enough that she doesn’t think he’ll start hyperventilating, but now that the outrage and adrenaline has worn off, the symptoms of shock are pretty hard to miss. “Shawn,” she says again, and wills for him to understand.

“What if she – what if I never –” He can’t get the full sentence out. He looks at her, eyes wide and terrified.

Life sentence, Karen thinks again. The messy stack of files Shawn brought over sits almost unimportantly on the coffee table between them and a memory comes to her, unbidden, of words penned carefully in the corner of a modified police report that she pulled the minute the door closed on the McCallum case seven years ago.

Date: May 4th, 1995. Reporting Officer, Spencer, Lt. H. Perpetrator a caucasian male, brown hair, five foot nine, insists on wearing those stupid earrings just to spite me. What the hell do you want me to write here, Chief? Spent two hours in the fucking principal’s office convincing them not to expel him one month off from graduation. All that effort, and I still booked the kid. It’s gonna follow him for life, and it’s gonna be me that did it to him. For life. You think he’ll ever forgive me? He’s the greatest thing in my pathetic little world and he keeps breaking my heart, and I can’t even properly accept that it’s my fault.

How’s that for a fucking crime.

She needs to go put her daughter to bed. It’s the thought that keeps running through her head, oddly enough, like a strange antidote to the impotent anger and heartbreak and frustration she’s feeling for the people under her care.

With all the notes she took in that little workbook, she still let herself become complicit in the painstaking, convoluted resolution of Henry’s mistakes without accounting for all the variables.

Richard’s footsteps sound muffled in the next room; he’s made his way upstairs in Karen’s absence. She needs to go. She wants to hear the soft and sleepy love you Mama that with her unpredictable hours and regular long nights isn’t nearly routine enough.

“Shawn,” she says evenly. “Do you love her?”

It’s hard to reconcile the smarmy kid who tried to barter with her for twelve hundred a day with the devastated young man sitting on the couch in front of her.

“Chief …” he starts, barely above a whisper.

“Good. Then she’ll see that. Detective O’Hara is a smart and observant woman. What she chooses to do next is her decision, but … you might be – well, comforted by the fact that she’ll know that – truth.”

Shawn stares at her. The tea steams in front of him, cooling in increments. She takes a deep breath and gets to her feet, patting his uninjured shoulder brusquely.

“I have to go check on Iris. When I come back down, I can drive you to the Psych office.”

Iris is fast asleep when she gets there. A library book lays open face down over her stomach, and her soft brown hair fans out against the pillow, silhouetted by the soft glow of the unicorn nightlight in the wall above her. Karen turns off the bedside lamp, tucks her daughter in, and kisses her forehead. Just before she leaves, she hears it: murmured, half-awake.

“Love you, Mama.”

“I love you too, baby.”

Karen goes back to her living room, car keys in hand. She’s planned her next move in the driver’s seat enough times throughout her career that it shouldn’t be too hard.

#my writing #psych #psych usa #psych 2006 #shawn spencer #karen vick #henry spencer #shawn x juliet #shules #situations prompt meme #not sure if i want to put this on ao3 yet we'll see #if it gets zero traction on here ... maybe lol

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theoneandonlyneonleon · 4 months

Text

Honey, Honey

Mmmmwah ty @fizzywashere87 for the prompt <333

Fem!Reader x Donnie

I might make a Masc!Reader version at some point

Prompt: Donnie and Reader are slow dancing at a wedding, and they have a deep talk (reader is emotionally constipated btb)

Fluff, minor angst?, happy ending (im terrible at tagging)

Anywhizzle enjoy <333 (+please reblog!)

@nuncscioquidsitamor-14 bc pookie wanted to be tagged <33

Word count: 1,409

The wedding was beautiful. No doubt about it. Mikey did a wonderful job with the floral arrangements, and April and Cass looked absolutely wonderful. And even more, your date. Hot damn.

Donnie didn't really wear clothes all that often, so you had no idea what you were missing out on. But seeing Donnie, all dressed up like that? You nearly lost your damn mind. The black slacks on his long legs, the white button down that he couldn't button all the way, the jacket, all of it.

"Y/N!" You hear a voice call out, and you recognize it as the bride herself, April. "Y/N c'mere!"

You walk over to April and give her a hug.

"April! You look fabulous!" You exclaim, looking at her positively gorgeous dress. "Why thank you~" she says, doing a spin to show it off. "You look great too!" April compliments, and you strike a little pose.

"More importantly," April starts, "Donnie."

You raise an eyebrow at her.

"What about him?" You ask, curious as to what she means.

"I'm talkin about how you're practically drooling every time you look at him" she places her hands on her hips, raising an eyebrow at you.

"I cant help it!" You say. "He just looks so goodddd."

"And how long have you been dating for now?" She asks, crossing her arms.

"Uhmmm.... Justttt one or two orrrrrrr eightttttt months?"

"Have you said the 'I love you' yet?"

"Mmmmmmmnnnnooooo?" You say, or rather- ask. Aprils eyes widen and her jaw drops a little.

"Eight months and you haven't said 'I love you'?? Girl-" She starts, ready to lay into you.

"I know I know- I'm emotionally constipated, okay? I'll tell him when I'm ready." She narrows her eyes at you before promptly walking away.

You suddenly hear her in the speakers, announcing something.

"Alright party people! Lets get all those couples out on the dance floor for a slowwww dance" You look at her to find her holding up two thumbs ups pointed in your direction.

Your attention is pulled from April as you hear the familiar sound of your boyfriends voice behind you.

"May I have this dance, darling?" He asks, holding out a hand. You take it and he leads you to the dance floor as some cheesy love song plays.

He places a hand on your waist, you place yours on his shoulder, and you both intertwine fingers best you can. You sway to the beat, not really knowing how to dance.

"You look gorgeous tonight." Donnie says, causing you to blush and look away. You werent the best with taking compliments.

"Look at me, would you?" He requests, squeezing your waist ever so slightly. You still dont, your gaze resting on your hand perched on his shoulder rather than his eyes.

"Is everything alright, darling?" He asks, raising a drawn on eyebrow at you. You shrug, and he momentarily lets go of your waist to gently move your chin so you look at him. You meet his eyes and blush. The corner of his mouth quirks up in a half smile as he cocks his head slightly.

"You okay?" He asks again, waiting for verbal confirmation.

"Yeah.... I'm fine, I just-" you start, averting your gaze once again. He looks at you, waiting for you to finish. Gosh, he was so patient with you. The way he looks at you, everything thing about him, just him. You loved him so much. Now if only you could tell him that.

"I dunno..." Is what you settle on. "Its just a lot, yknow?"

"Are you overstimulated? Too noisy? Too bright? What is it, hon?" He asks, so patient and caring.

"No... Not that." You think carefully for a moment, searching for the right words. "I've been thinking."

"About?" Donatello questions and he spins you gracefully. 'What a talented dancer' you think.

"Us."

Don raises a brow, looking slightly worried for a second. "This isn't you trying to break up with me, is it?"

"Dont worry, its not." You reassure him.

"Relieved sigh. Thats good. I love you so much I don't know what I'd do if you left me." He chuckles, and you almost stop in your tracks, but don't to continue the flow of dancing, causing you to trip over your own feet. Luckily, Donnie holds you up.

"You okay?" He asks, and you half nod, mind occupied by something else. Those three words. The words you had not yet worked up the nerve to say.

He takes note of the expression on your face, and as if he was a mind reader, he says something.

"I imagine this is because I said the 'L' word?"

You glance at April and Cass, then back to him. "Lesbian?"

"No- Love, Y/N. I said I love you." He states, thumb rubbing gently against your waist.

"Right...."

"Yknow typically when someone says 'I love you', you typically say it back." He smirks that adorable smirk you love so much.

"Your hesitation issss...... Quite unnerving, Y/N. Do you not love me back?" You see the worry on his face and quickly deny it.

"What? Nonono- of course I do, Donnie, I just- I don't know how to say it." He looks at you quizzically as you try to explain.

"Its easy. Like this: I love you too, Donatello, love of my life. Simple"

You sigh. "Its not just that easy. I've never been in a relationship this long. Ive never said....... That.... To someone else before."

Donnie, being as sweet as ever, just listens.

"And its not like I dont love you, I definitely do. I guess I'm just scared that- once I say it, this- us, will become real."

He raises an eyebrow.

"Like once I say.... It..... Im admitting to myself that I'm in love with you, and that's only going to make it hurt that much more when this ends."

When you're finished speaking, you look away, trying to swallow the lump building so annoyingly in your throat. His hand releases yours and cups your cheek, brushing his thumb against your skin.

"What makes you think this is gonna end?" He asks, forcing you to look at him. "I dunno..... I just know that one day you'll find someone so much better than me, and you'll leave me behind. They always do."

The look that flashes across Donatellos face is a mixture of melancholy and love.

"Darling..... There is no one in this world I would rather be with. You're not perfect, sure. But neither am i. And I can promise you, that I will not be leaving you any time soon. Y/N I love you, more than anything or anyone, okay? And by Galileo that will never change. Understand? So, take your worries about me finding someome better and throw them out, because I don't want anyone else. I want you."

By the time he finishes you're nearly on the verge of tears. He pulls you closer into an embrace and you resist the urge to bury your face into the crook of his neck.

"God..... You're perfect...." You say quietly. He responds with "I know, dearest."

"I love you, Donatello, love of my life." You tell him, backing up from the embrace to look into his eyes. He smiles that beautiful smile at you.

He says "I love you too, Y/N. More than anything." before he captures your lips in the sweetest, softest kiss you've ever experienced.

The song ends and Mikey comes on the mic.

"Alllllright party people! Time to pump it up!"

The next song starts and you turn to Don once you recognize the opening. He looks at you the same, a grin spreading across his face.

He grabs both you hands and dances with you, singing along to the ABBA song playing over the sound system.

"Honey, honey how you feel me, uh huh. Honey, honey nearly killed me, uh huh. Honey, honey."

You look around, seeing Leo dancing with his boyfriend, April and Cass dancing together, Raph dancing a little on the side, Mikey dancing with himself by the laptop controlling the music, and Donnie. The love of your life, dancing with you, swaying to the music and spinning you around.

In that moment, you knew just how lucky you were. To be a part of a family like this, to have someone like Donatello. There was no where else you'd rather be.

------------------------------------------

Since this is named after one of my fave ABBA songs I wanted to include my headcanons for the boys' fave ABBA songs

Raph: SOS

Leo: Dancing Queen

Donnie: Gimme, Gimme, Gimme (Man After Midnight)

Mikey: Lay All Your Love On Me

------------------------------------------------

Ty for reading! And please please please reblog, my writing won't get shown to people without it. (Reblogging is the very core pillar of Tumblr!)

#leonwritesstuff #leoslastbraincell #rottmnt #rise of the tmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #save rottmnt #unpause rottmnt #rise donnie #rottmnt donnie x reader #rottmnt donnie #donnie tmnt #fanfic #ao3 #rottmnt fanfiction #abba #fluff #minor angst #happy ending

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lemon-russ · 2 months

Text

sorry, I was going to write the Russ fic from the poll but I am being actively haunted by the gay lady Custodian. She must be freed.

Thank you @squishyowl for the divider :)

Emperor's Saint (Pt. 2)

Pt. 1 || Pt. 3

Fem!Custodes x Fem!Reader

CW: GAY, SUPER SAPPHIC GAY

Summary: Diplomat does her job, more gay pining.

Word count: 2,188

You managed to at least get into your slip before Hera returned from her prompt 6 and a half minute walk. After you finish dressing proper in your fine diplomatic gowns, you show Hera your dress with a turn.

“Am I good?” You ask, mostly to make sure you dont have anything amiss or stuck.

She smiles down at you, eyes dragging up and down your body in a way that makes you blush a little.

“Very good.” She agrees after an eyebrow rasing-ly long assessment of your person. She smiles and picks up her spear, then holds the door for you with a playful bow.

“After you, my Lady.” She says sweetly, and you try to shake off the thoughts popping in your mind about the way she's looking at you as you leave.

She draws a lot of attention from the townsfolk, even with her helmet off to reduce her height and flamboyantness, she still was massive and in shining gold armor. She ignores the stares though, checking the area now and then and sometimes walking ahead if you to check allyways before you pass them and the like.

All is done with practice, like it's muscle memory for her. You frown as you have a thought.

“Heraclast, how many charges have you watched over?” You ask. Something bothers you about the thought of her being this close and protective of someone else. Well, not something. You're jealous. But that's a silly thing to be, her whole job is to guard people.

She smiles, falling in step behind you. “You're my third.” She says.

You raise your brow. “I thought it would be more than that.”

She gives a small shrug. “Aquillian sheilds aren't needed very often, and I'm not the only one. Most of the time we're just at the palace, or nowadays out on missions. But we go years without a charge.” She says casually, stepping protectively closer and staring down a man walking by who got a little close to your path for her liking.

You knit your brow as you watch the man nervously beeline to the other side of the road, then look up at her. “So, what happened to your other charges?” You ask.

“They finished what I was sent for them to do. So I left.” She replied, putting a hand on your shoulder to guide you out of the path of a cart. “Please watch your feet and not me, my Lady.” She says with a smirk.

You blush and look back at where you're walking, trying not to get captivated by her face again.

“So, when I do… whatever it is you wont say, you'll go?” You ask, glancing up at her.

She nods. “Though it's not up to me, you know. I don't know what you're meant to do either until you do it and the scriers tell me you're all set.” She says.

You frown a bit, and try to cover it, but are too slow. She laughs gently.

“Was that a pout, my Lady?” She says, grinning as you blush. “Don't worry, sometimes it takes years before I'm called back.” She says warmly.

That was not reassuring. Years. Years of not sleeping alone, not bathing or changing alone, years of constant companionship of the 9 foot tall warrior goddess.

You blush more. On one hand, you don't know if you can survive the embarrassment if you're so flustered after one day.

On the other hand… you steal another glance up at her. From this angle you mostly see her strong jaw, her eyelashes, the quirk of her lips as she passively smiles. Your heartbeat picks up a bit and you tear your eyes away, focusing on the road very hard. Years. Years of this.

Pull yourself together, you chide yourself. You can't become a gay disaster after a single day of being in the proximity of an attractive woman. This is sad even for your standards. You take a deep breath and focus on diplomatic thoughts.

You're here to work out a supply route with the local government. They have precious metals the Imperium needs. It's all very standard fare, and you wonder how you could end up doing something so important the scryers on Terra felt the need to send you a bodyguard to make sure it gets done.

In your thoughts, you trip a little over the cobbled road. Before you even register you've tripped, Hera has you, holding you under your arms again as she places you on your feet.

“Careful there my Lady, these roads are not well paved.” She says, frowning a bit. “I thought you were watching your feet too, and you're flushed again. Are you sure you're well?” She says, bending a bit to look you over.

You sigh. “Yes, just, um, embarrassed I tripped.” You squeak out.

She raised a brow, then nods. “Ohhh, right, blushing. You're not sick, you've just been blushing.” She says like she solved a puzzle, standing upright again and looking pleased with herself. “None of my other charges did that. I'll learn though.” She says as you start walking again.

“No seeing you nude, no watching you sleep, and if your face is all red you're just embarrassed.” She says with a smile, nodding to herself.

You frown and blush harder. “Hera, surely these aren't foreign ideas to you?” You say as you rub a warm cheek with your palm.

She smiles and tilts her head at you. “Well, my other charges didn't care about that stuff. They changed in front of me and stuff, and didn't get all red like that.” She says offhandly.

You raise a brow, then realize what you're missing. “Were your other charges women?” You ask, knitting your brow.

She nods, smiling. “They were. But they said oh it's fine, we're all ladies, you can see me bathe.” She said with a shrug. “I assumed that meant the same for you. I'm learning you're peculiarities though.” She said with a grin before turning her attention back to watching for danger.

Oh by the throne. Her other charges probably didn't like women. You rub your face in both your hands. You actually forgot that some women don't like other women. You let out a long sigh.

“Yeah, I uh, guess I'm a little shy…” you mumble, trying to cover the tracks you've accidentally left leading straight to a giant sign that says “I THINK YOU'RE SO HOT MY BRAIN IS MELTING”. Hopefully she doesn't start putting all the pieces together herself.

She smiles, stepping forward to open the door for you as you reach the meeting building. “I'm getting that about you. I may be out of practice, but I'm not that clueless about mortal emotions.” She chuckles. By the Emperor you hope that's not true.

She puts a gentle hand on your shoulder, urging you to wait while she scouts out the building quickly. You wonder if you can ask her to touch you less, every time she does your brain shorts a little, but dismiss the thought. If she touched you less… well. She'd be touching you less.

She returns to your side and gestures you forward, satisfied it is safe, and leads you to the large meeting hall. She opens the door for you again, and as you walk in the head of trade smiles politely at you, then his face goes a little pale as Heraclast follows you in.

“Ah- good to see you again, my Lady…” the elderly man says, eyes glued on Hera. She nods, puts on her helmet, and goes to stand at the side of the room on guard.

You smile at him nervously. “Oh, don't mind her. She's a bodyguard. The Imperium… insisted I have one all the time now, so it's not personal.” You lie. Easier than explaining scriers saw your future and deemed you important to Terra.

The man nods, still looking unsure, but moves on. You've worked with this man before, and quickly come to an agreement on trade routes and outputs from the planet. You smile and go to shake his hand, and Hera is next to you in an instant, gently moving your hand away.

The man frowns, confused and intimidated by her speed.

“Apologies my Lady, but please do not shake hands. Could be hidden weapons or poisons.” She says, gently moving you backwards from the table by the shoulders.

The man raises his brow and you fluster a bit, “oh- she doesn't mean you- I'm sorry, shes just very protective-” you say, trying to smooth over any offense.

He frowns but nods a bit, looking up at Hera. “Um, well then, a… signature, should do, then…” he says, signing a paper and pushing it over.

You sigh and sign it, and say your goodbyes as you leave with your papers.

You look up at Heraclast with a tight expression. “Please don't do that, you could get me in a lot of trouble.” You tell her.

She frowns. “You cannot get in trouble, I am here to protect you.”

You sigh. “Not- not physically, diplomatically. What you did could be really offensive.” You say with a pleading voice.

She frowns harder. “Ah. Apologies my Lady, but I cannot comprise your safety for manners. Though you are the first diplomatic person I've guarded, so, I shall try and be more clear.”

You rub your temple. “Ok, I'll just… tell them upfront I cant touch for safety concerns, I guess…” you grumble.

She looks conflicted. “You are upset.” She states.

You look up at her, but your frown falters when you meet her eyes. She looks upset, and it makes your heart skip a beat. “Ah- no, it's okay” you say, reaching out and patting her large armored arm. “I'll just warn them, I'm not upset with you.”

She looks unsure, but gives a small nod. “Alright. I'll try to be more… diplomatic about things. But I cannot risk your safety.”

You sigh, nodding. “Alright then.” You say as you make your way back.

She looks at the sun a moment. “It is past 6 hours from your last meal.” She states. You look up at her confused.

She looks down, pursing her lips. “You require a meal every y hours in the daytime.” She says.

“I mean, I guess? I never counted…” you reply, but she is already urging you- which is actually just gently pushing your back- towards a food stall you were walking past.

“Hera, I'm fine, I can eat back at the lodgings-” you protest, but she's already speaking to the vendor.

She drops a pile of currency you had brought with, and thankfully the vendor gives her back most of it, and she returns to you with some sort of pastry, smiling.

You smile and chuckle, reaching for it when she frowns and pulls it away. “Wait- I must taste it for poison.” She says, chomping it.

You sigh. “How would it be poisoned? We didn't plan to stop here, no one could plan that far ahead on a chance.” You say tiredly.

She swallows, then smiles and hands you the bitten bun. “You'd be surprised, my Lady. I've seen murder plots that were set years in advance that subliminally urged people to make seemingly random choices.”

You pout. “…this seems like you just wanted a bite of my food.”

She laughs sweetly, and the sound makes you smile and giggles under your breath.

“You're amusing. I will say you are my most entertaining charge yet.” She chuckles, moving you to a bench nearby. You chuckle too, and bite into the unbitten part of the bun. It's surprisingly tasty, and hopefully not made of anything that causes digestive distress to people from other planets.

She scoots closer to you, so her thigh touches yours, and you nearly choke, coughing as you try to swallow properly. She startles a little and pats your back.

“My Lady-?” She asks urgently, and you wave her off as you catch your breath.

She frowns, studying your face. “Ah.” She says, smiling. “Your face is red again! You are merely embarrassed.” She chuckles. Then scrunches her brow. “I did not do anything but get closer to you for safety though. What has you blushing?” She asks as you gulp down the rest of your bite.

“Um-” you squeak. “It's- It's nothing.” You mumble, rubbing your face.

She frowns. “Hm. That is fine, I will decode you eventually, my Lady.” She says with a sweet smile. “I have excellent pattern recognition, I'm sure in the next month I'll figure you out.” She says happily.

You groan into your hands. Months. Years. You're doomed.

#wh40k #warhammer 40k #my work #wh40k fanfic #female custodes #custodes oc #adeptus custodes #femstodes x reader #f!custodes x f!reader #OC: Heraclast Ossian #emperor's saint fic

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