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#or trying to figure out what the hell to do after uni and Much less scary than working on that book he's been working on since forever.
bylertruther · 1 year
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the brainrot is so bad that i'm sitting here trying to watch the godfather just thinking to myself "damn..... how can i make a byIer au outta dis... 🤔📝"
#karen's actress is italian... maybe karen is too... she's a civilian but mike gets roped into it bc ted is more involved as an accountant.#her family loves him and ted loves money and being able to provide for his family and all that Macho Family Man^tm stuff and#sure karen wants mike to do big things—bigger than just messing around with his friends—but she isn't sure that having him get#chummy with her family is the right idea. mike does it anyway bc it's what he's Supposed To Do and he's Getting Older and karen#thinks well... okay... if this is what you want... ❤️ and mike just nods and agrees like he always does bc thts easier than speaking up#or trying to figure out what the hell to do after uni and Much less scary than working on that book he's been working on since forever.#will's a civilian ofc he gets brought along to mike's family things bc mike wants the company but he doesn't Like that world and the#way they look at him. whenever lonnie used to get fired from whatever job he was working at then he'd end up doing ''favors''#for one of the other families and even though will's nothing like his father and he and his brother and his mom aren't even remotely#involved in that kind of life he still has his last name and it's a brand tht sticks. smth smth the romeo n juliet vibes of it all....#in this au maybe hopper hasn't been reformed bc there's no tragedy to pull him out of that so maybe he's on the wheelers' payroll#and he has a daughter tht they want to introduce to mike... smth smth mike going to will's apartment in the dead of night to get#patched up.. smth smth mike taking el to things instead of will.. smth smth will and mike getting into A Big Fight bc will doesn't#want to see mike continue to get hurt or lose himself in this world and become this person that he doesn't even recognize anymore#and mike starts goading him like oh why do you care so much huh blahblah and they've been dancing around this all their lives#but it finally comes out and it doesn't fix anything bc will doesn't want This mike and mike can't stand the way will looks at him now and#will storms out after having said the unspeakable.. goes somewhere and gets caught in the crossfire.. cue the body pulled from the quarry#parallel when el calls him immediately after she finds out from hopper and there's a horrible few hours where they don't kno if will's#gonna pull thru. he does ofc much to their surprise.. wake up calls n apologies are eventually had... hurt/comfort ensues.. mike talks#to karen and opens up for the first time ever bc they've gotten closer now.. smth smth um . gay people 🫶#mike in suits n gloves + will learning to not ask questions + el seeing tht will's apartment looks more like it's will-And-mike's#apartment bc there's so much of him and his things there and he always walks in n moves around like he owns the place +#will's hands shaking as he tries to tend to mike and he manages to keep it together until mike's all patched up but when he turns around#to clean up his shoulders are shaking and mike jus comes up behind him n hugs him through it bc he knows this hurts will more than it hurts#him (which is saying smth bc mike's blood is literally all over will's hands n dinner table rn so like)#SOOOOO self-indulgent but idc im free . (<- said thru gritted teeth and while closing my eyes so i don't have 2 look at this post)#also i say brainrot but i think tht has bad connotations now. i am just an Enjoyer a Lover a Scholar an Enthusiast one might even say..#mine
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cowboysandpilots · 11 months
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The Love That You Had — Bradley x Reader
Summary: Bradley's college girlfriend shows up, Phoenix knows all the tea, and Hangman is a little jealous and not at all unsure. (Minor hangster/Implied Hangster endgame)
A/N- Hi, I'm so happy you're here. :) If you would like to support me and my writing, please remember to hit the reblog button, as Tumblr has no algorithm and likes (while appreciated) do nothing to get creators work seen. Since Tumblr is hiding all my posts with my Ko-Fi link, THIS is a list of things I need/want while I'm away at Uni if you would like a commission or just to support me. It is beyond appreciated but, of course, not required. ❤️
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"Knock, knock"
Phoenix came rushing into the academy with no other context clues, and Rooster, who was used to his best friend's less-than-personable traits, only turns from where he was talking to Hangman, to answer.
"Who's there?"
"The only person who can change your life from, 'things are going pretty good right now to,'" and then she let out a shriek that Bradley's sure he's never heard before.
"The only person who can change my life from 'things are going pretty good right now to'," — He points to her so she can add her shriek as he's not sure he could ever recreate it, "Who?" He finishes.
Bradley's life was going pretty good right now; he and Jake had finally moved past their fighting and fucking stage and finally admitted real feelings. It was new and very delicate, but Bradley really liked where it was going. That is, until the person in Phoenix's cryptic riddle walked in. If they were on a sitcom, everyone was sure there would be a track of people cheering and clapping in the background.
"Hey, Mozart." You give a soft smile and tilt your head just slightly.
Bradley is starstruck. He hadn't seen you since he graduated from university, where he studied music, hence the nickname, and left after he had finally been accepted to the Navy. Phoenix looks awkwardly between the two of you, giving Bradley a look like she's wondering how the hell he's going to handle this.
In all honesty, Bradley doesn't know how he's going to handle this either; he shuffles forward, awkwardly wrapping his arms around you, giving a tentative hug, and you can't do anything but give the same back.
Phoenix is even less helpful. When you both backup, she stands facing the two of you and puts one of her hands on each of your and Bradley's shoulders. "Wow, awkward. I know pronounce you awkward." She chuckles, and you can see Bradley actually grimace. Maybe this was a bad idea.
Phoenix can't seem to stop running her mouth as she turns to you. "Hey, remember in University when he found your backpack after you left it in the library? Remember when he got handcuffed by campus security? That was fun. Remember you and him for four years, but then he asked you to marry him, and you ran away? Huh?" She has a great big smile, like she's trying to make a joke, but it isn't making things less awkward. "Let me show you what that looked like." She says, running out the door and dragging a reluctant Hangman with her by the arm.
You both know they're not gone, neither are subtle with the way they keep peaking their heads around the door to listen in. Still, Bradley soldiers on. "Wow, look at you, you're... here." He chuckles.
"I need to talk to you." You say, figuring it's better to get right to the point and rip the bandaid off.
Outside, Phoenix and Hangman are talking quietly. "I'm sorry." Phoenix sighs. She and Hangman might not be the best of friends, but she can still feel bad.
"What for?" Hangman frowns.
"What for?" Phoenix repeats in disbelief. "That's the love of Bradley's life. She's going to take him away."
Hangman only gives a signature cocky smirk, "I'm not giving up hope yet; I just got it."
"I don't know if you heard, but my dad died." You start. So much for ripping off the bandaid.
Bradley can only frown softly, "Oh, I'm so sorry."
You can only answer with a dry chuckle. "Military man," You nod toward Bradley's uniform. "War hero, and he dies in his sleep." You huff softly, blinking fast to hold back the tears.
"I liked him a lot." Bradley offers in the softest voice you've ever heard from the man. You figured if anyone would understand, it would be Bradley.
"Oh, he liked you," You smile, taking a chance and reaching out to put your hand on Bradley's cheek. "Do you... still have that thing where you can see your dad?"
"Yeah, I do." Bradley smiles, "It's crazy; I barely knew him; he died when I was six, you know that, but I can still see him anytime I need him." He blinks like he's being brought back to the situation in front of him. "Why are you here?"
You slowly take your hand away from Bradley's face and go to sit down with a sigh. "I need someone to talk to. It can only be you. How about that?"
"Okay." Bradley sits beside you, no judgment on his face.
"I'm married now," You admit softly, holding up your left hand with a sparkly diamond on the ring finger. "Military man." You admit again, and Bradley flinches.
"So you just didn't wanna marry me then?"
That had been the thing that caused your breakup in the first, Bradley proposed, and you said no because you didn't want to keep having to relocate and didn't want to always be worried that he wouldn't come home. "I wasn't ready." You whisper.
"And then you were?" The hurt is evident on Bradley's face.
"Well, life goes on, Bradley. You know, I think life puts people in front of us, so that we can be prepared for what comes next. I was ready because of you." You smile.
"I hope life knows what it's doing," Bradley mumbles under his breath, but you don't miss it.
"My husband wants to have children. And you know that I've always been scared of being somebody's mother because my own mother left."
"Yeah, we were both broken that way." Bradley's mom didn't leave; she passed a few years after Goose — broken heart syndrome.
"Yeah, now he's trying to convince me that I'd be a good one, and I need somebody who understands me to tell me if that could be true. I mean, I can't talk to my father. He doesn't just show up for me like yours does. You're the only one I can trust with this." That was the honest truth.
Bradley sighs and scrubs a hand over his face. "Have kids, sweetheart. Put more of you in the world. And then sit in a chair and watch them grow. You'd be amazed. We're here to make somebody else happy." Bradley didn't have kids, but he always wanted them— wanted them with you.
"Thank you, Bradley." You smile. "Now, can I give you some advice?"
"I wish somebody would," Bradley snorts.
You lean forward in your chair and look right toward the door where Phoenix and Hangman's heads are still poked out. They don't move even though you're looking. "He yours?" You smile.
"All mine." Bradley smiles back.
"Don't let him go, Bradley. If he tries to leave, chase after him. Let our mistakes teach you something. Life knows what it's doing." You smile again, quoting Bradley's muttering and lean in to give him a soft, only slightly lingering kiss on his lips.
One last goodbye.
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medicallymercury · 5 months
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And Another One - Casualty Hiatus Thoughts - 2/?
I'm still ill but I went into uni anyway like the brave little soldier that I am! (Every night, I decide that all the work that I need to do can be done “tomorrow” but we’re rapidly running out of those until the deadlines. I have lost my train pass and student ID. All I’ve listened to all day is the demo version of Geyser by Mitski. Vague sense of doom.) I got myself some Tesco Finest cookies on the way home. I’m just complaining here. 
I'm back for more already, seems like I've opened the floodgates but this one won't be as lengthy as the other one was. Genuinely sorry I can’t shut up. I thought I was done for a while but I put an episode from series 36 on in the background thinking that I'd be able to do stuff while it played but got distracted by my opinions.
Potentially all over the place again, though this one does manage to be mostly about the series 36 mother-hell storylines. So there's a theme. Warning - I started going off about Dark Room which has a lot of transphobia in it and that’s part of what I talked about.
I really don’t know how I feel about the resolutions of Sah and Teddy’s storylines with their mums. Okay, we already know I'm about to be going on about Sah and Teddy's mother problems storylines but I'm sure there are other characters who this is/isn't applicable to - feel free to let me know about it. As a recap: it’s kind of hard for me to figure out how to describe exactly what happens at the end of Friends Like These, but if anyone has ever seen that quote that’s like “I tried to ask my parents to leave the room, but not my life”, Teddy asks Gaynor to leave the room and she leaves his life. A couple months later a patient situation causes Teddy to call his mum (and that is not brought up again when he gets trapped in a mine in the next episode) and also we are left to assume that all is fine now. Pretty simplistically, in Enough, Sah and Jools talk it out after Kevin has another stroke and then they are also just portrayed as being okay forever by the end of that episode. 
I can absolutely believe that these characters, sad and work-stressed and not always the most emotionally mature, would forgive their mothers. I don’t even disagree with it happening on a story level because I think it could make for a really good development in those stories, or even just a less-than-happy ending. What I don’t enjoy is how these endings are presented as being happily-ever-afters and that everything is supposed to be fine now because they’ve forgiven/reconciled with their mothers who haven’t really done anything to deserve it. Jools is objectively neglectful, and telling Sah they were always enough does not make up for that. I think Gaynor’s behaviour is emotionally abusive; she’s controlling his life, emotionally manipulating him, she’s trying to even limit his contact with people other than her (and she has been doing this, he “wasn’t allowed friends”). Unless I'm wrong, we don’t see or hear from Gaynor at all between Friends Like These and We Need To Talk About Ollie. I don’t doubt they love their kids but that doesn’t make them good parents, and it’s not on their kids to be doing the work to improve the relationships. If we’re getting these forgiveness endings then Jools and Gaynor need to put more effort into proving they’ve changed. Or (and I'd probably find this more interesting cause I'm mean). Forgiveness needs to be presented as something that isn’t this simple happy ending because it doesn't feel like that in these circumstances. I respect the potential misery of the undeserved forgiveness, I love misery for them, especially when they’re both in mother-hell together, I am mean. But if you want to give them a happily-ever-after, keep them away from their mothers or make their mothers do the work. 
They make Sah be the bigger person way too much, actually. In Dark Room, why does Sah have to be nice to Scott when Scott deserves to get re-beaten to a pulp? I don’t care that his mum is also terrible. Not only did he bully them when they were teenagers, he tried to ruin their whole life as a fully grown adult. Their mum is terrible as well and you don’t see them acting like that. They don’t need to be the bigger person and try to help Scott and his also terrible mother, they need a weapon of mass destruction. Also, why is Sah’s deadname used so excessively in series 36? Or at all? Ever? I’m sure there were ways around the audience ever needing to actually know what it was, even if they felt like the story required the implication of characters using it. Another potential Casualty hot take, maybe? I don't think Sah's dad is all that great of a parent either. Obviously it is entirely Jools' fault that Sah has to be his carer at such a young age, he had no control over that and Jools is definitely the worse parent, but getting back with Jools without telling Sah, cancelling plans with Sah to go on dates with Jools, excusing Jools’ pretty transphobic remarks and acting like Sah has to forgive Jools because he has really isn’t great. They were right when they said “it’s not just you she left”. IT’S! NOT! JUST! KEVIN! SHE! LEFT! It annoys me that Casualty is like ‘this action will have consequences’ about that scene because Sah is right. The only person I truly like from Sah’s pre-joining-Casualty life is Bill Phillipsen (and his dead wife) and he died. I knew you very briefly/not at all but I miss you Bill and Jean <\3
This post is absolutely the post for me to start getting into the connections between the mother-hell storylines but I won’t in full. They are kind of this pair of opposites, not just on this wider level of overinvolved mother vs uninvolved mother, there are a lot of patterns I’ve noticed in the episodes and the dialogue. I’d find them all now but it's 2am and I need to be awake at 8am at the latest so I’m putting off compiling that list for another day. Some faves that I can remember off the top of my head: opposite Jan advice scenes, Gaynor really struggling to say she’s proud of Teddy even though he really wants her to while one of the first things Jools tries to say to Sah is that she’s proud of them and they tell her not to, “you won’t see me back if I go” vs “I’m back now if it’s not too late”. I really like these connections, that's why I'm so passionate about what I don't agree with in these storylines.
I didn't mention this in my last post but I got my hands on a bootleg of The Play That Goes Wrong with Milo Clarke as Max and it's very enjoyable. I've been meaning to watch TPTGW at least since I watched both series of the show, probably longer, and I succumbed to the Casualty brainrot and and had to see his version. All I'll say: He really knows how to play aunt based nepotism and situations that could be solved with polyamory.
Based on when one of the episodes is set to air, I don’t think we’ll see Casualty back until about December 30th, unless we are gonna have another break between episodes once it comes back. I don’t really care that much and also, Christmas/New Years episode? The most recent Christmas episode was that one where they were like “what if it was last year?” back in 2021 and that’s always been a weird choice to me. I just want a silly little festive one, normal Casualty episode featuring carol singing and tinsel and the implication of a really intense staff party (we will never get the Sah/Teddy Christmas party of my dreams, not this year cause they’re in the current situation, not last year cause no Christmas episode and also the stuff with Jan was happening then, not the year before…). The only thing that bothers me about the hiatus is the inevitable time skip, so much time will have elapsed in universe by the time it comes back so I feel like we will have missed a lot of the immediate aftermath of stuff that happened at the end of Driving Force.
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ribelleribelle · 1 year
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talking about my wip/go to fantasy for when im bored in class because i have nothing to do
it doesn't really have a name, but it's about 3 flatmates who are kinda broke and in their 20s (except for steve but i'll get to him in a moment), one of them's rock band, and the sheer chaos that they are constantly in.
we have:
Seb (sebastian) - he/him, gay, plays guitar, is a complete disaster and a total mood, looks like a metalhead but listens to all rock music, really ("i don't see any difference, rock is rock"). he's a bit of a dumbass but not that stupid and really cares about his friends (even if he seldom shows it). he works in a record shop since he dropped out of university, now he is in a band.
Vivian - she/her, maybe bisexual?? she doesn't know (i don't know either i haven't decided yet), aspiring stylist/movie costume designer, sleep deprived and coffee dependant, sarcastic sense of humour, can't stand her flatmates, actually a nice person if you aren't seb or his bandmates (except eve).
Steve - he/him, the most middle-aged-dad-literally-just-some-guy ever, ghost. yeah, he's a ghost, he died 30 years ago (in the dullest way you can imagine) and since then he haunts the house. not that he cares about all that haunting stuff tho, he's just here to read his newspapers and chill. he can't really chill though because he has to hear the band practice and vivian argue with seb every. single. day.
then there's the Haunters (because of steve haunting the house), seb's band, and we have:
David - he/him, trans and bi, singer, he and seb were best friends in middle school and high school, they were inseparable until he got a girlfriend (who looked suspiciously a lot like seb) and went in the same university as her. when they split up, like 2-3 years later, he realized uni wasn't for him and went to find seb again. seb is in love with him since they were 16.
Ash - they/them, aroace, bass player, met seb in the record shop and have been friends for a couple of years. they're the youngest member of the band and has been basically adopted by them. tiny and angry, has a collection of sunglasses and gets bored easily because of no attention span whatsoever (they're literally me except i don't play bass).
Eve - she/they, lesbian, drummer, vivian's best friend (who doesn't approve of her being in the band tho) and fashion icon. can't drive but loves to and doesn't let anyone touch her car. she is the one who knows seb and david the least, so she's constantly going insane over their always present sexual tension and obvious mutual untold love.
basically the main story is: vivian wants to hold a party to show how cool she is and how good her clothes are so that she can get a job and start her career as a designer, meanwhile david arrives unannounced to reunite with seb after 2 or 3 years since they last saw each other. they decide to put together their old high school band again, ash joins them and later so does eve (who met the band kinda by accident). they start playing together and they like it so much they manage to convince vivian to let them play at her party. while her, eve and ash organize the party and try to figure out all the problems and trouble they find along the way (steve tries to help too), seb and david have to put back together their frienship by being extremely gay and even more oblivious with each other. the day of the party comes and everything is set up (more or less), the guests are all there and vivian is confident. all the attention should be on her creations but when the haunters start playing they steal the spotlight with an amazing performance and the frontman and guitarist being unintentionally very homoerotic. the tension between the two finally breaks after they kiss on stage and they Realize a LOT of things. but the show must go on, they keep playing while ash is unimpressed (they saw that coming) and eve is SHOCKED (they didn't), but not for long because steve arrives to see what the hell is going on in the living room and he's VERY angry because he just wants to read but there's too much noise, so he freaks out all the guests. they all run away, stuff catches fire, it's a MESS, and vivian is FURIOUS. just before she's about to commit 4 murders in a row (not 5 because steve is already dead) seb and david escape and there's like a wholehearted conversation about their feelings (spoiler: they're been super in love with each other since before david got a gf but didn't realize it) also they make out a little??? idk i'm too aroace for this. meanwhile the rest of the band is also safe from vivian's rage because a woman approaches her and tells her how cool this whole performance was (clearly thought it was fake) and offers her a job. everyone gets an happy ending but the story WILL go on because the hunters are gonna keep playing and maybe they'll get famous and vivian too, who knows? (i don't)
.....doodles under the cut bc i wrote already too much :]
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if you can read my handwriting ily <3
anyways, what's in these blurry pics:
seb
eve
ash
david + tiny eve playing the drums and tiny ash being *swag*
messy sketch of seb and david being gay
old ass drawing of eve and ash
even messier sketch of seb and david being gay
same thing as 5 and 7 but with ash and tiny steve being a ghost in the corner
random drawings of everyone
eve being shocked, ash being uninpressed and the only decent drawing i have of vivian (sorry)
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slytherindisaster · 1 year
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Frankie's Shorts Series;
PART I: A Helping Hand
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Can't believe she actually let me finally finish this one. I am excited for this little series even if it definitely won't have a clear publishing schedule as I mostly write Frankie to have a break from DWtD. Anyway I'm still hyped for it! (and a little stressed out too)
I dedicate this chapter and all that will come after it to @kc-needs-coffee & @farrradays because without you and your lovely girls there would be no Frankie and there would be no story ❤️
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"If you smile through your fear and sorrow; smile and maybe tomorrow; you'll see the sun come shining through for you." — Nat King Cole, "Smile"
The first frat house party Frankie ever attended didn’t turn out to be anything like she imagined it. Even though the house was huge, it seemed that every corner of it was being occupied by someone. Of course, she knew no one had come here to enjoy their time alone, yet Frankie couldn't help but wish she could find some place she could hide in, away from the crowd, or at least wish she had some company to not stick out like a sore thumb. She probably shouldn't go alone to begin with but she convinced herself that maybe it was a good chance to finally meet someone other than her roommates.
Unfortunately, neither of them could accompany her to the party that evening, or at least that was what she assumed. Claudie, who Frankie also would share most of her classes with, while very nice, was constantly busy, despite the fact that classes hadn’t started yet and Cecily… Frankie wouldn’t dare to admit it, but she was too intimidated by the redhead to even come up with an idea of inviting her. She had a feeling that she wouldn't be very keen on going though.
After exploring the house some more and getting a refill of her drink, she managed to find a little couch to sit on. Without much enthusiasm, she looked around the room and decided that after finishing her drink she would head back home, when a tall figure shadowed over her. She flinched and looked up to see a boy looking at her with a very serious expression on his face.
"Sorry, did I steal your seat? I can move if you want to, I was already on my way, so-"
To her complete surprise, the boy’s features shifted and he smiled at her warmly. She was astonished by how kind he suddenly looked, compared to his previous look.
“No, no! I mean, you can go if you want to, of course, but I thought you looked a little sad, so I decided to come over to ask if everything was okay.”
“Oh.” Her eyes went even wider, “I’m fine... just kinda got a lot on my mind, you know?”
He made an acknowledging sound and nodded towards the free seat next to her, “May I?”
“Uh, sure.”
He sat with so much energy that she felt the whole couch bounce and extended his hand, “Gerard Pitts.”
“Frankie Peterson,” she smiled, shaking his hand.
“Nice to meet you Frankie. So, are you a freshman too?”
She nodded with a somber expression on her face. “Yeah, though I was hoping that I would at least get to attend some of my classes before everything went to hell.”
Gerard furrowed his brows, confused, and Frankie sighed. She did not come to this party to think about her situation, and she definitely wasn’t planning on spitting out her entire dumb life story to a complete stranger she met less than five minutes earlier, but there was something oddly comforting about Gerard Pitts that made her talk and she wouldn't stop sharing until she reached the present day.
“...and because my mother is a stuck up cow, who can't stand anything not going the way she wanted to, she cut me off, basically. I mean, technically, the first month of Uni is paid for, but the dorms are not and I did try to get a job, but I feel like I'm either unqualified to do anything or my mother sabotaged the whole thing," she concluded, "and I have barely any money left and no couch to crash on, because the only people i know here are my current roommates.
Pitts, who was nodding along while listening, furrowed his brows even more as her voice trailed off. When she finally finished, he looked her up and down and finally asked her a single question.
“Say, do you think you could mix a milkshake?”
“I… think so?”
“Then don’t pack your bags yet, Frankie. I think I might know a place that would be perfect for you.”
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proveimalive · 3 months
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Whoops! I'm ruining my own life
First time using this account in... 8 years? Maybe more, I don't know. So here's where we're at- I graduated university two years ago. Ended up working a job at a hotel that was a fucking nightmare. Ended up in the hospital due to substance abuse. Have since gotten a handle on said abuse. Am now in therapy, take ADHD meds. Have problems sleeping.
Got a job at the THeatre Royal. Been working there (and at the Dome) for 1.5 years now. Time flies. Made new friends, reignited my love for performance.
Got accepted to the London Film academy for an MA in screenwriting. Thought I could use that creative writing degree for something more substancial. It's £16,000. Can't afford it with what I'm earning.
Desperate to move out of my house. Can't spend anothert year stuck here, in this house, at this job, in the city. Need a fresh start. Need to earn more for that fresh start. Need to make a decision on what MA I'm going to do.
I miss studying, but I don't want to stay in Brighton. I want to be away and out, in London, in the centre of it all. Don't care if it's a shit hole. Just want somewhere to stay while I figure my life out.
Have a list of things I want to try, and limited time to try it. Thinking and thinking and thinking about what I want to do with my life is getting me nowhere. It's been revealed to me that I am not the sort of person who knows my own mind as well as I thought. I think I want something, and then I try it and the reality is completely different. I know that doing an MA is going to be much more work than I think. And what I learned from my degree- unless I really, really care about something, I have no hope in hell of achieving it. I need to want this or it won't work.
On a comedy kick at the moment, so want to try out some improv. Maybe some comedy writing. Think that could be fun and is something I like.
Want to try acting again. Doing an actual production. Think that could be fun.
I'm less anxious now, much healthier. I'm in a better place to do these things.
Screenwriting doesn't excite me that much. It sounds interesting, and cool, if it was a module I'd enjoy it. I think about uni and the things that stuck with me are these- writing a TV show with friends, and our comedy module. Both were more fun then I ever would have thought. I loved it, and it made me happy. Shame pandemic fucked us all over. Oh well.
Maybe look into comedy writing MAs, or just comedy writing courses.
I have enough to justify the expense. I'm tired of sitting here doing nothing day after day. I live and breathe and eat and do research, think, work, sleep. But I want to create. I want to throw myself into it and produce something. I think for years I thought I needed to fill a void. And I do. But external things don't work as well as creating something myself does.
Comedy, comedy, comedy. Wiritng. Acting. Producing. Directing. Productions. Running TV shows? I don't know.
Fuck. I wish I could make up my mind. I wish the answer could come to me in a huge rush and I'd go, "bingo. That. That's what I want to do with my life".
And of course, there's always the dream of living and working on a boat for a year. Which is becoming increasingly appealing.
All the "dreams" I have are just that- dreams. Because the reality is never what you think it'll be. Sometimes it is. Sometimes it's just a waste of time. Sometimes it's dissapointing. Sometimes it IS what you thought it would be, but then are hit with the reality that it's not making you as happy as you hoped.
Fuck me. I feel like I'm running out of time. I'm only 23, but it feels like the clock is ticking somehow. Like if I don't make a choice in the next few months, that's it. I'm stuck for another year, walking in circles, running on the spot.
I want to pick a destination and just drive full speed towards it. But instead I'm just parked on the side of the road, watching all the other cars go by, jealous of some. Staring at this map in my hands that's just a fain quiggle of lines and feeling confused and empty.
What's stopping me from setting off. I'm afraid that if I don't pick the "right" destination, I'll end up driving aimlessly from place to place, hating every single one. Even if I do enjoy my time there, if it's not "right", then I'm wasting my time. I'm wasting my life.
You might think well, how can you be? As long as you're enjoying it, then it's not wasted. That's what life is, right? Doing what makes you happiest day by day, and everything else is just a bonus.
The problem is that on a day to day basis, I'm not that happy. Life doesn't make me that happy. It makes me stressed and tired and bored and empty, and I've tried to fill that emptiness as best I can. Running from the feeling of existential dread that won't leave me be. Trying to fill the void with whatever distraction I can. To take away from the fact that I feel I am tethred to the earth by a fraying piece of rope, and I just want to come back down to land. But there's a part of me that just wants to let go and float away. Can't do that.
I feel like an astronaut fighting to keep in contact with planet earth. Sending through garbled messages and squinting through my helmet, trying to focus on what's happening down below. Like if I can stare hard enough, watch for long enough, it's almost like I'm there.
I know that I'm here. I just don't always feel like I am. I feel panicked, like any second something bad will happen. Any second it will all collapse and the tenuous balance or peace I've found will vanish. It's all very existential and over dramatic but I'm nothing if not both of those things.
So where to start? Do what I do best, I guess. figure it out on the fly.
I think doing a trial run at Mark and Chris's house would be good too. Get some experience living alone again. I think that might be a good test to see how I'm doing. If it goes poorly, I can always bring it up in therapy.
It's a sickness, a panic that seeps up from my stomach. Like the whole world has forgotten about me. Out, of sight, out of mind. Like I stop existing if I'm not being perceived. Maybe that's why I like the idea of being in a group so much. They have no choice. They're bound to me. I exist.
I exist.
Because I feel I have no worth unless I have worth to others. Is that the void I'm trying to fill? I can't be happy unless I'm kaing other people happy? Fuck me. that's a lonely, tiring life.
But I feel empty and vacant. Trying to be human as best I can.
I know all is not lost. I know these thoughts are obsessions born from an insecure childhood and that there is so much more out there. I just know I need to move. I'm a deer caught in the headlights, watching, waiting, and if I don't move I'm going to get hit. I'm a frog in a pan of water, and I'm going to drown or be boiled alive. I need to move. There's no other option.
The only thing I can control is which direction I jump. So really, does it matter? If nothing matters and it could all fall apart, who gives a shit. Who really cares. I have to jump or I'll die, so just pick something and GO. If it doesn't work out at least I moved.
Deep dramatic sigh. Breathe.
I can do this. It won't be easy but I can do it. Whatever I choose, it will be equal parts right and wrong. Some more boring or disastrous than others but each a chapter for this very long dull book. I just want to make sure there are enough highlights for a good memoir at the end, and I won't get that from doing what I'm doing now.
Got a grip on the alcoholism. Sorted the anxiety out. Got new friends. Lost a tonne of weight. Blood pressure and heart health is good. Got back in reading and writing.
Now I just need to do a but of actual living and I'll be on a roll.
So I should end this one here. Because that's enough typing and thinking for one day. You can only do what you can do. I just want to make sure that in the end, i do right by me. Little me deserves that at least.
Time to go take a shower, watch taskmaster, reply to my 7 friends and go for a speed walk in the dark listening to a spooky podcast. Can't beat the high life.
28/01/2024
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bangcakes · 8 months
Note
Hey thanks for replying !! you are so cool for going back to uni again honestly. I will be getting my degrees through distance education actually! i've been doing this professional course straight after school, but honestly i've gotten nowhere with it </3 so i was thinking about getting degrees while also doing the course. So sometimes i just think like ... kids passed out at 21 or 22 and here i am getting a degree at 26. like will it even matter at this point ?? aha i know it's stupid to think that. bcuz yeah 26 is quite young and ppl achieve so much at all ages. but it just feels like the end sometimes! like there's no point trying or whatever ... did you feel like that at 26?? i reckon it wouldve been the during the pandemic for you . sorry i dont mean to treat you like weirdly or anything, but ig you're a couple years older to me so it would be nice to hear from ppl who are also in their mid to late twenties aha <333 lots of love to you ! thanks for replying again <333
Oh!! Np!! So I should clarify in case! I'm Canadian so when I say college it'd be like... US community college?? So I didn't go back to university (one time was enough for me!!!).
And please !!! I know what you mean!! Like it feels like you have to have everything figured out at a certain age (and you realllllyyy start to feel the pressure at 26, in my experience anyway), but truthfully.. everyone has such different experiences. Like I thought I was so lucky that I had what I wanted to do figured out in high school, but in reality it closed me off to so many other opportunities because I was so set on a certain path. But really... I find that now that I've gone back at a later age... 1. I learn a lot more easily, 2. I know that getting a bad grade isn't the end of the world so I'm less stressed, and 3. I better understand the value of what I'm going through as opposed to being 18 and just fumbling through what i thought i *had* to do... Not sure if I explained that last one well but dndnndndns, yeah!! Continue on, it's okay!! I have a friend that just stopped her studies a year or so ago... Hell I might even go back again to university once this college one is over. Everything is open!!
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vogelimkafiiig · 2 years
Text
Words Soon Regretted
Requested by @levis-one-and-only <3
Levi Ackerman x Reader
Summary: hurt/comfort with Levi after a fight
A/N: Thank you so much for the request! This isn't proofread so please tell me if there's any mistakes 😅 More or less Levi's POV I think?? Haven't written in over a month bc of uni so here's me breaking my writers block yee haw
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Levi found himself regretting the words he'd said as soon as they'd slipped out his mouth. He hadn't meant it, he'd just been worked up after a long day of dealing with MP bastards sticking their noses in places they didn't need to.
You had only been trying to help him, asking him if he had eaten, if he'd had enough to drink. And here he was shouting at you to leave him alone, that he was sick of you nagging after him day and night. He really hadn't meant it.
His heart was so full of love for you and the way you cared so deeply for him, yet he couldn't help the way it clenched and sank as he watched your wide eyes blur over with tears. Your voice trembled lightly as you apologized, not hesitating to scurry away so he wouldn't notice the tears spilling down your cheeks.
"Shit," he swore under his breath, kicking the tip of his boot against his desk in frustration. He groaned, rubbing a roughened palm down his face. He couldn't leave you like that without apologizing. The thought of you crying yourself to sleep made him feel as though he was suffocating.
Steadying himself with a deep breath, Levi left his office and set out to find you. His mind was running with all the places you might have gone to. Your room, perhaps? No, your roommate would be back by now and there was no way in hell you'd let anyone see you cry. The mess hall? Too public.
His mind suddenly flickered back to something you'd told him once while dragging him by the hand in the dead of night, away to the place you'd told him you always go to when you wanted to be alone. He turned on his heels, picking up speed in the direction of the stables. Above them was a second floor where the spare hay was stored, a large spacious loft with a wide window that faced the moon at night.
As the loft came into view, he noticed a figure in the window. Being almost midnight, it was too dark to make out any features, but Levi knew it wouldn't have been anyone but you.
He made his way over to the ladder, almost throwing himelf up the rungs to get to you. As he pulled himself to his feet at the top, Levi looked over to see you nestled into a stack of hay, looking up at the partially cloud-shadowed moon through glistening eyelashes.
Without saying so much as a word, Levi slowly made his way toward you, trying not to spook you. When you finally heard his footsteps approaching you flinched a little, afraid that someone had caught you crying, but when you realised who it was you only sighed and turned away to face the window again.
"Room for one more?" he spoke softly, nodding his head in the direction of the pile of hay you were curled up in.
You said nothing, didn't even spare him a glance, but still shifted over slightly, making room for him. Levi sunk down next to you, folding his legs to the side.
"Listen- about what I said-" he began.
"No, really it's fine. I'm sorry for bothering you so much. I'll try not to do it again." Your voice was unstable as you fought back a sob, clenching your jaw and hiding yourself from him.
"Shit, no. It's me who's sorry. I just had a really shitty day and I took it all out on you even though you were just being thoughtful. I'm sorry I don't appreciate you enough. You deserve someone who won't snap at you for being nice, someone who isn't afraid to accept help when they need it. I don't expect you to forgive me, but please just know that I never forget the things you do for me. The way you spent time learning exactly how I brew my tea just so you can make it for me when I'm stressed. The way you stay with me in my office at stupid hours of the night while I do my paperwork just so I'm not alone. The way you never forget to make me eat when I've been too busy to do it on my own. I love you. I love everything about you. Even the smallest things, I'm grateful for it all. You never bother me. In fact, I can barely focus unless I have you with me. I really am sorry for the way I treated you. It was all a lie out of anger, but you deserve someone who won't talk to you like that in the first place."
When Levi tore his eyes from the floorboards he nearly flinched. You had finally turned to face him, eyes wide open in shock. He felt his stomach turn at the tear streaks that shone down your face, knowing that it was him who caused them.
"Levi," you squeaked out. "I would never want anybody but you. I love you too, more than anything." You pause, thoughtful. "You really didn't mean it? I don't annoy you?"
"Walls, no, you could never. I truly, truly love you."
You sniffled again, fresh tears spilling and Levi couldn't hold himself back any longer. He closed the distance between you, pulling you tight into his arms and tucking your head into his neck.
"Shhh, shhh, you're alright, sweetheart. I've got you now. I'm so sorry. I love you more than anything." He cooed gently into your ear, switching between sweet words and pressing gentle kisses to your hairline all the while. His hand, spread broad, brushed up and down your spine, soothing you with his gentle strokes.
After a moment Levi finally felt you begin to calm, shaky breath evening out. You dipped your head and left a tender kiss between his neck and shoulder. In turn, Levi slipped his hands onto each cheek and carefully tilted you up to face him until he was cupping your face in his hands. He swiped his thumbs over your cheeks, smudging any traces of tears left behind.
"There's my angel," he breathed, moving one thumb to trace your lower lip. You blinked at him through wet lashes, subconsciously leaning into his touch. "C'mere," he almost whispered, bringing you toward him and meeting you in the middle with a soft swipe of his lips against yours.
He felt as though he could have cried as you melted into him. Levi found himself thanking whatever gods might be out there over and over for your presence, for your undying patience that he'd never deserve. He loved you so desperately it hurt him.
Levi didn't know what he'd done to deserve you, but whatever it was he knew he'd do it over and over again for you.
He broke the kiss, resting his forehead and nose against yours for a moment.
"C'mon," he smiled. "Let's go to bed, yeah?"
You nodded in agreement and returned his smile, heart fluttering in gratitude that Levi was putting the paperwork aside for the night to devote himself to you.
With a renewed twinkle in his eyes, Levi swept you up into his arms, carrying you away laughing into the night to remind you just how much he loved you.
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sinner-as-saint · 4 years
Text
Too Young To Love You
Chubby!Bucky x reader
Requested.
Run-through: You come home from uni to spend the holidays with your parents. And you find out that your feelings for a certain man named Bucky hasn’t died out completely yet. One look at him and the sparks and butterflies came to life again. However, there are a couple of issues which stand in the way. First, Bucky’s twice your age. And second, he’s your dad’s best friend.
Themes: age gap, smut, fluff, slight bratty!reader, language, dad’s best friend!bucky, dirty talk
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“Hey there, Buck!” you chirped as you walked into your parent’s kitchen.
He turned around, “Hey babygirl.” He gave you his usual warm smile which accentuated his squishy cheeks you secretly loved so much.
Bucky was your parent’s new next door neighbor. And to celebrate your homecoming for the summer, your parents had invited him over for dinner tonight – which he was also helping in making right now.  
You admired the handsome man from afar. Sure it was immoral and wrong, but you couldn’t help but develop a crush on Bucky Barnes – your dad’s best friend.
 It started when you first met him, a couple of years ago when him and his girlfriend at the time, Natasha joined you and your parents on a summer trip. He caught your eye immediately, despite the age difference. He was sweet and kind and so damn attractive and cute. He was funny as well. You remember how quickly you had gotten comfortable around him.
He made you laugh for hours on end at the lakeside while your family had barbeque nights almost each night that summer. His long dark hair was his best feature, you concluded. Then his sinfully pink lips. But you liked his built better. Tall and broad, soft around the middle, thick thighs and squishy cheeks. And those blue eyes… those damn blue eyes. You were young though, too young. Only eighteen at the time. And your naïve heart fell for him right there and then. He was magnetic, the kind of person you want to be around all the time.
But you knew there was no scope for you two. There was no way. So you took your secret crush on him and went off to university. But you didn’t entirely forget about him, the crush you had on Bucky diminished eventually as you began going on dates with boys your age here and there. But it didn’t die out entirely.
 Babygirl… the nickname Bucky had given you around three years ago still made you feel warm and tingly. You never knew when exactly did he decide to call you ‘babygirl’, perhaps it was that summer day, three years ago, when you and him went on a boat ride around the lake while his girlfriend and your parents were asleep at the cabin.
You remembered that day like it was yesterday. You remembered how his hair moved with the wind, and how soft he looked in that loose tank top, his hair tie on his wrist as he navigated the boat with expertise and marveled at the sunrise with you. You were convinced that that summer morning solidified your feelings for him. But there was nothing you could do. You were too young then. Too young to love him.
 “You need help with anything?” you asked and sat down on the stool by the breakfast bar. Bucky was busy making dessert, and he smiled and turned sideways to look at you.
“Nope, just keep me company. I got this.” He winked and your heart fluttered. How can a man be so wholesome and adorable but also so effortlessly sexy at the same time?
You took advantage of the fact that your parents weren’t home – out on an impromptu trip to the store – to rope Bucky into a conversation you were dying to have.  
“So,” you began casually, “How’s your girlfriend?” you asked, knowing damn well him and Natasha weren’t a thing anymore. They broke up early last year – you found out while you were scrolling through social media. But you didn’t want Bucky to know that you spied on him online so you played dumb for a minute.
Bucky chuckled and shook his head playfully. “No, no, no we’re starting with you! How’s your boyfriend? How many poor boys’ hearts are you breaking out there?” he asked, stirring what seemed to be chocolate ganache in a bowl.
You laughed. Oh well, your parents must’ve told him all about you and the boy you were messing around with.
“He’s not a boyfriend. Peter is just… you know.” your answer made him chuckle.
“Oh I know. What does he do?” Bucky asked, and he seemed genuinely interested.
“He studies music. He’s in a band on campus.” You answered, and added, “And we hold hands sometimes.”
Bucky laughed and set the bowl down, reaching for a napkin. “Good girl. Don’t you do more than just hold hands, young lady. You hear me?” he said playfully. He often did this thing whenever he met you where he pretended to be a strict adult advising you against young boys who could potentially break your heart.
You found it rather adorable. But today you felt extra confident, especially after you noticed that he had been ‘accidentally’ staring at your exposed legs – courtesy to the short plaid skirt you wore, and at your cleavage which was accentuated by the top you were wearing.
“Yeah? And what if I do more than just hold hands with the boys?” you asked, teasing. And if one were more attentive, one would surely catch the shameless lust hidden in your voice. Perhaps Bucky caught it too because he immediately turned around and gave you a look which you didn’t quite understand but liked nonetheless.
Even his slight frown was hot as hell.
“Those boys your age don’t know how to treat nice girls like you. They’ll end up just using you, so keep a safe distance.” He sounded polite, but still a little bothered – was this caused by the fact that you leaned back against the kitchen island, practically showing off your legs, chest and exposed skin because you simply wanted him to lose control for once and just touch you? Well, maybe a little.
Bucky wasn’t completely oblivious to what was going on. He caught the look in your eyes, a wild, indecent look – one he knew all too well. And as much as you were pretty and practically begging for his attention in ways which were sinful more than anything, Bucky couldn’t act the way you wanted him too. It was wrong, besides, you were too young.
“I know you do.” you said, seductively. And as ashamed of it as he was, Bucky couldn’t deny feeling a rush of excitement course through him as he heard the sound of your voice. You were basically presenting yourself to him, and he knew. “Why don’t you show me how it’s done? That way I’ll know who’s not worth my time.” You got off the stool and walked over to him, backing him against the counter.
Half of him wasn’t that surprised because, again, he wasn’t that oblivious. He noticed the way you acted around him, and how you dressed – always trying to get his attention. But Bucky had never crossed any lines. He wasn’t sure that would stay that way for long. Not given how you were behaving today.
You didn’t know where the confidence came from. You knew it would be another 30-40 minutes until your parents came back, so you figured why not just go for it now that you had Bucky alone all to yourself. And you could tell he was having a little trouble maintaining his composure.
Bucky chuckled nervously, lowkey surprised. “What do you mean, Y/N?”
You smirked, sensing his excitement and his nervousness at the same time. These were risky and dangerous territories you were stepping in, you had to be careful. Yet at the same time, all you wanted to do was carelessly pounce on him and deal with the aftermath later.
“You know what I mean.” You stepped closer to him. His body pressed against the counter and you left barely a few inches of distance between your body and his. You could feel his body heat radiating off him through his soft, cream colored sweater.
He watched you as you reached over and dipped a finger into the chocolate and lazily brought it up to your mouth, parting your lips seductively, pushing your finger past your lips and twirling your tongue around the tip of your finger. Licking the chocolate ganache off your skin as you held his stare. He hated to admit it, but something in him flipped like a switch right there and then.
Fuck…
“I want you.” you whispered, licking your finger clean. Something inside Bucky stirred. A raw need. A desire. A burning hot one. He almost reach out to touch you. Almost.
But then he stopped himself. No, this was wrong. You were just young and confused and you had no idea what you were doing. You were just a young girl. And Bucky couldn’t take advantage of you like that.
“Stop that.” he said sternly.
You smirked, knowing you were slowly but surely pushing him till right where you needed him. “Stop what?” you played dumb again.
He sighed. “You know what. Now to get some air outside and clear your head.” he sounded almost irritated. But you knew he was far from it. You could read people easily and Bucky’s eyes gave away that he was feeling guilty because you were succeeding in turning him on and seducing him.
He pushed you aside and tried to walk away to finish dessert but you grabbed his arm and pulled him back into you, pressing up against him. Smirking still. “Don’t run from me. What did I do that’s so wrong? I just said that I wanted you.” you wrapped your arms around his neck and he pulled your arms away from him gently.
He sighed again. “Don’t do this. You’re not thinking straight right now, okay? Just got get some air.” He persisted, resisting you even if every fiber of his body felt hot the moment you touched him.
You pouted, “I don’t need to get air. I need you.” you reached down and grabbed his hand and led it down your body, guiding his fingers under your skirt and in between your legs. Inching higher and higher until his warm fingers brushed against your bare, wet cunt.
He instinctively cupped you there and you hissed in pleasure. Fuck… he was only human too. And his primal, feral needs took over in less than a second. He still hesitated, and felt like he was being deviant by just touching you like this. Or worse, by liking the fact that he was touching you like this.
“See? You want me too.” You murmured and tried to lean in for a kiss. But Bucky pulled away from you, removing his hand from under your skirt and taking a step back.
“We shouldn’t do this.” He said in all seriousness. “Now stop being a brat.”
You tilted your head and raised an eyebrow. “No. But we can. No one has to know, Buck…” you purred as you took a step forward and pressed your body to his chest again.
“I can’t do that to you.” he whispered, and you noticed how he didn’t push you away this time as you snaked your arms around his neck. Feeling his broad shoulders under your touch, you smiled innocently looking up at him.
“Why not?”
“You’re too young.” his answer made you want to act up even more.
You chuckled, leaning closer. “Not anymore, Buck. I can show you I’m a big girl now.” you murmured, your hand discretely slipping between your bodies, down to his crotch where you shamelessly palmed him through his pants. You felt his semi erection; big, long and thick. You bit your lower lip as a feral desire coursed through you.
He hissed. “Y/N…” he said so threateningly. He was right on the edge of just saying ‘fuck it’ and giving into you as well you could tell, but he was also fighting it at the same time. The sound of your name leaving his mouth in such a lewd manner made a pleasant chill run down your spine.
“I want you, Buck.” you whispered again, hoping he’d see the desperation in your eyes. You were shamelessly begging. “I want you deep inside me,” he closed his eyes and fought the want to just take you relentlessly right there and then on the counter behind you. “I want to feel your big cock stretching me out,” you reached up and kissed him on the corner of his mouth. “I want you to fill me up with your cum and tell me you own my cunt-,”
You didn’t have time to finish that sentence as he growled and reached up to wrap his hand around your throat and pushed you backwards until your body was pressed up against the counter. Your words were making him all crazy. You smirked, despite being choked gently, at the sight of the raw hunger in his eyes. There was no going back now…
“Yeah? Is that what you want?” he whispered, running the tip of his nose along your cheek. He pressed his lower body further into yours and you whimpered as you felt his hard cock pressing against you right in between your legs. “What a dirty girl, begging for my cock like a good little slut…” he leaned in to bite your lower lip, tugging on it gently. His hand around your throat squeezed the sides of your neck gently.
You whined and your heart raced at how close he was to you. Finally…
“Please Buck… I’ll be good to you.” you murmured and he pulled away and smirked. You felt him press his body further into you, and you were convinced that your words were affecting him just like you wanted them to. “I’ll be the best you’ve ever had.”
One look into your eyes and he was done for. You were quite literally begging him to fuck you; lips parted, eyes wild and breathing heavily. Your body was hot with burning desire. How could he deny you what you wanted, especially when you looked like that? So ready and open.
“Really?” he teased, pushing his knee in between your legs and pressing his upper thigh up to your bare cunt. “You’re so desperate for my cock, aren’t you babygirl? You wanna show me you’re a big girl now, is that what this is?” he bit along your jaw and you whimpered, holding on to the counter behind you. “How fucking adorable…” he murmured against your skin. His voice deep and raspy and dripping with unrestrained lust.
You trembled against him. You whimpered when you felt his leg settling in between yours, pressing his clothed thigh against your bare, wet core. He applied just the slightest bit of pressure and you groaned. His voice, his words reverberated inside you and you whined; almost losing your mind due to how much you needed him in you already. He was edging you shamelessly and you could only take so much. “Please…” your plea made him chuckle darkly.
“Well first you gotta show me you even deserve my cock deep inside you, babygirl. Get on your knees.” He stepped back slightly, allowing you enough room to get down on your knees. “If you want my cock, you gotta earn it.” He spoke. You sank to your knees and then tilted your head up to look at him. You were so ready…
You hurried and unzipped his pants, then lowered his underwear to free his erected cock. The mere sight of his thick cock had you whining with need, but you decided to push your needs aside for now. Right now all you focused on was him, and proving to him that you did in fact, deserve to have his cock in you.  
You wrapped your hands around his throbbing cock and placed your mouth on his tip; your tongue slowly circling his tip. Bucky grabbed a fistful of your hair; tugging on it gently and slowly pushed himself deeper into your mouth. “That’s it, babygirl. Take me nice and deep like a good little slut…” he murmured, his words fueling the fire inside you. You bobbed your head around his tip; taking him in inch by inch until he hit the back of your throat. “Show me how bad you want me.”
You whined as you sucked on his cock. He closed his eyes and hissed, lips parted and gasping as he tilted his head back. He looked so good you could cry. “Fuck…” he moaned and you quickened your pace. He thrust his hips forward very gently into your mouth, and loved the sight of your mouth wrapped around his cock. You took him so perfectly.
Hollowing your cheeks, you felt a rush each time he gasped, or moaned, or growled. The sounds which escaped his lips made you squirm and it only added to the dampness which was forming in your underwear. You let his taste invade your senses; his scent and the velvety feel of his cock against your tongue was making you lose your mind.
You squirmed and clenched your thighs together, unable to take it anymore. You just needed some sort of release, quick. So you bobbed your head around him quicker, desperate to get him off so he could cater to your needs. He moaned and panted and tugged harder on your hair. “Come on that’s it, show me how bad you want it.”
Those words were all it took for you to suck on his cock until he came undone all over your tongue. He came with a moan and a sigh, closing his eyes and relishing the warmth of your mouth wrapped around him. You swallowed all of him, licked him clean and stood back up. He smirked and wrapped his hand around your throat again.
“You did good, babygirl.” He murmured and finally pressed his mouth to yours. He kissed you passionately, tongue pushing past your lips and stroking the top of your mouth. He hummed at the taste of him on your tongue; it was all too dirty and it made you whimper and tremble. Leaving you breathless with just one kiss.
He slipped his hand under your skirt and wasted no time in running his knuckles up and down your dripping cunt. He chuckled. “So fucking desperate, aren’t you?” his raspy voice whispered in your ear. “Bet those boys your age don’t satisfy you enough. So you need a man to show you how it’s done, isn’t it?”
You whimpered as he pushed his fingers inside you, gently stroking your walls and stretching your hole a little so it can accommodate his cock next. “Fuck… yes Bucky please,” you whined and threw your head back and moaned. His grip around your throat tightened a little more and he growled when he felt your walls clench around his fingers violently.
“Think you’re gonna be the best I’ve ever had, huh? Think you’re a big girl now, yeah? Fuck, you’re so precious, babygirl…” he murmured and sped up, his fingers slipping in and out of you so perfectly that you moaned wantonly. You were dripping all over his hand and possibly the counter as well, but neither of you cared.
You whined, unable to take the sweet torture any longer. You begged, with your words and your movements, desperately trying to grind against his hand. He chuckled, pulled his finger out of you, pushed you back onto the counter and got you to wrap your legs around his waist. Your grip on the counter grew tighter as you steadied yourself for his thrust.
Slowly, he filled you up; stretching you and had you whimpering under him. He chuckled at how responsive you were. He pushed himself into you rapidly. Bucky barely gave you time to adjust to his size before he started rocking in and out of you. You felt all of him, each vein, each stroke and every inch of his skin.
You felt his thick thighs press against your bare legs, flexing as he rocked in and out of you. He grunted as he gripped your hips tightly while he slammed his cock into your entrance repeatedly.
“Is this what you wanted, huh?” he spoke through gritted teeth, watching how you struggled to take his cock. “You needed a man to fuck you like a little slut, didn’t you babygirl? So fucking take it.” he sped up into you. His words fueled the spark in you. And your head fell back as you moaned at his actions and his words.
His thrusts were relentless. His mouth soon found yours and he nibbled on your bottom lip as you gasped. He was taking over all your senses and you were more than happy to let him. While he fucked you raw, his hand moved up to your throat again. His fingers wrapped around your throat and forced you to open your eyes and look into his. He fucked you relentlessly; earning more and more moans out of you each time his cock stroked your walls.
“You just wanted to be filled with my cock, didn’t you? You wanted me to stretch you out,” His hand left your throat and toyed with your breasts through the thin material of your top. Your back arched in pleasure as his hands grabbed you wherever he could. “You wanted me to wreck this little cunt and own it, huh?” His body slammed into yours repeatedly, and you could feel a soreness forming in between your legs already. “Who’s fucking you this good, babygirl? Tell me who’s fucking this cunt so good.” He growled.
A tear escaped your eye as you tried so hard to make his words make sense in your head, but it was so hard when his body was making you lose your mind. “You are…” you mumbled, whining and feeling so full of his cock it was unbearably good.
“Your wet little cunt feels so good around me, babygirl…” he murmured, voice low and hazy in pleasure. He moaned and gasped as he felt your walls milking him and squeezing him just right. “So good…” You cried out as he kept rocking into you, speeding up with each thrust. “Who owns this little cunt, huh?”
“You do…”
Each time he slammed into you, your back crashed against the counter, achingly. But the pleasure his body brought you made up for that. You whimpered as his pounded into your core. His pelvic bone smacking against your body, making you cry out.
You felt like you were losing your mind. The pleasure was overwhelming; the feeling of his warm body pressing into yours and the feeling of his cock ramming in and out of you, stretching you out deliciously; you couldn’t hold back anymore.
“Buck…” you moaned, your mind getting foggier and foggier with each passing second. He slammed in and out of you continuously, moaning and grunting in the process. Tears fell out of your eyes as the pleasure became too much to handle. But you still wanted more of him.
Your thoughts were a mess. You squirmed in pleasure as both his hands gripped your hips, pushing you into him harshly each time he filled you up. He growled and pushed his face into your neck, “Go on babygirl, cum for me.” He bit down on your shoulder and sped up even more. His thrust violent and animalistic. You moaned loudly and gushed out around his cock; gasping ad whimpering.
He moaned out loud when he felt your walls pulsating violently around him. His thrusts became irregular as he came right after you as well, shooting his load at your walls. He didn’t pull out even after the two of you came. He just kept his throbbing cock carefully buried in you.
He relished your warmth and kissed you; growling and pushing his tongue into your open mouth like he owned it. You felt his cock twitching and pulsating against you as your body clenched around him still as you recovered from your previous orgasm.
He smirked as he pulled away. “Better clean up before your parents get home, babygirl.” He whispered and looked down at your disheveled state. So hot and bothered, and fucked out.
You could barely breathe right but you still gave him a lazy smirk. “Not too young for you now, am I?” you teased, knowing he enjoyed it just as much as you did. He groaned and hid his face into your neck again.
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ohmystars-marvel · 3 years
Text
So...you’re mine, huh? pt. 2
Pairing: Tony Stark x daughter!reader; Peter Parker x reader (eventually)
Word count: 1,798
Summary: When your mother passes, she wrote in her will if she passed when you were still a minor, guardianship would get passed to Tony Stark. You have no idea what their relationship was, despite both of them living their lives in the spotlight. However, for someone who lived in the spotlight, your mother held plenty of secrets.
A/N: So um.....surprise!!! It’s finally here!!!!! I’m sososoSO sorry ;_; life’s been kind of rough and since I’ve been in uni it’s been hard to actually get time for myself, but I’ve finally actually gotten the time to sit down and write it out. I’m sorry it’s not that long, but I promise I won’t ghost like that again, but without further ado, here’s chapter 2!
(Also credits to owner of gif)
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The funeral felt like everything was moving in slow motion. A couple of people came up to talk about (Y/M/N), and Tony noticed how whenever the people at the podium would give you a pitying glance in between their eulogies. The older man that was seating with you earlier isn’t sitting up front with you. He sits in a row behind you, leaving you all by yourself in the front. Tony also noticed how stoic you appeared to look. You sat with your head tall, your hair styled out of your face, tightly and professionally, evenly squared shoulders; the perfect sitting posture. 
A couple of people near him whispered about you. Some admired how composed you looked, just like your mother. Some whispered that you looked like you didn’t care that your mother passed, you just cared for the money that you were inheriting. Selfish brat someone whispered around Tony. 
She inherits all that her mother worked for without having to put any work ethic in
She isn’t going up to talk at her mother’s funeral? 
She does take after her mother after all..couldn’t give a care less that her parents died, why wouldn’t her daughter act the same way now? 
In Tony’s opinion, you didn’t look composed and neither looked like you didn’t care. You looked like a kid who was trying to hold it together in a room full of adults in order to be perceived as an adult. A child trying to act far more mature than their actual age.
When the funeral was over, people started getting up to either talk to you, or to talk to others around them. Disgusted with how people talked about you while a funeral was taking place, Tony walked over to talk to you instead. Besides, he felt that he needed to get to the bottom of how the hell (Y/M/N) (Y/L/N) had a kid he knew nothing about. He also wanted to figure out whose kid you were. No kid should have to get through their only parent’s funeral alone.
When Tony walked over, you were finishing a conversation with one of the guests. Tony stuck his hand, reaching for a handshake. You accepted his handshake, and surprised him when it was a solid, firm one. Guess (Y/M/N) did teach you well.
“Ms. (Y/L/N). We haven’t had the chance to meet, and I wish it was under better circumstances. I’ve known your mother since we were children, and I know what a devastating loss it is now that she’s gone. I know you’re hearing this phrase more often than you’d like to right now, but please know when I say that if you ever need help, please do come to me. Stark Tower or Avengers Headquarters, you'll be accepted anywhere there.”
“Thank you, Mr. Stark. That’s very kind of you. I as well wish that we could’ve met under better circumstances. You’re kind of my hero, honestly. The advancements you’ve made with arc reactor technology is amazing.” (Y/N) admitted shyly, while sporting a small smile.
Tony analyzed your face. Jesus, it was like Tony was thrown back in time. I looked so much like your mother when she was much younger. That’s where the similarities stopped though. Your shy demeanor and politeness were honest reactions, no acting involved. Your eyes were also different from (Y/M/N)’s. (Y/M/N) looked at everyone like a certain degree of coldness, keeping people at a distance. Yours were gentle, inviting. There’s no way this kid can be hers. She’s nothing like her. 
“Mr. Stark,” you interrupted his thoughts, “I’m only telling a select group of people who actually knew my mother well. We told the public the coroners haven’t signed off yet. That, however, isn’t true, and we'll be doing a more private service. I want to give enough time for the press to leave, and for people who my mother claimed that ‘actually cared for her money, not her well-being to leave’. I’d like it if you were to join us.”
“Please, call me Tony. I’ll be there, Ms. (Y/L/N), don’t worry. Gives us all the chance to actually give your mother the goodbye that she deserves, don’t you think?”
You blinked at him, an expression of shock that briefly broke your composure. “Of course, Mr-” she caught herself when Tony smirked at her, and she smiled sheepishly. “sorry. Tony. It’s going to take me awhile. There’ll be an announcement that’ll be given for the burial service so please, stick around and chat. Please excuse me, I’ve got to greet the others who came as well. It was a real pleasure to meet you, Tony.” She bid him a small smile and left him standing by himself. 
When you left him, Tony went to grab himself a cup of water. While sipping on his water, the older man that sat next to you before the funeral approached Tony. 
“Mr. Stark, it’s a great pleasure to meet you. Though, I wish I would be meeting you right now at something like the Stark Expo.” 
Tony didn’t respond, but took another sip to avoid the small talk that the man was trying to achieve. The man cleared his throat. 
“Right then. Mr. Stark, I’m Philip Ashcraft, (Y/M/N)’s lawyer. Could we step out in the hallway and talk? (Y/M/N) left something important to you, and the both of us would very much rather have this conversation where someone can’t overhear.”
“You find a hallway during a private funeral? Let me guess, you wanna suggest the coat closet next? I mean I guess we can meet in there, but you have to promise no playing seven minutes of heaven-”
“Mr. Stark, please. It’s of the utmost importance.”
“Why don’t you take this up with my secretary, Mr. Ashcraft? They can schedule a meeting with you within this next week. After all, I am not in the mood to discuss business right now, considering that we’re currently at a funeral.” Tony took a sip of his water, raising an eyebrow at the lawyer.
“This isn’t something that can be pushed away! Mr. Stark, this is in regards to what (Y/M/N) has left for you, and her will states for you to receive her last wishes as soon as the funeral’s over.”
Tony sighed. “In case you haven’t noticed, (Y/M/N)’s funeral is not over. If whatever (Y/M/N) left for me is that important, then you can wait until after the burial service is over. That’s when the funeral is over and that’s when you will have my attention. Until then, kindly fuck off.”
The lawyer swallowed, clearly trying to keep his temper, and walked away, begrudgingly. Victorious, Tony walked away from the water pitcher and found himself an empty corner that no one else would bother him. Besides, he had some homework to start before (Y/M/N)’s burial service started. If he didn’t know anything about (Y/N) (Y/L/N)’s existence, then how much did the rest of the world know about you?
Tony pulled his phone out of pocket, and pulled it close to his face, pretending like he was taking a phone call. “F.R.I.D.A.Y. I need you to do something for me really quick.” 
“What do you need, boss?”
“Look for anything in regards to (Y/N) (Y/L/N). I don’t care if it’s newspaper clippings, science fair photos, or even a mugshot. Anything that just proves her existence.”
“Looking online now. I’ll check back in with you when my analysis online is complete.”
“Thanks, F.R.I.D.A.Y.” Tony mumbled to himself. He put his phone back in his pocket and decided to wait out the thirty minutes by himself.
******
Tony watched as time passed and those that were clearly not invited or were exhausted from trying to butt into (Y/N)’s business left the room. Tony saw that besides himself, you, that asswipe of a lawyer, and approximately two other people were invited to the service. He noticed that the one who told him who you were wasn’t included in the group. For some reason, that didn’t sit well with him.
The burial service went by just as smoothly as the service given inside. Tony noticed that when you placed flowers on the headstone, your eyes were glassy. So this was the group you allowed yourself to be vulnerable with, not terribly vulnerable, but enough to know that this clearly affected you. When the service finished, the two others were conversing with you, one holding one of your hands as you wiped your eyes delicately, clearly still trying not to cry. That’s the time that the lawyer decided to act. He put a hand on your shoulder, and whispered something in your ear. You nodded and went back to listening. The lawyer made his way to Tony, and opened his mouth to speak, but Tony beat him to the punch.
“Alright, bug-a-boo, now we can talk.” 
“Do you mind if we talk inside, Mr. Stark? I am required to have your signature.”
Tony sighed and made an after you gesture with his hand. “Christ, what is it that (Y/M/N) left behind that is so goddamn important that you have to dump on me at a funeral and require me to sign?” 
Ashcraft clenched his jaw, and opened the door to the funeral home and stalked into the room where the public service was held, Tony close behind. Ashcraft unlocked his briefcase, which held an envelope that was thick with papers. He pushed it into Tony’s hand with plenty of force.
“The thing that (Y/M/N) is ‘dumping’ on you is her child. She left guardianship claims on (Y/N) to you, Mr. Stark” Ashcraft said bitterly.
Tony hurried to open the envelope. There’s no way. There’s no fucking way you actually left your kid to him. It’s gotta be some kind of a joke. At least, that was what Tony tried to convince himself before he found a handwritten will that was in your handwriting. The last sentence is what made his heart drop in his chest.
In the case of my passing before (Y/N) can legally care for herself, I leave guardianship rights to Anthony Edward Stark.
Tony’s phone buzzed in his pocket. F.R.I.D.A.Y.’s search had been completed, and only included one document. Tapping on the document, it opened into a scan of your birth certificate. What drew Tony’s attention was the name that was entered for the father’s name. Tony softly scoffed to himself.
“So...you’re mine huh?”
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iphoenixrising · 3 years
Text
DickTimWeek2021 Day 2
** Day 2: Time Loop | Jealousy | Stray AU
Welp. Time to break some hearts.
They’re laughing like assholes as they climb through Timmy’s penthouse windows. 
“Did you see that thug punch himself in the face?”
“That’s the right way to get out of an ass beating by the Batman.”
Tim, still in Red Robin, doesn’t even bother, just lets his knees buckle so he can slide down to the floor and laugh until tears are rolling down the dominio still plastered on his face.
He’s riding the concussion train with 
(J)
Josephine and she’s not as bad as some of them are. 
Dick at least tosses the gloves and gauntlets before hauling Timmy’s bruised ass up off the floor, throwing the arm around his shoulders.
“C’mon, you butt. Really Timmy, just laying here in your suit? Alfred would be appalled.”
“S’why I don’t go to the Manor much anymore.”
“Ooh, I’m telling. You’re going to be in so much trouble,” as he gets Tim down the hallway to the bathroom.
“Y-You can’t! You’re the oldest! Dami’s supposed to be the tattle-tale!”
“Nu-uh. As the oldest, I can do whatever the hell I want.”
And does he tell on Timmy? You bet your ass he does.
It’s nice when Alfred can look at someone else in the family with extreme disappointment.
Tim comes by the Manor the day Alfred video chats him, shuffles down to the Cave behind the butler and absolutely sticks his tongue out at Dick’s smarmy grin.
**
His apartment is a literal mess and Dick can’t be bothered to do much more than flop on the overstuffed couch with a groan. 
Still in his uni from the day shift, he’s too bruised and battered and tired to even think of suiting up for the night. He’s been running himself ragged for two months, the day and night shifts blending together along with the usual bullshit of daily human life, and he desperately needs a night of terrible television, junk food, and snuggles.
Like he’d been reading the room, Timmy walks out of his bathroom, towel around his shoulder and hair just this side of damp.
“Hey, you made it home in one piece.” Tim’s long fingers in his hair literally pulls a noise out of Dick he can’t ever remember making.
“Yeah, I drove down because you looked like death warmed over when we talked last weekend. Luckily for you I went grocery shopping, did a few loads of your laundry, and cleaned up a little so you don’t have to worry about housework.”
“I love you. Have I told you that recently? Like, so, so much–” is muffled by the couch cushions, but he thinks Tim can probably still make it all out.
“Mmhm, I know,” and the gentle scratching against his scalp doesn’t stop, and Dick goes a little boneless with it. “I even brought my Roku so we can binge watch terrible television while you eat something more substantial than cereal. Alfred is going to be so proud of you.”
A pat to his head and Timmy is off, slinging his towel on the rack, turning on the shower again to make sure it’s nice and hot for all those bruises and contusions.
He’s no-nonsense about picking up his previous mentor and best friend, literally stripping him down and manhandling him in the shower after a low whistle at the span of blue/black across Dick’s chest and ribs, the scrapes across his back and shoulders. 
The first aid kit tackle box makes an appearance because Tim plans for literally everything ever, and Dick finds himself sitting on his sink wearily while his injuries are meticulously treated.
He knows he eats something super tasty with meat and vegetables, his belly full, before Tim pulls him down on the couch and lets Dick lay against his chest, between his legs to sleepily float while watching God-awful B-movies.
It’s the most relaxing weekend he’s had in a while.
**
Dami sneers at Tim, arms crossed over his chest, the expression on his face begging Tim to try to deny it.
The third Robin however, is looking over at Dick with horror that the big secret is finally out in the open.
“Th-that isn’t– it’s not–” Tim fumbles desperately, “he’s been my big brother forever, that’s it!”
“Tt. Grayson may be painfully oblivious, Drake, but the rest of us are detectives. Even Todd knows of your feelings and he rarely even comes to the Manor!”
Tim’s soul literally leaves his body.
Dick blinks, completely taken back, mouth open without anything coming out.
Damian raises his eyes skyward and prays for patients dealing with these two. “What I am saying,” he tries, he really is trying here, “is that you two must cease and desist this pointless–” vague hand wave– “pining for one another. It is getting to the point of absurdity. I demand you two either discuss your need for one another or take this ridiculous mooning elsewhere. The rooftops of Gotham is no place for this,” another hand wave, “utter nonsense.”
Tim’s mouth goes dry, subtly backing away to be closer to the Ducati’s waiting for tonight’s ride. He’s pretty sure he has enough energy left in his shaky knees to hop on one and be the fuck out of the Cave before his face literally bursts into flames.
But, well. Dick was Batman.
His strategic retreat is stomped into the ground by acrobatic leaps and a very well done joint lock to keep him from immediately taking off.
Dami scoffs at them on his way up the winding staircase. He stops Pennyworth on the way and turns the butler to return back into the Manor proper, citing those two needed time to figure themselves out.
**
After several weeks under deep cover, Nightwing wearily hacks into Titan’s Tower and makes his way through the maze of hallways until he hits a hidden panel. 
Tim is sleeping on his desk, only one empty coffee mug at his workstation. Even dead in his boots, Nightwing can take a second just to look, just to sigh, just to enjoy how much every inch of this boy is his.
He journeys down the hall, flips the bed covers up, carries his sleeping partner in and tucks the blankets around him, a quickly there kiss to the top of messy, too-long hair. A shower in Tim’s perch literally makes everything in life a little less awful and exhausting, not enough for him to do much more than crawl in bed against Tim’s warm body and snuggle up close.
He gets breakfast in bed and blue-violet eyes looking at him with fondness rather than awe, gets coffee flavored kisses and a slow-paced back rub that continues down to his thighs and calves and feet. Later, he gets a date night in a nice restaurant and a sweet San Fran club scene for dessert. He gets to let loose and hold Tim’s body against him, to play them both until the gazes are intense and the low key UST between them makes other people on the dance floor give them space.
**
Witty banter is a primary weapon against megalomaniacal bad guys of any flavor. For some former Robins, it’s an art form.
Over the years, they’ve cultivated their dip and distraction to bounce off one another like a well-oiled vigilante machine. 
It should have been a standard take-down because it’s not one of their more dangerous, deadly villains. It’s not one of the Rogue Gallery baddies. It’s not one of the mobster families, not one of the super powered groups come to call. It’s not someone with hordes of thugs and deadly science waiting to take them down.
It’s a simple B&E, just Nightwing talking it up to draw gunfire while Red Robin is creeping up from behind to get the last laugh.
It’s one of a thousand times they’ve done this. 
It’s a guaranteed win.
It’s the last hour of patrol before they get to go back to Red’s penthouse and snuggle together, eat and show, probably have some fantastic sex before passing out.
The .45 shell, however, cuts through the suit, between armored plates. 
Going after the running baddies is automatic, taking them down, zip ties, and viola. They’re ready for GCPD to pick-up, all kinds of gift-wrapped.
When N finally realizes Red isn’t with him, isn’t answering comms, isn’t waiting for him on the roof, he goes back inside. He hits up B for a ride in the big car in case he missed –
– anything.
The pool of blood around Red Robin is more than he can afford to lose, and Nightwing has been in the vigilante life for over twenty years, has been official with Red Robin for a little over two, has personal experience on how his Baby Bird can take a mostly-fatal beating and still keep moving. He’s seen Tim come close with the Clench, with horrifying injuries, with any of the many bad guys they fight holding him hostage.
Nightwing has seen him perform literal miracles.
And tells him so the entire time he’s got Red Robin up in his arms, carrying him through Gotham’s skyline to the waiting car, falling in with Red on his lap when the familiar hatch slides back, the tourniquet already applied before he even shot a grapple. The struggling pulse is enough of a concern to get it together.
And even if they all gather to strip off the suit, and now it’s on to get vitals back to an acceptable range. Even if the Bats cry overhead, even if the equipment is top notch in the Cave, even if Dick is still talking the whole time, and Alfred is keeping a cool head and Bruce is gripping a hand and Damian is standing at the ready to hand implements and Cass is biting her thumbnail while she hovers and Steph is moving from empty space to empty space around the gurney –
The consistent beep of the flatline cuts through it all.
**
The Titans make it for the service. 
Each of them make a point to hug Dick for as long as possible, holding on tightly.
Bruce is silent and stoic, a little boy again when he has to watch someone else he loves being lowered into the cold, unforgiving ground. Another Robin taking a piece of his heart to the afterlife. 
Steph is red-eyed, a ghost moving around to individual circles, listening to stories she might not have known. 
Cass grips the coffin with bruised knuckles, her whole body wound tight as a string ready to snap. She doesn’t move the entire service, is already convinced leaving him to his own devices caused this whole thing. She doesn’t blame the thugs or Dick or Bruce. She blames the boy that never understood how much it all means.
Duke Thomas is back in Gotham, taking leave from the Outsiders to be here for the family that took him in after the Joker drove his parents insane. He hovers in the doorway to welcome mourners, direct them toward the book to sign-in, talks about Tim Drake with regular humans and other metas in disguise, accepts condolences with his throat tight and his eyes watery. He makes sure Dick has a bottle of water after the first hour, pats Damian’s shoulder, grips Bruce’s arm, weaves an arm around Cassandra’s back to give her a squeeze, obediently looks at the old pictures of Tim on Steph’s photo roll when she’s overcome and has to see that smile again.
In the back, Jason Todd wears dark shades and a clean black suit. Roy Harper is beside him, a hand on the broad back to keep him grounded, to keep the Pit rage at bay. If anyone knows how far Tim and Jason had come over the years, it’s the former Red Arrow. If anyone knows how much agony Jason is in at this moment, at another fallen brother, another Robin gone, if anyone had held the Red Hood while he screamed and cried and broke the utter fuck down, it’s Roy Harper.
Damian Wayne hovers right by Grayson’s side, silently supporting his first Batman, his first brother. Whenever Dick’s eyes start going hazy, glazing over, Damian gently grips a wrist to bring him back, allows fingers to lace through his own and tolerates the tight squeeze that obviously assists in grounding the oldest Robin. 
(Later when the night is crowding grief-stricken Wayne Manor, Damian will be the one to open Grayson’s bedroom door, lift the covers to crawl in behind him, to wind both arms tightly. He will be the one to take the onslaught of grief, to be soaked in tears and snot, to listen to the broken, hoarse voice, to make soothing hums that ultimately mean nothing.)
Alfred Pennyworth quietly talks with the funeral director about the arrangements. Of course Master Timothy would want to be laid to rest with his parents, and the family appreciates all the support and ease of process as the deceased was an important part of the Wayne family. 
When he gets a phone call, he firmly verifies the name on the tombstone is Timothy Jackson Drake-Wayne Grayson.
**
Exactly four days after the service, the Flash is staring at him helplessly, gripping Nightwing’s arm tight, “please, please, Dick, don’t do this. You can’t think this is the answer!”
He can barely hear Wally with the absolute destruction going on around them, the machine they’d inadvertently stumbled upon (which is a lie, Nightwing had been looking for it and the Flash basically caught him red handed). 
“You know you aren’t going to be able to stop me.” Standing between the glowing portal and Wally, debris from overhead crashing down on them at intervals, Nightwing is at his peak stubborn, “no matter how fast you are.”
“You don’t understand what’s going to happen,” Wally yells desperately as the vacuum starts pulling at Nightwing’s other arm, pulling him into–
–the Speed Force.
“You don’t have the lightning, Dick, you won’t be able to get yourself out, and I won’t have any way of tracking you!”
The small smirk as the machine’s panel starts going haywire, lights blinking and readings off the charts, makes Wally’s heart clench hard in his chest, makes him try to dig in his heels, makes his stomach tremble.
“You have no idea how many times I’ve already done this, Wally. And I’ll do it as many times as it takes until I change everything.”
The pellet Nightwing palmed before the Flash grabbed his hand goes off the same time the machine hits the highest ratings and a low boom is followed up with an intense swirling suction, pulling the heroes closer to the portal’s surface.
The light grenade goes off without a hitch and the Flash has no choice but to let Nightwing go.
**
They’re laughing like assholes as they climb through Timmy’s penthouse windows. 
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biggest-stupidhead · 3 years
Text
Bad Timing (Levi x reader) Part 10
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Summary: How do you tell your friends that you’re falling for your big brother’s best friend? 
Word Count: 4.9 K 
__
The loud buzzing of the tattoo gun was beginning to annoy Levi. The little pricks less annoying than the drone of the machine. He winced as the needle skimmed over a sensitive bit of skin.
"Try not to flinch." Farlan scolded as he readjusted his grip.
"Tch, sorry." Levi apologized through gritted teeth. Farlan reached for a wipe to clean off the excess ink, revealing the nearly finished piece. Like his other tattoos, this one was no different, the design was drawn out in thin delicate lines of ink. He had chosen to get this one on his tricep. Farlan spun his chair around to show Levi the design in the mirror, a flower, more specifically a lily of the valley. More specific yet, the flower for the month of May, the month his mother was born.
He nodded in appreciation a she admired the thin stem that led up to delicate bell shaped petals. The stems faded into a two leaves at the base of the design, they were all that needed to be filled in before the piece was complete.
"It looks good." Levi mused as he stared at the aggravated skin, the black lines were outlined with red angry skin.
"Thanks, I must admit I'm a bit rusty." Farlan chuckled as he leaned in with another wipe to clean the tattoo.
"Could've fooled me." Levi muttered as he turned in his chair to give Farlan better access.
"Let me finish this up and then we can go grab some lunch." Farlan gave the tattoo one last wipe down before he wrapped it in sandiderm. Once he was pleased with his work he tugged off the gloves and tossed them into the trash.
"Sounds good." Levi grunted as he stood up from the chair. Farlan had picked up tattooing as a side hustle, not that he booked many clients. It was more of a hobby for him, but he was rather good at it. As Farlan cleaned up the equipment and packed it back into his bag Levi went into the bathroom to wash up before they left for lunch. Isabel was out with friends, she hadn't been particularly interested in visiting the University with Levi and Farlan.
____
Levi trailed a few paces behind Farlan as they wondered through the sprawling campus. The campus had a dark academic vibe to it, with all the gothic architecture and the snowy lawns. Levi's trip was coming to a close, and he was glad that he had managed to squeeze in the visit. He spoke to an advisor, who was very enthusiastic about him applying. He figured that him coming from a single parent home, being an orphan with dual citizenship and good grades probably looked good for their statistics. So Levi and Farlan left, packets of information that they would need to apply. He decided that he should give Erwin a call, since he would be coming back home on the 26th, he originally intended on coming back after the new year but Hange had convinced him to come back early. Of course it was intended to be a surprise for Erwin and (Y/n), he felt bad for leaving Farlan and Isabel early but he figured that he could make up for the lost time when he got accepted into the University. They would have him all to themselves for four years if everything went according to plan.
"This place looks as good as any." Farlan paused in front of a small pub not too far from campus. Levi shrugged and kicked a chunk of ice out of his way. Farlan held the door open for him as they ducked into the dimly lit bar. The two settled into the barstools facing an impressive stock of alcohol, since it was about three in the afternoon the bar was basically empty save for a scraggly old dude that was mumbling to himself in a booth.
"Come here often?" Levi huffed as he inspected the sticky bar top. Farlan chuckled and waved for the bar tender.
"No actually, but I've heard that it's popular with the uni students." Faralan explained as he waited for the bar tender to finish counting the money in his hands.
"Two gin and tonics please." Farlan asked politely, the bar tender nodded and began to make the drinks.
"So you leave in what five days?" Farlan asked as he grabbed his drink and took a long swig.
"Yeah, sorry it was kind of last minute." Levi apologized, Farlan waved him off dismissively.
"Wait what did you get Isabel for Christmas this year?" Farlan asked as he slammed his already drained glass onto the counter.
"I bought her the DVD set for that one show she likes." Levi answered as he nursed his gin and tonic.
"Ah no way! That's a good one! The veterinary show right?" Farlan gushed, clearly impressed with Levi's choice of gift.
"Yeah that's the one." Levi nodded, a small smirk spreading across his lips.
"She'll love that. I got her some new jeans and a stuffed animal." Farlan shrugged, as he motioned for another drink.
"Not the shittiest choice." Levi mumbled as he brought his glass to his lips.
"Thank you Levi." Farlan held his glass up for a toast, and Levi indulged him, gently tapping his glass against Farlan's. Levi knocked back the rest of his drink before pulling out his phone to check his messages.
"What time should I pick you up from the airport?" Levi pursed his lips in thought before responding to Hange's text.
"Six in the morning."  he typed his response quickly and sent it. He had already planned on arriving early to give himself plenty of time to prepare himself for the annual post Christmas party that your family hosted.
"See you then, don't have too much fun in France!" Hange's reply was instantaneous,  Levi hated to admit it but he missed four-eyes and bushy brows. Hell he even missed Erwin's bratty sister.
_____
You draped your arm over your eyes in a feeble attempt to block out the blinding light that was flooding your living room. Although the snow was pretty, it sure was a bitch when the sun hit it, causing the light to reflect sharply in through the large windows in your living room. It was finally Christmas break, and you were enjoying it to it's fullest, basking in your sweats on the couch. Your mom had just gotten back from grocery shopping and was beginning to set out ingredients for the baking that she had planned to do for the rest of the afternoon. Erwin and Hange had gone ice skating with Mike and Nanaba, and planned to all meet up back at your house to assist your mom with the seasonal baking. Your phone chimed on the coffee table and you stretched to check it.
"Coffee and chill? 🥺" You rolled your eyes at Jean's message. He had been trying to contact you relentlessly for the past week. You had evaded him, not quite ready to confront him about his wrong doings. You ignored his text and instead favored to ask Mikasa if she wanted to come over to bake.
"hey I know it's been a while, but want to come over to bake cookies with me today? You could bring Armin and Eren if you want!" You sighed and dropped your phone back down onto the table with a sigh. You were pleasantly surprised by how quickly she responded.
"What time?"
"an hour?"
"See you then :)"  You smiled at the screen as you read her response. You always thought it was cute how she preferred to use characters instead of emojis when she texted. You decided that a shower would be a good idea since so many people were coming over now, so you hustled up stairs. You were thankful that Hange and Erwin weren't home because they had made a habit of interrupting your showers. Whether it was Hange trying to join you in the shower to "save water" or Erwin coming in to take a massive dump while you were in the shower. So you fully took advantage of your uninterrupted shower time while you could. You took your time, washing your hair and the rest of your body and enjoying the hot water. By the time you were finished the bathroom was cloudy with steam from the hot shower. You wrapped yourself in towel and scurried to your room to change. You pulled on a pair of leggings and a cropped fitted turtleneck. You then proceeded to tug on a faded crew neck to complete the look. You loped down the stairs, but paused about half way down. The sound of shoes being toed off and a coat being hung up made you rethink your decision.
"Oh Kenny! I'm so glad you made it!" Your mom gushed and you bristled. It wasn't that you didn't like Kenny, it was just that you weren't expecting him. It seemed that your house needed to keep an Ackerman on hand at all times because as soon as Levi left Mikasa and Kenny began coming around more frequently. Your mom invited Kenny over for coffee on Sunday mornings and you invited Mikasa over for sleepovers and craft nights.
"Hey sorry I'm late, I brought booze though." Kenny's rough voice felt foreign to your ears. Despite his sudden presence at your house he still felt like a stranger to you. Of course you could only blame yourself here, you tried your best to avoid him and his questions, not sure how you felt about the gruff man. He seemed nice enough but you weren't quick to trust him, Erwin certainly wasn't either.
"Ah (Y/n)! Perfect timing! Come down stairs and say hello." your mom called out, you winced but obeyed, descending the last few steps.
"Hey there kiddo, how's it hangin'?" Kenny drawled as you slunk into the kitchen sheepishly.
"Hey Kenny, I'm good how are you?" You asked politely, aiming to please your mother more than Kenny. The man smiled triumphantly and leaned further back into his seat.
"I'm fantastic." he stated with a smug smirk plastered on his lips.
"Mom, I invited Mikasa, Amrin, and Eren over is that alright?" you asked, dismissing Kenny.
"Yeah of course baby, the more the merrier!" she cooed as she continued to set up the mixer and prop up the cook book.
"So my little niece will be joining us tonight?" Kenny affirmed as he stood to help your mother untangle to cord of the mixer.
"Yeah." you trailed off, not sure if this was good or bad. Although the pair had both been frequenting your house recently, they hadn't run into one another yet. You knew that Levi had a bad relationship with his uncle, so you could only assume that Mikasa's relationship was also just as rocky.
"haven't seen that brat since she was in diapers." Kenny mused as he flipped through the cook book.
"really? Well she sure has grown. Such a lovely young woman." Your mother sighed dreamily as she thought about Mikasa.
"Glad to hear it.." Kenny mumbled as he paused on a gingerbread recipe. Before you could decode the meaning behind his bland tone, the door flew open and Hange sauntered in. Today she was dressed for the weather in a downy parka and leggings with a thick crewneck. Erwin followed close behind, dressed in joggers and a t-shirt, he tended to get hot easily. Mike however was different. Mike was dressed for Arctic temperatures with a thick quarter zip underneath his north face and a pair of denim jeans on his legs. Nanaba wore a quarter zip as well but leggings instead of jeans. You rushed to help them shove their coats into the cramped closet and put snowy shoes over vents to melt off the ice. Soon they were all crowding into the kitchen, Mike was quick to help your mom set out ingredients while Erwin went to light the fireplace. Hange was rushing up the stairs and Nanaba was skimming through the cook book.
Ah yes such a familiar scene. You immediately felt better in the presence of the upperclassmen, Kenny seemed to melt into the background as he watched you all fall into a familiar rhythm. Erwin returned to the kitchen, dusting his hands off as he entered.
"Hey." He greeted you with a slight nod before he stooped to pull a baking sheet out of the cabinets.
"How was ice skating?" you asked as you leaned against the counter near Erwin.
"Cold, we saw Petra and Oluo there." Erwin mused as he sat the sheet down with a clatter.
"Really? Are they a thing?" you quizzed, your interest piqued.
"Couldn't say, wouldn't surprise me though." Erwin shrugged, his large frame pressed against the counter opposite to allow Nanaba to squeeze through.
"I don't know Erwin, last time I spoke to her she seemed pretty fixed on Levi." Nanaba interjected as she stooped to pull out a bowl.
"I thought she was over him. He left her hanging at my house a few months back remember?" Mike reminded Nanaba who pursed her lips in thought.
"Oh yeah I remember that...she was upset." Nanaba agreed as she sat the bowl in front of you on the counter.
"Then why was she with Oluo huh riddle me that." Erwin challenged, a sly smirk on his lips.
"Oh they've always been close, doesn't mean she likes him or anything." Nanaba scoffed.
"Well he sure likes her, saw him checking out her ass." Mike chuckled, your mom gasped and hit him upside the head.
"That's enough you guys! (Y/n), Kenny mix cut this butter up." Your mom ordered, grabbing you by the bicep to drag you over to Kenny at the island. She dropped a huge brick of butter in front of the two of you along with two butter knives.
"Oh I can do it on my own mom." you insisted with wide eyes.
"Nonsense, show Kenny how it's done." she slapped you on the back and turned to help Mike crack eggs into the wet ingredients bowl. You and Kenny shared an uneasy glance, you took the knife and sliced the chunk of butter in half. You slid half to Kenny and took the other half for yourself. You began to slice the butter into thin chunks and drop them into a bowl. Kenny watched with raised brows, the knife hanging loosely in his hand. You spared him a glance and an amused huff.
"Just slice it into chunks and drop them in this bowl." you instructed, pushing the bowl closer to him. He chuckled and then began to tediously cut the butter into uneven chunks. You nodded in approval as he began to gain confidence.
"Where does this go once it's done?" Kenny asked as he finished chopping the butter.
"In the mixer." You directed, as you wiped your hands on a damp rag. The doorbell chimed and you weaved through the kitchen to answer it. You were greeted by the familiar faces of Mikasa, Armin, and Eren. The trio piled into the house and kicked off their shoes and shrugged off jackets.
"Perfect timing guys, we just started making cookies." You said as you helped Armin out of his coat.
"Great! We brought our piping tips." Eren said, holding up a plastic bag filled with piping equipment.
"Oh yeah I forgot that you're a natural at cookie decorating Mikasa!" you complimented as you guided them into the kitchen. You placed the bag next to Kenny who was staring at Mikasa with slightly widened eyes, she returned his gaze with a surprised expression.
"Hey hothead!" Hange called out to Eren in a sing song voice as she descended the stairs.
"O-Oh Hange!" Eren cringed at her volume as she swang into the kitchen.
"Hange!" Armin cried out excitedly, you'd known that Armin looked up to the brunette due to her intelligence.
"Aw hello coconut head." she cooed as she ruffled Armin's blonde mop of hair.
"And baby Ackerman!" Hange giggles, turning her attention to Mikasa who was scowling at the brunette.
"So nice to see you all!" Hange gushed as she pulled on an apron.
"That was an awful long shit. You constipated or something?" Mike scoffed as he whisked the eggs.
"Ha ha very funny Mike." Hange scoffed as she sidled up next to Erwin who was crushing almonds loudly with a rolling pin.
"I'm just trying to pick up the slack. Someone needs to make Levi's crass jokes for him." Mike sighed, setting the whisk aside.
"Ah I'm sure he will appreciate the sentiment." Erwin approved with a chuckle and another jaw-rattling smash of the rolling pin.
"Kids why don't you start rolling this dough out and cut them with these." Your mother instructed as she thrust the large mixing bowl into your hands and pointing over to Kenny. You led Mikasa, Armin, and Eren over to the open counter space. Mikasa was side eyeing Kenny as she sprinkled some flour out.
"I want to make a penis." Eren remarked, a stupid look on his face as he looked to Armin for approval.
"That's inappropriate Eren." Armin chided as he reached for the dough in the bowl. He dropped the heavy ball of dough with a thump and a whoosh of flour.
"Hah! I'd like to see it!" Kenny chortled as he brushed some flour off his shirt.
"See he gets me!" Eren chuckled as Armin began to roll out the dough. Mikasa and you both rolled your eyes at the boys. Nanaba breezed by and brushed her hand across both yours and Mikasa's shoulders as she passed.
"You girls want pizza?" She asked with an angelic smile as she stopped by the landline.
"Yes please!" Eren answered before either of you could.
"Shut up Eren!" You snapped before turning to look at Nanaba who was holding the phone up to her ear already.
"Yes please Nanaba, can you put pineapple on one of them?" you asked with a sweet smile.
"Ew pineapple on pizza are you insane?!" Hange screeched from across the kitchen.
"Now now, if you order one with pineapple I'll eat it." Kenny agreed as he pressed a cookie cutter deep into the dough.
"Ugh, you guys are disgusting." Mike shook his head in disappointment as he poured the liquid ingredients into the dry ones for the next batch of cookies.
"Alright everyone be quiet while I order this." Nanaba ordered as she pressed the phone between her ear so she could jot down the orders on a pad of paper. The volume in the kitchen fell from a roar to a soft murmur as Nanaba placed the order. Once Nanaba hung up the phone the bustle picked right back up. The cookie hustle only stopped once all the dough was in the oven and the pizza had arrived.
When it was all said and done you all settled in the living room to watch christmas movies and eat pizza. As the movie began to play you finally took some time to check your phone for the first time all afternoon. You were surprised to see at least twenty messages on instagram from a swagmasterfarlan. You clicked on the first message and your frown deepened.
"cutte assf."  
"Let me show you parish"
"I cantreat you right."
":)"
The seventeen other messages followed a similar pattern. You noticed that the last message that had been sent two hours ago. You glanced at the clock and frowned, it was already eight pm. You considered blocking the account but upon checking, you realized that it was Farlan's  side account. You'd seen drunk texts before and these were no different. You glanced up to see Kenny with his hat over his eyes as he snored on the arm chair. Your mom was already dozing off on the couch with her feet in Erwin's lap, Erwin had an arm around Hange who was babbling about special effects to no one in particular. Nanaba and Mike were in their own little world on the floor as they watched the movie. Eren and Armin were joking in hushed voices as Mikasa's head lolled against your shoulder. Yeah you could use some entertainment.
"I would love to see parish."  you smiled at your response as you sent it. Not two minutes later a new message appeared.
"Woh, I'm durnk as shit."  
"yes you are swagmaster ;)" you responded with a giggle.
"Let facetime before levi punches my face."  Farlan's words were becoming clearer so you figured that he must be sobering up to some degree.
"Alright."  as soon as the read receipts confirmed that he had gotten the message your phone buzzed as he called you. Mikasa grunted as you shifted to answer the call, you answered on the third ring, thankful for the darkness in the room which concealed your features for the most part.
"Heyyyyy kid!" Farlan drawled, you could tell he was in his apartment, the surroundings familiar due to the times you had facetimed Levi.
"Hey Farlan, nice to finally meet you. I've heard all kinds of things." You chuckled as he squinted at his screen.
"No kidding! Hey what time is it over there?" Farlan questioned as he brought his phone closer to his face, giving you a perfect view of his eyebrows.
"It's about 8:30 here, what time is it in perish?" You mocked his blunder from earlier and he gasped in offense.
"That's cold!" he moaned, playing along with your joke.
"Spell it right next time!" you snickered, you glanced up from your phone and met Hange's curious gaze, her head tilted to the left. When you returned your attention back to your phone you were surprised to see the camera was no longer on Farlan's face. Instead it was spinning, the sound of grunting and shuffling was deafening. You winced the struggle continues for a few moments before there was a thud and a deep groan.
"Get into bed now before I punch your lights out." Levi's voice was gravely and strained with exhaustion as he spoke. Hange's ears were still perked as she tried to figure out who you were on the phone with. Once she heard Levi's voice she stood up and skipped over to the sofa to sit next to you.
"I'm serious Farlan this isn't cute get the fuck in that bed or so help me-" the phone clattered down to the floor, and you could make out the sound of stumbling footsteps.
"What is going on?" Hange asked as she leaned on your free shoulder to see the screen. You shrugged and bit your lip as you tried to decipher what was going on.
"No Levi, I've got to talk to her, she's still on the phone!" Farlan grumbled, his voice sounded a bit far away.
"You can talk to her tomorrow just go lay down already." just by the tone of his voice you could guess that he was pinching the bridge of his nose the way he did when he was frustrated.
"nah I'll just go grab my phone and-"
"No." the sound of bed springs creaking and Farlan grunting hinted that he had been pushed onto a bed. After a few more moments of the bed creaking and incoherent mumbling, the sound of footsteps approached the phone and then finally the camera was turned back towards the ceiling as it was picked up. And then Levi's face filled the screen, his eyes widened in surprise, you snapped a screenshot of the moment much to his displeasure.
"What the fuck." he huffed as he took in both you and Hange's amused expressions.
"Hey Levi! How's it going?" Hange cooed as she angled your wrist to show more of her face.
"How-"
"He called me." You answered quickly as you angled the phone back onto your face.
"why?" Levi interrogated. You simply shrugged as you took in his face. You were relieved to see that he looked the same, maybe his eye bags were a bit darker, and his hair a tad longer. But otherwise, he was the same.
"What are you doing?" Levi continued to grill you, to answer his question you panned the camera around the room, sure to not linger on Kenny who was snoring in the chair across the room.
"Thrilling." he scoffed when you brought the camera back to your face.
"Yeah, we spent the day baking. What about you? Seems like you guys are busy." You began your own interrogation.
"Yeah, Farlan had one too many at the bar." Levi agreed as he dropped down into an arm chair with a heavy sigh.
"And you? Did you have anything to drink?" Hange asked with a sly smirk. Levi's brow creased at her suggestive tone.
"If you must know, no I did not drink.... a lot." he answered.
"Lucky, I wish I was drunk right now." you sighed wistfully.
"I never said I was drunk." Levi clarified.
"Any big plans for your birthday Levi?" You asked, quick to change the subject.
"No, just dinner and gifts." Levi replied with a shrug as he sank into the chair.
"That sounds nice." you smiled, Hange dropped her head to your shoulder, her chin digging into your shoulder as she did so. Levi shrugged and averted his gaze for a moment.
"Where's Isabel?" Hange asked as here eyes scanned the background, which was too dark to really reveal anything.
"In her room playing some stupid video game." Levi scoffed as he cocked his head in the direction which you assumed Isabel's room was.
"Fun." Hange mused as she closed her eyes.
"And you? What are your plans for Christmas?" Levi's question surprised you, but you still answered.
"Same as always, gifts in the morning, breakfast, hopefully be plastered by 2." you sighed, Levi scoffed at your answer but seemed satisfied.
"What about the 26th?" Levi asked carefully. you pursed your lips as you thought about your schedule.
"Hmm well I'm not sure, probably-"
"Oh I forgot to tell you, Annie is hosting a party and asked me if you'd come." Mikasa's sleepy voice startled you.
"Really? Huh that's weird. Are you going?" you asked, tilting your face down to speak to her.
"Yeah. We're smoking weed." Mikasa mumbled, her eyes still shut.
"Guess I'll go too." you shrugged. Meanwhile Hange and Levi shared a wide-eyed glance, this could throw off their plans. More specifically Hange's plans, even more specifically her plan to set you and Levi up.
"Weed?" Levi asked, clearing his throat after the word fell from his lips. You knew that he had smoked the stuff in the past, but recently he had stuck to his juul and the occasional dab pen.
"yeah, Annie has like 30 grams right now." Mikasa answered.
"I've never smoked weed before." you mused, excitement bubbling up in your chest at the thought of the chance for a new experience.
"Eh it's okay." Mikasa shrugged.
"Guess I'll just have to try it for myself." you teased, nudging her with your shoulder.
"Guess you will." Mikasa mumbled before falling silent once more.
"Well there you have it. I'm going to Annie's on the 26th." you smiled as you answered Levi's original question. With the 26th only three days away, it gave you something to look forward to.
"Fine. Do  what you want." Levi rolled his eyes and stood from his chair, his whole vibe seemed to change. You wondered if it had been something you'd said or if he was just growing bored.
"I've got to go. Farlan's phone is almost dead." Levi said as he walked through the apartment.
"Oh well it was nice-" before you could finish he had already hung up, or the phone had died.
"Classic Levi." Hange chuckled as she rose up, stretching her stiff muscles before returning to Erwin's side. You rolled your eyes and sat your phone down in defeat. You reached behind you for a throw blanket to cover you and Mikasa, you shuffled over a bit so you were snuggled between the arm of the couch and Mikasa, who had followed you. Using the arm as a pillow you lied down as much as you could with Mikasa still using your side as a pillow, she had stretched out as well to prop her feet up in Eren's lap. Eren was already passed out, his head leaning against Armin's shoulder, who was in a similar position to you. It was nice, you hadn't made much time for nights like these recently. Since you had spent most of your time with Jean you had neglected your friends, and you felt awful about it.
You had missed them deeply, in fact this had probably been the longest you'd gone without a weekend like this. Your family had been close to the Jeagers since you were babies. Your mom and Dr. Jeager both worked at the same hospital and often worked together, they had only grown closer when your father died of cancer when you were 9. Grisha and Carla had helped your mother our a lot the months following his death. Meaning you spent a lot of time with Eren and Mikasa, and by extension Armin. That same year was when they took in Mikasa since Kenny had been deemed "unfit" for a second child in his care. You assumed that the Jeagers would be coming over for Lunch like they always did on Christmas, as well as Armin and his grandfather. You felt your eyelids grow heavy as you thought about all the preparations that were needed for you to host this year, and before you knew it you had fallen asleep.
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nonstoplover · 3 years
Text
happily ending catastrophies ~ Fred Weasley
summary: Fred is accidentally (and fortunately) at the right place in the right time, and is able to save a muggle girl's life.
pairing: Fred Weasley x muggle (female) reader
words: 5K
meaning of: (y/h/c) means 'your hair colour'
(kinda) warnings: (1) this plays after the war and Fred lives, because i refuse to accept anything else; (2) i'm not from the UK so excuse the possible mistakes i made about the underground; (3) also there are a couple time jumps, i didn't want to drag it for too long and had quite a few ideas i wanted to write
a/n: this was an idea born whilst i was studying for this year's most difficult exam at uni lol but i thought it was worth giving a shot so here it goes xx
my masterlist
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(y/n) wakes up to the sweet scent of some kind of flower filling up her nose and lungs. Despite the panging in her head she cracks her eyes open to find the source, though as soon as she takes in the totally unfamiliar room around her, the flower immediately gets forgotten.
What the hell?
She frowns, pushing her upper body up on her elbows to get a better look around. She has never seen this room ever before. Or has she? Suddenly she's not so sure as a foggy memory appears in her mind. Her glance travels across the cardboard boxes beside the wall on the floor, piled high on top of each other, then a desk, a wardrobe, arriving to the bedside table that has a lamp and several strange things - looking like some foreign country's small candies in colourful wrapping - on the wooden surface.
Sitting up fully she tries to move her legs to place them on the floor, but finds that it's much harder than it usually is - than it should be. All her attention turn to her legs now and the weird feeling that surrounds her left leg she hasn't noticed before. Carefully she lifts the covers that wrapped her body in a warm embrace to see what's wrong with her leg. A gasp leaves her lungs right away as her eyes fall on the cast wrapped around it from her knees straight to her toes.
In that exact moment the door slowly opens and her eyes snap towards the entering figure - a flaming red haired young man - whilst her fingers scramble to get the blanket back on her lower body, hiding the lack of clothing she's wearing as she's in nothing else but her underwear.
"Ah, you're awake! How are you?" He asks when his eyes connect with hers and slightly widen.
And his voice brings back everything. Literally everything to her mind about how she got here, all the memories flashing by in front of her inner eyes.
- - - - - - - flashback - - - - - - -
Friday the 13th. The day of misfortune and disasters. (y/n) huffs as she makes her way down the street towards the underground station to go back to her apartment. Now she knows this fact from experience.
She woke up a bit late that morning and didn't have time to drink her usual morning coffee in the comfort of her home, so she had to wait until her first break at work to drink one. When she just finished brewing a cup for herself in the small kitchen at her work, the handle of her favourite mug she kept in there broke and the now handle-less mug full of the brown beverage fell to the ground and shattered to a thousand tiny pieces, and if it wasn't already bad enough, the coffee splashed on her white shirt, colouring it light brown and leaving a wet stain behind all across her chest.
After that she managed to get through the day quite normally, right until 3pm, when her boss called her in to his office.
"The company is facing a hard time," his voice still echoes inside her head, making her shiver in sadness and anger. "I'm sorry, (y/n), the performance you showed us in the past two years was truly great, but you gotta understand that I have to decrease the number of employees. And that unfortunately includes you. I'm sorry."
If the way she worked was actually 'truly great', then why do they fire her and not someone else?
Well, probably her boss told the exact same thing to everyone he kicked out today, she thinks, but it doesn't help at all - it doesn't get her her job back.
So half an hour ago she packed everything in a box and set off to go back home, mentally raging about the cursed day. She has never believed in any superstition like this, but today she's changed her mind. Maybe all these things are true.
And that's when the next string of catastrophies starts.
As she's moving along the pavement next to the tracks at the station, the heel of her shoe breaks and she stumbles, her box flying away from her grip, all the contents of it scattering all over the ground. (y/n) tries gaining her balance back, taking a couple steps back, but the pavement disappears from under her feet as she reaches the edge, completely unaware of it.
She falls back, down to the tracks, and an impossible pain shoots up from her left leg as she lands, the air totally knocked out from her lungs. As she tries catching her breath, her hands move to lay flat on the ground so she can push herself up, but the world around her seems like it's spinning and she feels too weak to move a single muscle in her body.
Everything decelerates into slow motion and she glances around to see what she could do when something bright catch her eyes. A shiny warm yellow circle in the distance, getting slightly bigger and bigger with every second. She observes it carefully, thinking about how pretty it looks as she wonders what it might be. It only takes a second or two for her mind to catch up and suddenly she's more than aware that a train comes towards her and she's not capable to do anything to stop the collision from happening.
Friday the 13th.
Out of nowhere she feels a presence next to her, and just as she turns her head that way to see what's going on and her eyes fall on locks of bright red hair and a freckled face, the man has already grabbed her arm and with a fierce pull hoisted her up to a standing position. It feels like her arm is ripped out from her body, for a moment even the unstoppable hurting from her leg fades out to give space for the one in her upper body and she gasps before everything goes black.
- - - - - - - end of flashback - - - - - - -
The following events go by as a dozen of blurry pictures (y/n) can't make out in her mind and she blinks a couple times to get back to the present, to reality. She focuses on the redhead again, the last person she clearly remembers seeing.
"Where am I?" Her voice comes out hoarse and quiet and she clears her throat, waiting for his answer, knowing how she behaves quite rude completely ignoring his question, but she just can't help it.
She hasn't a clue where they could be, she's never seen a place like this in her entire life. It's obvious it's not a hospital. And after what happened it's just as obvious that she needs hospital treatment.
"The Burrow," he replies with a small smile playing on his lips.
And though she thought his answer would help clear some of the fog inside her head, it only confuses her more. Fred bites back the chuckle that threatens to burst from him seeing her cute frowning expression and waits for her to ask again, knowing it'll soon happen.
"The what?" The girl speaks up again, her voice now much clearer.
"My family home."
The confusion still stays on her face, and Fred truly can't blame her for it - who wouldn't be distraught after waking up in a stranger's home? Still, seeing the same expression he first ever saw on her face brings him back to the Tube station in London.
- - - - - - - Fred's flashback - - - - - - -
He's rushing down the stairs to catch the apparently soon arriving underground train, cursing his twin brother under his breath for winning the bet that resulted in the usage of any and every magical thing being forbidden for Fred for this whole week. Now he has to run errands adjusting to the timetables of muggle public transport and he's running out of time. Everything takes so much more time in the muggle world, and in the past few days he's grown to appreciate being born into the world of magic more than ever.
Arriving next to the tracks he catches sight of a dozen or so people there and relief fills his body. So the train hasn't left yet. He slows down to a walking pace and tries to catch his breath, and that's when he notices something weird about the people, something he has never seen in the past days when he used the Tube. They're all moving closer to each other, slowly making a tight circle, all of them looking in the same direction, as if something was on the tracks.
Curiosity rises in Fred and he makes his way to the edge of the crowd, standing on his toes to tower over it and glance down. His eyes immediately fall on a young woman lying there, one of her legs twisted in an abnormal way. She's looking to the side, towards the tunnel from where the train should arrive any minute now. Her expression displays confusion and slight fear, but her breathtaking beauty is still obvious, and it makes his heart skip a beat. His eyes slowly turn to where she's looking and he can see the light that swiftly grows brighter and brighter inside the usually dark tunnel, but his mind can't comprehend what he sees as all his thoughts are still only about the gorgeous woman lying there.
"The train's coming!" Somebody in the crowd shouts and that's what wakes Fred from his daze. His head snaps back and forth from the tunnel to the girl a couple times, so fast it's a miracle his neck doesn't break.
His body moves before he can fully think about his actions and suddenly he's pushing people away to make a path for himself in the crowd and he jumps down to the tracks. He hears a couple gasps from behind him, even a couple voices trying to inform him again and again that the train is actually soon there, but he doesn't care. All he focuses on is the task in front of him.
Squatting down he grabs one of the woman's arms and drapes it around his shoulder, standing up again as fast as he can, pulling her with him a bit harsher than he intended. She lets out a gasp in obvious pain, but he knows there's no time to be more gentle. Both of his arms move around her, one around her shoulder blades and one around the backs of her thighs to lift her up bridal style as he knows one of her legs is broken and she can't stand on it. And he's thankful for his own speed and thoughtful actions as he feels her body go limp as she faints.
The head-splittingly loud sound of a horn fills the air just as he turns around, signalling that they were noticed by the people on the train. As he takes the first few steps back towards the pavement he glances up, seeing two or three men already there bending down with their arms stretching in his direction. Fred quickens his pace as much as he's able to and practically throws the woman in the waiting hands, helping them pull her up by pushing her body from under, the screeching of brakes, iron on iron being the only sound that can be heard.
He stays on the tracks until he's completely sure that she's safe, than he grabs the edge of the pavement and swiftly pushes himself up, crawling on the cold surface until his legs are lying there as well. He feels a breeze moving against his back as the train arrives to the station, but he doesn't care about it, neither the cheering that erupts from the people around him, celebrating his heroic act, not even the burning feeling in his muscles from being strained. He just pushes himself up and stumbles to the woman, falling back down on his knees to be able to get a better look of her.
From up close he can see how she's even younger than he has thought, probably close to his age. She's obviously falling in and out of unconsciousness every other second. The word 'ambulance' enters his ears from the people around them, and he finds himself with a new task ahead of him. Somehow he has to get the girl away from this place and back to the shop so he can take her to the Burrow. Muggle hospital treatment isn't enough now, the wizarding world offered much better methods of healing. His mother will know what to do.
- - - - - - - end of Fred's flashback - - - - - - -
"And why am I here?" (y/n) continues asking.
"You broke your leg."
"Yeah, I figured, but shouldn't I be in a hospital then?" She tilts her head, raising an eyebrow.
"This is better than a muggle hospital," the young man shrugs.
"Mu... a what?"
"Ah, sorry. Slipped out," he let out a small chuckle, scratching the back of his neck in slight embarrassment.
Here comes the moment he dreaded. When he has to explain the existence of magic and the wizarding world to a completely clueless person and trying to do that without making a complete fool out of himself in front of the angel-like girl when she won't believe him - which he's sure she'll do.
"Wait, who are you? I don't even know your name," she speaks up again. "And how could I truly thank you for saving my life if I don't know even that?"
"There's no need to thank me," Fred protests.
"Of course there is!" (y/n) squeals as loudly as her weakened state allows. "Not everyone would jump down to the tracks when there's a train coming to save a complete stranger."
"Yeah, well, true," he mumbles, thinking back to how nobody did anything for her, anger filling his veins. Then he clears his throat, shaking his head to get rid of the negative thoughts and to focus on the girl again. "I'm Fred. Fred Weasley."
"Thank you for all you did, Fred. I'm (y/n) (y/l/n)," she sticks her hand out and a smile makes it's way to Fred face, matching the one on hers as he steps closer to shake her hand.
- - - - - - - 2 months later - - - - - - -
"I'm absolutely fine, Freddie, stop acting like I'm made of porcelain. I'm totally able to walk down the stairs on my own two feet," (y/n)'s giggling voice fills the air on the second floor of the Burrow when the redhead gently pulled her arm around his neck as he's done so many times in the past weeks.
"Alright, alright, I get it," Fred puts his hands up in surrender, backing away as laughter erupts from his throat and he turns his head away to hide the blush forming on his cheeks from the nickname she used.
Unfortunately he only gets completely face to face with his smirking twin brother who winks his way before pushing past him, a knowing chuckle sounding from him as he rushes downstairs, past (y/n), who follows him right away, only a bit slower, with Fred's careful, watching eyes trained on her back.
"See? I told you," the girl glances back at him over her shoulder after arriving downstairs, not stopping on her way to the dining table, only to stumble in a shoe someone left in the way. Fred immediately reaches out to grab her elbow and stop her from falling. From the strength of his attentive pull on her arm, instead of flying to the ground she crashes into his chest.
"I don't know, I'm not so sure," he teases, looking down with a smirk playing on his lips.
(y/n) moves her head up to connect her eyes with his, and Fred glances around her face, taking in the pink colour of her skin on her cheeks caused by the embarrassment of almost falling, then as his eyes reach the sight of her lips, he suddenly becomes almost too aware of how close the two of them actually are, and the breath hitches in his throat.
"Come on, kids, dinner's gonna get cold!" Molly's voice breaks the moment they shared and (y/n) regains balance, then gently pushing the boy away she turns around and limps the rest of the way to the dining table.
All of the Weasleys are already sitting there, watching the two of them appear in sight, and (y/n) has to bite back a giggle, still not used to the seemingly infinite number of redheads, all smiling wide and sweet at her. George pulls the chair she has always sat on ever since she was able to get downstairs out for her, offering a helping hand knowing that it's harder to sit down with only one properly working leg. Fred reaches out for her other arm just as she makes contact with George's hand, and the two of them don't let go until she's stopped moving.
She glances back and forth between the two boys sitting on either side of her, rolling her eyes at how overly protective both of them behave, when she's already told them hundreds of times that she's able to get by on her own.
The meal is delicious and the company is entertaining, just like it has always been since (y/n) stepped foot into the Burrow. Conversation flows without a hitch, only the occasional laughter breaking it for a second or two, and the (y/h/c) girl finds it hard to think about the inevitable - the moment that's coming fast, the moment when she has to leave these people and go back to her normal life. The Weasleys has become like a second family for her, and she fears that if she walks out that door, she'll never see them again. They're living a different life, in a completely different world. Their paths most likely will never cross again. She tries to brush off the sad thoughts, knowing that she'll have all the time to mope and grieve when she's back in her (ordinary and plain) flat on her own.
As she's helping Molly clean the dishes after the family finishes dinner, (y/n) pauses for a moment to glance at the redhaired woman. "Thank you for letting me stay here and for taking such good care of me."
"Oh, sweetie, you're more than welcome. It's our pleasure to have you here."
"That's true," Ginny chimes in with a joyful grin on her face as she places another dirty plate in front of her mother. "Your presence brightened up our boring lives."
"Boring?" (y/n) lets a loud laugh escape her throat. "Your lives are nothing even close to boring. Everything around here is breathtaking and spectacular."
"Is it though?"
"Try living my life for a week or so, and you'll know what boring really means," she shakes her head, the different memories and thoughts swiftly filling her mind as she turns around to lean the small of her back against the counter top, her eyes instantly connecting with Fred's, who's still sitting at the table, shamelessly watching her with searching eyes.
"I still can't believe there's a whole world of wizards and witches that we have absolutely no clue about. It makes me wonder how many things are there that's hidden from us. And it makes me scared how clueless we all are in the muggle world."
(y/n)'s only able to stand the intensity of his gaze for a couple seconds before she has to turn her head away, feeling the blood rush to her cheeks and heat them up. She swallows, only hoping that it stays unnoticed by the boy, but when she finally dares to glance back for the shortest of moments, she catches sight of a small smirk playing on his lips and she knows that nothing has gone unnoticed by him. Clearing her throat she tries to find something else to say, speaking the first words that come to her mind.
The newly learned word still rolls uncertainly from her tongue, not sure if she says it correctly, but when her restlessly moving eyes accidentally catch Fred's again, she sees a new kind of glint sparkling in his eyes, and it's enough to let her know that she used it correctly.
"It's not your fault," Ginny places a hand probably destined to be reassuring on the older girl's shoulder. "We're just too good at hiding it."
The two of them share a laugh, and unbeknownst to (y/n), it turns the shape of Fred's eyes into something that very much resembles a heart. His own heart flutters at the sound, the temperature of the room suddenly feeling too hot for him to bear, and he abruptly kicks his chair back, standing up and swiftly moving out of the house to get some fresh air and somehow try to cool the fire that's burning inside of his chest.
(y/n)'s eyes follow him, an eyebrow raised in question, deep in her thoughts right until the door closes shut again behind the boy. The sudden noise brings her back to the present and she shakes her head to get rid of the things running around in her head.
"Anyway, I gotta go upstairs and pack. I really have to go back home now," she sighs, pushing her body away from the counter.
"I'll come help you," Ginny immediately offers, hurrying after her.
Two and a half hours and a heart wrenching goodbye later (y/n) and Fred come to a stop outside her apartment's door, both of them feeling a previously never felt sadness fill their hearts.
All (y/n) can think of is flashing images of the flaming red haired boy. The way he sat at the edge of the bed she was lying in, telling her everything about the wizarding world. The way he lifted her up so effortlessly as if she weighed nothing to bring her downstairs when she was unable to walk in the first weeks. The way he walked her around the house and the garden, showing her everything and explaining things to her, adjusting to her extremely slow pace without a word. The way he showed her multiple of the products he and his twin brother sell in their shop, sometimes only speaking of their effects, other times even showing her, not caring with the fact it caused something inconvenient for himself as long as he made her laugh - which she did so many times and so hard that it made her sides hurt. The clothes he let her have when winter set in and her own became too thin to keep her warm, and the way the material smelled like him. The lingering touches of his calloused fingertips against the skin of her cheeks when he thought she was fast asleep - when in fact she was completely awake, fighting back the urge to press her face further into his touch.
In the meantime all Fred can think of is flashing images of the gorgeous muggle girl. The genuine curiosity that sparkled in her eyes whenever he told her about the world he's living in, the endless amount of questions she's asked him about anything and everything, the pure interest she showed from the first time he told her about the existence of magic. The way she bonded with each and every member of the Weasley family, finding a common thing with all of them and eventually making them all grow fond of her. The way she told him all about the muggle world and her own life, sharing all the details with him without hesitation - trusting him right away. The way his name rolled from her tongue - even more when she called him Freddie. The bubbling, loud laughter that erupted from her throat when he told her about the shop and all the pranks George and him did back in Hogwarts or when he showed her the products they now sell in the shop, the laugh that always made his heart skip a beat, the laugh he couldn't help but adore along with the fact that she seemingly didn't care the slightest bit how loud she is or how funny her laughter might sound. The way she looked in his clothes, always taking his breath away, making him wish nothing more in the rest of his life than to see that very sight every day as long as he lived - and possibly even after that.
"Well, thanks for getting me home," (y/n) points at the door behind her back as she looks up into his mesmerizing eyes. "And for jumping down in front of a train for me. And for letting me into your family home. And for taking care of me."
"It was the least I could do," Fred smiles sheepishly, his mind spinning, trying to come up with something to say that would keep the girl in his life.
"Bye, Freddie," she hesitates for a moment, then decides it doesn't matter anymore and leans in, pressing a soft kiss on his left cheek.
Fred's eyes flutter closed, heart bursting with the sudden feeling of love from both her lips touching his skin and the oh so loved nickname. He freezes, unable to think anything else than eight very important letters.
The girl moves back, fiddling with her keys to find the correct one, pushing it in the slot and turning it, gently shoving the door until it's wide open. She steps in, her eyes taking in the furniture and decoration she once loved but now finds unbelievably plain and mundane. A sigh escapes her lungs and she turns around to close the door - and wave once more the boy.
Fred still stands in the exact same spot, obviously not moving even the slightest bit since she backed away from him. (y/n) raises her hand to wiggle goodbye with her fingers at him whilst moving to close the door with the other hand, already feeling the tears blur her vision as she tries to take in the sight of him as best as she can to be able to remember him forever.
"Wait!" Fred exclaims, placing a palm flat against the wooden material to stop it before it fully closes.
This time (y/n)'s the one to freeze, hand pausing high in the air and she even holds back the breath in her lungs as she waits for him to continue.
"Can we meet again?"
Her eyes widen in surprise. She always thought that he'd never want to see her again. That he'd be happy to finally get rid of her and be able to continue his life as before. He wants to meet with her again?
"I... y-yes, of course," she stutters, heart stammering inside her ribcage so wild and loud, she's almost sure he can hear it.
The extremely wide smile that splits his face in two hearing her answer makes it impossible for her not to mirror it, her own lips curving on their own accord. Fred, feeling the previous nervous shyness evaporate from his body and the always present confidence fill his vein up again, takes a step closer to her, then another until he's right beside the door, gently pushing it wider open again. (y/n)'s hand on the door handle inside goes limp, and she lets it fall down to hang loose beside her body as Fred steps inside.
When he's so close that she can feel the breath coming from his nose reach the skin of her face, his lips open again to let out a whisper. "Can I kiss you?"
The already abnormal rhythm her heart beats in gets even more uneven, and her head moves in a nod as she breathes out the word 'yes'. Fred's eyes sparkle up even more, and his hands slowly start moving up, one reaching out to gently caress her cheek whilst the other wraps around the small of her back. Slowly, extremely slowly he leans down, pausing for a second just before their lips could touch, and as a wave of impatience rushes through the girl, she raises her head and presses her lips against his.
Fred lets out a muffled chuckle at her eagerness before tilting his head and snaking his arm further around her torso to pull her flush against his own body, his hand that's resting on her cheeks moving slightly further back until his fingers completely disappear in her (y/h/c) locks, his lips moving passionately against hers.
She completely melts into his touch, feeling like she's floating in the air, as if she's only dreaming. But when they both run out of oxygen and pull away to fill their lungs again, their foreheads pressing against each other in search of support and their eyes connecting without problem, looking deep into his beautiful brown orbs (y/n) grows sure right away that it's truly reality, not just a dream.
"I love you," he breathes in-between his quiet pants, but it's enough to make (y/n) totally dizzy as a love-struck grin spreads across her face.
And in that very moment they both know that their story is just starting.
.::the end::.
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divinefireangel · 3 years
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I've Got You.
SF9 Youngbin x GN! Reader Fluff.
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SF9 LEADER BEST LEADER
Disclaimer: This is just a work of fiction. If this piece of fan fiction is offensive to any celebrity, fandom or culture please let me know so I can take it down. Also note that this is my version of a character or celeb, which will vary from person to person.
Author's Note: Okay so I've included what happened at my uni and they way they conducted classes this semester and stuff. I hope that's okie 🥺 and it turned out shorted than intended 💀
Copyright: Please note that this is my work and if you want to publish this on any other platform, take my permission before doing so. Taking an author's work and posting it somewhere else without any intimation is just disrespectful. I readily welcome suggestions and criticisms. That being said, Happy reading! 🤍
Warnings: 13+ ages and all readers (nothing specified with respect to gender, appearance, etc of reader). Mentions of not sleeping properly. That's it ig. Lmk if I need to add anything. Binnie being supportive BF 🥺
Requested: Yes. By a cutie anon 🥰
hellow! can i request youngbin comforting you at his car (he pick you up) after you're getting sad because of something. thank you
0.9k Words.
Yes. Finally the ending bell.
" Okay write down this problem. It's a small problem only. " Y/N's professor said, as soon as the bell rang. Huffing in disbelief all the students continue to write what's being dictated. 'Let us go you monster' is all that's going through their head. It's 4pm already, they've been in campus since 8am. This is hell. But alas it is the last day of class for the week. All Y/N wanted to do was go home to their dream of a boyfriend.
It's a difficult transition from online classes to offline classes with all safety precautions and new rules to follow. It is for the students' safety, truly, but they would much rather have online classes than offline ones as the pandemic isn't completely over yet. And they're in a bloody pandemic. Feeling helpless and having to work to get a degree when there is no guarantee of a job? Would shake anyone to the core with fear.
Eight hours of sitting in the same place made Y/N tired physically, and mentally, they were literally hanging by a thread. Staying up late to finish assignments and then waking early to get to class, barely getting sleep or food, made the situation worse. And extending class just made the thread come down to a string. How much longer can they do it? Is it worth it? Are the not strong enough or capable enough? Everyone else seems to be alright. Is it so bad to want to take a break?
After ten extra minutes of class everyone leaves the room, going down to get ready to go to their home or temporary homes. Walking down the stairs, Y/N felt light headed. Was or overworking or under sleeping? Does it matter? Making their way down slowly, dreading the fact that they have to get on the bus to go back home, Y/N sighs. Walking slow as a tortoise towards the campus gate, Y/N notices a familiar figure, standing near his car in a comfy white hoodie, a soft smile adorning his cute face, waving to them.
Oh no. Not now tears, just hold on a little longer. Sprinting through the scattered mass of students, Y/N makes their way towards Youngbin. Throwing their arms around him, Y/N buries their face in his neck, standing on their tippy toes as Youngbin laughs with his chest. Fisting his hoodie in their palm tighter, Y/N clings to him, trying their best to stop the tears of frustration from falling down. Hiding their face in his neck, Y/N just gives up on stopping the tears, allowing them to fall on their boyfriend's hoodie.
Kissing the top of their head, Youngbin rests his head on theirs, shielding their face from the walkers passing. Rubbing the back of their head, Binnie removes their bag and places it on the ground near his leg, so that he can hug them completely.
" It's okay. I'm here now. Just breathe slowly. I'm here. Really here. You can let all your worries go now. I've got you. My hardworking baby. " He praised sincerely, cradling their head gently, the pair stand there for a few minutes. The cool wind blowing doesn't affect Y/N, who's in the warm embrace of their perfect boyfriend. The setting sun on this fine spring day, makes the whole scene look like it jumpes right out from a drama. Romantic, comforting, and just perfect.
They love how unbothered Youngbin is with so many people just walking around them, probably giving them weird judgy stares. But he doesn't care about them really. All he cares and worries about is his lover. His lover who has gone through so many changes recently, it gets hard sometimes. And having someone who understands what you are going through, even when they don't experience it hands on, is such a blessing. They can finally take rest tomorrow, knowing that he'll be there, right next to them, holding them in his arms as they sleep their tiredness away.
Pulling away from him, Y/N wipes their tears. Looking up at him, he's still giving them that soft smile, the smile that never fails to make Y/N feel like they're home.
Opening the passenger side door, Youngbin takes Y/N's hand and leads them to sit down in the car. Closing the door he grabs the bag, placing it on the backseat, he goes around to the driver's side and starts the car. After making his way to the main road, Youngbin grabs Y/N's hand, bringing it to his lips, a delicate kiss, shooing all their worries away.
" You know, I am so very proud of you, and how you are managing to do everything. Although I don't condone to the less sleeping, it's amazing how you get through so much. You'll be top of the class with how much you're working. " He glances at Y/N, a soft hidden smile playing at their lips. Nodding their head, they lean their had back on the headrest, looking out the window at the passing scenery. Continuing to hold their hand in his, Youngbin drives them home, making sure to take a detour to their favourite cafe, getting them a hot chocolate and a sandwich. Definitely the best way to end a tiring day. Adding cuddles in bed too.
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coldercreation · 2 years
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I'm in a similar boat as the single anon, if it's okay to share; I'm 22, never been in a relationship, never had any experience of the non-platonic sort, and I don't want to change that for its own sake but it would be kinda nice, you know? Thing is, before the world imploded, I was actually feeling a lot better about the thought of maybe being able to be in a relationship one day. I was getting more comfortable with the idea, I felt like it was a thing I could do and that I wanted to do, if I found myself attracted to someone. (I'd gone through some rough emotions in high school and the people I was around weren't the sort of people I'd have been interested in, so a relationship wasn't ever something that felt like it was in the cards for me then.) I felt able to go there, if I wanted to, if someone came along, if the timing was right, which was a hell of a lot more than I could say about myself before. And then a pandemic stole two years of my life. And there went all my progress, back to square whatever. It's so easy to feel bitter at the present and scared of the future, even though I know 22 is still young, but I guess… I don't know, I guess I don't really have a point here. Just wanted to commiserate.
The last two years really have made such a big mess of all the plans we had hasn’t it😩 the (very) little security I personally used to have in the future is pretty much completely gone now lol. At this point it’s just waiting for that next thing to happen and then figuring out how to adapt y’know?
But I guess that should also remind us that none of this is, and was, under our control in any way, so hopefully we can learn to let go of that. Yes, it fucking sucks that everything we had imagined for ourselves was just snapped away. And yes, it’s been such a tragic two years that I don’t think most of us properly even comprehend all the stuff that’s happened, being too busy adapting and numbing so we can stay somewhat sane. But, for me at least, it has helped a little to remind myself that it really is out of my control. Nothing I could’ve done would have changed what happened.
I know it might feel like all your progress was taken away by the pandemic, but that progress you had is still a big deal!! Congrats on that🧡 And despite the pandemic, maybe you can still keep working on it in some little ways (if you have the capacity), even if it’s not in the way you originally planned. It’s been near impossible meeting new people during this time, so I really get how stuck these couple of years might’ve made you feel when it comes to finding/working on building those relationships. I’m definitely feeling the struggle with building any social contacts, while also trying to stay safe and sane.
There’s no correct answer to how we should/should‘ve dealt with this plague time, but I’m sure anything that keeps us going is a step to the right direction. Hopefully the world will start chilling out soon and we can start working on our progress (and on unpacking these past years too, most likely😓🤘🏻).
I‘m also very much familiar with not being attracted to anyone/not being interested in the people around me at school/uni/etc. After uni the amount of people I tend to meet has become even less, and it really is an unfortunate combination with the whole ‘rarely attracted to anyone‘ thing... But as you said, “I felt like it was a thing I could do and that I wanted to do, if I found myself attracted to someone.”
We shall see what the future brings, dear anon, but let’s just try to enjoy the now the best we can, that’s the only moment we really have any control over🧡
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dickwheelie · 3 years
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heyyyy coming in a few days early with the “expression” prompt for @aspecarchivesweek! just a lil something about jon wearing a shirt he doesn’t like. enjoy!
(also on ao3)
_______________
All of Jon’s clothes are in greyscale.
Well, this isn’t entirely true—some are a very light tan, or a dingy brown. One mothbitten vest is a glaring 70’s orange that Jon deeply dislikes, so it stays at the back of his closet. These are the clothes he inherited from his parents and possibly also his grandparents, which he can’t bring himself to throw away. The rest, however, strictly range from white to black, practical to a fault.
Jon has a working theory that he may be the first person in history with an allergy to clothing stores. Entering one instantly stresses him out, and all he wants is to get what he came for and get out as quickly as possible. Figuring out how to match colors, as he eventually learns by the time he’s in uni, is a waste of time and consideration. Much easier and simpler to only buy clothes in shades that match no matter how you swap them out.
Of course, there are exceptions, and as life goes on in its chaotic and unaccountable way, he acquires items of clothing he wouldn’t otherwise have picked for himself. A colorful sweater from Georgie as a birthday gift. A free T-shirt from a uni event. He keeps these things for their sentimental value, but rarely wears them out of the house.
However, sometimes life is not only chaotic but also utterly unmanageable. And sometimes Jon finds himself with a promotion he doesn’t really know what to do with, an entire archive to organize, and less time than he’s ever had to do laundry.
And, well. One has to wear something to work, doesn’t one.
This is what Jon keeps telling himself as he miserably pulls on the last clean shirt left in his flat. He should know; he’s checked four times, and if he checks a fifth he’ll be late for work. He gives himself a glance in the small, dirty mirror stuck to the inside of his closet door, and looks away almost immediately, strangely embarrassed.
It’s just a long-sleeved, striped T-shirt, which is maybe a bit unprofessional for the workplace, but it’s not as though anybody minds how the people who work in the basement dress. The problem comes from its colors. Well, one of its colors. Three of them—black, grey, white—are perfectly suitable for Jon. But following those, at the bottom of the shirt, is a glaring, bright violet.
The shirt is a casualty of the aforementioned chaos of life. A friend of an acquaintance had given it to Jon to wear to a pride parade several years back, which he had ended up skipping out on anyway. Since then the shirt had been kept out of sight and mind, packed into the back of Jon’s closet for a rainy day that he’d never really expected to arrive.
There’s a first time for everything, Jon thinks, almost reflexively. The words don’t mean much to him, philosophically speaking, but they are a steadying mantra nonetheless. He goes to pull on his coat; by some measure of luck, it’s a cold day out. He plans not to take it off again until he’s safely back in his flat that night.
The trouble is, of course, that wearing one’s coat while making tea in the break room in an adequately-heated basement looks rather conspicuous to one’s coworkers, and leads to questions.
“You feeling alright, boss?” Tim asks, as he retrieves his bagged lunch from the fridge.
“Yes,” Jon says, stiffly. “Perfectly fine. I’m just cold.”
Sasha, who has followed Tim in, says, “Not sick, I hope.”
“I’m fine, don’t worry,” Jon says again, though he is beginning to feel a bit overheated. “It’s just cold in here. You don’t feel cold?”
Tim and Sasha shake their heads, looking concerned.
“I’m fine,” Jon says for the third time in thirty seconds, and promptly flees the break room.
By late afternoon, Jon is sweltering, and has no choice but to take off the coat. He’s careful to close his office door before he does so, resolving to put it back on if he needs to be seen by anyone for the rest of the day.
Though the garish violet stripe in his periphery is distracting at first, he loses himself in his work soon enough, spending an hour or two tearing through a stack of statements that are, by and large, utter nonsense.
He loses himself in his work so much, in fact, that when there’s a knock at his office door, he says “Come in,” without thinking.
“Hey, Jon,” says Tim as he enters, “d’you have a copy of statement zero-one-three-two . . .”
Tim’s voice drifts off, and Jon looks up, irritated. “Zero-one-three-two-what?”
Tim’s staring at him, an eager expression on his face, and Jon’s stomach goes cold. He looks down at the shirt, remembering, and stops himself from groaning. If he doesn’t react, maybe Tim will leave it alone. “What number were you looking for, Tim?” he says instead, very calmly and professionally.
But of course it doesn’t work. Tim’s face breaks into a smile, and he gives Jon a big, showy once-over. Jon rolls his eyes even before the words are out of Tim’s mouth. “Looking good, boss.”
“Tim, I have even less patience for sarcasm than usual, so if you could please—”
“Who said anything about sarcasm? You look good! Casual, ah, Tuesday suits you, Jon.”
Jon puts his elbows up on his desk and massages his temples. “I ran out of laundry.”
“Ah, been there.” Tim seems to have taken Jon’s resignation as an invitation, because he helps himself to the chair opposite Jon’s desk. “Wouldn’t have pegged you for the pride flag type, though. Don’t even think I’ve seen you with laptop stickers.”
“No,” Jon says, “I’m not. Not usually. This is just the only thing I had lying around. It’s from years ago, I never wear it.”
“Aw.” Tim genuinely looks disappointed. Jon wonders if perhaps he’s losing what remains of his tenuous ability to read people. “That’s a shame. You look good in purple.”
Jon has reached a point in his life, he’s fairly certain, where he ought to have heard such a comment before, or at least know the proper response. In actuality, he cannot recall a single instance of someone in his adult life complimenting his choice of fashion. He looks down at the shirt again. It’s the same as it was before: too-bright and obvious. He highly doubts it could look good on him in any shape or form. “Um. Thank you?” he says, sounding more bewildered than grateful.
“Really! It, like, brings out your eyes, or something. I dunno, but I think it’s nice on you. Not sure why you went through all the trouble to hide it all day.”
Jon shifts in his chair. “It’s . . . I mean, it’s very loud, isn’t it. And obvious. It’ll just attract attention.”
Tim looks at him for a moment or two. “Jon,” he says, “is this just about the shirt? Or is it also about the shirt?”
“That makes no sense, Tim.”
“You know what I mean.”
Jon, admittedly, does. One of the things he appreciates most about Tim is that they can be honest with one another, if only after some customary back-and-forth. He sighs deeply. “It’s—it’s just . . . a lot. I know it isn’t, really, in the grand scheme, it’s just you and Sasha, a-and Martin, too, I suppose. And it’s London, no one’s going to—it’s safe. I know that. B-But it’s a lot, being seen with everything—out in the open. By strangers. To know that they know. And even if they don’t know, they’ll . . . they’ll probably be able to guess.” He stares down at the scratched, cheap wood of his desk. Long ago, someone had carved a tiny pentagram on the lip of it. If Jon’s sense of humor weren’t buried under three layers of anxiety at the moment, he’d probably find it funny. “And I know it’s childish, to care what a bunch of strangers would think. But I can’t . . . I can’t stop thinking about it. I can’t just let it go.”
There’s a painfully long pause before Tim speaks up again.
“Well, I’ve got good news for you, Jon.”
Jon looks up at him warily, and finds that Tim is smiling at him. “What?”
He points at Jon’s coat where it hangs off the back of his chair. “You can put that back on.”
Jon blinks at him.
“At five,” Tim goes on, “you can put your coat back on, button it up, and walk out of here, and when you get back to your flat, Jon, you can do your bloody laundry. And you never have to wear that shirt ever again. Problem solved.”
“But . . .” Jon’s voice peters out before he can come up with a real protest.
“If wearing pride colors makes you feel like that,” Tim says, his voice gentler, “then don’t wear them. Simple as that. Not everybody’s got to carry a flag twenty-four-seven. Or ever. Doesn’t make you any less queer. Hell, even I take the pins off my bag sometimes.” Tim squints into the middle distance, muttering, “I can never seem to get the laptop stickers off, though.”
“But—what about what you said about me wearing purple?” He’s grasping at straws, he knows, but Tim’s argument is quite good. And the thought of never wearing this particular shirt again does sound rather appealing.
“So wear an aubergine button-down every once in a while!” Tim shrugs. “Or don’t! It’s none of my business.” He tilts his head to the side. “Actually, please do wear an aubergine button-down sometime. You’d turn some heads down here.” He pauses. “Figuratively, I mean. I’m sure everyone would be very respectful.”
Jon lets out a startled laugh. “Alright,” he says, feeling lighter. He runs a hand through his hair. “Maybe, sometime, I’ll . . . I’ll try it.”
“I know you like your blacks and whites, Jon,” Tim says, “and I’m not here to tell you how to dress. But if you ever need advice, or want to borrow a colorful, strictly nondenominational shirt . . .” He points both thumbs at himself. “I’m your guy.”
“Okay,” Jon says, and is surprised to find that, in this one, specific case, he is.
“And,” Tim adds, pointing a professorial finger in the air, “it’s not childish to care about what other people think of you. Pretty sure it’s the most universal thing there is. Welcome to the human race, Jon. You’re among us peons, now.”
Jon raises an eyebrow. “How unfortunate,” he says, drily, and Tim cackles.
Jon wears his coat home, keeping it carefully buttoned, and when he gets back to his flat he tosses the shirt into the back of his closet from whence it came. He’s not going to throw it away altogether, of course. It has sentimental value. Someday, maybe, he’ll dig it back up, if only just to look at.
For now, Jon does his bloody laundry.
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