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fayes-fics · 27 days

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Rebel

Paring: Anthony Bridgerton x fem!reader

Summary: You only wanted a quiet refuge away from the ball, you got a lot more than that…

Warnings: 18+ smut, minors DNI, rake!Anthony, innocent!reader, frottage incl. clit stimulation through clothing, female and male orgasms.

Word Count: 3.8k

Authors Note: For all the Anthony fans, sorry it's been so long since I posted a fic for him alone. I don't recall where this idea originated from other than my wanting to do a trapped-together trope for him. It turned out sweeter than I expected tbh. Thanks to @colettebronte for an awesome betaing, as always. Enjoy! <3

You are grateful to find a little oasis of calm. A small storage room that is cool, dark and quiet—a world away from the loud, stuffy ballroom. The perfect hideout from the undesirable whirlwind of your first-ever society event, escaping your aunt’s clutches at an opportune moment as she was detained by a verbose member of the Ton. Slumped against the wall, shoes removed, and eyes closed, you finally find a calm reverie, your flushed skin cooling….

Until that is, your refuge is rudely invaded.

There is a shaft of almost blinding light and then a whirlwind of movement. The door makes an odd clicking noise as it is practically slammed shut again.

And then a deep, wracked sigh that is decidedly male.

All of your serenity evaporates, a prickle over your skin at the realisation you are not alone. In fact, you are unchaperoned in a darkened room with an unknown man.

Fretting for a few moments, you know it's impossible to slip past him unnoticed. So you hope you can stay quiet enough and pray he will leave again shortly. Perhaps it's the darkness that heightens his hearing; maybe it's that you are unable to silence your breathing sufficiently in such a small room, but your hope is instantly dashed.

“Who is there?” his voice rings out loudly, and you wince, knowing it's probably pointless to stay silent but seemingly unwilling to speak.

There is the rasp of a match being struck, and then a tiny flame appears to illuminate the lines of a face. It looks youthful, handsome, well-bred… and very annoyed.

“What in God’s name are you doing in here? And who are you?” He questions as he swings the flame around, looking for a sconce to light, making a quiet sound of victory as he locates one near the door.

“I…I came to escape.” Your confession is easier with his back turned as he lights the fixture. “I'm Miss y/l/n. And you are?”

He guffaws as he faces you again. “Hah …”

“Did I say something amusing?” you squint slightly as you adjust to the light after considerable minutes alone in the dark.

“I believe you did...” he chuckles, bemused that you do not instantly recognise him. “Well, ‘tis of little consequence,” he sniffs, “as this is occupied, I shall bid you adieu and find a different private space….”

It appears he was looking for escape as much as you. But, what he probably hoped would be his parting words, accompanied as they are by a brusque nod, turn out to be anything but.

The polished brass door knob spins in his grip, but the door does not relent, staying firmly within its frame. He tries a few more times before huffing and starting to rattle it more insistently. Then, beginning to lean into the door with his weight as if hoping that would shift it.

The door opens inward, idiot… you roll your eyes unseen, assuming the man is playing a prank at first. But the more he repeats the same move, each a shade more frantic than the last, the more you realise it is perhaps not a comedic bit.

“We are stuck?!” You check, indignance flaring. The door was just fine before he got here.

“It would appear so, Miss,” not pausing in his actions as he answers, a curl of hair flopping rather fetchingly over his forehead.

You start to pace back and forth, only a few steps possible in the small room, but an overwhelming need to move to dissipate the nerves creeping up your spine.

“Well, bang on the door then!” you gesticulate, forgetting any manners in your growing disquiet.

“Outspoken...” he pauses to mutter under his breath, but it’s begrudging respect more than chastisement. He starts to do exactly as you suggest: pound his fist on the door and call out for anyone. He presses his ear to the door, hoping to hear an approach. When there appears to be none, he repeats. “You could help, you know…” he throws out pointedly, side-eyeing you.

“Tis not becoming of a lady…” you counter sarcastically.

“Neither is ordering me around, but you seemed to have no issue in that regard,” he retorts, raising an eyebrow that calls your bluff and has you springing to his aid.

With both of you thumping on the door, you hope discovery is imminent, but after a few attempts, no one comes to assist.

“Urghh! The ball is likely too loud, and this corridor too seldom visited,” you surmise.

“Most likely,” he concedes, a flash of what looks like admiration flitting across his features. “Perhaps we will need to remain in here until the ball is quieter.”

“That could be hours; my aunt will wonder where I am,” you slump your head into your hands before moving to pace again.

“Then maybe she will dispatch a search party. You are not the first debutante to hide in a storage closet, believe me. This may well be the first place they come looking.”

“Not exactly ideal, or did you forget it would be a scandal if we are found here together?!” you point out tartly.

Again, there is a flash of something over his face, as if he enjoys it when you behave the very opposite of polite.

“Of course, I did not,” he gruffs, then softens his countenance. “I shall conceal myself in that alcove behind the door,” he gestures to the corner where, indeed, there is an almost hidden indent in the wall. “Your search party shall be none the wiser. I can make my escape once the coast is clear.”

His suggestion immediately assuages you, believing the sincerity in his tone. There is a beat as you both nod to each other as if sealing this pact.

“You still have not told me your name…” a need to know it after this gentlemanly gesture.

“You honestly do not know?” prompting an attractive furrow between his eyebrows.

“No. This is my first ball. I am here at the behest of my maternal aunt. I have no earthly idea who most of these people are,” you huff, gesturing towards the jammed door.

“Some may argue lucky for you….” his response laced with amusement before he squares his shoulders to continue. “Bridgerton. Viscount Anthony Bridgerton.”

“Oh…”

If there is one name your cousin has warned you about before tonight, it's the Bridgerton brothers. All handsome, rich, intelligent… and very unlikely to take a wife. It would be wiser to howl at the moon than expect the pursuit of a Bridgerton—her stark words of warning echoing in your mind as you sense him observing you curiously. Your response is obviously not what he expected, that forehead crease reappearing.

“Oh?” he mimics. “What on earth is that supposed to mean?”

“I am… aware of your family…” You confess, unsure what else to say.

“It does not sound a pleasant recollection,” he astutely surmises. “Am I to assume my family has done yours some harm?”

“No!” you reply quickly. “Nothing of that nature…”.

“Then what?... Out with it!” a mild irritation rising as you hesitate.

“My cousin warned me about the Bridgerton brothers,” you blurt out.

He barks a brief laugh but takes a step closer, his stance relaxing and gaining a swagger.

“Oh, did she now?” his voice changed; deeper, smokier, firing something in your belly.

“Yes…” it's your turn to square your shoulders, crossing your arms defensively for good measure. The trouble is, it just draws attention to your breasts. You don't miss the way his eyes flick down briefly.

“What did she tell you?” he seems to move inexorably closer, dark eyes sparkling in the low candlelight.

“That I should not seek a dance with you,” you admit, seemingly unable to avoid answering this man truthfully.

“And why might that be?” his cadence almost a rumble now.

“You are not marriage material.”

“And is that what you want? Marriage?” Skillfully deflecting an admission it’s true.

“It’s what’s expected of me. What I may or may not want is irrelevant,” you sniff.

“What a pity. I think what you truly want may be something far more… interesting,” Anthony’s tone is like velvet as he draws closer, towering over you. Your body responds almost against your will, a flush running down your torso, a tingle in your arms.

“Irrelevant,” you repeat, as you defiantly glare up at him, heartbeat racing.

“Is it…?”

He seems to know you want this precisely because it's what you should not be doing. The tempting taste of rebellion wrapped up in a handsome face.

A warm hand rounds your elbow, and his lips suddenly brush your ear. “Also, it seems unfair to condemn me a rake based on the words of another, does it not? Should a man not get the chance to defend himself? Surely you are of sound enough mind to draw your own conclusions?”

The irony of attempting to defend himself against the accusation while acting the archetypal rake is not lost on you, even as you fight every twitch in your body, a want to grab and be grabbed, almost an itch on your skin.

“Your current actions, my lord, do not exactly dispute her assessment,” you counter boldly, pleased you can tamp the waver in your voice.

His laugh is a warm gust down your neck that makes you shiver.

“Perhaps not,” he concedes, “and yet… here you still are…”

You can’t argue with that. You could indeed easily move away, his hold on your elbow symbolic…. No, it’s that you most definitely don’t want to.

“You are a rake,” you murmur, even as your lips brush his cheekbone.

“And you like it…” he breathes raggedly, skittering across your skin as your heart pounds in your ears.

God, if that isn’t the truth.

“Do I?” you sass and pull back a few inches.

Anthony’s nostrils flare, and his eyes flash. The pluckier you get, the more it riles him up and reels him in.

“There is something you could teach all the other debutantes out there,” he tilts his head to one side and reaches for the dance card tied to your wrist, holding it between his thumb and forefinger.

“Enlighten me…”

“That a feisty young woman is far more attractive than a demure, meek girl,” he breathes, a finger now tracing the ribbon on the card, lingering on the delicate skin of your wrist.

“So you can domesticate a free spirit?” you sneer disapprovingly.

“Oh no, no. The very opposite. To let her run wild…” his fingers trail up your forearm, causing goosebumps in their wake, your breath quickening. Then he leans in, his lips by your ear again, breath hot “....and hang on tight because that will be the ride of your damn life.”

“Rake,” you murmur.

“Rebel,” he rumbles in return, goading.

Exhilaration makes you turn a fraction into his cheek, and it’s the permission he needs, moving to capture your lips with his.

Fireworks explode in your body as, for the first time, a man kisses you. And not just a peck. No, it's a soft, sensual dance at first, his lips warm and wet, opening yours and inviting you to take it further. And you do. Grab his jacket sleeves, feeling the muscular outline of his biceps underneath as his hands move to grasp your waist and haul you against his body. The kiss turns hot and electric, his tongue entwining with yours, you following his motions, a flash of heat spiking through you as if struck by some powerful force. He pulls back, breaking the kiss, both of you breathing hard and staring at each other.

“Tell me to stop…” he challenges, but everything in his demeanour tells you it's the opposite of what he wants. And it's definitely not what you want.

You bite your lip and shake your head.

There is a noise, male, hungry, utterly arousing, and then he is back on you. Kissing like wildfire and walking you backwards against the wall, velour wallpaper tickling the skin of your shoulders where your dress scoops lower. His hands are hot through the thin silk of your gown, grasping your waist and pulling you into him. His mouth tastes of whiskey, a hint of smoke and something earthy that is sinful.

“What do you want to know?” he asks teasingly, his mouth ghosting over yours. “Do you wish to know a man’s body, to know pleasure, or possibly both?”

Each option sounds wonderful, tempting, perfect even. But there is one that trips from your tongue.

“Pleasure,” you answer greedily, feeling selfish to continue chasing this fizzing effervescence you have inside, both sweeter and tarter than any champagne.

“Mmm, I thought you might say that,” he chuckles, nuzzling your cheek.

“Next question. And I shall offer no clues as to what this might mean if you do not know already…. But do you want…” he pauses to swipe his tongue sinfully into your mouth, “tongue…” he breathes, pulling away a fraction, “or…” his hand cups your chin, then two fingers push between your lips, an earthy, smoky taste from holding cigars now lingering on your tongue, “...fingers.”

Instinctively, you close your mouth around the invading digits and suckle lightly, his eyes flaring, and a groan catches in his throat.

1“Good god, I wish you had said you want to know a man….”

You have no idea what he might be referring to, but you can't resist suckling harder on his fingertips, feeling wanton but enjoying the power you seem to hold over him in this moment, his entire dazzling focus on you.

“You did not answer my question, y/n,” he scolds gently, slowly removing his fingers from your mouth and trailing your saliva over your own throat.

“Whatever you will,” you breathe, already missing him in your mouth as his fingers trail lower, leaving a dampness over the swell of your breast that makes your breath quicken.

His lips are back on yours, demanding, plundering kisses that have you wanting more. So much more. As he pulls away, his lips are red and damp, and his dark eyes intense, sparkling in the candlelight.

“Perhaps my fingers are best, for this circumstance at least,” he opines, sounding a touch reluctant, “less incriminating should we be swiftly interrupted…”

Part of you wishes there was some furniture you could push against the door so no one could disturb you, let him do whatever - everything - he wants. Because if it makes you feel anything like what you do now, you’d know you would allow it, consequences and propriety be damned.

“Pull up your dress,” he orders lowly, his lips on your cheek.

He makes a tiny noise of approval as you put your hands at your hips and grab handfuls of your dress and chemise until the hem is high above your knees, looping the fabric over your forearms, the air cool on your thighs. He drops a little soft kiss upon the shell of your ear as if to reward your obedience.

But then you gasp as suddenly his hand slides down your front and cups between your legs, so much heat through the thin layer of your silk undergarment. He makes an approving noise, apparently liking what he finds, pulling your earlobe into his mouth and grazing it softly with his teeth. Two of his fingers drag achingly slowly against the soft material. Your skin seems as if it could vibrate straight off your body and you cling to him, eyes going wide at the intensity from just a light touch.

“So perfectly responsive”, he gusts. “I almost forgot how very beguiling an innocent can be… and such a keen one at that.”

You can tell from his inflexion it's intended as a compliment; he seems so very charmed by your willingness. And you are so very eager for him, for the sensations he is wringing from your body never to cease. As those fingers keep stroking, your mouth is slack, and you press your breasts into him, wanting no inch of your body away from his. His lips are hot on your cheekbone, the other arm caged around you.

He doesn't make any move to discard your underwear. Instead, he just keeps stroking over a spot between your legs that is rapidly swelling under his touch, viscous warm liquid leaking into the silky material and seeping through onto his fingers.

“Perfect,” he growls and moves faster.

“It feels so different…” you gulp, then clarify, “...to when I touch myself.”

He inhales sharply, his eyes flashing dark, and his fingers curl more insistent against your nub.

“You do this to yourself? An innocent?” He looks unbridled now with both admiration and lust.

You just nod, biting your lip.

“My perfect little rebel….” he lauds.

He is huffing into your hairline now, scenting you as you writhe instinctually on his questing fingers. Someone else’s touch is a magnified experience of what you have done alone before. This is wholly other: another human with you in this moment, him panting with desire, his body heat seeping through clothing, his fingers calloused in a way that catches perfectly on your swollen flesh as his resonant voice and smoky mint breath pleads with you not to stop.

Grabbing onto his lapel, needing an anchor, you stare up into his deep brown eyes, the look on his face utterly triumphal, his lips lowering to cover yours, breathing each other’s air. Something hard pressing into your hip bone as you ride boldly upon his fingers now. A shiver runs up your spine at how good this is, little sparks firing from the pinpoint of pleasure between your legs. The coiled spring of desire is so much more profound with him, a delicious tension in your whole being. He keeps muttering low words of praise of how well you are doing, and how beautiful you look. Your skin flushes with arousal and exertion, and a bead of wetness runs down your inner thigh just as you are climbing to that point of no return.

Suddenly, he withdraws his touch, your responding whine trailing off as his fingers swipe through that trickle of moisture. Then you stare transfixed as he brings it up to his mouth and sucks the dewiness from his fingertips, a hungry noise hitching in his throat as he does. It makes you desperate for him, for this. To reach that pinnacle with him. A burning want to do it time and time again. To find your pleasure with him, for him. To experience everything that can happen between a man and a woman.

“I want to know a man too,” you exhale unevenly, not able to censor your wayward thoughts, your abandoned clit throbbing hard in your soaked underwear.

He groans, the vibration of it quaking through him and that hand now cups your jaw. “By god, you will,” he asserts roughly, and you can smell traces of your arousal on his fingers as he leans in and kisses you deeply, the flavour of it tart on his tongue.

“Please touch me again…” your voice a broken plea.

His smile is devilish handsomeness personified, as he does just as you ask. You cry out over his lips as he expertly swipes over that spot again, rubbing even faster now. Rocketing you right back to the point where you have to cling to him, your knees buckling.

His other hand snakes around your body and grabs your breast through your dress. It makes you groan loudly, a yearning for him to strip off the layers, rip away your stays and snag your pebbled nipple between his teeth.

“What are you thinking?” he demands hotly, and you realise your face must give away something of your licentious wishes.

“I want your mouth on my breasts,” you confess the truth raggedly, riding his fingers again, whimpering and moaning with each expert flick of his fingers.

He growls, more untamed creature than man, and he pinches you through the layers, seemingly knowing exactly where your nipple is. The sensation, even though dulled through cotton and silk, makes you shudder and call out loudly. To the point he hushes you, deciding next to swallow your cries with kisses. Stealing your breath with his tongue as his fingers swirl in a rough circle between your legs, a drag that is so delicious, it hurls you right over the edge you skate and into oblivion.

Your whole body convulses, him pressing you into the wall to stay upright, your lungs tight as you scream your release into his mouth, vision swimming, a complete fuzziness as you float away. Nothing like you have experiences alone, a hundred times more visceral, carnal—utterly addictive.

As you return to the room, he is rutting himself against your hip bone, a solid mass between his legs. The feral nature of his movements awakens something in you, and you grasp his neck and pull him down to your lips.

“Do it,” you challenge through gritted teeth.

Wanting him to reach his peak as much as you just have. Not yet understanding fully what is happening, but everything between your legs clenching and aching for something you can't articulate as he follows your bidding and ruts himself against you furiously now, grunting. You kiss him with ferocity and reach around to grab his shapely rear to encourage his movements.

That’s the catalyst he needs, and, with an almost howl, he stills, pressed harshly into you, his face contorted, slack-jawed, and you feel a bloom of warmth through the wool of his trousers.

There are no words spoken for a few moments, just harsh breathing, the air heavy with the tang of sex. Then he moves to cup your face tenderly, closing his eyes and tilting his forehead on yours.

“Good god,” he sounds gravelly, sated, floored. “I….”

But he is interrupted by the sound of the door handle being jiggled violently, making you both spring apart lightning fast, clothing being rapidly rearranged. The door finally relents, and a footman’s face appears in the crack. He likely can surmise, and perhaps indeed scent, what has just transpired.

“I wondered where you had got to, Sir,” he clears his throat, “but then I was passing by and knew this had to be you,” a barely contained smirk suggesting he could well have been guarding the door for a while.

“Jenkins!” Anthony’s relief is palpable.

“The carriage, Sir, I presume?” he offers pointedly.

“Yes, please,” Anthony nods. As the man disappears, leaving the door ajar, Anthony’s hand slips into yours. Then, in a tone that brokers no argument - not that you have an ounce of interest in doing so - he declares, “You, my delicious little rebel, are coming with me….”

masterlist • wips • taglist (must be following this blog to be tagged)

Anthony taglist pt 1: @makaylan @longingintheuniverse @iboopedyournose @colettebronte @aintnuthinbutahounddog @writergirl-2001 @heeyyyou @enichole445 @enchantedbytomandhenry @ambitionspassionscoffee @chaoticcalzoneranchsports @crowleysqueenofhell @queenofmean14 @fiction-is-life @lilacbeesworld @broooookiecrisp @eleanor-bradstreet @divaanya @musicismyoxygen84 @sorryallonsy @cayt0123 @hottytoddyhistory @elizah99 @fictionalmenloversblog @malpalgalz @amanda08319 @delehosies @m-rae23 @panhoeofmanyfandoms @kmc1989 @desert-fern @corpseoftrees-queen @magical-spit @bunnyweasley23 @vane28282 @kisskissshutmydoor @y0ur-favgerman @sya-skies @urfavnoirette @cinnamoodles @blackdxggr @alexandrainlove @witty-wallflower @black-kitten-imagines @detectiveviridian @themadhattersqueen @tinypinkdragon @fudge13 @fanfiction-she-wrote

#anthony bridgerton fanfiction #anthony bridgerton #anthony bridgerton smut #anthony bridgerton imagine #bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton #bridgerton smut #bridgerton imagine #anthony bridgerton x reader #anthony bridgerton x female reader #anthony bridgerton x you #anthony bridgerton x y/n #bridgerton x reader #bridgerton x female reader #bridgerton x you #bridgerton x y/n

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freebreadmoon · 8 months

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is there anyway you can write a cute, fluffy little story for Walker Scobell?

YES OMG I HAVENT BEEN ACTIVE BC I HAVE MIDTERMS

warnings: fluff, reader plays annabeth (i love leah dont come for me), no use of y/n, reader and walker aren’t dating but are obvi crushing

requests are open!!

You and Walker were filming a buzzfeed puppy interview, sitting in the middle of the floor.

Walker sat with his legs crisscrossed, smiling wide at the brown spotted dog that nuzzled his leg. “Is it on? Oh, hi, I’m Walker Scobell, and I play Percy Jackson.”

“Hi,” you introduced yourself, “I play Annabeth Chase,” you picked up the fluffy fured black one that was by your foot, “and your watching buzzfeed!” You put a thumbs up at the camera, earning a laugh from the boy beside you.

“Wait I wanted to say it, I’m literally the main character—“

“But I’m the best character. Walker, you can say it at Vanity Fair.” He rolled his eyes at you, smiling slightly.

“Okay, moving on! um…what’s the question? What was your favorite scene to film…um…oh thats a hard one. I’m gonna say…either the fight with the Ares kids in capture the flag, or falling out of the arch. The harness thing was annoying to put on, but the other parts were fun.” Walker was only half paying attention, preoccupied by the dogs.

“I think the tunnel of love scene, or the one where Annabeth pushes Percy in the water, ‘cause I got to push Walker really hard.” You glanced at him, watching the smile curl onto his face.

“Yeah. We did like 15 takes of that because she kept laughing.” Walker laughed, shaking his head. “Actually, she laughed a lot. We had to retake lots of stuff ‘cause of her, especially the tunnel of love scene. The boat flipped and she wouldn’t stop laughing.” He shifted closer to you, messing with the puppy you’re holding.

“Oh! the next question…what’s your opinion on each other? Um…walker is the best blonde dude ever i think. like he’s literally my kid i swear, and he was honestly the best choice for percy. i think he’s the reason i even got to be annabeth, im really greatful for him. Aryan is super sweet and cool, he’s my best best friend, we do the stupidest things together, and I can’t imagine a world we aren’t honorary siblings.” You scratched behind a puppy’s ear, letting it lick you.

“Well I was just gonna say you’re awesome but…I guess I think we make a great team on-screen as well as off-screen. She’s a true friend. If it weren't for her, I don't know what I'd do, y'know? She’s like my very own real life Annabeth." He glanced up at you subtly, wanting to gauge your reaction, smiling in victory when he noticed the red tint to your cheeks.

“The…the next one says, how do you feel about fan support? is it overwhelming? Well, my answer is yes, sometimes. Especially with people who are really like into the book to the point where they hated the casting over looks.” You had started to speak a lot quieter as Walker drifted closer, trying to get the puppy off your lap.

“I don’t think much of it.” Walker shurgs. “Only really the edits that I see anyway, those are fun.” He smiles encouragingly at you , finally meeting your eyes.

“…Yeah. The edits.” You smile at him, referring to the ship edits. You’d talked about it in multiple interviews, and you had a favorites folder for them on Tiktok. You raised an eyebrow at Walker, who continued to move closer until his head was on your lap, giggling softly and starting pet his hair like you did the puppys fur.

“Okay, last question…have there been any memorable moments on set? Um…probably when i first met her. I just got the feeling she was gonna be Annabeth, she gave me this ‘what is he doing?’ Look, and it just clicked.” He stayed with his head on your lap, turning so his head is on your stomach when puppies come and attack him with licks.

“They think you’re one of them!” You push him off a little so the puppies can get to him. “And my answer…um…I think when Walker gave me the piece of banana that was in my hair in the show. He kinda just tied it in and left my set trailer, and it stuck. So if you guys wondered what the weird blue fabric in Annabeth’s hair was, it was not in fact a design choice, it was a Percy choice.” You turn so the camera can see the small braid in your hair with the bandanna piece at the end.

“And Percy’s got one too, if you look hard enough.” He lifts one of his feet, showing the vans he wore during filming, and the flimsy piece of bandanna tied through his top shoe hole. You shake your head, laughing at his insistence in staying with his head in your lap.

While you layed on his bed, you scrolled through your fyp, stopping when you see the familiar scene of you two in the buzzfeed room, with his head in your lap. Nodding your head to the song in the edit as you scrolled through the comments.

“IRL percabeth?” He questioned from beside you. You looked at him, not realizing he had started paying attention to you, jumping to get your phone from him.

“No, I’m commenting! And reposting!” He laughed, rolling away from you. You got off the bed behind him, giving up taking the phone and blinking when he simply commented ‘real’.

“Well, so much for ‘it’ll blow over’.” You rolled your eyes, knowing the dating allegations will only get worse after this. Walker smiled triumphantly, waiting for the responses to come in.

taglist: @persassyxo @diorlorenzo @ilovewalkerscobell @paytonthereader @platypusbearrr @kissatelier @riptidelor

#percy jackson #annabeth chase #x reader #walker scobell #grover underwood #percy jackson x reader #walker scobell x reader

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loudclan-clangen · 4 months

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Loudclan - Moon 22: Part 1

Eklutna gives birth to her first litter: a sweet tom, a quiet tom, and an inquisitive tom.

The healers are unable to stop the bleeding. Eklutna dies at 100 moons old. Her kits are unnamed.

[Ooo, cliffhanger! But, then again, is it really? I mean, we all KNOW who the father is. It’s like half of the asks in my inbox. Y’all don’t even need me, heck, I could go on vacation for a month and just leave you guys to it! All jokes, of course, I LOVE all of the speculating and guessing you guys have been doing, and the only reason I haven’t been replying to it is that some of you guys are TOO GOOD (like, I had to double check that I hadn't accidentally leaked my own notes document good). In all seriousness though, I am going to be taking a break! I am still absolutely enjoying doing this and plan to continue for as long as you guys will stick around, but in order to stay in that positive headspace I have to take time off occasionally. Don’t worry, I won’t be gone! I’ll still be receiving and answering asks/fan art/messages it will just be slowed significantly. I’ll also be working behind the scenes to put together something special for you guys as a reward for being patient with my little vacation (Keep an eye out for a poll regarding this)! Oh, and if you have any suggestions/requests for how the blog could be better organized now is the perfect time to send those in. Anyway, this is all to say “Moon 22 Part 2 Oh No! The Consequences of my Actions!” is coming early July!]

Real talk though, apart from the announcement I just want to say how awesome you guys are. The community here has healed my heart in so many ways and I can’t wait for my own break to be over so that I can keep giving you guys pieces of this story to enjoy! While I’m gone please consider checking out other Clangen blogs on here! My personal favorites are @fallenclan the first blog I ever came across and very long running so it has lots to binge read, @jungleclan / @circus-clangen I’m like 99% sure they’re run by the same person but now that I’m typing it I’m second guessing myself, they’re also on break rn which means it is the perfect time to get caught up and ready for the next puzzle, @nettleclanstale who posts so frequently I am pretty sure they’re a wizard who pulls art straight out of their brain a instead of drawing it, and @crowclan-gen run by an irl friend of mine who’s just getting started out!

First Moon

Next Moon

#loudclan #ocs #clan generator #clangen #warrior cats #warriors oc #moon update #clangen comic #clangen oc #clangen art #cw blood #cw birth #cw childbirth #cw gore #cw death #cw cat death #cw animal death #cw death in childbirth #cw sad

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persevereforahappyending · 2 months

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A Legacies Secret |8|

Pairing: Tara Carpenter x Reader

Summary: You just wanted a happy life with your girlfriend but then Ghostface attacks, revealing long thought to be buried family secrets.

Warnings: None?

Word Count: 6.7k+

Main Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Sam wiped away her tears as she left Tara’s hospital room. She jumped as the door slammed closed behind her. Tara didn’t need her, she had you now, maybe Tara never needed her. She left, she didn’t have a right to tell Tara what to do or judge the decisions she made. Sam left and her little sister grew up without her, she was an adult who had no need for her big sister anymore.

Sam once again jumped back when she turned away from the door and right into Richie. “Hey, hey, hey, it’s me,” Richie said softly, holding up his hands to show he wasn’t a threat. “It’s okay.”

“Were you listening at the door?” Sam asked, staring at Richie. It was kind of obvious he was listening at the door, just as you probably were, given how quickly you ran into the room. She needed to hear Richie confirm it himself though.

“No, no, of course not,” Richie tried to wave it off. “Okay, yeah, I was listening at the door,” he just as quickly caved, admitting he in fact was eavesdropping.

“It doesn’t freak you out, that my real father was a serial killer?”

Sam searched his face, wondering why he hadn’t run the second he learned the truth. Sam hated her birth father, she hated herself, she hated being related to him, as much as she loved her sister, she couldn’t blame Tara for hating her now as well, she fully expected the same from Richie. You already weren’t a fan of hers, learning this would probably make you officially hate her even more. Sam couldn’t see how anyone could like her, let alone love her, knowing who her father was and what he did.

“I mean, yeah,” Richie nodded, giving her an awkward smile. “A great deal.”

“Okay, go, I get it,” Sam shook her head, trying to keep control of her breathing and not breakdown. She had met an awesome guy, a nice guy, and now she had ruined that relationship, just like every other relationship in her life, all because of who her father was. “I just got to stay and figure it out.” Sam didn’t care if Tara hated her, she didn’t care if her sister never wanted to see her again, this was all her fault and she wasn’t leaving until she learned who attacked her sister, she wouldn’t rest until she knew her sister was safe.

“I’m not leaving you here Sam.” He said it so simply, as if leaving her there alone never even crossed his mind. Sam couldn’t see how that was a possibility, if Richie were smart, he’d leave her, anyone else would have.

“If you were smart, you’d get the fuck out.”

“Well, then maybe I’m not smart,” Richie said softly, stepping forward and taking Sam’s hands in his own. “Because I’m staying.” Sam looked up at him in disbelief, she truly couldn’t believe the words she was hearing, she couldn’t fathom why any sane person would stay when all this was going on, why anyone would stay with her knowing how messed up she was.

Richie looked down, opening a closing his mouth slightly as if he were nervous to say what he wanted to say before looking back up, looking Sam directly in the eye. “I love you,” he said, his voice shaking with each word. Sam’s eyes darted around, searching his face, she truly couldn’t believe he said that. It was the first time Richie had ever said those words to her, she wasn’t sure if him choosing this moment proved how much he loved her or proved how crazy he was for being willing to stay during this insanity.

“You’re a dumbass,” Sam said. She wasn’t ready to say those words back yet, she wasn’t sure what was keeping her from it, she had known Richie for six months and they had gotten along right away, becoming friends long before they started dating. Sam just couldn’t bring herself to say ‘I love you’ back.

“So, your sister won’t talk to you,” Richie caressed Sam’s face, then began running his hands through her hair. “The police aren’t going to help, what’s our next move?”

Sam’s eyes widened slightly as she realized what Richie said was true. She knew Judy had an officer on Tara’s room and others in the hospital, but they still weren’t anywhere close to actually figuring out who Ghostface was, so they were truly on their own in trying to catch this psycho. “We go talk to an expert.”

Sam approached the trailer of Dewey Riley, with Richie right behind her, one of the perks of living in a small town was it was pretty easy to find someone, it took her less than a minute to get Dewey’s address. She didn’t know what to do, the only thing that made sense was talking to someone who was there at the beginning, who had survived this kind of stuff before. Technically Sheriff Hicks also survived but she didn’t like Sam and she barely counted as being apart of the whole thing. Therefore, it left Dewey, he was also the only one still in town, everyone else was either dead or had some sense and got out of town.

Dewey was still sheriff before she left town, he was sheriff during all the trouble she caused. She had remembered seeing Dewey around the station, but she had never interacted with him. It was always deputy Hicks she had the displeasure of interacting with. Sam was also never officially arrested, Judy usually brought her home, occasionally when she was feeling petty, she’d cuff Sam, throw her in the back of the cruiser, and bring her down to the station until her mom could pick her up. No, the only person Sam saw Dewey regularly interact with was you.

“Go away!” a voice shouted from inside the trailer as soon as Sam knocked on the door.

“Sorry to bother you Mr. Riley,” she yelled back. “We just want to ask you a few questions.” She really needed Dewey to open the door, if he didn’t talk to them, she wasn’t sure what she would do, she had no idea how to prepare for a psycho coming after her and her sister.

“I don’t give interviews.” Dewey sounded more irritated. Sam couldn’t blame him, she couldn’t imagine what his life has been like, surviving all those attacks and being good friends with Sidney Prescott. Dewey’s life was probably filled with nonstop questions, people and reports asking him to describe what happened to himself and to his friends. It couldn’t have been easy being constantly asked to relive probably some of the worst days of your life.

“We’re not looking for an interview.”

Dewey’s face suddenly appeared in the little window of the door to his trailer. “Give me one good reason I should talk to you.”

“I’m Billy Loomis’s daughter,” Sam said, staring Dewey right in the eyes. This was the first time she said she was Billy’s daughter and didn’t hesitate, she didn’t question the words leaving her mouth.

The next thing she knew Dewey was opening the door. “That’s a terrible reason for me to talk to you.” Dewey was no longer yelling, Sam wasn’t sure if that was a plus though, he just seemed exhausted now.

“My name is Samantha Carpenter,” Sam continued, Dewey at least opened the door, and she didn’t intend to back down now. “I was attacked last night at the hospital. The night before that my sister was stabbed seven times. I know you know what that’s like,” she said the last part softly. She might have wanted Dewey’s help, but she didn’t want to seem unsympathetic. “I’m just trying to protect my family,” Sam sighed. “Five minutes, that’s all I’m asking.”

“I’ll give you two minutes,” Dewey agreed, though he sounded firm in only giving them two minutes. Sam wished it had been more, but she wasn’t going to pass up the opportunity, this could be the only chance to get some advice from someone who survived not one attack but multiple. “I’m missing a show I like.” Dewey went back into his trailer, leaving the door open for Sam and Richie to enter.

“Gale Weathers,” Richie said as he and Sam walked into the trailer. Dewey had her morning show on but quickly turned it off as the three of them sat down. “Weren’t you two…” Sam held in a sigh; she was starting to regret bringing Richie along with her.

“Yeah,” Dewey said in a tone that made it clear he didn’t want to talk about it. Dewey took an aggressive sip of his coffee, flicking a glare at Richie before focusing his attention on Sam. “Who’s he?” he nodded to Richie.

“This is Richie,” Sam said. “My boyfriend.”

Richie smiled, readjusting in his seat as if he were about to offer his hand to Dewey and introduce himself. “How long have you known him?” Dewey never gave him a chance to introduce himself, he never even looked at him again, he just got right down to business.

Sam was a little taken aback by the question. “Six months,” she answered anyway, though she was a little confused as to why Dewey was asking.

“Did he know who your dad was when you met? Express any interest in Woodsboro or the Ghostface killings?”

Sam gave an awkward smile, turning to look at Richie, she wasn’t sure if Dewey was actually serious. She came to him for advice not to be questioned about her relationship.

“What the hell are you talking about?” Richie asked awkwardly. He kept glancing at Sam as if wanting her to confirm if Dewey was serious.

“Your killer is obsessed with the Stab movies, right?” Dewey asked, leaning back in his chair. Sam nodded, hesitant but curious as to where he was going with this. “Well, there’s certain rules to surviving a Stab movie. Believe me, I know.” Dewey looked off to the side, looking out the window as if his mind went to another place for a second. “Rule number one, never trust the love interest,” he shook his head, looking right at Richie. “They seem sweet, caring, supportive, but then welcome to act three, where they’re trying to rip your head off.”

“I was with Sam in Modesto when Tara was attacked,” Richie said, instantly defending himself. Sam was looking at Richie, nodding her head to confirm what he was saying. They were together that whole night, she didn’t even get the call about Tara until the next morning.

“And let me guess,” Dewey continued, sounding more cynical as he went on. “You were just in the other room, conveniently unaccounted for when she was attacked at the hospital.”

“Okay, do I have to take this from shitty Sam Elliot over here, or what?”

“Rule number two.” Sam slowly looked from Richie back to Dewey. “The killer’s motive,” he was still glaring at Richie as he spoke. “Is always connected to something in the past.”

“I’m related to Billy,” Sam said. She already knew Tara was most likely attacked because of her; she knew even before Ghostface said he knew her secret; she knew the moment Wes said Tara was attacked by someone in a Ghostface mask. Hearing Dewey practically confirm it though wasn’t easy, Tara was basically attacked all because Sam was the daughter of a serial killer.

“Right,” Richie said, nodding along. “But then why kill that random Vince guy?”

Sam nodded at that; Vince seemed like a random victim. Tara was the first victim, then she herself was attacked at the hospital but it didn’t seem like Ghostface actually wanted to kill her, more like just scare her. You and Tara’s friends were all at that bar, you worked at the bar, you had been outside seconds after Vince was attacked, meaning Ghostface wanted Vince for some reason, no one else.

“That’s for you to figure out,” Dewey said. “And rule number three, and this is the most important rule.” Sam turned in her seat so she could give Dewey her full attention. “The first victim always has a friend group, that the killer is apart of.” Sam nodded along, she remembered that being a theme in all the movies from the one time she saw them, and hearing about the real-life stories. “Does your sister have a closeknit group of friends?”

“Yeah,” Sam said, nodding, Tara had exactly that. “She does.”

“Then look for the killer there.”

She knew Dewey’s logic; she knew from his experience that this was always how it went down. Sam couldn’t imagine it though; she couldn’t picture any of Tara’s friends attacking her. Tara knew all of her friends since she was a little kid, Sam baby sat all of them, they literally grew up together, Sam watched them grow up. The only person who was new to the group, or she guessed more so, new to Tara’s life, was you.

“If you can find out why they’re doing this,” Dewey continued. “You can figure out who’s next.” That made sense as well; despite never understanding why someone would dress up and kill all their friends, the killer always had some sort of twisted motive and that motive tended to explain who their victims were and would be.

“So, help us,” Sam tried pleading. She knew it was a long shot. Dewey hadn’t even wanted to let them in his trailer to talk, the odds of him agreeing to get involved were zero to none. “Help us figure out who’s behind this.”

“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me,” Dewey sighed, sounding more exhausted than he had since opening the door. “I’ve been stabbed nine times, I’ve got permanent nerve damage, and a fun little limp. You think I want to do that again?” he let out a humorless chuckle.

“You just said it always goes back to the past.” Sam still intended to try her hardest to convince Dewey to help, she didn’t think she could figure this out on her own, she needed help. “Right?” Dewey reluctantly nodded, seeming to know where she was about to go with this. “So, if I’m in danger, that means you’re in danger.” Dewey seemed to take in her words as he was suddenly unable to meet her gaze. “Come on, let’s do this, together.”

There was a split second that it almost seemed like Dewey was going to agree to help them. “Your time’s up,” he said instead. He quickly stood up, walking to his door and holding it open for them.

Sam rolled her eyes as she pushed herself off the couch and stomped out of the trailer, Richie following close behind her. As soon as they were out the door Dewey slammed the door closed. Sam couldn’t blame him for not wanting to get involved, it was insane for someone to willingly get involved in this mess, she had just told Richie that before coming to see Dewey. That didn’t mean she wasn’t still annoyed that Dewey wouldn’t help them. She figured out of everyone else in the world the person most likely to help would be someone who had survived what they’re going through now, Dewey knew quite literally what they were going through, and he still refused to help.

“Okay, what’s next?” Richie asked as they made their way back to the car.

“The friends,” Sam said, easily catching the keys as Richie tossed them to her. She didn’t want to suspect Tara’s friends, but they were the only ones that made sense.

Before starting the car, she shot a quick text to Wes, asking him to gather the others. Wes quickly texted back saying he’d do it. Sam sat there for a few minutes when another text from Wes came through. Wes had said the others all agreed to meet at Mindy and Chad’s, since they were the niece and nephew of one of the victims of the second killings it made sense to meet at their house. Sam started the car and quickly pulled out of the trailer park, not carrying if she was speeding on her way to Mindy and Chad’s.

Sam pulled into Mindy and Chad’s driveway, seeing a few more cars there as well. As they were walking up to the door Sam heard another car door closing. She turned around and couldn’t help but smile when she saw Dewey walking up to them.

“You came,” she said when he was close enough. She truly thought he wasn’t going to help them, that she was completely on her own in trying to figure this out.

“Let’s get this over with,” Dewey sighed, leading the way to the door.

Mindy opened the door, leading them to the family room and telling them the others were already there. Sam had only been in the Meeks-Martin household a handful of times when babysitting the twins, but it hadn’t seemed to change much over the years.

Sam stood in front of the others, she had just opened her mouth, ready to tell them that she was the daughter of Billy Loomis, when there was a knock at the door. Martha Meeks quickly ran to the door, happily greeting whoever it was. Sam glanced back and had to do a double take when she saw you walking into the room.

“What are you doing here?” she asked. She asked them to gather everyone, she didn’t realize that meant you as well. She was honestly surprised you left Tara’s side for something like this, considering you refused to go to work until Tara basically ordered you to.

“Tara asked me to come,” you said. Sam let out a hum, now that made sense. She wondered how much convincing it took to get you to leave Tara’s side. “You all have exactly one hour,” you pulled out your phone, quickly typing off a text to someone. “So, let’s get this over with.” You pushed past Sam and took a seat on the far end of the couch, putting yourself as far away from everyone else as you could get.

“Why are you here?” Dewey asked. He squinted his eyes, watching you carefully even though you hadn’t so much as glanced at him.

“Tara’s my girlfriend,” you said. “Going to arrest me for that? Sheriff,” you made sure to say that last part with all the sarcasm.

Dewey narrowed his eyes at you. “How long have you been together?”

You rolled your eyes, clearly not enjoying yet another person questioning your relationship. Sam would bet money that it also didn’t help that the one questioning your relationship is the cop who used to always deal with you.

“It will be two years in December,” you sighed, obviously getting more irritated. “Can we move this along, please,” you looked up, meeting Sam’s eyes. “I would like to get back to Tara.”

Sam nodded, she didn’t want to shift the attention back to herself but you and Dewey arguing wouldn’t get them anywhere, especially if you ended up storming out before they even got started. “Alright,” Sam said nervously. She glanced back to see Richie giving her an encouraging smile. “I’m the daughter of Billy Loomis.”

Everyone’s mouths fell open. Sam could practically see their brains trying to process the information. Sam quickly ran to take her seat on the couch, not wanting to be the center of attention anymore. She spared a glance at you, seeing you weren’t shocked, she figured you overheard her conversation with Tara or Tara told you herself. Your jaw was clenched as you stared off across the room, your hands balled into fists, and you refused to look at Sam.

Mindy was the first to break out of her shock by instantly jumping to her feet and running to the closet they had filled with movies. Sam furrowed her brow as she watched Mindy shuffle around the movies, until finally finding what she was looking for and popping it into the DVD player. Sam suppressed a sigh when she saw it wasn’t Stab Mindy had put on but Stab: The True Story. It was basically a documentary of the true story, though no one who actually survived what happened was involved in the making of it or was interviewed. Sam was pretty sure Gale Weathers was involved in some way, but the documentary was mostly made up of pictures and found footage, with a ‘expert’ who had done their research and talked about what happened.

“So, you’re saying that you’re the daughter of Billy Loomis,” Chad said, being the first to break the silence. “And that, what, one of us is the killer?” he gestured at himself and his friends.

“The killer told me he knew my secret,” Sam said. It was clear Chad didn’t appreciate him and his friends being accused of being a killer but based on the history, it was always someone in the friend group. “He attacked Tara to lure me back here.” Sam caught you clenching your fists tighter as her words, she assumed you had already figured that part out as well.

“But then why immediately go and murder some douche-nozzle that was stalking Liv?”

“And why does it have to be one of us?” Wes asked. “What about deputy Dewey here? Maybe he’s the killer.” Wes shrugged. “No offense.”

“None taken,” Dewey said. “But what’s my motive?”

“You got stabbed a billion times, got dumped by your famous wife, and crawled into a bottle,” Wes listed off. “I think it’s safe to say you’re on the suspect list.”

Sam let out a small sigh, she had gone to Dewey for help but what Wes said made sense. As hard for her as it was to admit it still seemed one of the friends was more likely involved than Dewey. Wes’s argument was good but Dewey suddenly snapping after all these years and going after some random kids didn’t make much sense.

“Well, maybe you’re the killer,” Dewey said. “Cause that cut deep.”

“That douche-nozzle is connected,” Amber said. “I googled him. His mom is Leslie Macher. Stu Macher’s sister.”

“Who’s Stu Macher?” Liv asked.

“He’s Billy Loomis’s accomplice,” Dewey answered, leaning forward in his seat again.

“Okay, okay,” Sam said, nodding along, everything was finally starting to make sense. “So, the first three attacks are all on people related to the original killers.”

“Oh my god,” Mindy said, shooting up from her seat. “He’s making a requel.”

Everyone looked at Mindy like she had grown two head. “A what?” Sam decided to be the one to ask.

“Like a sequel, fans are confused or torn on the terminology.”

“God,” Chad sighed. “Please speak English.” Sam couldn’t help but agree, she understood what a sequel was, but she had no idea what the hell a requel was or what the hell Mindy was talking about.

“Okay,” Mindy sighed, sitting up straight as she got serious about this topic. “Do you remember the Stab movie that came out last year?”

“Oh, yeah, the one the Knives Out guy directed,” Liv said, seeming to know exactly what Mindy was talking about. Sam was still lost but decided to just wait and see where they were going with this. “You know, I actually really liked that one.”

“Of course you did, you have terrible taste.” Sam rolled her eyes as Liv and Mindy had their little argument, even when she was a kid Mindy the habit of being a bit of a movie snob. “The point is the hardcore Stab fans hated it.”

Sam sighed, beginning to tune Mindy out as she rambled on and on about why the fans hated the movie. She didn’t really care about a shitty sequel to a relatively basic franchise. She was hoping Mindy actually had a point to all this and her random movie knowledge about Stab would actually be useful.

“What’s wrong with elevated horror?” Amber asked, joining in on the conversation.

Mindy then went on to rant about how elevated horror was great, but it wasn’t Stab. The only reason Sam had some semblance of an idea as to what elevated horror was because even as a kid Tara loved that stuff. As Mindy said, Stab was a typical slasher whodunit type of movie, Stab wasn’t elevated horror.

“Come on, it’s just a movie,” Sam sighed, rolling her eyes. She had to speak up, she couldn’t stand listening to them argue about movies and their deeper meaning, they were just movies, they were in the real world where her sister was really attacked.

“No, it’s not,” Mindy said instantly. “To some people the original is their favorite thing in the world.” Sam couldn’t wrap her head around that, she got liking movies, but not loving one so much someone would begin to blur a movie with real life. “The movie that made them love horror. The movie that mom or dad showed them when they were ten and bonded them together.” Once again, Sam got that, she understood bonding with someone over a movie and both enjoying that. “And god help anyone who fucks with that special memory, who makes a movie that disrespects it.”

Sam could sort of understand that as well. She truly understood loving a movie growing up and then a few years later someone deciding to cash in on that love by making a sequel or spin-off or something involving those characters and that world. It rarely worked out, it was usually made as a cash grab and not for the fans, then the new fans had a habit of hating it. Being pissed about a bunch of shitty sequel movies to your childhood favorite didn’t give someone the right to go around dressed up like the killer from the movies. That’s where Mindy was losing Sam. Sam didn’t get how someone could take a simple movie so far.

“It sounds like,” Mindy continued, getting up from her seat before Sam could even think about interrupting her again. “Our killer is writing his own version of Stab Eight but doing it as a requel.” Mindy raised her hands, nodding to herself, clearly proud of her theory.

Sam would admit, it was a good theory, that didn’t answer her original question though. “Which is?” Dewey asked. Sam was glad he still didn’t get it; she didn’t want to ask Mindy again.

Mindy sighed, clapping her hands together as she tried to contain her clear irritation at them not getting it. “See, you can’t just reboot a franchise from scratch anymore, the fans won’t stand for it. Black Christmas, Childs Play, Flatliners,” she began gesturing around the room at her friends. “That shit doesn’t work! But you can’t just do a straight sequel either. You got to build something new but not too new or the internet goes bug fucking nuts,” she rolled her eyes.

“It’s got to be a part of an ongoing storyline, even if the storyline shouldn’t have been ongoing in the first place. New main characters, yes,” she gestured around the room as if all of them were the new main characters. “But supported by and related to legacy characters,” she pointed at Dewey. “Not quite a reboot, not quite a sequel. Like, the new Halloween, Saw, Terminator, Jurassic Park, Ghostbusters, fuck, even Star Wars! It always, always, goes back to the original,” she picked up the first Stab movie to help emphasize what she meant.

Sam was beginning to fully understand what Mindy was trying to say. “Are you telling me,” Sam started. “That I’m caught in the middle of fan fucking fiction?” she couldn’t believe this, it was even more insane than she ever imagined. She figured someone was pissed because she was Billy’s daughter not because they were hurt that the sequel to their favorite movie was total garbage.

“Not just in the middle Sam,” Mindy said, a lot calmer than she had been than when she was rambling about the movies. “You’re the star.” Sam could only stare at Mindy, her mouth slightly agape. She knew she was the reason Tara was attacked but she didn’t think she was the reason all this was happening.

“So, not to put like to fine a point on it,” Liv said. “But according to requel rules, who’s next?” Sam looked at Liv, her eyes coasting across everyone else. She wanted to figure out who the killer was but knowing who the next victim might be was just as important.

“Going by the pattern,” Mindy said slowly. “Whoever it is has to be connected to someone that came before.”

They all slowly turned to look at Dewey, he was the only one connected to the original killings. “I’m starting to regret coming,” Dewey said. Sam knew she told Dewey he was probably a target as well, but she didn’t realize how true her words might have been.

“Jesus, my mom is a character in one of them,” Wes said, sitting up a little straighter.

“No one cares about the shitty inferior sequels Wes,” Minday said with an eyeroll. “You’re safe.” She turned her attention to her brother. “With Randy as our uncle though, you and I are probably screwed.

“Wait, what?” Chad asked. Despite literally being Mindy’s twin, he didn’t share the same passion for horror and movies that she did. It seemed as though he didn’t realize that being the nephew of one of the only survivors of the original attacks put a target on his back.

“Or you’re the killer,” Richie began, laughing Mindy’s theories off. “And this whole elaborate monologue is just to cover your tracks.

“I think it’s pretty clear who the killer is at this point,” Mindy said, laughing off Richie’s accusation.

“Who?” Sam asked. She was staring at Mindy, she had no idea who the killer could be, she didn’t know how Mindy could figure it out so quickly.

“Isn’t it obvious?” Amber said, interrupting whatever Mindy was about to say. Everyone looked at Amber, but her glare was solely focused on you.

You let out a humorless chuckle, shaking your head. You didn’t seem happy that you were being accused but you certainly didn’t seem surprised. “Are you serious? What’s my motive?” you shrugged.

Amber shrugged nonchalantly. “You’re dating Tara.”

“Never trust the love interest,” Mindy mumbled.

You snapped your gaze from Amber to Mindy, you actually seemed hurt that she was agreeing with Amber. “You’ve got to be kidding me!” you gestured, looking around the room. Sam did the same, seeing everyone staying silent, all of them either looking at the floor or at you like you were the prime suspect, the only one who looked the slightest bit guilty was Liv, she refused to look at you, opting to keep her eyes on the floor.

“If I can’t have her, no one will,” Amber said. “Classic motive.”

“The thing is,” you leaned forward, glaring back at Amber just as intently. “I already have her.” Despite Sam’s feelings on you she had to side with you there, you were already dating Tara, had been for a while now. There was no reason for you to attack Tara, there was no one for you to be jealous of and this wasn’t some twisted version of unrequited love.

“Maybe you’re threatened.”

“By who? You?” you scoffed, literally laughing at the idea of being threatened by Amber “Please! As if.”

“Tara knows you’re not good enough.” Amber smirked, her eyes taking on a dangerous look. Sam had no idea what happened to warrant the animosity between you and Amber, but it was very clear where Amber stood regarding you.

“That’s not true.” You shook your head, but Sam could swear she caught a glimmer of doubt in your eye. She didn’t think you necessarily believe Amber’s words but there was probably a part of you that truly didn’t think you were good enough for Tara, that she deserved better than anything you could offer her.

“What could you possibly offer her?”

“You’re trying to get me to doubt my relationship,” you kept your voice low as you pointed at Amber. “I don’t know why,” you shook your head. “It won’t work though. Tara’s love is the one thing I have never doubted.” Sam hated to admit it, but she admired your devotion to Tara and your commitment to each other.

“Why are you still here?” Amber continued to poke. “You always talk about how much you hate this place, you literally despise this town.” Amber leaned forward, staring right into your eyes. So why are you still here?”

“For Tara!” you shot to your feet. “I stayed for her,” your voice cracked. Everyone got silent, all of them dropping their eyes to the floor, except for Amber; Sam seemed to be the only other one willing to still look at you.

“I was actually going to say Sam was the prime suspect,” Mindy was the first to speak up. Sam’s eyes widened; her mouth dropped open as she stared at Mindy. “Daughter of the original mastermind,” Mindy looked up, meeting Sam’s eyes. “It makes sense,” she shrugged.

“But you,” she shifted her gaze to you. “You have nothing and no one, your parents abandoned you, you were a troubled teen, hated this small town, until magically you got your shit together, turning your life around, then began dating Tara, who just happens to be Sam’s sister. You knew Sam before, no?” you only acknowledged her with a glare. “The perfect suspect, one that’s seemingly unsuspecting.”

You let out a humorless chuckle. Sam watched as you looked around the room, seeing how no one argued with Amber’s accusation or Mindy’s logic. “Fuck you,” you spit out before storming out of the house, making sure to slam the door behind you.

“Yeah, because that doesn’t scream guilty,” Amber mumbled under her breath. “Well, this has been fun.” Amber stood up from her seat.

“Where are you going?” Sam asked.

Amber rolled her eyes. “Home. Unless you want to accuse anymore of us?” Amber gestured around before making her way out of the house without a goodbye.

Wes was the next to go but unlike Amber he actually gave a short goodbye to everyone before quickly running out the door. Last was Liv, she gave Chas a quick kiss, saying something about having to go to work and then she left as well.

Sam sighed, figuring it was time they left as well, she didn’t want to overstay her welcome after basically accusing the entire friend group of murder and after sort of being accused by Mindy. “Well, that went well,” Sam said, as she, Richie, and Dewey stepped outside.

Dewey gave a small shrug. “Now, what’s your plan?” Dewey asked.

“Hopefully food,” Richie mumbled.

Sam ran a hand through her hair. Gathering everyone together had been simultaneously useful and not. They now had a theory on what the killer was doing, they knew his victims were those related to legacy characters, but they still weren’t any closer to knowing who the killer was.

“I need to get back to the hospital,” Sam sighed. Even if Tara didn’t want to talk to her, she needed to try. She didn’t like the idea of leaving Tara alone in the hospital too long, especially overnight, even if that meant sleeping in a chair outside her room or in the waiting room.

“I was hoping for something besides hospital food,” Richie groaned.

Sam sighed, she really didn’t want to waste time going to get food. “I can give you a ride to the hospital,” Dewey offered.

“Are you sure?” Sam asked.

Dewey nodded. “Yeah, it’ll give me the chance to ask some questions anyway.”

Sam tossed her keys to Richie. Richie didn’t waste time, giving Sam a quick kiss on the cheek before taking off towards the car. Richie had started and pulled away before Sam and Dewey had even started walking to Dewey’s truck.

“A text!” someone yelled, stopping Dewey in his tracks as he started to walk towards his truck. Dewey turned around and Sam peered over his shoulder seeing a woman in a colorful business suit approaching him. “You let me know in a text!” she continued, walking right up to Dewey and slapping him.

“You were on air,” Dewey weakly defended. That’s when Sam realized who this was, Gale Weathers.

“How do you know that?”

Dewey opened his mouth, then suddenly paused. It seemed like he wasn’t sure if he wanted to admit he still watched his ex-wife’s morning show. Sam couldn’t fault him for that it was either really sweet or really depressing, she was starting to think maybe a bit of both.

“How did you find me?” Dewey settled on, crossing his arms.

“I tracked your phone,” Gale said without shame.

“You tracked my-are you insane?”

Gale rolled her eyes. “I needed to find you and it was the quickest way,” she shrugged. “Who’s this?” Gale turned to Sam, seeming to finally notice her for the first time.

“Sam Carpenter,” Sam introduced herself. “My sister was attacked.

Gale tilted her head, her eyes instantly softening with sympathy. “I’m sorry. Do we know anything yet? What about the second victim?”

“Vince Schnieder,” Dewey said. “He’s Stu Macher’s nephew.”

“He attacked my sister because I’m Billy Loomis’s daughter,” Sam added. Gale’s eyes looked like they were about to pop out of her head at hearing this information. Sam hated the fact that she was getting used to revealing that information. “Somehow the killer knows and now he’s going after those related to the original killings.”

“What did you just say?” Gale whispered, her eyes taking on what Sam could only describe as a look of fear.

Sam couldn’t blame her for being scared, Gale probably didn’t come back to town and expect to be even more in danger. “This psycho seems to be obsessed with the original movie and so disappointed in the ones that have followed, he’s decided to make his own,” Sam rolled her eyes. She still thought it was ridiculous someone was doing all this because of a movie.

“She’s related to Billy,” Dewey said, pointing at Sam. “So, he went after her sister. Then Stu’s nephew,” he shook his head. “He’s going after anyone related to the legacy characters, anyone related to us.”

Sam watched curiously as Gale pulled out her phone, furrowing her brow at whoever was calling her. Sam couldn’t make out who it was before Gale declined the call. Not a second later her phone buzzing again. Gale once again declined the call, rolling her eyes.

Gale let out a frustrated sigh when her phone vibrated again, but this time it didn’t seem to be a phone call. Gale furrowed her brow as she tapped her phone. She furrowed her brow as she stared down at the screen, then her eyes quickly widened as if she realized something. “Oh, god,” Gale whispered.

“What is it?” Dewey asked.

“Oh god, oh god,” Gale continued to whisper under her breath. She quickly typed on her phone, dialing a number. Sam furrowed her brow; she had a feeling she didn’t want to know who had been trying to call Gale and what they sent her. “Dammit!” Gale screamed at her phone when whoever she was calling didn’t answer.

“What? What’s going on?”

“We need to go.”

“What? Where?”

Gale ignored Dewey’s questions as she dialed 911. Sam’s eyes widened; she didn’t know what was happening but clearly it wasn’t good. Gale began speaking quickly, rattling off an address Sam didn’t recognize it seemed as soon as someone answered. “Yes, it’s an emergency!” Gale yelled into the phone. “Tell the sheriff it’s about Ghostface! The next victim is Y/N Y/L/N.”

Sam’s eyes widened at hearing your name. “We need to go,” Gale said. “Now!” Dewey seemed just as confused as Sam felt but he didn’t question it as he took off towards his truck, Gale right behind him. Sam followed their lead, running off after them. She jumped in the backseat, just barely getting the door closed before Dewey took off, his wheels squealing against the pavement. Sam gripped the sides of the front seat, staring out the windshield, silently hoping they’d get to you in time.

#tara carpenter #tara carpenter x reader #tara carpenter x you #tara carpenter x fem!reader #tara carpenter imagine #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega #scream #scream v #scream 5 #a legacies secret #sam carpenter

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notherpuppet · 12 days

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Are there any ships you would like to end up canon in the show at all?

At the least, would you want Alastor and Lucifer to get along as you depict them in canon or would you rather them stay as petty rivals sort of thing?

Totally get the aspect of enjoying stuff but not wanting them to necessarily be official, I have some things like that myself too. It's just silly fun stuff :3

Given the amount of screen time they are allotted to tell the story of hazbin hotel, it’s difficult for me to imagine that they would have time to cover so many intimate relationships? (Not that it’s impossible)

The relationships between characters is such an incredible and core element of the show which I adore (platonic/familial/enemies/toxic/romantic) but I’m really invested in;

-The story of redemption and Charlie’s role in hell

-The foundations of Heaven and Hell

-The complexities of deal making and soul-ownership

-And MORE SONGS.

And they have the task of balancing all of that information as they tell their story of Hazbin Hotel.

It’s a lot to do in an 8 episode season!! So I guess I just don’t have many expectations for seeing them depict an ace experience in a more intimate relationship—specifically because in Alastor’s case, it seems he doesn’t really even know how to have a real friendship yet? 😅 All his relationships are transactional or duplicitous at the moment (he’s so bad, I love him so dearly)

I want to see him be able to learn how to have a true friend though for sure.

Personally, I do think Lucifer is a great contender for a friend since Lulu doesn’t want anything from Alastor (other than for him to get out of his life lmfao), can’t really be overpowered or scared by Alastor, has so much in common with Alastor, and is forced to live on the same floor of the hotel with him for god knows how long 😂💀

AND THEYRE BOTH LONELY LOSERS HAHAHA

Again, it’s not like it’s impossible to pull off depicting a QPR tastefully! But my expectations pretty much extend to seeing Alastor learn how to make at least one real friend haha. (Hopefully more!! 🥹)

Also lowkey, it would be awesome to see Alastor go through the whole series without being in a relationship (because that’s a pretty bold move and my aro ass would love that)

But yknow, I’m open minded! I’m a good faith fan, I look forward to seeing what they do.

EDIT: OH! And luckily I have the fandom to show me pretty much whatever else I could possibly hope to see

#yes I know he’s canon ace #my hc is that he is aroace #and this is just my lil opinion #one fan in a sea of millions

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iminye · 12 days

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hot take but you're allowed to like both the noldor and the sindar, you're allowed to be a fan of fëanor and/or any of his sons and be sympathetic towards thingol, you're allowed to like both miriel and indis, you're allowed to like the kidnap fam and simultaneously be a massive stan of elwing and eärendil, you're allowed to like maeglin but also to like idril and acknowledge that the betrayal of gondolin and everything that came with it was terrible, you're allowed to be a celegorm fan but you can also absolutely call him out for the lúthien situation and make fun of his death at the hands of a 30-something year old half human twink (all the love to dior btw he's awesome), you're allowed to do that!

and you know what, none of these are mutually exclusive, you don't have to feel forced to choose one side or the other depending on who is morally right. like what you like!

and also before anyone comes at me, obviously you're also allowed to completely ignore this and stay rooted in your opinion but please don't antagonise people who do not share it.

thanks.

#rambling #tolkien #silm #saw some takes around and felt the need to rant #spread more positivity in fandom challenge #it's a safe space for so many people and feeling forced to explain why i like x and also y when y is 'the worst thing ever' is tiering #leave me be just like i leave you be

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dark-fics-4-you · 1 year

Note

step bro rafe who plays football or hockey. idk it just seems hot🙏

Number One Fan

I’m gonna combine this with this request: Something with step bro rafe where the reader calls him rafey and it turns him on but she doesn’t know…

(This can be read as a continuation of my previous step bro!Rafe fic, but i’m not sure if I want to make a bunch of drabbles or one connected narrative so we’ll see what happpens ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ )

Next chapter

Warnings: drinking, relationship between step siblings, rafe is having unpure thoughts👀

The stadium was packed with college students and fans, roaring as the whistle blew.

You were close to the field, eager to get a good view of Rafe. He was the star quarterback of East Carolina University, and for good reason.

He had led the team to victory in all 10 of their last games.

The score was evened out, with only a few seconds left on the clock, everyone was eager to see what would happen next.

When the whistle blew again and the ball was passed to Rafe, you cheered loudly.

He dodged two players, dancing around them before running all the way to the endzone.

Everyone on the crowded bleachers jumped to their feet, cheering and screaming at the touchdown, but no one was louder than you.

“Go Rafe! Go!! Woo!!!”

You beamed proudly as you watched him pump his fist in the air, fist bumping his teammates as they congratulated him.

You were one of the first people to rush to the field, running up to your older brother and practically jumping on him in your excitement to hug him.

“Oh my god, Rafey! That was such a good game!” You squealed. “You were awesome! That last touchdown was amazing!”

Rafe flashed you a grin, perfect teeth winking in under the bright lights of the stadium. “Thanks, Y/N/N. You know I win every game just for you,” he joked and you giggled along.

“Hey, some of my teammates and I are gonna go out for drinks after we get cleaned up, wanna tag along?”

“Sure!” You smiled up at him. You were always happy when he included you in things he was doing, which admittedly was a lot of the time.

“Perfect, sugar. Here are my keys,” he tossed you them. “Why don’t you bring the truck around to where the locker room exit is, you can wait in there till I’m done. Okay?”

“Yeah! Sounds good!” You parted ways, heading to the truck but you didn’t notice how his gaze stayed on your back as you walked away.

~~~~~~

“That’s a pretty hot piece of ass you had hanging around you, Cameron,” one of Rafe’s friends joked, suggestively nudging the blond with his elbow.

“Shut up, Wilson,” Rafe snapped. His stomach lurched at the comment. He didn’t like the idea of any of his friends trying to sleep with you.

In fact, he didn’t like the idea of anyone trying to sleep with you. The very thought made him sick.

“Hey, I’m just saying, I wouldn’t mind if she came around more, amiright?” Wilson asked the other guys around him that had seen you and they all laughed and nodded.

“Knock it off, seriously,” Rafe warned. “She’s not interested.” He could feel his irritation rising, his face heating up.

“Damn okay Cameron, chill. We were just joking,” someone else interjected.

“Well I’m not fucking laughing.” He pulled on his shirt before slamming the locker door. “I don’t think I’m gonna go out tonight anymore. See ya at practice.”

A few guys complained, “come on Rafe, we didn’t mean anything by it.”

But he was already halfway out the door.

~~~~~~

“Change of plans,” Rafe said as he climbed into the driver’s seat and you clicked your buckle.

You looked at him inquisitively. “Oh?”

“We’re gonna go out, just the two of us. None of the guys.” He started the truck, pulling out of the parking lot and towards the road.

“Oh, okay.” You said in a confused tone. “Why are they not coming?”

He was silent for a moment and you glanced at him again.

“Rafey?”

“I just decided that I’d rather go out with my favorite girl instead,” he said with a smile, ruffling your hair and you grinned.

“Oh, okay!” You said happily. “Ooh could we go to this bar that I know, it’s on Seventh street.” You babbled away about the bar you wanted to go to.

Rafe shifted in his seat, trying as hard as possible to hide his growing erection, nodding along but he was finding it hard to pay attention to anything you were saying, attention shifting between watching the road, and turning to examine your features.

He pulled up to the bar and you hopped out of the car. You both showed your ID’s at the door and found a booth to sit at, Rafe pulling you in to the same side he was on so you could be closer.

A waiter came to get your drink orders, you got a fruity cocktail and Rafe got a beer, and Rafe ordered a plate of loaded nachos for you to share.

Your drinks came quickly and you offered Rafe a sip of your cocktail, which he took before offering you a sip of his beer.

You took a quick swig, face scrunching up at the flavor. “Bleh, I still have no idea how you like beer so much, Rafey!” You giggled, leaning against him in the small booth, his arm wrapped around your waist.

“You get used to it if you drink enough, Y/N/N.” The blond laughed, grabbing a nacho off of the plate in between the two of you.

“I just think it’s so gross,” you shook your head, smiling.

“Please, you’re one to talk. I still remember that time you tried to make mixed drinks for us at that party and they sucked so bad I nearly threw up.” He chuckled.

“Shut up! I got better afterwards!” You laughed hard at the memory. “So mean, Rafey,” you said with a fake pout.

“Not true, I’m always nice to you, Y/N/N,” Rafe sounded surprisingly earnest. “You know I would do anything for you.”

“I know, I know,” you finished your cocktail, catching the waiter’s eye before ordering a second.

You leaned back, melting into your step brother’s arms.

“You’re my favorite person in the whole world,” Rafe whispered quietly. “You know that, right?”

There was a strange moment when you met his eyes, odd feelings washed over you. The intensity in his look stirred something in you that you couldn’t identify.

“Yeah I know, Rafey. You’re my favorite person too.”

He smiled at that, pulling you closer to his warm body. You cuddled against his chest, enjoying the circles he was tracing lazily into your back with his fingers.

Your second drink arrived and you downed it quickly, feeling a little beyond tipsy by the time the two of you stepped out of the bar.

He drove you home, comfortable silence most of the way. You felt warm and the alcohol in your system made you feel much more affectionate.

Rafe opened the front door of the house for you, allowing you to lean on him drunkenly as he guided you inside.

When you reached the top of the stairs, you paused, not wanting to go to bed alone.

“Would it be okay if I slept in your bed tonight, Rafey?” You asked, looking up at your step brother with hopeful eyes. “I just feel more comfortable when you’re by me.”

“Sure, Y/N/N.” Rafe smiled at you, leading you to his room.

You kicked off your shoes, taking your shorts off before dropping them on the floor. “Do you have a shirt I could wear, Rafey?”

His eyes fell on you, noting your bare legs and the pink panties you had under your shorts. His mouth felt dry, and it took him a second to remember you had just asked him a question.

“Um, yeah I should have one…” he searched in a drawer, before tossing you the oversized shirt.

You pulled it on, unclipping your bra underneath the shirt before putting it with your shorts and top.

Rafe kicked off his shorts, stripping to his boxers before pulling his shirt off over his head. He stepped towards his door, flicking the lights off.

You crawled into his bed, breathing in his smell in the sheets, scooting over when he followed.

Usually when you slept in Rafe’s bed, you were the one who pressed to him, hugging his back as he faced away from you, but this time, you were surprised when you felt the warmth of his chest press to your back, arms wrapping around your waist as he pulled you closer to him.

As you dozed off to sleep, you were none the wiser that your step brother was beside you, hard as a rock, and imagining things that were far from brotherly.

Chapter 2

#rafe cameron #outer banks #dark!rafe cameron #dark rafe cameron #obx #drew starkey #rafe cameron fanfic #stepbro!rafe #stepbro!rafe cameron #number one fan

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scottishaccentsareawesome · 1 month

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A couple months after Kate joins the Tornado Wranglers, Tyler uploads a video to their YouTube channel. But instead of it being him and Boone in the truck, it's just Tyler sitting in a motel room by himself, and addressing the camera full-on.

"Kate Carter is one of the smartest people I have ever met," he says. "She figured out a way to disintegrate tornadoes, do you guys know how huge that is? Do you know how important that is? It's amazing. She's amazing. And yes, you have the right to your own opinions, but a lot of those opinions that I see - that we all see - in the comments seem to be based on very face-value judgments. Because if you really knew her, if you took the time to learn how awesome she is and what she's done - and is continuing to do - for this world then you would not be making comments like that. You think we don't really know what being a "Kater" means? We know you're not fans, we know you're literally "Kate Haters" so let me just say this - it will not be tolerated. Myself and the Wranglers LOVE our fans, and we love that you help spread awareness for our causes and you share our videos to help teach people about tornadoes and tornado safety, and that's awesome. But Kate Carter is one of the Tornado Wranglers now, and that is not going to change any time soon...not unless she ever wants it to. And I hope she never does, because she is a great asset to our team. So if you care about the Wranglers, you will recognize that Kate is one of us, and if you don't like her, or don't like somebody else on our team, that's fine. You're entitled to your opinion, but don't go filling up our socials with hateful comments when all we are trying to do is make this country and the world a better and safer place to live in. Yes, Kate and I are dating, but that is nobody's business. She doesn't like her private life to be made public on social media and neither do I, which is why this YouTube page is about chasing tornadoes and not a video diary about what we do on the weekends when we're not driving in those trucks."

"...Growing up in Arkansas, my mama always raised me on the rule that if you can't say anything nice, don't say anything at all." he said. "Show us your support by showing respect, or just leave the comment box blank. If you feel it, you should chase it - but you don't always have to say it. Stay safe out there and we'll see you on the next ride."

This video became one of the Wranglers most shared videos and in the weeks that followed Kate got such a huge outpouring of love from the fans (including a few fan pages dedicated personally to her) that she was brought to tears (happy tears) more than once.

#twisters headcanon #twisters #twisters 2024 #twisters movie #kate x tyler #tw: cyber bullying #cyber bullying #Tyler will always stick up for his Sapulpa girl <3 #kate carter #tyler owens #tornado wranglers

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redheadwannabesblog · 1 month

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Hinny Headcannon: the most supportive couple

When Ginny is in the running to play for England in the World Cup she decides she is going to turn it down. The training schedule is too intense and she can’t be away from the boys that much. (Pre Lily being born) Harry tells her he is gonna take a 6 month sabbatical from the auror department so he can be a stay at home dad and she won’t feel so guilty when she plays. It’s the one time he uses his “chosen one” status for special treatment.

When Harry and Ginny drop Teddy off at 9 3/4 for the first time they get slightly mobbed by little fans of Ginny. They don’t even notice Harry. Harry is thrilled and jokes for ages that she is officially more famous than him. Teddy loves bragging about his awesome Aunt Ginny.

When Ginny retires from the Harpies, the Weasleys throw a huge party for her. Harry gives her an album. He’d kept every positive article on her career because he really is her biggest fan.

When Harry’s auror work takes him away for stretches of time Ginny struggles with her concern for him. She won’t tell him not to do the job he loves but when it gets particularly hard she stays with Luna. Luna is the only one who knows how tough it was for her to have him gone.

Harry hates the politics that come with being the head of the Auror department but Ginny is great at it. At every ministry event she does most of the talking and steers Harry away from fawning politicians. He refuses to go to any without her.

#harry potter fanfiction #harry x ginny #ginevra molly weasley #hinny fanfic #harry potter fandom #hinny #hinny fluff #hinny microfic #pro hinny #hinnymicrofic

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fanfic-writer-and-rambler · 1 month

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Art by @jjmk-jjmk

Happy Birthday Jason!

Jason Todd locks his apartment door, sits on his couch and reads from a novel.

Cass: Hi Jason.

Jason: Jesus!

Jason falls of the couch. He laughs when he sees it's Cass.

Jason: Hi Cass, I'm not going to yell at you, but how did you get in my apartment?

Cass: I broke a window and snuck in.

Jason spots his window smashed with glass on the ground.

Jason: That's normal, I'll fix it later. What do you want?

Cass: Happy birthday.

Cass pulls out a wrapped present from behind her back.

Cass: It's a book, as you can see, a special book. I got it from Barnes and Noble.

Jason: Thank you so much. I'll open it later.

Cass, squinting her eyes: Hm.

Jason, remembering the girl can read the body for emotions: No, I'm fine. Don't do that thing you do. I like the gift, I don't do anything for my birthday is all.

Cass: Wait, what? But why?

Jason: I never felt like doing anything and then being brought back from the dead... Definitely sours that more. I just hang out alone until midnight or go on a mission.

Cass: I can see that, but Jason you've got even more reason to celebrate your birthday. You were brought back to life and can celebrate your life returning. Why pass on that?

Jason: You're too young to get it.

Cass, not bringing up she's technically older than him: Hm, age or not, I do understand the feeling, I was raised by a bad man who wanted me to be nothing but a silent assassin. For years I battled with the thoughts of if I deserved any happiness or a birthday, but some really awesome people reminded me that I am worthy of happiness and enjoying a birthday party and some mediocre cake. You deserve the same thing, Jason. I mean that.

Jason: I- Dang it, I can't say no after you said all that sappy shit. I'll go, but I won't enjoy it!

Cass: Don't worry, Dick said he'd sneak you out if you didn't want to stay for long.

Jason: He would say that.

Jason stands up and grabs his coat.

Jason: Wait, let me open this gift of yours.

Jason tears the paper off seeing a journal and pen set.

Cass: Technically it wasn't me who picked it, Bruce wanted to get it for you, but... Well...

Jason: Yeah, he's Batman, has to maintain that. Thank you though, I really do love this.

Jason hugs Cass.

Jason: Let's go.

Cass: Hold on, we go through the window, cause it's secretive.

Jason: You just want to go through the window again, don't you?

Cass nods.

Jason: That's why I like you.

...

Jason and Cass arrive at the Wayne Manor.

Jason: How much you want to bet they're still setting up?

Cass: I think they're fully set up and everyone has arrived, but someone will fall off a ladder.

Jason: Let's see.

Jason opens the door and Bruce is on a ladder hanging a fallen streamer and falls accordingly.

Bruce: He showed up?!

Jason: Okay you were right.

Cass: Yeah, that's Bruce for ya.

Damian: Everything is set up, father just wanted to fix that one straight streamer for some reason.

Bruce: Nothing can be out of place. I'm fine by the way.

Bruce stands up.

Bruce: Um, welcome... This is a surprise to everyone.

Jason: I can see.

Dick Grayson: Happy Birthday! Holy crap you actually came.

Dick runs to hug his brother. Jason lets him do it, but quickly.

Cass: I told you I could do it.

Tim: Dang it!

Tim passes Stephanie 50 dollars.

Stephanie: And I have birthday money for the birthday boy.

Stephanie hands the money to Jason. Tim crosses his arms annoyed.

Jason shakes his head: Okay well, I'm here let's get this over with.

Bruce: That's the spirit. I'm glad you finally showed up to one of these.

Bruce takes Jason to the party room and everyone Jason knows and cares about is there.

Jason isn't a big birthday fan, but he couldn't hide that it was worth going to this one and feeling appreciated.

Happy birthday Jason Todd. 🎂

#batbros #batfamily #batman #happy birthday jason #team jason todd #jason todd #dick grayson #bruce wayne #tim drake #cassandra cain #cass and jason #jason todd deserves better #batfamily chronicles #batfamily shenanigans #damian wayne

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gyorouis · 2 months

Text

𐙚 EVER SEEN.

— "every piece of me, holds parts of you. it feels much better when i'm with you."

genre: fluff (tooth rotting per se), attempt on crack ( ˶ˆᗜˆ˵ ), just reader and soobin admiring e/o.

pairing: ldr bf!soobin x afab!reader

warning: none (except maybe some cringe stuff for fluff)

wordcount: 4.6k

now playing: beabadoobee — ever seen ୨ৎ

the glow of the computer screen was the only light in the room, casting a soft blue hue over the messy gaming desk, and half-empty snack bags. you had spent countless hours in this very spot, headphones on, mic ready, waiting for that familiar notification: “dia_soobie314 has joined the game.”

you and soobin had met a year ago in the most unexpected way. what started as a casual gaming session turned into nightly marathons, then into a friendship, and eventually, something much deeper. the two of you were a team, a dynamic duo in every game you played. but somewhere between the virtual battles and late-night strategy talks, started a deeper connection beyond the screen.

it all began in a game of league of legends. you were having a particularly rough match, teammates bickering, and everyone blaming each other for the impending loss. just as you were about to give up, one of your team mates joined the voice chat.

“hey, let’s turn this around. i’ve got a plan,” the voice of a man said, his voice calm and confident. he’s playing lee sin, you’ve been watching his moves earlier and you can’t deny that he’s got the moves, he’s good at doing combos. you read his gaming name: “dia_soobie314”.

skeptical but desperate, you decided to follow his lead. you were playing jinx, and your team had been struggling to keep up. as the match went on, the player using lee sin executed flawless ganks, setting up kills for you and turning the tide of the game. your jinx’s rockets and rapid-fire attacks synced perfectly with his aggressive plays, and together, you started to dominate the battlefield.

“keep pushing, i’ll cover you,” he directed, his voice steady even in the chaos of the game. to your surprise, the team rallied behind his leadership. turret after turret fell, and soon you found yourselves at the enemy’s nexus. in a stunning comeback, you secured victory.

after the game, “dia_soobie314” sent you a friend request.

“nice playing with you,” his message read. “wanna team up for another round?”

one game turned into two, then three, and soon, you found yourselves gaming together almost every night. your shared love for anime quickly became a staple of your time together. you'd often watch episodes on discord, discussing plot twists and debating the best characters. one of your favorite topics was jujutsu kaisen, and there was that one memorable argument about megumi. soobin had made a comment that you took as a negative remark to your beloved character.

“seriously, megumi isn’t that great,” soobin said, trying to sound casual. “are you kidding me? megumi is awesome!” you shot back, your voice rising in mock outrage.

“he’s too boring. give me yuuji any day.”

“that’s because you have no taste!”

the argument turned into a playful bicker, filled with laughter and exaggerations, and became a favorite story in your growing collection of shared moments.

when it came to gaming, you and soobin made an unbeatable team. you both complemented each other perfectly. you were the one who dived headfirst into the action, while soobin stayed calm and strategic, guiding you through the chaos.

then there were the horror games. you loved them, but soobin was not a fan. whenever a new horror game came up, you’d coax him into playing.

“you promised me we’d play this,” you’d remind him. “yeah, but i didn’t sign up for a heart attack,” soobin would groan. “come on, it’ll be fun,” you’d say with a grin. and it was fun—at least for you. soobin would try to act brave, but his fear was pretty obvious.

“why are all the lights flickering?” he’d ask, voice trembling slightly. “it’s part of the game,” you’d reply, barely containing your laughter. “this isn’t even scary,” he’d insist, though his hands would be visibly shaking on the keyboard.

despite his clear discomfort, soobin would push through, just to be with you. it was endearing and made those gaming nights even more special.

“you know, we make a pretty good team,” soobin remarked one night after a particularly intense match. “we do,” you agreed. “i’ve never had a duo partner like you before.”

outside of the games, your conversations grew more personal. you’d talk about your days, your dreams, and your fears. it was easy to confide in soobin; his voice was always comforting.

one evening, after a string of victories, you found yourselves in a quieter moment. “so, what’s your story?” soobin asked. “how’d you get into gaming?” you laughed, thinking back. “my brother got me into it. he needed a teammate, and i just stuck with it. what about you?”

“i started in high school,” soobin replied. “it was a way to relax after school. never thought i’d meet someone like you through it.” his words hung in the air, filled with meaning. your heart skipped a beat, unsure how to respond. “i feel the same way,” you said softly. “i never expected to find a friend like you here.”

“more than a friend,” soobin said gently. “at least, i hope so.”

those words marked the start of something new. your gaming sessions took on a new layer as your connection grew deeper. what used to be just about winning games became about sharing more personal moments. conversations that started with strategies shifted to late-night talks about your lives, your hopes, and your dreams.

one evening, as you both leaned back in your chairs after another victorious match, soobin’s voice took on a more playful yet earnest tone. “hey, can i ask you something?” he said, his eyes twinkling with a mix of mischief and seriousness.

“sure, what’s up?” you replied, feeling a warm, comforting sensation from the intimacy of your growing connection.

soobin took a deep breath, looking slightly nervous. “so… i was thinking,” he began, his voice wavering slightly. “we’ve been playing together for a while now, and i’ve really enjoyed every moment of it.”

you smiled, sensing where this might be headed but eager to hear more. “yeah, me too. it’s been a lot of fun.”

“well, uh,” soobin stumbled over his words, his usual confidence momentarily giving way. “i was wondering… if maybe… we could make it official?”

“official?” you echoed, your curiosity piqued. “like, adding me to your friends list with a special status?”

soobin chuckled, his cheeks turning a soft pink. “not exactly. i mean, i was thinking more like… asking you to you know.. be.. uh.. be my g..girlfriend.” he said, the last word almost inaudible.

the question hung in the air, and you felt your heart swell with emotion. “oh, so you’re saying you want to upgrade from gaming buddies to… couple status?”

“y-yeah, something like that,” soobin said, grinning widely. “i figured, if we’re going to keep winning games together, we might as well win at life too.”

you were touched by his heartfelt words, feeling a surge of happiness. “that’s cheesy, but i’d like that,” you said, your voice warm and sincere. “i’d love to be your girlfriend.” soobin’s face lit up with pure joy, his eyes sparkling. “really?!”

“yeah, really,” you replied. “but only if you promise to keep playing games with me and not let me win just to make me feel good.”

“deal,” soobin said with a laugh, his eyes full of affection. “but only if you promise to keep being as amazing as you are now.”

“i’ll do my best,” you replied, your heart racing with excitement. “and don’t worry, i’ll make sure to keep you on your toes.”

then the time came when you both, you both decided it was time to meet in person. you picked a date and a place, both eager to see each other. the excitement was intense, you imagined the day vividly: finally meeting soobin, feeling his presence in real life.

but plans didn’t go quite as expected. there was a funny mix-up. you had both picked different locations to meet, each of you certain you had the right spot. you ended up at a busy train station, scanning the crowd with anticipation. soobin was at a cozy café on the other side of town, sipping coffee and checking his watch.

hours passed, and the realization set in that neither of you would reach the other’s spot. your messages were filled with confusion and humor.

“are you sure you’re at the right place?” you texted, trying to stay light-hearted.

“yeah, unless this coffee shop moved,” soobin replied with a hint of laughter.

the mix-up became a funny story you both laughed about. it was a reminder of how things don’t always go as planned. after that, you both decided to keep the meeting plans on hold, sticking to being in a long-distance relationship.

as time went on, the idea of meeting in person came up again. this time, you both decided on a trip to japan, a place you had both dreamed of visiting for years. the excitement of finally meeting soobin face-to-face was intense. you poured over every detail, planning each day carefully to make sure your time together would be unforgettable.

“can you believe it’s almost been a year?” you asked one night while on a call with soobin on discord, fingers moving over the keyboard while playing a game before the trip. “it’s wild,” soobin replied. “i’ve been looking forward to this for so long.”

“yeah, i’m definitely not nervous at all,” you joked, though your excitement was hard to hide. “don’t worry, it’ll be great,” soobin said, his voice soothing even from a distance. “we’ve got this.”

the excitement of your upcoming trip to japan filled every conversation you and soobin had. you spent hours discussing and planning, each detail adding to the anticipation.

“okay, so we need to figure out our itinerary,” you said one evening, your screen filled with maps and travel guides. “what’s first on your list?”

“definitely tokyo,” soobin replied, leaning into his webcam. “i’ve always wanted to visit akihabara. i hear it’s like an anime paradise.”

“agreed! i’ve been dying to visit the ghibli museum. i’m bringing my camera for sure,” you said, your excitement clear in your voice. “oh, and don’t forget we have to try all the street food,” soobin added. “i’m counting on you to be my taste tester.”

“taste tester? is that code for ‘let’s see how much you can handle’?” you joked. “i hope you’re ready for some questionable delicacies.”

“bring it on,” he said with a grin. “i’ll just make sure to pack a lot of snacks for backup.”

you both laughed, imagining the endless food adventures ahead. the planning sessions often turned into playful banter.

“so, are we getting lost in tokyo on purpose or is that just a bonus?” soobin asked.

“getting lost is part of the fun!” you replied. “besides, think of all the new places we’ll discover.”

“right. like that time we were supposed to meet in person and ended up at different locations,” soobin teased. “i’m still not over that!”

“oh, don’t remind me,” you groaned, laughing at the memory. “i was at that busy train station, searching for you in a sea of people, and you were at that coffee shop across town.”

“sipping coffee and waiting like an idiot,” soobin said, shaking his head. “we didn’t even think to check our locations again.”

“i still can’t believe we didn’t think to call or text,” you said with a grin. “guilty as charged,” soobin admitted. “but this time, we’re meeting at airport. we’ll be fine.”

as you continued planning, you each picked your favorite spots. you both agreed on visiting kyoto for its beautiful temples and serene gardens. soobin was excited about exploring osaka’s vibrant nightlife and trying the local ramen.

“i’m so excited about visiting the shibuya crossing,” you said, eyes sparkling. “and i’m looking forward to eating my weight in takoyaki,” soobin replied. “just remember, no food fights.”

“no promises,” you joked. “but if we end up with takoyaki in our hair, it’ll be a story for the ages.”

the playful banter continued as you finalized your plans, each moment of preparation bringing you closer. the excitement of exploring japan together, mixed with the joy of simply spending time with soobin, made the trip feel even more special.

the days leading up to your trip were a blur of packing and final preparations. you double-checked everything, eager for the moment you’d finally see soobin in person. the thought of meeting him, sharing real-life laughs and moments, was both thrilling and nerve-wracking.

“are you ready for this?” you asked soobin during a call when the both of you are busy packing your things. “as ready as i’ll ever be,” he replied smiling, revealing his dimples.

the airport was bustling with activity, a sea of travelers moving in every direction. you and soobin had spent countless hours planning every detail of this moment, from the flights to the outfits you'd wear to ensure you wouldn’t lose each other in the crowd.

you spotted him first. soobin stood out with his black cap that read “bunny senpai <3,” a playful nod to his favorite anime character. you, on the other hand, wore a blue and white striped beanie that was a little too big but made you easy to spot.

the two of you locked eyes across the crowded terminal, and for a moment, everything seemed to pause. a mix of excitement and nervousness danced in the air as you approached each other.

“hey,” you said, trying to sound casual but failing as your voice wavered with excitement.

“hey,” soobin replied, his dimples appearing as he smiled wide. “we finally made it.”

you both laughed, a bit awkwardly at first, but it quickly melted into genuine joy. it was surreal to finally see each other in person after so many months of video calls and messages. “so, how do we do this?” you asked, glancing around. “do we hug, kiss or just wave?”

“let’s go for a hug,” soobin chuckles, stepping forward. the embrace was warm and comforting, filled with all the emotions you had both been holding in. as you stood close, the height difference between you became more apparent. you were smaller than soobin, making him look even taller and more imposing. you had to look up to meet his eyes, which made both of you laugh.

“wow, you’re tall,” you said, chuckling. “i feel like i’m looking up at a skyscraper.”

“and i feel like i’m towering over a very cute skyline,” soobin teased, his smile widening. “this is a new perspective for me.”

“well, at least i don’t need a ladder to hug you,” you joked, tightening your arms around him.

after getting through security and finding your gate, you shared a laugh about your first-time plane experience. “i still can’t believe you’ve never flown before,” soobin said, shaking his head in amusement. “you’re like a kid at a theme park.”

“hey, it’s my first time!” you protested. “i’m allowed to be excited.”

the boarding process was an adventure in itself. as you boarded, you struggled to figure out how to stow your carry-on in the overhead bin. soobin, trying to help, ended up knocking his bag into yours, causing a minor luggage avalanche.

“great start,” you said, laughing. “we’ll survive,” soobin said, grabbing your hand to steady the chaos. “just think of it as part of the adventure.”

once settled into your seats, the excitement of the trip began to settle in. the flight was filled with conversations about what you were looking forward to and how you were going to tackle the next few days. eventually, you both fell asleep, your arms tangled together. as if you will lose each other.

when you finally landed in japan, the rush of excitement was evident on both of you. the airport was another whirlwind of activity, but this time, everything felt thrilling rather than overwhelming.

the first day was spent exploring, starting with a visit to a charming local café. the aroma of fresh coffee and pastries filled the air, and you both enjoyed a leisurely breakfast while soaking in the new surroundings.

“this place is adorable,” you said, sipping on a cappuccino. “it feels so cozy.”

“and the food is amazing,” soobin agreed, taking a bite of a freshly baked pastry. “this is exactly how i imagined our trip would start.”

after breakfast, you headed to one of tokyo’s famous landmarks, the shibuya crossing. standing amidst the amount of people crossing the street in all direction. you both laughed and took pictures, capturing the vibrant energy of the city.

as the sun began to set, you both continued to explore, feeling like you were living in a dream. the excitement of finally being together, combined with the thrill of exploring a new place, made every moment special.

the morning air was crisp as you and soobin ventured into the bustling traditional market in tokyo. the market was a sensory overload of vibrant colors, enticing aromas, and the lively chatter of locals. you both eagerly darted from stall to stall, trying every sample offered.

“so, which street food should we try first?” soobin asked, eyes wide with excitement. “let’s start with takoyaki!” you suggested, pointing to a stall with a long line of eager customers. “and maybe some yakitori.”

you both ordered generously, balancing a tray of steaming takoyaki balls and skewers of grilled chicken. the takoyaki was a delightful mess, hot and gooey, with octopus bits hidden inside. you managed to get sauce all over your hands and face, making soobin laugh.

“you’ve got a little something right here,” soobin said, pointing to a smear of sauce on your cheek. “thanks,” you replied, wiping it away. “you’ve got some too.” you grinned, dabbing at his cheek with a napkin.

as you continued exploring, you ended up buying a small souvenir—a cute, hand-carved figurine from one of the stalls. but as you were admiring it, a gust of wind blew, and the little figurine went tumbling off the table.

“noooo!” you cried, watching helplessly as the figurine rolled away.

“well, that’s one way to give it a proper send-off,” soobin joked, helping you chase after it. eventually, you both found it, and the vendor even gave you a discount for your trouble.

the next morning, you took a train hand in hand to kyoto to visit the fushimi inari shrine. the famous red torii gates created a mesmerizing tunnel that seemed to go on forever. you and soobin wandered through the gates, taking in the serene atmosphere and snapping countless photos.

“this place is even more beautiful than i imagined,” you said, awed by the sight. “totally,” soobin agreed. “though, we’re probably going to get lost in here at some point.”

“i’m already lost in this view,” you replied, smiling. as you climbed higher up the mountain trail, you noticed a small food stall selling traditional sweets. you bought some mochi, but in the excitement of trying to get a perfect photo with the shrine in the background, you accidentally dropped the mochi. “and that’s why we can’t have nice things,” soobin teased, handing you a napkin. “next time, remind me not to be so ambitious with my selfies,” you said, laughing.

the next day was spent at universal studios japan. the park was a whirlwind of colors and excitement, with thrilling rides and themed areas. soobin was especially thrilled about the harry potter world, while you were excited to explore the minion park.

“let’s head to hogwarts first,” soobin suggested, peering at the park map. “sounds good!” you agreed. but somehow, in the maze of attractions, you both found yourselves wandering into the jurassic park area. “how did we end up here?” you asked, laughing as you saw the massive dinosaur sculptures. “i think we took a wrong turn,” soobin said, grinning. “but dinosaurs are pretty cool too.”

after finding your way to the harry potter section, you spent the rest of the day enjoying rides, sipping butterbeer, and taking silly photos with minion-themed props. the park was a blast, and you both relished every moment of it.

on the fifth day, you took a trip to the arashiyama bamboo forest. the towering bamboo stalks created a green, swaying canopy above you as you strolled through the serene path. the cool shade and the gentle rustling of the leaves made the hike incredibly peaceful.

“this place is like a dream,” soobin said, taking a deep breath of the fresh, green air. “definitely,” you agreed. “though, i’m glad we’re not lost this time.”

“not yet,” soobin teased. “let’s see if we can find the monkey park.”

as you wandered, you found yourselves at a nearby bench where you paused to rest. you shared a picnic lunch and laughed about the mix-up with the directions.

“if we get lost again, at least we’ll be lost together,” soobin said, holding your hand.

the last day in japan arrived with a gentle start. after a week packed with adventure, you and soobin decided to take it easy and savor a slower pace. you began with breakfast at a cozy café in harajuku. the place was a charming escape, decorated in soft pastels with a menu full of tempting pastries and aromatic coffee.

after a leisurely breakfast, you strolled through harajuku’s quirky streets. you found a vintage shop with an array of unique trinkets and charming finds. soobin picked out a cute, retro keychain for you.

“this will be a great keepsake,” he said, handing it to you with a smile. “something to remember this trip by.”

“thanks, ‘bin,” you said, holding the keychain up. “i’ll think of you every time i see it.”

your next stop was going back to shibuya. at the famous shibuya crossing, you both marveled at the sea of people moving in perfect chaos. you posed with the hachiko statue, laughing as you tried to capture the perfect shot. “this statue is as iconic as they say,” soobin remarked, adjusting his camera.

“we’ve got to get a picture,” you agreed. “it’s a must-do for sure.”

for lunch, you wandered into a small ramen shop. the rich aroma of broth and the sight of steaming bowls made your mouths water. You both slurped up your ramen with enthusiasm, savoring each bite.

“this ramen is incredible,” soobin said, grinning as he twirled his noodles. “i’m definitely going to miss this.”

“we might have to try making ramen at home,” you suggested. “though i doubt it’ll be as good.”

after lunch, you took a leisurely stroll to a nearby park with a stunning view of the tokyo skyline. you found a peaceful spot under a cherry blossom tree, and took a moment to relax and reflect on your trip.

“this view is amazing,” you said, leaning against soobin. “It’s the perfect end to our adventure.”

“it really is,” soobin agreed, resting his head against yours. “i’ve had the best time.”

as the sun began to set, you headed to a quaint restaurant for dinner. The intimate atmosphere was perfect for winding down, and you both enjoyed a delicious meal together.

“to an unforgettable trip,” soobin toasted with his glass of sake.

“to the best company,” you replied, clinking glasses and smiling.

after dinner, you took a final, leisurely walk through tokyo’s sparkling streets. the city was alive with lights and sounds, and you both soaked in the last moments of your adventure.

“i’m going to miss this,” you said softly, holding soobin’s hand. “me too,” he replied, giving your hand a reassuring squeeze. he looked around at the glowing city lights, a thoughtful expression on his face. “what if…” he started, hesitating as if searching for the right words.

“hmm?” you asked, pausing to look up at him. “what if we lived here instead?” he proposed, his voice full of a hopeful, playful tone. his eyes sparkled with the idea, and you couldn’t help but chuckle at his enthusiasm.

“‘bin, we’re still in college,” you reminded him with a teasing smile. “i know, i’m not saying we should do it now,” he clarified quickly. “i’m talking about… uhh, when we get married.”

his casual mention of marriage took you by surprise, and you felt your cheeks flush. “you’re thinking about marrying me?” you asked, trying to keep your voice steady but unable to hide the blush spreading across your face.

soobin’s expression shifted to one of mock disappointment, his eyes widening in feigned shock. “why? you don’t think about marrying me?” he asked, his tone playfully hurt. you laughed, shaking your head as you reached up to gently pinch his cheeks. “of course i do, dummy. who else would put up with your terrible puns?”

“i knew it!” soobin said, his face breaking into a wide, relieved grin. “i was starting to think maybe i was in this alone.”

you both laughed, the sound of your shared joy mingling with the city’s hum. soobin pulled you into a warm, tight hug, his chin resting on top of your head. the world seemed to pause for a moment, leaving just the two of you in your own little bubble.

as you stood there, holding each other and watching the lights of tokyo twinkle around you, the night felt full of possibilities. the city, the trip, and your shared dreams blended into a beautiful memory, one you knew you would cherish forever.

“let’s make a promise,” you said, lifting your head to look into soobin’s eyes. “no matter where we end up, we’ll always make time for adventures like this.”

“promise,” soobin agreed, his gaze steady and sincere. “and maybe next time, we’ll be exploring somewhere new… or maybe even this city, just as locals.”

soobin looked down at you, his eyes twinkling with a mischievous glint that made your heart flutter. the city lights reflected in his gaze, adding a touch of magic to the evening. with a playful grin, he leaned closer and said, “you know, i’m definitely marrying you tomorrow so we can be locals here.”

you raised an eyebrow, trying to hold back a laugh at his bold declaration. “oh really? admit it, you’ve been dreaming of living here because of your anime fantasies, haven’t you?”

“i mean, yes,” he admitted with a dramatic sigh, as if he were reluctantly revealing a long-held secret. his face softened, and he reached out to gently tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear. “but… but… it’s not just that. i really want to be with you.”

his words, so sincere and filled with affection, made your heart swell. the warmth of his hand brushing against your skin sent a shiver of happiness down your spine. you looked up at him, your cheeks flushed with a mixture of embarrassment and joy.

soobin’s gaze softened, and he placed a tender kiss on your forehead. his lips lingered for a moment, leaving a gentle, comforting warmth that seemed to melt away any remaining traces of the chilly evening air. it was a simple gesture, but it spoke volumes about the depth of his feelings.

“when we get back home,” he murmured, his voice low and earnest, “let’s still meet, okay? and let’s promise not to lose each other this time.”

you took his hand in yours, intertwining your fingers as you looked into his eyes. “i promise,” you said softly, your voice steady despite the emotions swirling inside you. “we’ll meet, and we’ll make sure not to lose each other. no matter where life takes us.”

the streetlights cast a soft glow around you, and the bustling city seemed to fade into the background as you both stood there, savoring the moment. soobin squeezed your hand gently, his smile widening as he looked at you with a mix of affection and anticipation.

“and who knows,” he added with a playful wink, “maybe we’ll find a way to live out our dreams together. after all, i have you by my side.”

gyo's note: i'm so inlove with loser bf core soobin i have to write something out of it, quite hard to write the japan trip because i've never been to japan so i just did some research but i hope you loved how i made the japan trip!. if you made it to here, thank you for reading! i hope you liked it and pls like and reblog, it helps my works :>> you will be loved, xoxo!

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