#Attempted to show the change from what we have at first | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lil-darhk · 2 days

Text

"Do You Want to Dance too?"

[Bucky Barnes x reader]

Summary: After a very rare date with your boyfriend, it starts to rain and you two find yourselves stuck in a cafe with no way to get home without being soaked wet.

Warnings: fluff

(A/n: First attempt at a fanfic. I thought about this when I was trying to sleep and I really wanted to write it down.)

I curse under my breath as James and I quickly run to the small cafe at the end of the empty street. The rain started just a few moments ago so it wasn't bad now but I had a feeling it was only going to get worse.

We finally making it through the door, only slightly wet.

" Nice end to the day," he mumbles, clearly not happy.

I sigh and take a seat at my usual table when Ella, a good friend of mine, pops up behind the counter.

"Well this is a surprise," the barista says, "Thought I was finally going to be able to go through the whole day without you showing up."

"Ha ha," I muse, "Get us some hot chocolate."

She rolls her eyes but goes to make the order nonetheless.

James takes a seat next to me, glaring out the window as if that would stop the rain. The rain didn't take kindly to that as it starts a downpour, confirming my earlier suspicion.

He grumbles and I take his hand in mine.

"Tonight was nice," I say gently.

"It could've been better."

I shake my head, " You can't control the weather, love."

But I could understand his frustration. We rarely got to spend much time together as it was.

We usually only see each other at night but by then are too exhausted to do anything other than eat and sleep.

James and I had started dating a few months but we had known each other for years before then. I used to be an Avenger but I quit after Steve left. First it had been out of grief from my best friends, then it changed to me not wanting that kind of life anymore.

James was still very much in it, he was a soldier first after all, and, as long as he didn't get himself killed, I was okay with that.

I unconsciously traced a small scar on his palm as Ella brings us the hot cocoas.

"Okay, here's the deal," she starts, "I have to close up in 45 minutes. You guys can stay to try to wait the rain out."

"Do you at least have an umbrella we can borrow?," I ask.

"Nope. I even gave mine to an old lady."

"And you can't let us stay?"

"Nada."

It was my turn to grumble, "Fine."

Ella shrugs, "I need to clean up," she says before making her leave.

James was still glaring out of the window when he suddenly turned his stare on me.

"This is why we should've taken the car," he concluded.

I was taken aback, "So it's my fault for suggesting that we walk for 20 minutes to the restaurant?"

"Guess so."

I scoff, "You are on very thin ice here, Barnes."

He raises an eyebrow, "Are you threatening me?"

"Guess so," I mimic.

"What are you going to do?" he asks, amused.

"Do you want to sleep on the couch?"

He scoffs at my threat but doesn't say anything else.

Smart man.

We sip our hot cocoas in silence.

Then, suddenly, I'm laughing. James looks at me with an amused grin.

"I can make you sleep on the couch," I say, still giggling.

I poke his chest and he starts laughing too.

"I know you can, dear. I know you can."

He grabbed my chin with his right hand, tilting my head so I looked him directly in the eye.

"What would I do without you?" He wonders out loud.

"It's too awful to think about," I joke.

He laughs again before pressing his lips against mine.

I sigh in the kiss. It's difficult to think I was once distrusting of the super soldier I had grown to love. Now I trusted him with everything I had and more.

It took a long time for me to see the ex-Winter Soldier's true nature. His gentle, shy yet annoyingly protective nature

Too long.

He broke off the kiss with a small smile.

"We should finish the hot cocoa before it gets cold," James suggests.

"Hot cocoa is more important than kissing your girlfriend?" I pout.

He shrugs, "It's good hot chocolate."

I don't deny his statement.

It's my turn to look out of the window. As rain banged on the roof and glass of the small cafe, it seems to play out a rather aggressive tune. I don't like when it rains. It brings back rather painful memories, but I've learned that countering the bad memories with good ones helps make peace with the pain caused in a moment.

That gives me an idea.

"Do you want to sprint for it now?" I ask randomly.

The super soldier nearly spits out his cocoa, "What?"

"It's probably only gonna get worst and we are going to have to eventually."

"Do you want to dance too?" he said sarcastically.

My eyes lit up at the idea, "Can we?"

James' eyes widened, "I meant it as a joke."

"But why not? It's as cliche as dancing in the apartment," I point out, "Besides it'll be fun."

He shook his head, "We are not dancing in the rain."

"But-"

"It's way too cold and the last time you got sick, you couldn't get out of bed for a week."

I try to hide my wince by pouting, "Fine. No dancing."

He sighs, "But maybe we should go soon, It does look like it's going to get worst."

"So let's go then."

"Wait up!"

James' voice was nearly lost in the rain. I kept running, knowing full well he could catch up with me within a minute.

Or maybe he couldn't. I was pretty fast.

I laughed into the wind, my mouth filling with water as the painfully large raindrops hit my face.

I sprint in the direction I think is my house and, try to calm the leather jacket that James gave me by wrapping it around my torso.

While doing so, I accidentally stumble on my feet and go flying forward.

Strong arms wrap around me within a moment, one made out of a now freezing metal.

"I got you," Bucky assures, "I got you."

I hear him loud and clear now despite his voice barely being above a whisper. The drumming of rain seemed like an irrelevant background noise.

I turn to him, grinning like an idiot. His hair was stuck to his face. He shakes his head at me but was unable to hide his own smile.

No words needed to be exchanged in the moment as his hands rested on my waist and my arms looped around his neck.

I look at James with possibly all the love I held and softly press my lips against his. It was easy to forget everything with him, even easier to forget the bad things.

He put his arm on my neck and pulls away. " You're going to get sick."

"I've accepted it," I confess quickly, chasing his lips.

He shakes his head again but lets me kiss him regardless.

~~~

I got sick for a week afterward but it was well worth it. Especially when I had James looking after me.

#bucky x female reader #bucky x y/n #james bucky buchanan barnes #winter soldier #bucky x you #bucky barnes #bucky #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader #first fanfic #Marvel #Marvel fanfic #mcu #marvel #marvel mcu #the avengers #<3

52 notes · View notes

playboysaleen · 2 days

Text

Metanoia (or not?...)

Metanoia:(n) meta·noia - a transformative change of heart...especially : a spiritual conversion

Part 1. - Part 2. - Part 3. - Part 4.

Parings: Wednesday x Dracula!Reader (GN)

Warnings: they are a little older(19, lets say nevermore is a college), Blood, swearing, fighting, death, and.. some other grimey stuff. (i'm not a big word person.)

WordCount: 5.1k

this is literally Soft Wednesday for sure

note: I am adding some extra characters to fit the story line for both this fic , show and storyline. Also, the reader is masc tbh

___________________________

"Get up."

A groan slipped your mouth as your body laid against the floor of your dorm. A shadow appeared in your vision when a pair of hands gripped the collar of your shirt flinging you into the wall knocking over the artwork that fell on top of your head.

"What are you going to do when the Council comes in at the middle of the night and you sound asleep. Do you have a death wish?" Reinfield scolded as his arm wrapped around your arm lifting you onto your feet. You sent daggers to the man who patted off the dust on your black shirt when the door opened revealing Principal Weems.

"Ah, I arrived on time. Come now, to the field we go." Weems spoke, holding the door open for you and the man. You waved your hands to the two showing that you are still in your sleepwear. Rein shrugged his shoulders glancing at the door behind you. Your eyes widen and the next thing you know your cheek is pressed against the wet grass.

"Get. Off. Me." You muffled, grunting against the man's hold he had on your head.

"What's the magic word?" The amusement was definitely one sided. Using your body, you rolled over grabbing the man's hand and tossing him across the field. A loud "OOUF" was heard from the impact which sent a proud smile onto your face.

The smell of vanilla invaded your nose when you turned to the entrance of the gate you saw Wednesday, Xavier and Weems watching. A small smile ghosted your face at the small woman who made your heart race but soon you felt a shift in her stance when a hand was wrapped around your throat.

"It will not be that easy Dracula-" Rein started as you struggled against his hold, a crack echoed through the field as his fingers dug deeper into your throat. "The Council will stop at nothing to kill you." Rein tossed you again but this time you landed at the feet of the girl.

"And she will be the first person they will come after to weaken you." He whispered when his fingers mazed through your hair, yanking your head back to get a full view of the three, but she was the only one that stood out in your vision.

"Tear her head from her neck-" he started, a horrid vision flashed in your head causing your fangs to flash the three in front of you. "They'll rip her limb from limb." a scream that was foreign but you knew who it was. A growl bubbled at your throat when the grip from Rein tightened. Wednesday kept her death stare on the man, X swallowed the uncomfortable ball in his throat and Weems watched the sight before her fear seeping from her skin.

Your eyes turned white when the visions flashed through your head, Rein turned back to the trees as a group of people walked towards you. Rein nodded at one of the women whose eyes were white as a ghost. She blinked as the white in your eyes disappeared, you locked eyes with Wednesday releasing a breath. Rein let go of your head letting you lay onto the grass.

"Now, let's get to work." Rein clapped his hands while you now laid on your back attempting to process what just happened. An object landed onto your stomach that sent a burning feeling into your abdomen. You yelped, hopping onto your feet letting the object fall onto the ground.

"What the hell is that?" You yelled lifting your shirt to see the wound closing at a very slow pace. Looking between Rein and the now scarring, you noticed a group of people standing behind him.

"Now that is hell." A girl around your age snorted out which the strangers chuckled. A woman removed her hood from behind Reinfield.

"Vervain. A herb that could kill off a vampire, but for ascendant's... it is a small pinch." She spoke, extending her hand out which you accepted, shaking. "Bora." You nodded, mumbling your name looking back at the group. It clicked,

"You are the Original Bloods." Rein nodded, taking a few steps to stand by your side.

"Yes, they are. We have Bora. Shapeshifter." the woman nodded her way, you sent a firm nod. "And the visions you were having were by D. Hallucinations." The woman nodded when you sent her one back.

"Alek, Prykonesis." The man in the corner locked eyes with his own, sending a smirk as he lifted his hand exposing the flame in his palm. You gasp letting out a small chuckle. "Now that is cool." Rein smiled softly pointing at the smaller figure in the back.

"That is Sofi, the youngest of the Original Blood. Necromancy." Your eyes widen at the gift the child was given. Controlling and summing the dead is a very hard power to have. Your family told stories about the death summoner. She gently waved as you sent a small smile.

"And that woman there is Marija. Atomkenisis." The woman removed the hood from her head which caused your breath to catch in your throat. You nodded her way as she sent you a small smile. Quickly averting your eyes you saw a shadow that appeared from the trees. Taking a few steps back, your fangs peeked through your gums awaiting for an attack.

"Don't worry, Raina loves to make an entrance." D spoke, smiling at the shadow making her way to the group. The voice in the back of your head did NOT like the energy of the woman who sent a fanged smile your way.

"Needs a haircut but they'll do." The woman joked that you did not find any humor in it at all. You huffed crossing your arms eyeing the women's movements as she made her way to the girl from earlier leaning into her side.

"Who leads you all? like the Alpha?" You asked, there has to be a leader for them. A snort slipped from Raina as she walked towards you.

"There is no leader. We are mindlinked as one." Sass definitely seeped in her words. You raised your eyebrow looking between the women a foot from you to the group. "So... like a pack?" Bora laughed lightly, patting Raina's shoulder , nodding your way.

"Yes, like a pack." You sent a smirk towards the girl behind Bora who scoffed walking back to their partner who held a grin.

"You all have... amazing gifts." You started placing your hands behind your back taking a few steps next to Rein. "I do not know how to control...or even work my own." whispering, your head hung low at the expectations that now weighed on your shoulders.

"But you do." A small voice was heard, you lifted your head to lock eyes with the woman from earlier who held a warm smile. "When each of us were introduced I felt the shift in your body. When I was introduced you received a partial amount of my Atmokinesis. The weather dropped about ten degrees and you didn't notice." Your gaze followed the woman as she stood next to Alek. He opened his hand signaling you to do the same.

"Alek here will ignite his power and-" her words were cut in half when you copied the man's actions and your palm held a ball of flame. Rein sent a nod to Alek when he chuckled, taking a few steps back. Everyone seemed to make their way away from the two of you as you were lost in the flame in your hand.

Alek shot the ball of flames your way which you dodged quickly. You yelped when heat coursed through your body. The both of you went toe-to-toe exchanging balls of fire towards one another when a hand was wrapped around your ankle sending you to the ground. Trying your best to escape, you glanced at the group focusing on D's eyes then glancing at Alek's form. Your eyes flashed white as the man grunted turning to the opening behind him throwing countless amounts of fire. Seeing an opening you ripped the hand from your ankle blurring to him tackling him on his back. Alek hissed your way baring his fangs when you did the same only difference is you let out a growl/roar sending his fangs back into hiding.

"ENOUGH."

Even the animal chatter in the woods went silent along with the people meters away. Alek turned his head to the side, tearing his eyes away from yours. "I don't want to hurt you." you whispered letting go of the man's collar.

A gust of wind blew you off of the boy as you rolled onto your feet, locking eyes with the woman from earlier as her eyes spark with electricity. Your ears rang when you saw a ginormous animal sprinting from the corner of your eye. Quickly dodging a loud bang rang through your ears as you laid against the grass. Groaning loudly you held your side at the pain that was now subsiding. The animal from seconds ago lunged at you while you placed your arm underneath its neck, preventing the animal from biting your face off. It was a bear. It was Bora. Struggling against her hold you yelled at the piercing of her claw in your shoulder.

"Argh...i..CAN'T!" You cried out, the noise of Bora's teeth snapping drummed into your ears. You turned your head to the side as her mouth inched closer and closer. You felt a rush of adrenaline course through your veins as your eyes flashed a yellow/gold color as a snout replaced your nose yet disappeared when the weight became light above you. The growling turned into heavy breaths, you turned your head as the face of your nightmares appeared in flesh. A horrid scream left your mouth as a flash of electricity coursed through your eyes flying the boy across the field. You hopped onto your feet blurring to the woman who is now in her true form with your hand around her throat.

"NO." You roared as tears brimmed your eyes- "Never, EVER in your life use my dead brother as leverage to win this 'spar' we are having-' ' you started sinking your fingers into her neck as her knees buckled beneath the tower you had over her. Rein sighed, nodding his way to Marija as she huffed jogging towards you. She lifted her hands causing the sky to darkened and a handful of lightning strikes rammed into you. Falling onto your back a sharp breath slipped from your lips as you laid staring at the dark skies.

"They're hurting them." X whispered, Wednesday kept her hard eyes on you awaiting you to move. Weems placed a hand on Reinfields shoulder, sending him a look- "This will be nothing compared to what the Council will do, we must have them prepared and more." Rein argued turning back to your body but deep down the man felt guilt. Guilt that ate him alive for centuries. Guilt that got the best of him.

"They have learned alot from this sparring you are throwing onto them. Let them rest, you may prepare them physically for this fight but what do you think is going through their head at this exact moment. Look at them." Weems spoke pointing at the field where you stood then crashed back to the ground. Wednesday took a step to make her way to you yet stopped when Marija made her way to your side lifting you onto your feet. Her heart boomed against her chest and she felt an acid bubble in her stomach. Looking away from the sight, Wednesday grabbed X and dragged him away from the field.

"Class starts in a few, we must go." She mumbled, X sighed following behind the girl heading back to the building.

"Principal Weems, after talking with the rest of the OB we have decided it is best to take Dracula under our wing for training. They will still attend class, but will need to understand more of themselves now that we are here." Bora spoke to Weems as she sighed. Nodding her head,

"We are across the field in the new house that was built, we have plenty of space and will use the field to practice. There is a room already being cleared for the Ascendant." Weems nodded her head, looking between you and Reinfield. Your head hung low at the news but you really needed to feed.

"I...I need to feed. I'm not feeling well." Marija caught you before you could hit the ground. Everyone snapped their heads to Rein as he held his hands up, "Hey, I did not know the ascendent needs a specific feeding schedule." Everyone rolled their eyes chattering amongst themselves.

"Fuck it, drink from me." Marija spoke, many 'No's were heard from the group which you shook your head leaning into her hold. "Have they drunk actual blood? Not animal, Not New Bloods, I mean actual human blood?" Marjia asked, throwing your arm over her shoulder for better support.

"They have not." Weems answered, Bora sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "They're going to need a lot more than what we have. Plus, a drink from one of us will be enough." the woman continued.

"Mari, you know what happens when Originals drink from each other." Bora mumbled out still figuring out what could be the best route.

"And they are an ascendent. We don't know what could happen. Besides, Their venom could kill you. They may be the F card." Raina spoke and with the last power you had you lifted your head locking eyes with the girl.

"Lets test my venom on you then huh," Raina rolled her eyes looking back at Bora. The woman turned to you then back to Marija.

"Okay, but after this is done we will head back and run some tests on them both. Raina will be on watch duty for the ascendent in case anything happens and I will supervise Marija." Marija nodded at the group letting Sofi pull her sleeve up. "Drink." You looked at Rein, which he nodded, taking a few steps back.

A shaky breath slipped from your lips when your hand wrapped around her wrist. a small vein pulsed against her skin that your fangs slashed out your gums and a wave of strength flowed through you. Following the vein up her wrist the pulsing became louder when you noticed the bright blue against her shoulder.

"No." Your arms wrapped around her shoulder as you blurred her onto the ground. Everyone began to panic when Marija lifted her hand to stop Sofi from moving closer.

"No one will save you." you whispered, locking eyes with the girl beneath you. Her eyes mirrored your own, "No one will need too." You flashed your fangs chuckling, "Good." You leaned down piercing your fangs into the girl's shoulder letting the blood pool your mouth. A moan slipped from the girl's mouth when your fangs sank deeper.

"Alright, that's enough." Raina spoke after a few seconds of you drinking what you could. A loud 'No' came from both of you. Bora nodded at Alek making their way to the two. Alek grabbed the back of your neck sending a small surge of fire to your nerves. You jumped away from Marija holding your head.

"Argh what the fuck." you grumbled hopping onto your feet. Looking at the woman who now was the one with her arm over Bora wobbling on her feet.

"We must go. We will see you in our home for dinner tonight. Grab what you need from your dorm." Bora ordered, you nodded, turning on your heels, blurring to your dorm. When you arrived the bell rang indicating that the first class was over. An uncomfortable feeling filled your body after you blurred your belongings in a duffle bag and box. Rein leaned against your balcony door watching your face fall.

"This is a lot to take in; I know, but this is for the best." Droplets fell against the roof as you grabbed your things glancing at the door.

"The fate of the world is in my hands and I still barely know how to whistle. What do you think someone my age should be doing? I didn't ask for this Reinfield. Now I have to kill the people who haunt my dreams at night." Venting to the man, you grabbed the phone that laid on your desk shooting a text to Xavier, updating him on what was happening.

"I know, kid. I know. Let's get you to the OB's so we can get you settled." You nodded following Rein out the balcony door blurring to the huge black mansion.

Knocking on the door, Aleks face popped from the crack smiling my way. "Finally. Come on, Bora has the chair ready for you." You nodded walking in and following the boy to a door that led to a nice comfy infirmary.

"Hey, have a seat, we will start here in a second." Bora's voice was soft when she sent you a smile as you handed your things to Alek and took a seat on the chair. You followed Bora's movement when she prepared an IV to place on you.

"Where is your Pure Vein?" Bora asked while preparing the IV kit. You hesitantly removed your shirt laying back on your back keeping your eyes towards the ceiling. Raina leaned against the door frame watching carefully as Bora struck the needle into your pure vein.

“Good place to hide, but make sure your chest is well protected when the time comes.” You sighed, blinking away the voice of your brother in your head.

“What will happen when the time comes?” Bora typed away on the computer answering-

“We will fight. I have Sophie and an old friend of mine contacting some people that could help us in this. After the death of the young ascendant that was killed by the Council three years ago, we have a lot of people like us who have a bone to pick with them.” Your head snapped to Bora as she was still mindlessly typing on the computer.

“Jaime?” Bora nodded, glancing at you. You gasped quietly, knuckles turning white from gripping the handles on the chair.

“Your readings are normal. Since you drank from an OB you actually don’t have to feed for the next 2 days. Amazing..” Bora started handing the printed readings to Raina to read over. “Marija is more than okay, she feels stronger.. funny how your venom is like an energizer for us.” Bora joked, removing the IV and placing a small cone onto your chest. You eyed the object and as curious as you are you poked at it,

"What is thi-" a yelp flew out your mouth when a shock was sent through your body. Raina howled with laughter as she lifted her hand guiding the cone across your chest. After a few minutes of discomfort the cone fell onto the floor.

"They're good to go, it's all gone." Raina spoke, grabbing the cone from the floor, tossing it into the trash. Confusion danced through you. What was her power?

"Thank you, can you please escort them to their room?" Bora asked, Raina could only nod, opening the door letting you pass her. Once she closed the door you let her make way in front of you.

"You're quiet. Normally you have something salty to say." She started as you both made our way up the stairs. "You never said what your gift was." Raina sighed, stopping at the last door down the hall. You opened the door to see the beautiful room. A window that took up the whole wall. About 3/4 of the room was the window and a huge California size bed against the only wall in the room, besides the wall the door was attached to. Forgetting the conversation you wanted to continue, you walked deeper into the room taking in the view in front of you. You could see the quad from your own room. Wednesday would love this view especially with the rain painting the window.

"Hemokinesis." Raina spoke after a few minutes of silence. You turned your gaze away from the window to her- "well your generation calls it Blood Bending." Your eyes widen at the information. "So you are the most powerful one here then?" She sent a nod taking a seat on the ledge by the window.

"I found out I was gifted when I was 19. I was married off to some man and when he found out he fed me to the wolves. My gift saved me but that was when Bora found me and I've been with them since then." You took a seat on your bed,

"Why do you hate me so much?" You asked shifting on your arm as you leaned into the bed. She sent you a small smile shaking her head.

"I don't hate you." She started, you leaned back up waiting for her excuse. "I'm scared for you."

"You are not the first to mate with someone who is nothing like us." Your eyes widen. "You were the one everyone spoke about a few years ago." It all made sense now. She nodded, clasping her hands together, sighing.

"What they left out is... I was not the one that killed her. The council did. Sad thing is that the council needed some kind of reminder to people like us of their power. My mate was murdered in 1843. " A small gasp flew out your mouth. She scoffed, shaking her head.

"The Council will play mind tricks on anyone to keep the power they have on everyone strong. I fear for you, for your mate. She has no idea where she stands now and not only in your life but with the most powerful people in the world." You shook your head standing from the bed walking to the window,

"No ones going to touch her. Over my dead cold body." You grit grabbing your coat storming to the door. Raina blurred your way grabbing your hand stopping you from the door.

"I said the same thing and she's gone. I stand with you so please know we all do." You eyed her features, feeling a small source of heat flowing through your chest. She was telling the truth. The blood that was stored in her body was warm. Still. Even without trying you were blood bending for the truth and you found it.

"Go. Be back in an hour." She whispered, letting go of your hand. You sent her one last look blurring to Nevermore. After a few minutes, Raina made her way into the living room to meet with the rest of the Originals.

"They left- didn't they?" Alek asked, walking in from the kitchen with a newspaper. Raina nodded, taking a seat next to D snuggling into the girl's embrace. Bora sighed leaning forward towards the coffee table moving a chess piece while Sofie eyed the board. Marija blurred from the other room grabbing her coat. Raina raised a hand to stop her.

"They went to see their mate. Leave them." The lights flickered throughout the house as Marija nodded walking upstairs into her room. Alek sighs loudly taking a seat next to Bora, sending her a goofy smile.

"So who is going to tell the newbie that they're Marija's dead mates doppelgänger?" Alek spoke for the room when Bora sent a hand into Aleks shoulder, dropping the paper from his hands. D chuckled, wrapping her arm around Raina bringing her as close as possible.

“I will talk to Marija and you four stick around for back-up” Raina huffed rolling her eyes, “She’s going to lose her shit huh?” Sofi giggled quietly moving her chess piece next to Bora's king as the young girl stood to her feet walking to the kitchen.

- -

You stood in front of the building, eyeing the balcony a few stories above you. Taking a step back, you leaped onto the tree hanging a few feet away from gripping onto the branch when you saw the silhouette of the girl sitting with a huge instrument in her hand. Thing held an umbrella over Wednesday as she started her piece. You sat on the branch letting the sound dance through you. Your eyes opened when her heartbeat boomed in your ears, leaning forward you noticed the crease in her brows. The vibrations from the music filled your bones, the aggressive playing sparked something you. You were scared something was wrong.

The music came to a halt when a tear slipped from her closed eyes. Thing dropped the umbrella as the rain seemed to stop too. A heavy sigh was heard from the girl when she looked down at the appendage.

“I do not understand why I feel like this. I feel fear but not the kind I love.” She spoke. Things signed and you guessed from the way the chair scraped back on the concrete triggered the girl. Wednesday walked to the ledge of the balcony placing her arms on top keeping her gaze on the house you were staying in.

“I do not know this being and for some reason everything my father has said was true.” You were confused on what she was talking about, Thing stood still then slowly signed.

“It feels like a hot iron in my throat but I believe him. I understand.”

Her heart raced, as if you could feel it as your own. You decided it was time to step in as you hopped off the branch onto the ledge. Her head snapped to you, sending her a small smile you moved from the ledge standing a few feet away from her.

“Hi.” was all you could muster up. Distracted by her heart beating in your ears, you missed the gasp that slipped her lips. She was the one to take the first step towards you. You studied her movements searching for any discomfort but your body played against you as your hand reached for hers.

“How…are you feeling?” It was a struggle for the girl to get those words out but the look on your face washed away the small tinch of disgust she felt. You sent her a small smile.

“Way better than what I felt a few hours ago. You okay?” You answered but as you spoke she took another step standing a few inches away. The height difference made Wednesday lookup as you looked down into her eyes. It was as if she could hear your dead heart beat with how nervous you felt. All she could do was nod.

“I have to stay at the OBs for a bit. Rein will take you someplace safe when the Council comes.” The rest of your explanation was shoved back down your throat when the look the girl in front of you had shot your way.

“No. I am going to stay with you no matter what happens.” She expressed taking a step back, shaking her head. Huffing, you looked at the sky. “It is for the best. I can't have you in any type of danger.” She scoffed, crossing her arms, “and what makes you think I couldn't handle myself.”

“Could you please just do one thing for me?” You pleaded, the screams from training echoed in your head as you leaned against the balcony. Wednesday shook her head sending Thing a look which he scurried away. “I am capable of taking care of myself.” She argued but was shoved right down her throat when you blurred infront of her backing her against the balcony window. The veins under your eyes were now dark and visible, while the fangs poked out your lips were twice the size.

“The Council will kill you Wednesday. Rip you- limb from limb. What are you not understanding?” You spat with your eyes staring deep into the girl's soul. She slightly leaned forward to meet you whispering.

“I will not run away when my heart for some reason needs to be as close to you as it can. I don’t know why I feel like this and I can't stand it. This magnetic pull I feel when you are not around, I can’t go a few hours without wanting to be next to you.” You took a step back at the girl's response. You would have never thought you would hear such words out her mouth.

“The Council is coming for me and will not stop till I am dead and burned.-” You licked your lips as you looked down at your feet, “and since you are my mate, they will come for you too.”

Wednesday shook her head at the way her hand acted on its own grabbing yours.

“If that is true, I’d…I’d want to die by your side.” Your eyes widen as the veins are now gone and your fangs hide inside your gums. You swore a day ago the girl in front of you was the most heartless human with you being the one with no heart at all. You felt heat engulf your body when she placed her head against your chest. Your arms wrapped around her as you both stood in silence while the sun was now visible and setting along the horizon. You held her in your arms for a moment thinking.

“I will have the OB talk to Weems tonight.” You whispered. She could only nod her head burying her face deeper into your chest.

“I do not like the way I feel around you, but the closer I am… I seem to tolerate it more by the minute.” She mumbled into your chest which you pulled back sending her a small smile. You moved back, sighing softly.

We need you back here…we got a bit of a problem

D’s voice was heard in your head when you snapped your head to the house.

“What is it?” Wednesday asked, following your gaze to the house. You looked back to the girl pulling her back into your embrace. Funny how after a hug the girl no longer freezes in your touch but rather yet sinks in.

“They need me. I will come get you after class tomorrow. I’ll be here waiting.” You pulled away speaking. She sent you a nod but the stare she had on you made you stand there waiting for her response. Warm lips were planted on your cheek when the world stopped.

“Go.”

she whispered inching away into the dorm. You nodded, sending her a fanged smile hopping onto the edge jumping off.

__________________________

Geez, its been a while lol.

I basically have the story done. like 70%. So enjoy.

#wlw #jenna ortega x reader #wednesday x reader #wednsday addams #fanfiction #nevermore #jenna ortega

30 notes · View notes

floriianthefool · 4 months

Text

on longing, romance, and every in-between.

References:

1: painting by Filippo Lippi

2: John Koenig 'The Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows'

3: painting by Anthony van Dyck, 'Portrait of Mary and William of Orange'

4: uncertain, will be added once found

5: painting by Luis Caballero

6: 'Elegy for My Sadness' by Chen Chen

7: a fragment of ourselves returning v, 2018 by Beatrice Wanjiku

8: Richard Siken

9: uncertain, will be added once found

10: Tumblr post by @mothicalspoken

11: uncertain, will be added once found

12: Joan Tierney

#Attempted another web weaving #web weaving #web weave #on love #on longing #on yearning #floriian: like the soft beating of a heart in a still chest (fit into me like a missing rib)#An attempt at exploring the dynamic between Bruce and the Reader-insert #Everything is interchangeable #The quotes are both of them towards the other #The art as well #Attempted to show the change from what we have at first #Shying away #Both Bruce and Reader from each other #And then slowly coming towards each other #Together #It's important that none of this is ever said aloud #They don't even consciously think this #It's all in the subconscious #What neither of them say but will feel #The refusal to voice it #To say it #To have it become real and give it a name and give it life #It's all about control over themselves and the world around them #Just perfect for eachother 🥰#Also important to note that to a certain extent they're both very much/somewhat aware of how the other feels but once again neither of them #Say anything despite slowly acting differently towards each other #Just a short web weave exploring their dynamic

737 notes · View notes

cookinguptales · 1 year

Text

So I’ve been enjoying the Disney vs. DeSantis memes as much as anyone, but like. I do feel like a lot of people who had normal childhoods are missing some context to all this.

I was raised in the Bible Belt in a fairly fundie environment. My parents were reasonably cool about some things, compared to the rest of my family, but they certainly had their issues. But they did let me watch Disney movies, which turned out to be a point of major contention between them and my other relatives.

See, I think some people think this weird fight between Disney and fundies is new. It is very not new. I know that Disney’s attempts at inclusion in their media have been the source of a lot of mockery, but what a lot of people don’t understand is that as far as actual company policy goes, Disney has actually been an industry leader for queer rights. They’ve had policies assuring equal healthcare and partner benefits for queer employees since the early 90s.

I’m not sure how many people reading this right now remember the early 90s, but that was very much not industry standard. It was a big deal when Disney announced that non-married queer partners would be getting the same benefits as the married heterosexual ones.

Like — it went further than just saying that any unmarried partners would be eligible for spousal benefits. It straight-up said that non-same-sex partners would still need to be married to receive spousal benefits, but because same-sex partners couldn’t do that, proof that they lived together as an established couple would be enough.

In other words, it put long-term same-sex partners on a higher level than opposite-sex partners who just weren’t married yet. It put them on the exact same level as heterosexual married partners.

They weren’t the first company ever to do this, but they were super early. And they were certainly the first mainstream “family-friendly” company to do it.

Conservatives lost their damn minds.

Protests, boycotts, sermons, the whole nine yards. I can’t tell you how many books about the evils of Disney my grandmother tried to get my parents to read when I was a kid.

When we later moved to Florida, I realized just how many queer people work at Disney — because historically speaking, it’s been a company that has guaranteed them safety, non-discrimination, and equal rights. That’s when I became aware of their unofficial “Gay Days” and how Christians would show up from all over the country to protest them every year. Apparently my grandmother had been upset about these days for years, but my parents had just kind of ignored her.

Out of curiosity, I ended up reading one of the books my grandmother kept leaving at our house. And friends — it’s amazing how similar that (terrible, poorly written) rhetoric was to what people are saying these days. Disney hires gay pedophiles who want to abuse your children. Disney is trying to normalize Satanism in our beautiful, Christian America.

Just tons of conspiracy theories in there that ranged from “a few bad things happened that weren’t actually Disney’s fault, but they did happen” to “Pocahontas is an evil movie, not because it distorts history and misrepresents indigenous life, but because it might teach children respect for nature. Which, as we all know, would cause them all to become Wiccans who believe in climate change.”

Like — please, take it from someone who knows. This weird fight between fundies and Disney is not new. This is not Disney’s first (gay) rodeo. These people have always believed that Disney is full of evil gays who are trying to groom and sexually abuse children.

The main difference now is that these beliefs are becoming mainstream. It’s not just conservative pastors who are talking about this. It’s not just church groups showing up to boycott Gay Day. Disney is starting to (reluctantly) say the quiet part out loud, and so are the Republicans. Disney is publicly supporting queer rights and announcing company-supported queer events and the Republican Party is publicly calling them pedophiles and enacting politically driven revenge.

This is important, because while this fight has always been important in the history of queer rights, it is now being magnified. The precedent that a fight like this could set is staggering. For better or for worse, we live in a corporation-driven country. I don’t like it any more than you do, and I’m not about to defend most of Disney’s business practices. But we do live in a nation where rights are largely tied to corporate approval, and the fact that we might be entering an age where even the most powerful corporations in the country are being banned from speaking out in favor of rights for marginalized people… that’s genuinely scary.

Like… I’ll just ask you this. Where do you think we’d be now, in 2023, if Disney had been prevented from promising its employees equal benefits in 1994? That was almost thirty years ago, and look how far things have come. When I looked up news articles for this post from that era, even then journalists, activists, and fundie church leaders were all talking about how a company of Disney’s prominence throwing their weight behind this movement could lead to the normalization of equal protections in this country.

The idea of it scared and thrilled people in equal parts even then. It still scares and thrills them now.

I keep seeing people say “I need them both to lose!” and I get it, I do. Disney has for sure done a lot of shit over the years. But I am begging you as a queer exvangelical to understand that no. You need Disney to win. You need Disney to wipe the fucking floor with these people.

Right now, this isn’t just a fight between a giant corporation and Ron DeSantis. This is a fight about the right of corporations to support marginalized groups. It’s a fight that ensures that companies like Disney still can offer benefits that a discriminatory government does not provide. It ensures that businesses much smaller than Disney can support activism.

Hell, it ensures that you can support activism.

The fight between weird Christian conspiracy theorists and Disney is not new, because the fight to prevent any tiny victory for marginalized groups is not new. The fight against the normalization of othered groups is not new.

That’s what they’re most afraid of. That each incremental victory will start to make marginalized groups feel safer, that each incremental victory will start to turn the tide of public opinion, that each incremental victory will eventually lead to sweeping law reform.

They’re afraid that they won’t be able to legally discriminate against us anymore.

So guys! Please. This fight, while hilarious, is also so fucking important. I am begging you to understand how old this fight is. These people always play the long game. They did it with Roe and they’re doing it with Disney.

We have! To keep! Pushing back!

#disney #ron desantis #gay rights #lgbt #queer #lgbt history #queer history #homophobia #florida #us politics #religious fundamentalism #christianity #long post #god that should cover all the pertinent tags and content warnings phew

52K notes · View notes

ashfae · 9 months

Text

The thing about romance is, it makes a good story.

As soon as Neil described season 2 as "quiet, gentle, romantic" I figured we'd be in for it, because as he's the first to point out, writers are liars. And the best way to deceive is with truth.

Season 2 is romantic. The trappings of romance are everywhere. Crowley tries to set up Nina and Maggie by trapping them under an awning during a rainstorm, a classic cinematic bonding technique. Aziraphale's chosen method comes from his beloved books: the ball, the dancing, appearing as a pair in public, hands held as you twirl gracefully with your heart thrilled and racing. If they can set up a sensational kiss that will unlock the happy ever after. They've lived on earth, they've studied the tropes, they know how romance works.

The problem is a story is only a story.

Nina and Maggie had the classic romantic setup completely by accident before Aziraphale and Crowley ever began trying to interfere with them. They get locked in Nina's coffeeshop. They can't escape or communicate with anyone else, they end up talking by candlelight because there's no electricity, Nina offers wine. Maggie mentions how she'd hoped for a chance to talk to Nina, and now here they are. It's every bit as much a standard as what Aziraphale and Crowley attempt to arrange. Blanket scenarios galore exist because of that starting point. We love that story. And there's nothing wrong with that.

But it's still only a story, it's not enough. Because once that moment of connection is over, however lovely it was, all the rest of the world comes flooding back in in the form of dozens of angry text messages. Nina's messy entrapping relationship hasn't magically gone away just because she and Maggie shared a romantic encounter.

And it's so tempting think oh well, that's easy. We'll just give them more romantic encounters and eventually those will overwhelm the rest of the baggage. Must do, because it'll make them fall in love, and once they realize they're in love that trumps all other considerations, right? So it'll be fine. Love Conquers All.

Neil also mentioned Pride and Prejudice.

Darcy knows he's in love early on and makes a disasterous proposal that shows that he has no understanding of Elizabeth's perspective, possibly hasn't even thought about it. They've been meeting in forest lanes for walks, conversing, had tete-a-tetes in the sitting room, danced at a ball. And while his turn of phrase isn't as flattering as he thinks, he's still offering her everything he thinks she wants and needs: affection, security, his good name, wealth, an escape from the embarrassments of her situation, the world. How can there be anything to object to? Why would anyone ever refuse so much of value?

Elizabeth quite rightly cuts him to pieces. He lashes back with a few hard truths of his own and they separate. During that separation, he thinks and he learns. He takes to heart the criticisms she offered, re-examines his assumptions, opens his eyes. Thinks about her perspective and how sometimes the only difference between pride and arrogance is where you're standing. He does the work. When they meet again he tries to demonstrate that he's learned--not in order to court her again (yet), but because the only real apology he can offer, the only one that would have weight, is to show that he's grown, he listened to her. He changed.

Elizabeth of course has her own journey, accepting that many of her own conclusions about Darcy were erroneous because they were formed without her having the full picture to hand, and once she's done that she has to apply it to her own situation as well. She loves her family, but they do place her at a disadvantage on a number of levels, leading eventually to full-out disaster as her younger sister carelessly ruins all of their reputations. It's hard to admit, it's mortifying, but Darcy was offering her a great deal she needs. His offer did have worth for all that she dismissed it as an insult. And as she learns to value his own character more highly, and then as she sees that he did listen to her even though she insulted him so thoroughly...well, she grows too. And when they do eventually come together it's not because of courting and balls. There's a big romantic gesture in his rescue of her sister but even that isn't why they'll get their happy ever after. It was just the catalyst for the conversation. They win because they've learned how to understand each other and how to communicate for the future. How they can strengthen and support each other, how to balance their strengths and weaknesses. The films leave them at the wedding, but the book shows a bit of their marriage too, and during it they keep learning from each other. Their relationship is held up as a superior love story for good reasons.

The end of season one was romantic too. Crowley stopped time rather than face a world where Aziraphale would never speak to him again, Aziraphale walked into hell to protect Crowley, they dined at the Ritz and toasted the world. But then they stopped. Sure they spent time together, talked, enjoyed each other's company. But if they were talking about important things would Crowley still be living in his car? They had a bit of respite but all that real world baggage that exists outside of the romantic moment hasn't been faced, none of it. Four or five years sounds like a long while but for beings who are quite literally older than the earth? That's just an intermission.

Nina's relationship ends, leaving her with a tangled mess; Maggie realises the sweet dream of love she's been longing for isn't as important as the real Nina. They talk. They plan. Nina will sort through her life, get closure, figure out what went wrong with Lindsay and what she wants from a relationship, learn how to ask for respect instead of just bending under her partner's demands. Maggie will support Nina the way Nina needs, which sometimes means helping her get oat milk for the shop and sometimes means giving her processing space. They're on the same page; they're going to do the work. That's why most likely they'll succeed. To quote one of my favourite fanfics: it's not happily ever after, but it's a chance. It's all going to be okay. (The Profane Comedy by Mussimm, who absolutely nailed this theme)

The romance is nice, it's lovely. We need it to keep ourselves going. To give ourselves the dreams that help us get through the days and nights. But it's not the relationship. It's not enough on its own. The wedding can be the grandest most beautiful ceremony ever with doves flying and sweeping music and bells ringing, but that doesn't guarantee the marriage will last.

Crowley and Aziraphale have had their romantic gestures, oodles of them. One wing raised to protect the other from falling stars, another from rain. Shared ground, shared interests, hands offered in friendship and held on a bus. They've tried to get to the same page, they really have. They just aren't there yet. The biggest most important things still haven't been talked about, and season 2 showed there are even more of those big important things than we'd realised.

The show paints Maggie as Aziraphale's foil and Nina as Crowley's, even to the point of Nina casually calling Maggie 'angel'. But Aziraphale's baggage is Nina's. The toxic relationship has to be processed and understood and closed, and it hasn't been, despite season one. Lindsay never really liked Nina very much, for all that they tried to keep her trapped; Heaven never really liked Aziraphale very much for all that he believed in it. They both let themselves be used. But Lindsay left Nina and went to their sister's, whereas now the head of Heaven has reached out to Aziraphale and said here, we can fix this, you can fix this, don't you want to fix this? Others are already writing about that and maybe I'll add to it later, not sure. And Crowley, like Maggie, has had a sweet dream that he has to set aside. Maybe he'll be able to pick it up again eventually, maybe not. But sometimes you offer support by buying oat milk or rescuing your beloved from the legions of hell, and sometimes you do it by standing back while they sort through their shit.

Quiet, gentle, romantic. It was.

But that's only part of the story. Now they have to do the work. They thought they had, but they were wrong, because there's so much they just hadn't touched yet and tried to cover over with relief and sleight of hand and alcohol and forgiveness. The apology dance doesn't mean much without showing that you listened and learned. They've faced so much trauma already and that should have been enough, we wanted it to be enough and so did they and it's such a blow for it to turn out that there's still more to do, that the baggage hasn't just gone away and can't be hidden under blankets or soothed with cocoa. The texts are still coming in and demanding answers.

But it'll be okay. It will. It's still a chance. And one that in the long run makes them better, builds something real that lasts.

The best stories, the ones that last longest and become classics, are the ones that don't end with the kiss under the awning or the blanket scenario or the wedding. They're the ones that heal us while the characters heal themselves. It's hard to accept that there's still more to do. Harder to imagine how it can possibly work out. And yes, bloody frustrating to wait and see.

And we'll get through that interim by telling even more stories. Because the story is never just a story. It's how we get through the work, it's what we tell ourselves so we can do the damn work. Stories are what we cling to and how we remind ourselves we're human and connect. A book is a person you can carry with you. We're not alone, none of us, stories connect us because we love them and see ourselves in them, which means we see each other.

Aziraphale's back up in Heaven to deal with his unfinished baggage; Crowley left his behind long ago and it's clearly going to come back and bite him in the arse however much he tries to go his own way. And they can't help each other with that. Not yet.

But they'll get there. So will we.

#good omens #good omens season 2 #gos2 spoilers #good omens season 2 spoilers #crowley #aziraphale #ineffable husbands #nina #maggie #nina and maggie #stories #romance #relationships #am I projecting here #of course I am isn't that the whole point?#pride and prejudice #elizabeth and darcy #quiet gentle romantic #good omens meta

6K notes · View notes

fuckyeahgoodomens · 2 months

Text

Peter Anderson: Hi, my name is Peter Anderson. I'm from Peter Anderson Studio and we created the title sequence to Good Omens Season Two. So this scene is quite literally a continuation from Season One.

An interesting detail with this scene is the fly. The fly is significant because it stores Gabriel's memory.

Gabriel is hidden in every scene. This is the first time we see it.

This goat is half bird, half goat, representing a mistake in a moment of transformation.

In the pickled herring barrel, we have literally red herrings sticking out.

A lot of the gravestones have hidden engravings, easter eggs, all written by Neil.

[This one says: HERE LIES THE FORMER SHELL OF BEELZEBUB referncing Beelzebub having a new face in S2 :), another ones are: EVERYDAY, JANE AUSTEN, Here lies ADAM (the Adam from Adam and Eve is meant)]

Another hidden Gabriel.

Our same character that was trying to escape Hell in Season One titles is also trying to escape here, moving in the opposite direction to the rest of the procession. Except this time he's apprehended and dragged back into the procession.

Our Hell spider from episode four makes a little appearance in the background here.

Can you tell where the bus is going? Director Douglas McKinnon selected Powell and Pressburger's Stairway to Heaven to put on the billboard.

Another thing to note here is the type is all handmade specifically for Good Omens. The Alphabet only exists within the show.

The big floating turnip is a nod to Azirafel's magic tricks.

The Ladies of Camelot poster we pulled from the show.

We added plaques to the back of the chairs and Neil chose who to honour.

[There are: A TALE OF TWO CITIES by CHARLES DICKENS, PRIDE AND PREJUDICE by JANE AUSTEN, THE CROW ROAD by IAIN BANKS (twice!) and GOOD OMENS by TERRY PRATCHETT (Neil missing for some reason :) <3)]

Saraqael made an appearance from Heaven.

Our Space is back from Season One. Aziraphale and Crowley are having a little dance here. A moment of flirtation. There's a tiny planet in the middle that comes into existence at this moment.

Our Scottish tartan hills make an appearance here.

The aeroplane and the airline is a little bit of a clue here.

[THY KINGDOM AIRWAYS 👀]

It's raining love hearts in reference to Aziraphale's attempt at making Maggie and Nina fall in love.

Here are elevators to Heaven and Hell. A wee thing to spot. Here is Gabriel in the lift arriving from Heaven.

We've updated our flags to reference some of the plotlines in Season Two. For example, The Second Coming.

The movie poster artwork changes every week, representing the episode plotlines and the minisodes. We made the posters to look like the time period and in this case we've got a Good Omens version of Buddy Holly.

[The posters are:]

In the snack bar some of our popcorn is actually communion wafers.

There are specific characters from Season One in the boxes watching the movie as the procession goes by. This includes some of our original concept art from Season One.

The duck playing the accordion is from a newspaper headline that someone is reading in The Dirty Donkey from one of the episodes.

[this is also from the Good Omens book :): "Daily Mail. 'Letter From America.' Um, August the third," said Newt. "Just after the story about the woman in Worms, Nebraska, who taught her duck to play the accordion."]

Each episode is showing a new movie on the screen, each one selected by Douglas, and has clues about what's to come.

The season one phone box tumbles in the background.

The big mountain is made of all the ingredients from Season Two and a couple of remnants from Season One. We are heading towards the biggest Easter Egg, which is the lift. We're heading towards the Second Coming..

#good omens #perer anderson #peter anderson studio #bts #opening title #s2 opening title #fun fact #second coming #kingdom thy airways #duck playing accordion #videos #bts videos #easter eggs

3K notes · View notes

joelsgreys · 1 year

Text

weakness

Post Outbreak! Joel Miller x Female Reader

summary: An afternoon at Bill and Frank’s place takes one hell of an unexpected turn for you and Joel when hidden feelings start coming to the surface.

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. BOSTON QZ ERA JOEL. AGE GAP (reader is in her 20’s and Joel is in his early 50’s). mentions of reader having longer hair/her hair gets brushed, reader wears a dress, no specific mention of reader’s size, but there is a brief mention of the dress fitting loose on her, Frank is sweet and makes her feel pretty, Bill is a grump, Joel is kind of soft, hidden feelings. dashes of angst, fluff, and an abundance of Frank being an absolute angel.

MOODBOARD FOR AESTHETIC PURPOSES ONLY. NO MENTION OF RACE OR BODY TYPE.

word count: 5.7k

“Can you stop fidgeting for just one second, please?” Frank scolds you lightly, bringing down the palm of his hand onto your shoulder in a small, quick slap in an attempt to get you to stop squirming. He then moves his hands back up to your hair, which is out of its usual braid and towel dried after a much, much needed wash. The sickeningly sweet scent of the floral shampoo you’d used in the shower earlier that afternoon lingers deliciously in the air around you, a refreshing and welcome change from what your hair normally smells like—grime and smoke from hours of work detail in the Boston QZ. After coming out all of the stubborn tangles that he can find, Frank then picks up a boar hairbrush and he carefully begins to run it through your locks. He starts from the roots of your hair and brings the natural bristles down, all the way through to your ends. He chuckles and says, “You know, I would be done a hell of a lot quicker if you would just sit still.”

You sigh softly, but impatiently, allowing yourself one final, uncomfortable little shuffle in the white wicker chair he has you perched on before finally giving into his request. “Alright, alright, I’m sorry,” you mumble You bring your knees up against your chest and exhale another small sigh. You can’t see his face, but you can picture the smug, satisfied smile on Franke’s face as he continues brushing your hair. “So, tell me again why we’re even doing this?” you question him just a minute later, as if he hasn’t already explained it to you about a hundred times—he wants to do something special for you. “It kind of seems like a complete waste of time, don’t you think so?”

“We’re doing this because you deserve to get dolled up for once in your adult life,” Frank states in a matter of fact tone. The world had ended when you’d been about seven years old, and he’d imagined that since then, you’d never done a single damn thing for your appearance—besides the occasional at home haircut you would give yourself every few months with an old pair of rusted shears. He’d have been absolutely right about that. “And besides, it’s something of a special occasion today,” he adds. “It’s the first day of spring. The weather outside is stunning, our flowers are finally in full bloom, and we have a nice outdoor lunch planned to celebrate the new season.”

You can’t help the way the corners of your mount turn upwards into a small smile. One might think it was all rather silly, given it was the end of the world and all, but you have to admit, you admire the way Frank manages to find genuine happiness and joy in the little things, like warm sunshine on the first day of spring. Or showing a friend what a proper hairbrush looks like. He has such a beautiful soul, something that very, very few people in this new world possess.

“Your hair is so healthy,” Frank observes a few minutes later, setting the hairbrush aside. Taking two handfuls of your hair from the front, he twists them gently and brings them around to the back of your head. He then secures them with a clear, elastic band and runs his fingers through your soft locks, maneuvering your hair until it cascades perfectly around your shoulders. Frank walks around your chair to face you, fussing until he makes sure that every stand is neatly in place. He smiles. “You should wear your hair down more often, you know. It really suits you.”

“Long, loose hair and work detail are a recipe for disaster,” you laugh, shaking your head at him. “Most of the work sites in the zone require anyone who has longer hair to keep it tied back, anyway.” You push your legs out away from your chest and plant your feet firmly on the floor. “Listen, Frank. I really do appreciate what you’re trying to do for me. I really do,” you swear. “It’s incredibly sweet, but there’s really no point. In just a few hours, Joel and I are going to have to head back into Boston where my hair goes back into its braid and I have to change back into my normal clothes.”

“Exactly. So how about you just zip it and enjoy this while it lasts?” he suggests with a tiny, cheeky grin.

“But Frank—”

“Honey, this is a fight you simply aren’t going to win, so hush. Now, come with me.” He takes your hand, pulling you out of the chair and up to your feet. “Close your eyes,” he instructs, and with a reluctant sigh, you do as you’re told. Frank leads you over towards the full length mirror in the far corner of his and Bill’s bedroom. “Okay. One, two, three—open your eyes.”

Your eyes flutter open and your mouth parts slightly in surprise.

“What the fuck,” you murmur underneath your breath, taken aback by the reflection in the mirror. The young woman staring back at you, she looks absolutely nothing like you. The hair, the hint of blush on your cheekbones—the color he’d found was one one that flatters the tone of your skin—and the thin coat of decades old mascara that he’d applied to your eyelashes; the tube had been bone fucking dry, but Frank used a few drops of water to bring it back to life, swearing up and down it was fine to put near your eyes. And then there was the dress, the goddamn dressed he’d force you into. His favorite part of the makeover and your least favorite.

“Wait until you see what I found for you to wear,” he’d told you, giddy as if it were him who would be donning a new outfit. “You’re going to love it!”

Skeptical, you had asked, “Am I though?”

Frank had gone to the boutique and found you a dress to wear, and while it was just a tad loose on your frame, he insisted that it would look just fine on you with the help of a safety pin hidden at the back of it, pulling the fabric taut. It was simple enough, white with a subtle sweetheart neckline and thin straps that tied together at your shoulders. The delicate lace fell down in a flowing skirt to just a few inches above your knees and it itched like hell, especially at your sides. Wanting to add a finishing touch to the outfit, Frank had brought you a pair of brown, strappy sandals and he’d let you know that he had a couple of different color options for a cardigan in the event it became too chilly outside.

“You look perfect,” he gushes. “Like a daydream!”

You look different. But that isn’t what brought on the shock. More than anything, you’re completely taken aback by how fucking normal you look.

Sure, coming over to Bill and Frank’s always gave you a temporary sense of normalcy. They always allowed you to take a hot shower, gave you the opportunity to properly wash your hair and change out of your dirty shirt into a new clean one. They always provided you with a warm meal presented on porcelain dishware that wasn’t stained or chipped like the shit you had back home in your crumbling apartment in Boston. You’d had several tastes of normal thanks to those two, but this drastic change to your appearance was overwhelming. Too overwhelming.

You’d never thought that you could look like this, not in this fucking lifetime.

Frank immediately picks up on your emotions, senses how you’re feeling. Standing behind you, he places his two hands on your shoulders and leans his head forward, pressing his cheek against yours as his kind eyes meet your tearful gaze in the mirror. “You look absolutely beautiful,” he whispers, giving your shoulders a gentle squeeze. “I really hope you feel beautiful. You deserve it. You deserve so much more, but if I can at least give you this much, then my mission is accomplished.”

You open your mouth to speak, but words fall short. Afraid that you might burst into tears on the spot, you clamp your mouth shut and give him the tiniest little nod of your head accompanied by a quivering smile of gratitude.

Frank smiles back. “Good. Now, come on, let’s go out front and have lunch.” His hands fall from your shoulders and he ushers you out into the hallway and towards the staircase. Looking over his shoulder, he gives you a wink. “I’m really eager to see what your man thinks of your new look.”

“What?” you sputter, almost tripping over your own two feet. “Who—you mean, Joel?”

Shit. You’d almost forgotten about Joel.

What the hell is he going to say when he sees you like this?

What’s he going to think?

Probably that you look utterly fucking ridiculous, that’s what.

“Who else would I be talking about? Bill?” Frank snorts. “Yes, I’m talking about Joel.”

You glare at his back. This isn’t the first time Frank has teased you about Joel Miller, and despite the countless times you’ve sworn to him that there was nothing going on between the two of you, he insists on believing otherwise, adamant that there has to be something more there. “Don’t start with this shit again. He is not my man, and you damn well know that.”

“He might as well be,” Frank shrugs his shoulders nonchalantly as he leads you down the staircase.

“Frank, I’m being serious,” you say. Normally, weren’t so uptight about it all, but today, you’re not finding his antics amusing in the slightest, not while you’re wearing goop on your face and sporting a fucking dress. “I’ve told you a million times that there is nothing going on between me and Joel. He’s my partner.” You pause briefly, realizing how that must have sounded, and add in emphasis, “He’s my work partner. We work together, Frank. We smuggle shit together. That’s it.”

Frank stops at the bottom of the staircase and turns to you, letting out a curious hum. “Hmm. And if I remember correctly, you two also live together, you sleep in the same bed together, you spend every waking moment from sunrise to fucking sunset together—I have never heard of two work partners being that close, sweetheart.”

Stubborn, you shake your head. “He’s like fifty!”

“The world ended and that’s your concern? An age gap?” he questions. “Really?”

“Frank,” you plead his name, groaning. “I swear it. We’re nothing to each other. Joel is—well, he’s Joel. He’s not exactly the type of man who does that. You know, feelings and shit.”

He throws his head back slightly, letting out a loud laugh that echoes through the foyer of his home. “Oh, trust me. I know that much. Between you and me, I have to say that he reminds me a whole lot of Bill,” he muses. He notices the horrified expression that crosses your face and laughs again, holding up his hands in defense. “Wait a minute, just hear me out. They’re polar opposites in some ways, but in most ways, they’re almost the same fucking person. Joel is just like Bill. Cranky. Grumpy. He hates everyone and everything. Kind of man who’ll stab someone if they so much as look at him the wrong way. Would you say that’s pretty accurate?”

“Yeah, sounds like Joel Miller,” you have to admit. As much as you did not want to think of Joel being the same person as Bill, Frank had a pretty good point.

“But Joel also reminds me of Bill because he’s the kind of man who means well when it comes to the people that he cares about. The kind of man who will do whatever it takes to protect what is his,” he further explains. He pauses and then asks, “Let me ask you something. You trust him, right?”

You don’t even miss a beat, answering, “Of course. With my life.”

He ticks his index finger at you. “Aha! Exactly!” he exclaims. “You know that Joel would never let anyone lay so much as a finger on you. He’d never let anything bad happen to you. And why is that?”

You stare at him blankly, unsure of how to respond. “Is this a trick question?”

Huffing, Frank rolls his eyes and lets out a disappointed sigh, as if you’d missed the obvious. “It’s because you mean something to him, sweetheart. Whether you choose to let yourself believe it or not, you mean something to Joel Miller.”

For a moment, it feels like all the wind’s been knocked out of you.

Could Frank actually be right?

Do you actually mean something to Joel?

No, that was impossible. Joel Miller doesn’t give a shit about anyone or anything—all he cares about is surviving long enough to find Tommy again one day, and even then, he never speaks of his younger brother too kindly. He’s been hardened by this world, closed himself off, put up a barrier around himself that nothing can permeate. Not even you.

“Under that tough, rugged exterior, there’s a soft spot. It’s there, for you and only for you.” Frank’s eyes glimmer, speaking a truth he’s been wanting to tell you for the better part of the last several months. “You might need to do some digging to find it, but it’s there.”

“I just don’t understand why you would think that,” you confess, shaking your head. “Joel has never said anything to me to indicate that I mean something to him. More often than not, I find myself wondering if even considering us to be friends is too generous.” You cross your arms over your chest, growing uncomfortable under his knowing stare. “Yes, Joel looks out for me, but that’s only because we work together so well. I know my way around. He needs me, especially if he plans on getting to Tommy.”

Frank bites his bottom lip, stifling another laugh.

“What? What’s so funny?”

“Oh, sweetheart. You don’t even realize it, do you?”

Your eyebrows knit together, confused. “What? Realize what?”

“You are his weakness.”

He’d said it so simply, and yet there goes the rest of your air leaving your lungs, an invisible first driving itself right into your gut.

“Of course Joel isn’t going to tell you how he feels about you. He’s afraid,” Frank remarks, sounding so sure as if he had been told that by Joel Miller himself.

“You’re wrong. Joel isn’t afraid of anything,” you counter in the steadiest voice you can muster. “You’re wrong, Frank.”

“He’s afraid because he knows how dangerous it is, having a weakness in the form of a person he cares about more than anything can be in a world like this.” Any trace of teasing or playfulness had disappeared from Frank’s expression. He speaks gently, but with purpose, with such seriousness that it makes your heart sink further and further down into the pits of your stomach.

When you speak again, your voice is strained, thick with emotions you’re trying so desperately to shove down. “Frank, you really need to put down the fucking romance novels.” Before he can say another word to you about it, you place a hand lightly on your stomach. “I’m really hungry. Can we go eat now? Please?”

Thankfully, he gets the hint to drop the subject.

“Of course. Come on” Frank takes your hand. He opens the front door and leads you outside and onto the freshly landscaped front lawn. He had been right, the flowers were in full bloom—the small, round table he’d set was positioned in a perfect spot so that no matter where anyone sat, they would have a view of the colorful roses and azaleas he and Bill had planted around the perimeter of the yard.

As soon as he sees you two approaching, Bill throws up his hands in a dramatic fashion. “It’s about goddamn time!” He grouches loudly. “Jesus Christ, Frank. I’m fucking starving!”

“Sorry, got caught up inside.” Frank tosses his partner a sweet smile as he releases your hand. “But look, I found myself something pretty!”

Heat floods your cheeks. You should have known better than to think he wasn’t going to make a fuss about your new appearance. “Frank, please. Don’t.”

“Oh come now, you know I have to show you off!”

Joel, whose back had been turned towards you, furrows his eyebrows and he glances over his shoulder, looking to see what Frank was referring to. His dark brown eyes widen just ever so slightly, the grip around his glass of red wine tightening in complete surprise at the sight of you. Frank had failed, quite miserably, to convince him to dress up for the occasion, but at the very least, he’d talked him into wearing one of the nicer shirts he'd found at the boutique, a neatly pressed, sage green button up with long sleeves that, much to Frank’s chagrin, Joel had rolled up to his elbows. His graying, dark brown curls might have even had a comb run through them, but it;s difficult to tell if the way his thick locks were effortlessly disheveled was natural or the result of his efforts to tame them.

“What do you think, Joel?” Frank beams proudly, as if presenting the man with one of his painted art pieces.

Joel doesn’t respond. His eyes remain glued on you, following as you walk around the table and take your usual place beside him.

“Way to put me on the spot, Frank,” you mutter, your face growing warmer and warmer with every second that ticks by. You silently urge yourself to get a grip as you reach for the crisp, white cloth napkin next to your plate and drape it over your lap. The smoked, wild rabbit Bill had cooked up for lunch smells heavenly—Frank knows it’s your absolute favorite dish, and so he had made sure Bill put it on today’s menu, bless his heart.

Joel still hasn’t uttered a single word. Part of you hopes he wouldn’t.

“Joel?” Frank prompts as he picks up his own cloth napkin. “Doesn’t she look pretty?”

You glare daggers at him from across the table and hiss, “Frank!”

Finally, Joel sets down his glass of wine and turns slowly, angling his body towards yours. When he speaks, his voice is low, but clear as day as he looks at you, “Yeah. She looks very pretty.”

His eyes flicker up to meet yours, causing your heart to skip a beat inside of your chest and a strange warmth to bloom in your belly.

Had he actually meant that?

“You look real nice,” he adds, giving you a subtle nod of his head. He lets his sights linger on you for another moment before tearing his gaze away. He then turns back to the table, picking up his glass of wine once again, chugging what’s left of it before reaching for the bottle to pour himself another.

Bill clears his throat roughly. “Well, if everyone’s done playing dress up, I’d really like to fucking eat now.”

Meals with Bill and Frank were always pleasant.

Well, meals with Frank were always pleasant.

Although Bill had gotten used to having you and Joel over as guests and didn’t see either of you as a threat anymore, he still preferred to keep you both at arm’s length, a choice you two respected. He hardly ever said much and often chose to let his partner do all the talking unless the conversation had anything to do with trading supplies. Only then would he step in.

As you’d tucked into your meal of wild rabbit and garden vegetables, you could feel Joel throwing subtle glances your way every so often. It was half expected that he would, seeing as he’d never seen you like this before. He was so used to seeing you in tattered, dirty old clothes with dirt and grime caked onto your skin and in your hair.

Surely, he must have felt like he was sitting next to a complete stranger, not his smuggling partner.

About an hour later, once everyone has finished eating, you offer to help Frank clear and clean up the table and wash the dishes. He settles for letting you help him bring everything inside, but shoos you away before you can even think about lifting another finger. “Don’t worry, I’ve got it,” he says, waving you away from the kitchen sink with his hands. “You and Joel are taking off in just a couple hours, so go on and get some rest,” he suggests. “Oh, by the way, we found some new books to add to the collection. Might find something you like. Go ahead and check them out.”

“But I forgot my library card at home,” you joke lamely, although it earns you a sincere laugh from your friend. You pad out of the kitchen and into the living room, straight over towards a grand oak bookshelf that is packed tightly to the brim with dozens and dozens of books of various genres. You hadn’t been all that much of a reader before, but thanks to Frank, who always sent you home with at least two or three works in your pack, reading had become one of your favorite hobbies over the last few months, a sweet little escape that took you out of your shoddy apartment in the zone and into another world. You start searching the titles for the new finds he’d mentioned. Spotting one of them, you pluck it from the shelf, a paperback titled, A Midsummer Night’s Dream. Opening it up, you begin thumbing through the pages, quickly realizing that it’s play—you’ve never read a play before. Still not convinced if it’s one you would like to take home with you, you flip back to the first page and start reading with a curious little hum.

You had been so preoccupied with it that you hadn’t noticed Joel standing behind you, leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed over his chest until he clears his throat, and asks, “Find somethin’ good?”

Startled, you whirl around, nearly dropping the book in your hands. “Jesus Christ, Joel,” you breathe out, clutching it tightly against your chest as your heart rate slows. “Don’t sneak up on me like that!”

“Not my fuckin’ fault you were too busy with your nose buried in a book,” he states, trying his hardest to fight the small smirk threatening to cross his lips. He uncrosses his arms and pushes himself away from the doorframe.

A chuckle escapes you, almost nervously, as he slowly starts walking over towards you, his brown boots heavy on the hardwood floor. He takes the book from your hands, humming as he reads the cover. “Shakespeare, huh?”

“You know Shakespeare?” you toss him a teeny, lopsided smile as you tease, “He from your time?”

Joel lightly smacks your arm with the worn paperback. “Yeah, I know Shakespeare and he was about four hundred fuckin’ years before my time, thank you very much.” He flips it over, eyes skimming the text on the back. “Had the world not gone to shit, you would’ve grown up and spent your entire middle school career being forced by English teachers to read all his shit and write essays tryin’ to interpret it all.” He hands it back over to you. “Here.”

“Sounds like a real fucking dream,” you deadpan. You glance down, running your index finger down the spine of the book. You’re trying, almost painfully, to ignore how Joel’s eyes glaze over you from head to toe.

“Y’know, it’s kinda nice,” he remarks quietly, breaking the brief moment of silence that had fallen over the two of you. “Seein’ you like this.”

You keep your eyes fixed on the book and scoff. “What? In a dress?”

“When we’re here, you let your guard down. Ain’t always lookin’ over your shoulder. You smile a hell of a lot more.” He pauses, then adds, “You look happy here. Sure, this dress looks nice on you. Your smile looks even fuckin’ better, though.”

Your breath hitches in your throat. More than his words, it’s the genuine tone in which he had said them—you’d never even realized Joel noticed things like that. Whether you were happy or not, how often you smiled. Or didn’t smile.

You force a small chuckle. “It’s the only sense of normalcy that we get. Of course I look happy when we’re here. Because I am happy when we’re here.” Still refusing to meet his gaze, you turn around and walk over to the couch towards your pack. Opening the top, you quickly shove the book inside.

When you hear Joel’s footsteps coming up behind you, you stiffen slightly.

“Frank, he adores the hell outta you,” Joel says. He seems to hesitate, but then continues, “You ever think of askin’ him to stay here?”

“You kidding?” You snort in response. “Bill wouldn’t allow that. Never.”

Joel’s hands go to his hips, knowing you had a point. “But you know Frank can convince him of almost anythin’, don’t you? And besides, believe it or not, Bill actually likes you. He loves Frank more than anythin’ and you make Frank happy.”

You finally turn around to face and find yourself caught off guard by how close he’s standing to you. “Joel, what exactly are you getting at?” You raise an eyebrow before playfully asking, “Are you trying to get rid of me or something, Miller?”

Joel quickly shakes his head. “Of course not. All I’m sayin’ is that—” He stops and lowers his voice, just in case Bill or Frank happen to be wandering nearby. “I like seein’ this side of you. The happy side. The normal side.” He shrugs his shoulders, the lean muscles of his upper body flexing with the movement against the smooth fabric of his shirt. “Seein’ you all cleaned up, well fed and content—” He trails off once again. “Shouldn’t be a rare occurrence, y’know? You’d clearly be better off here with them and you know that with Frank’s help, we could probably talk Bill into letting you stay.”

The second you realize he’s being serious, your smile fades.

“What? But what about you?”

“Darlin’, Frank’s good, but he’s not a goddamn miracle worker. Even if he tried, that’s not somethin’ Bill would ever go for,” Joel admits, lifting a hand and raking his fingers through his hair. “And even if he did, we’d fuckin’ kill each other by the end of the first week.”

Bill and Joel being neighbors?

Talk about a different kind of apocalypse, you think to yourself.

“I know that much,” you reply with a tiny eye roll. “What I mean is, do you honestly think that I would leave my life in Boston?”

“That ain’t no fuckin’ life—”

You hold up a hand, stopping him. “I know it’s not. But it’s my life with you, Joel.”

The rough creases on his forehead suddenly soften. That was the first time you’d ever seen that happen.

The scowl on his face wasn’t permanent after all.

“Yes, this is nice. This patch of town, this house, the running water, the food, the clothes—this is a decent life. More than decent. In this world that we’re living in, this place is heaven. But without you, all of it would mean absolutely nothing to me. I wouldn’t be happy here, not without you.”

Joel tilts his head back, shaking it lightly. “Think about what you’re sayin’ here.”

“I know what I’m saying.” Before your brain and your body can even make the connection, you find yourself taking a step towards him, shrinking the gap between your bodies even further. You glance up at him, somehow finally finding the courage to have your eyes meet his. “I refuse to leave your side, Joel. That’s never going to happen. Not if I can fucking help it. Do you understand that?”

Joel exhales the breath he’d been holding, his warm breath tickling your face.

“I mean it, Joel. We’re in this shitty ass fucking world, together. No little slice of heaven could ever get me to leave you behind, no matter how good it is,” you declare, silently wondering to yourself where the hell you were even finding the balls to confess all of this to him. “Okay?”

“You’d be safer here than in the QZ, with all that shit’s that been goin’ down—”

“I’m the safest when I’m with you, Joel. I know I am.”

You lift your hand to his face. At first, there’s minor hesitation on your part, but you will yourself to place it on his cheek. Although your touch is gentle, Joel can’t help but wince. Not because he doesn’t want you to touch him, but because it had been so fucking long since anyone had ever touched him like that.

Since he’d let anyone touch him like that.

He closes his eyes and after a second or two of resisting, he finally allows himself to relax his tense muscles and he sinks into your touch.

Joel lets himself savor the feeling of your hand on his face. His bottom lip gives a subtle tremble when you softly start to graze your thumb down along his jawline. His beard, which you often playfully tease him about now that it’s beginning to gray just like his hair, feels rough and scratchy, and yet somehow still soft underneath your fingertips.

“Hey,” you murmur, and he forces his eyes to snap open. “We’re in this together. That’s how it’s been and that’s how it’s going to stay,” you assure him. “My place is with you, Joel.”

Joel manages to speak through tight lips, his voice strained. “You really fuckin’ gotta stop talkin’ to me like that, darlin’.”

You carefully move your hand away from his face, letting it drop back down to your side. “Why?”

“‘Cause. Shit like that is dangerous.”

“Dangerous,” you repeat, almost laughing. “Of all the things—”

Then, Frank’s words from earlier come to mind.

He’s afraid because he knows how dangerous it is, having a weakness in the form of a person he cares about more than anything can be in a world like this.

Joel’s dark eyes flicker to the strap of your dress, noticing it had started sliding off your shoulder. Before he can even think to stop himself, he reaches out and pulls it up back into place, his rough, calloused fingers brushing against your smooth skin. “You’re so soft,” he murmurs under his breath. All those fucking years of working with you, even sharing a bed together, and he had no idea of what it was like to touch you.

“Joel…”

Your heart had all but climbed up into your throat.

“Everythin’ you just said a minute ago, ‘bout not wanting to stay here without me,” he starts to say, “I know that it’s fuckin’ selfish of me, but I’m real glad you said it. ‘Cause no way in hell do I want a life without you. I know it’s wrong but—”

Placing your hands delicately on his shoulders, you lift yourself up on your toes and cut him off mid-sentence by pressing your lips softly against his. The clean scent of the soap Frank had given him to shower with fills your senses and you yearn to have more of him, you nearly ache to get a real taste of him—but your courage only went so far. Thankfully, Joel knows to take over from here. One of his arms snakes its way around your waist, pulling you flush against his chest while the other reaches up, the warm palm of his hand pressing against your cheek. His tongue swipes lightly across your bottom lip, silently asking for permission to explore your mouth just a little bit further.

You eagerly grant him access, half expecting his mouth to ravage yours.

Much to your surprise, Joel remains gentle.

The way that he kisses you, the way he holds your body against his, the way his large hand—the same hand that slits throats and breaks bones—delicately cradles the side of your face like you’re made of porcelain.

“Joel,” you nearly whimper his name when he breaks away.

His face remains just inches from yours.

“Fuck,” he mutters, leaning his forehead against yours, fighting to catch his breath. “We’ll need to get goin’ soon.”

“I know.” You nod, hoping you don’t sound as disappointed as you feel. You can sense that Joel, much like yourself, is at war with himself over what had just happened. Not that either of you regretted it, at least you certainly don’t, but the realization that you two have just crossed a line you’ll never come back from was daunting.

Joel lifts his head, lightly pressing his lips against your forehead. He then forces himself to release you from his arms and steps back, dropping them back down at his sides. “I need to, uh, I need to go get some things from Bill. Y’know, get my pack ready before we take off.”

You nod again. “I’ll start changing and get another pack of supplies ready as well.” You pause, clearing your throat awkwardly. “Joel, about what just happened—”

He silently shakes his head before leaning down, capturing your mouth with his.

This kiss is short and quick, and when he pulls away, he says nothing. He turns on the heel of his boot and disappears, heading out to meet Bill in the garage.

Your hand flies to your mouth, your fingers lightly touching your lips.

“Well, well, well.”

Looking over your shoulder, your throat goes dry when you see Frank standing there, hands on his hips and a knowing, smug expression on his face.

“How long have you been standing back there?”

“Long enough.” Even from a distance, you catch the amused twinkle in his eye. “What did I tell you?”

You turn away from him, biting your lower lip.

So maybe he’d been right after all.

Maybe you were Joel’s weakness.

But he was yours too.

#joel miller x you #joel miller imagine #joel miller x reader #joel miller fic #joel miller #joel miller angst #joel miller fluff #tlou fanfiction #tlou imagine #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us fic #joel miller pedro pascal #pedro pascal imagine #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x y/n #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader

11K notes · View notes

going-to-ikea-for-the-fries · 28 days

Text

It's a Match! || poly!141 x Reader

[Chapter 27] || [Chapter 29]

Pairing: 141 x gn!Reader Words: 1.2K~ cw: illness, injuries, hurt/comfort, fluff, love confessions! Summary: While overcoming recent heartbreak, you decide to join Tinder in search of a rebound. Your friends advise to just Swipe Right indiscriminately... What happens when 4 soldiers from the same squad match with you? a/n: Just a cute little moment

Chapter 28: How in the-

The trip with John was short but sweet. A full weekend together, away from everything…

Followed by 4 whole weeks alone. Not that you minded the extra piece and quiet.

You were normally kept at a distance from the boys and their line of work. Arms length, not because they don’t trust you, but because just like Simon learned to drop Ghost at the door, the rest drop work at the door too.

The closest thing you get to ‘work’ is funny anecdotes that can even make you laugh, OR soft, whispered, retelling of memories as your hands snake over their rough skins, fingers grazing the scars that those memories left behind.

Today was a first. In a lot of ways.

The boys showed up at your flat at 3 A.M. after spending a whole month out of Hereford and in God knows where.

You had opened the door very wearily to the sight of the four of them, not even having changed out of their tactical gear, looking like they had been through hell.

Kyle was walking with a limp and a groan, his back stiff and an inability to properly swivel side to side at the hips.

Johnny had gotten his shoulder shot?? Plus his knee was acting up so he was also limping.

John was, also, limping. His back was also stiff and he murmured something about having pulled a muscle.

And Simon? The man’s eyes were surrounded by circles darker than you’d ever seen them, his shoulders slumped. He moved normally, unlike the others. And that concerned you more than anything.

“Jesus, what happened?”

“Mission mishaps. They happen sometimes, da’lin’.” John told you soothingly as he attempted to press a kiss to the crown of your head, but wincing when he felt the pain shoot up his spine.

“Sounds to me like more than mishaps. There’s no way all four of you are injured and it was just a ‘mishap’.” You scolded them as you carefully helped them off their gear, multiple men groaning and grunting in pain as the heavy weights were shed from their torsos.

“Have you been checked?”

“Yes, we went to medic before coming over-” Kyle told you.

“And they let you leave on foot? You look like you all should be on bed rest!” You scolded them.

“And that’s why we’re here.” Johnny added before letting out a groan when you moved his arm, sending pain barreling down his arm.

“How in the-” You murmured as you noted the patched up bullet wound.

“Don’t ask…” Kyle muttered under his breath, a whimper of a sound that you had never quite heard from him.

They were like lost puppies… Needy for being lulled to sleep by a soft hand caressing them behind the ears after some nasty man kicked them on the street.

So that’s how you ended up with four injured soldiers in your house. Ghost took the living room couch, leaving the bed for John and Kyle and Johnny.

“Don’t get any blood on my bed, Johnny!” You warned him. “If something happens, you call me.” You had added as you made sure they were as comfortable as can be before you slipped out of the room.

Reaching the living room, it was now well past 4 A.M. Simon was lying there, one leg swung over the back of your couch, and eyes locked on the shower. “You okay, Simon?” You checked softly.

“Fine, sweetheart.”

“Don’t look fine to me.” You retorted and sat on the armchair by his head, looking down at him, your hand finding his and caressing it.

He twitched a bit against the pillows, brown eyes fluttering for a moment as he took a deep breath. “Mission went tits up. Strained ourselves trying to finish.”

“You too, then?” You asked him and he nodded. “Where?”

“Everywhere. I’m sore all over… And I think I have a fever.” He admitted.

“Do you wanna try a shower?” You suggested and he shook his head.

“I don’t wanna stand up for that long… I get dizzy.”

“And a bath?” You added.

“…” Simon didn’t answer but he groaned and forced himself to stand up. You helped guide him to the bathroom.

After lowering the stopper and allowing the water to flow into the tub, you looked at Simon. “I’ll be outside, okay? I’ll give you privacy.” You told him softly.

Leaning up, you kissed his pale cheek, and turned away…

Only for him to catch you by the wrist. “Stay.”

“What?” You asked him, unsure you heard him right.

“Stay. Please.” He requested.

“But… you said you didn’t-” You trailed off, the memory of his fear of exposing his body to you (or anyone) clear in your mind.

“I know what I said. Just… Please.” He insisted.

“Okay.” You replied and nodded, stepping forward again. He reached his arms up, painfully slowly, the same way John and Kyle and Johnny had.

You grabbed the hem of his t-shirt and slowly rolled it up, your eyes finding his scar-riddled torso for the first time. Blotchy skin due to chemical burns here and there, big gashes and smaller cuts spread throughout.

Simon was looking away the whole time as you helped him off his cargos and underwear. The injuries continued down his legs, every inch of him nasty and ugly, only due to how brutal his scars were. In reality, it all made no difference to you.

“You okay?” You checked on him. He nodded slowly, his eyes screwed shut.

“Let’s get you into the water, okay? It’ll do you good.” You said as you grabbed him by the bicep and helped get him into a seated position inside the tub.

Then, you knelt by his side just as he was grunting in relief, his muscles relaxing in the water.

The bathtub that had felt tight with you and Johnny in it months ago, now felt even smaller with Simon Riley in it.

Grabbing the sponge, you carefully ran it over his torso and shoulders, wetting the part of him that didn’t fit in the bath.

The blond leaned his head back on the wall and opened his eyes, finding you looking at him.

“Thank you.” Simon told you in a whisper.

“For bathing you?”

“For dating me.” He replied, causing you to smile.

“My, Simon, you might be sicker than I expected. Where’s the confidence?” You teased him good-naturely, earning a soft chuckle from him.

“Was never here. Just faking it until I made it…” He admitted and shook his head, letting it lull against the tiles.

“I see, well… It worked.” You joked as you kept wetting his body carefully.

“We’re lucky to have you.” He murmured. “You didn’t have to do this. To put up with us.”

“It’s not putting up if I like you.” You told him. “Besides… you take care of me. I take care of you. Mutually beneficial, that’s what a relationship should be.”

“I don’t take care of you because I like you.” Simon whispered, a drowsy look in his tired eyes.

“Then what for?” You asked him. “Because you want to shag me that bad?” You joked again and winked.

“No… because I love you.” Simon muttered, his lips a bit lazy in the way he said it, clearly too relaxed and tired and groggy to really think straight.

Your eyes widened and your jaw dropped open, your hands going limp and dropping the sponge. “Simon…”

“You don’t have to say it back.” He said as he rolled his head against the tile wall, side to side. “Just wanted you to know.”

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

taglist (CLOSED! not adding anyone else, sorry!):

@daisychainsinknots , @bunnysdaydreams , @iite-cool , @lahniu , @pagesfalling , @tapioca-milktea1978 , @live-love-be-unique , @thelaisydazy , @littleghosthunter , @bossva , @emotion-no-hot-yes-hotel-trivago , @chamomiletealeaf , @ghosts-hoe , @kariiiel , @ltbarnes , @irregulardongyoung , @spacelia , @hayleybarnesx , @cod-z , @frescoisnotinthemilitary , @leeeenistop , @lucienbarkbark , @xxshadowbabexx

@severenswife , @enarien, @agoodmoviekiss , @l0lziez , @whos-fran , @greatstormcat , @openup-yourmind , @neoarchipelago , @sodavrr , @cutiecusp , @lilliumrorum , @c-nstantine , @kneelforloki , @comeonatmebruh , @codsunshine , @waiting-so-long , @captainquake42 , @gazspookiebear , @mynameismisty , @reap3erslov3 , @reaper-chan666 , @poohkie90 , @kitwithnokat , @stick-the-dumbass , @mothsdrabbles , @justanerd1 , @thesinsoflust , @thriving-n-jiving , @blckbrrybasket

#ikea writes 💚#it's a match! fic #cod modern warfare #cod fanfic #captain john price #john soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #simon ghost riley #text story #cod x reader #call of duty x reader #141 x reader #simon ghost riley deserves good things #simon ghost riley has a lot of love to give #love confessions

1K notes · View notes

girl-of-many-fandoms · 4 months

Text

Ocean Blue Eyes // 2

Pairing: Percy Jackson x Reader

Warning: none

Part 1 Part 2

MASTERLIST

---

From afar Percy could easily make out the silhouette of the girl who unknowingly stole his heart. He couldn't take his eyes off of her as she sat on a log staring out into the horizon.

The cool breeze caressed her skin sending a shiver up her spine. Y/N regretted leaving her zip-up jacket in her cabin but she didn't initially plan to sit here this long. However, when the sun began to set she couldn't leave without taking in the beauty of the sky. Hues of yellow and gold painted the sky as the sun slowly said goodbye to Camp Half-Blood.

It's been a few days since her and Percy shared a moment together a couple feet away from where she currently sat. She vividly remembers the way he stared at her, his touch, the way his soft lips felt against hers.

Percy has been trying to find a way to talk to Y/N. He wasn't sure if he had made the right choice kissing his friend or if he blew his shot entirely. He saw her shiver once more and removed his grey hoodie before making his way over to her.

Y/N jumped slightly at the feeling of something being draped over her shoulders. She didn't have to guess whose jacket now laid on her shoulders as the familiar and comforting scent of her friend filled her nostrils.

"Hey you."

"Hey stranger."

Percy joined her on the log and for a moment they didn't say a word, they just sat in each other’s presence, both trying to figure out how to approach the elephant in the room.

"So uh-"

"I'm so-"

The pair giggled at their attempt at sparking a conversation. The blue eyed demigod gestured for her to go first.

"Ladies first." He said.

"Well...uhh..how have you been?"

"Seriously?" Percy quirked an eyebrow at her with a smirk on his face making Y/N’s cheeks heat up. Y/N nodded her head causing Percy to laugh.

"Fine. For the past couple days I've been trying to figure out if I may have eternally screwed up our friendship and I might have since you've avoided me since then."

"I wasn't avoiding you." Y/N immediately got defensive but Percy proceeded to list out the many occasions she avoided him.

"Oh really? You haven't jogged past my cabin since then like you normally would, you've changed your route. I tried to have lunch with you yesterday but you took off when you saw me heading towards you. You also ditched training with me to train with Clarisse."

Truth be told he was hurt. Hurt by the fact that she chose to avoid him at all costs. Y/N turned to face him and he did the same, their knees now touched each other.

"I only kept my distance because I didn't know how this conversation would go. I wasn't ready to hear you say that you made a mistake by kissing me and that we should remain friends, isn't that what you're going to say?" Although she didn’t show it, she was anxious. She didn't know what words were going to come out of his mouth but she was betting on him regretting the kiss.

"For someone so smart, you're so clueless sometimes." Percy's lips turned up into a smile, watching as confusion etched its way onto her face.

"What?"

Without giving her a chance to think about what's happening, Percy cupped both her cheeks with his hands and pulled her in for a kiss. Y/N didn't hesitate to kiss him back as she gently held onto his forearm.

This kiss was much more intense compared to the last one as they both tried to pour all their emotions into it. Somewhere along the line they both remembered they needed air and slowly broke the kiss. Percy pressed his forehead against hers and interlaced their fingers together.

"Did that say I want us to be just friends?"

"No, not at all."

Percy kissed the top of her head as she snuggled closed into him. He didn't know where this would take them but he knew for sure that he would do anything for the girl in his arms.

As for Y/N, she too didn't know what the future holds but she was certain that they'd face whatever comes their way together.

#percy jackson x y/n #percy jackson x you #percy jackson and the olympians #percy jackson x reader #percy jackson

1K notes · View notes

choiwonder · 1 year

Text

FIRST FOR EVERYTHING . YEONJUN

tw/cw ༝ 0.6k wc, some profanity, new established relationship, lowkey fboy yeonjun, implies spending the night together, a little suggestive but not rlly, fluff!!, lots of teasing from yeonjun, he’s very much in love and clingy.

“ow,” yeonjun attempted to turn in his sleep, stricken awake by the pain in his arm that made it difficult to move in the first place. his eyebrows furrowed upon the sting running up his arm. through each passing second he seemed to have lost the feeling in his limb and hastily opened his eyes in concern only to find the head of a stranger resting idly.

“the fuck?” he pulled his arm from under your head, showing no sympathy for the fact you were using his arm as a pillow. it was as you muttered harsh curse words under your breath that yeonjun began to realize that you were no ordinary stranger.

“what the fuck, yeonjun?” you groan, rubbing your face from the slight pain of it suddenly hitting the surface of his mattress.

the lips of the black haired male stretched into a smile, the sight of you in his bed, naked but covered elegantly by his sheets jogging his memory of last night's event that led to this fine morning.

you were his first.

the first to which he found himself telling everything about. the first to slowly lean him into commitment. the first to spend the night together and not just be a one night stand.

“so you stayed the night, hm?” he grins, throwing himself on top of you much to your dismay.

he nuzzles his face in your neck despite your groaning and complaints of your face still hurting.

“yeah, because you begged me to, asshole,” huffing, you push him away from you and face the opposite side.

“my bad,” yeonjun’s voice implying his apology held no ounce of genuinity. it was clear what he did meant nothing to him as he moves himself behind you and slides an arm across your waist, “was i in your dreams?”

you scoff, “no.”

“i bet i was, don’t lie,” he teases, squeezing the skin of your stomach. in all honesty, having you in his room was a dream in itself.

you reward him with no response, closing your eyes shut in hopes of regaining the sleep you lost speaking to him. yeonjun could only frown, his body subconsciously invading your personal space, “did i look pretty at least?”

you tuck your face into your pillow, aiming to hide the small smile dressing your features. of course, yeonjun had known you all to well by now to know you’re hiding from him. your black haired boyfriend grins, poking at your sides, “i did, didn’t i?!”

“stop,” you laugh, hands tickling at your sides.

yeonjun hums, abiding to your request, his body planted on top of yours. his eyes seemed heterochromic, the sunlight affecting the color in which you saw them. your hands comb through his near shoulder length hair with a sigh, “your hair’s getting long, junnie. you’re starting to look prettier than me.”

“shut up,” he rolls his eyes, “we both know that’s not true.”

you frown, carefully reaching a hand up, your fingers tracing the outline of his lips.

yeonjun couldn’t believe the feeling bubbling in his stomach. he wondered where your mind roamed as your fingers delicately tucked a piece of hair behind his ear, “you’re so pretty, yeonjun… so pretty,” you mumbled, the thoughts in your head spoken aloud. mainly to not blow up his ego more than it already has.

yeonjun smiles, not sure if you were aware of your habit.

“don’t do that,” he changes the subject, staring down at you, “call me junnie.”

you hummed as a source of apology, pressing a kiss to each side of his mouth, “sorry, junnie.”

“better,” he cuddles himself into your chest, “you still love me?”

you roll your eyes at his stupid question.

“more than you know…”

taglist: @luvrhyune @ttyunz

4K notes · View notes

rizsu · 6 months

Text

barely delusional megumi, itadori, nanami.

-> tokyo revengers & haikyuu version

megumi fushiguro.

life as megumi is simple. he is simple. his routine never over-complicates itself nor will he allow it to do so. on top of that, he will always be sure to attend every plan he agreed upon — well, all except for one. you see, the prior plan before the plan with itadori and nobara had slipped his mind. it's only when he checked his phone for the time is when he remembered.

the trio planned for an evening-to-night hangout session. first, dinner. dinner is important. second, an arcade session. third, amusement park. a well-thought plan that can finally make its way out of being just a "plan." kind of.

"hey, are we still on for the arcade later?" itadori asks, licking the drips of his popsicle on his forearm.

megumi opens his mouth only to close it back. he takes a popsicle from the bag, busying himself with the snack, he replies, "can't, i promised my girlfriend i'll sleep over tonight."

silence. it's a sudden moment of silence. the kind of silence before something goes south.

one, two, three...

"YOU HAVE A GIRLFRIEND!?"

"YOU PROMISED YOUR WHO?!"

both itadori and nobara voice their astonishment in unison. it's not every day you hear megumi speak about anything bordering romance. megumi, on the other hand, doesn't answer. his full attention is on his popsicle. indeed, he does feel the two pairs of eyes on him but will he respond to their shock? yes, actually.

"i said what i said," he shrugs, not understanding why it's so shocking.

nobara's jaw hangs loose. her popsicle already puddled on the ground. slowly, she regains her mind and forms a sentence, "you — you're not lying, right? is this megumi? FUSHIGURO megumi?"

itadori nods behind her, showing his support for her actions. megumi rolls his eyes, clearly he doesn't like the way they think he's a loser.

"yeah, yeah. when do i ever lie?"

"oh, you're right," defeated, nobara agrees. there's not a single memory in her mind where megumi lied.

itadori yuuji.

he's bent over gasping for his life. a few seconds ago, itadori ran three floors down the school just for a question. it's an important question and they — gojo and utahime — will answer.

"guys, what do you do when you want to buy someone a gift but that someone is your girlfriend but you're not sure if she'll like it but—"

gojo drops his self-made paper plane, turns his head to the boy and begins, "pause right there yuuji. repeat that again."

slightly confused, itadori repeats himself from the beginning, "what do you do when you—"

yet again, gojo cuts him off, "NOT that part. the one after."

confused, he repeats again, "but that someone is your girlfriend but—"

gojo claps his hands together, sitting up straight and pointing a finger directly at itadori. "THERE — THAT PART."

utahime rubs her forehead, trying to calm down an incoming headache at the elder's childish behaviour. she sighs loudly, shooting a glare at gojo before turning to itadori with a small smile. "what gift do you have in mind?"

itadori, not remembering the gifts he had in mind, starts counting on his fingers. he knows he thought of roughly five gifts, but the question is what were the five gifts.

"uh, i think i had a five-hundred-dollar gift card in mind? don't remember the price but it's for makeup, skincare, and all that stuff!!" he replies, scratching the back of his head in slight embarrassment.

"that's a bit expensive. are you sure you'd want to buy it? if it comes from you i'm sure she'll love it either way," utahime attempts to comfort him. she's a tad bit concerned at the price but hey, love is priceless.

"mhm! it's our anniversary soon, too," itadori nods, feeling his nerves calm a little.

gojo, however, needs to put his input or he'll go crazy. slapping both palms on his thigh, he changes the tone of his voice to a serious one, "son, let me introduce you on the top ten ways to make a woman happy with money."

"gojo, no. don't."

nanami kento.

a true businessman has now ended his working hours. at 7:30 p.m on the dot, he's now in his office preparing himself for his activities at 8:00 p.m. unknown to him, a little pesky fly slides himself into his office. obnoxiously chewing on some lays chips, gojo questions nanami's new attire, "you look oddly handsome, nanami. you got a date?"

refusing to meet eye-to-eye with gojo, he responds to him, "i do, actually. with my woman." turning around, he still avoids eye contact with gojo. rolling his sleeves up to his elbow, nanami walks to his desk, searching for his wristwatch.

once content with his attire, nanami finally looks at gojo. his visual makes a vein pop out on nanami's forehead. crumbs all over his fingers, hair scattered everywhere, mismatching indoor shoes — just irritating.

"if you excuse me, gojo, i have somewhere to be. exit yourself," gesturing to the door, nanami expects gojo to leave and so he does. just one step away from being out of nanami's office, gojo turns around. something's off.

"yeah yeah, go on with your woman — wait," he begins, eyebrows raised in suspicion. "you have a woman? like, seriously?"

paying no heed to the fly, nanami makes his way to phone you a call. once you answered, he brings the phone to his ear, "i'll be there to pick you up in ten-minutes, okay? ... yeah, i love you too."

"NO WAY," louder than sirens, gojo gasps at the confession and return of love. his once-crumbled fingers now cover his mouth.

nanami, already annoyed by his presence, puts his finger on his lip, motioning to gojo that he needs to shut up.

#+ rizsu: jujutsu kaisen.#jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #megumi fushiguro x reader #megumi fushiguro fluff #itadori x reader #itadori yuuji x reader #itadori fluff #nanami x reader #nanami kento x reader #nanami kento fluff #jjk fluff #jjk drabbles #jjk x you #jjk x fem!reader

2K notes · View notes

randomness-is-my-order · 4 months

Text

been seeing alot of discourse ensuing in the fandom about the pjo tv show and here’s the thing: there is alot of impetus about what the show didn’t get right but isn’t it absolutely amazing how much the show did get right????

yes, gabe is a bit different. yes, annabeth didn’t show percy around camp. yes, grover snitched on percy. yes, ms. dodds transforming could be a bit underwhleming.

BUT

we also have this: percy being an actual kid with sarcasm and sadness and anger and trauma. he’s not one-note. he’s just trying his best and his inner conflict is so painfully and wonderfully portrayed. grover being a nervous wreck at times but also sweet and earnest and guilt-ridden and brave in his own way. annabeth being a little girl wise beyond her years, with a stoicism that feels like something she was forced to practice and the spark of a dream driving her actions. luke being a likeable teenager with actual empathy towards percy which will drive home his fall from grace that much deeper.

chiron being a mentor figure who still makes questionable choices and can’t always say the words percy wants to hear, despite his best intentions. mr. d being an asshole who is still likeable, if only for his humor. sally jackson being a fierce mother with both tenderness and strength, who isn’t perfect but might as well be in percy’s eyes. clarisse being the unpleasant bully that she is, with all the rage and pettiness that she held within when we were first introduced to her yet with the promise of something more.

camp halfblood’s set and the cinematography deserve their own medals. they’re quite literally perfect.

soooo, where i’m getting at is this:

i don’t believe that all criticism pointing out inconsistencies with the books is just nitpicking. alot of it is well thought out and politely presented, too, and i think it’s important to point it out so the showrunners know where they went wrong and can try and rectify those errors–however small or big–in the next season. at the same time, undermining the entire show, discounting all the efforts made to remain faithful to the source material just because they strayed from a storyline that didn’t land as well as it could have–that’s a bit overblown, yes?

like it is an adaptation, not a word-by-word recreation from page to screen. of course, there will be changes because some things in a book don’t always translate well in a story told on the screen. for me, most changes aim to enhance rick’s work, not undermine it or take away from it in some misguided attempt to appeal to the larger audience like the movies did.

at the end of the day, it is very important to recognise the 90% of the show that depicted our beloved scenes from the book as faithfully as possible instead of constantly criticising the 10% of it that changed directions for a certain end goal that serves the screenwriting for a tv show. there can be balance of both praise and criticism and i’m very much in support of people pointing out genuine problems with the storytelling of the show but these conversations should also try and acknowledge the myriad of aspects in which the show excelled. like just the fact that i get to see so much of my imagination take form in front of my eyes, through a screen, with so much of the same authenticity that the pjo books are inlaid with–that’s genuinely mind-boggling to me.

#pjo tv spoilers #pjo tv series #pjo tv show #pjo series #pjo fandom #pjo #percy pjo #percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson #percy and annabeth #walker scobell #leah jeffries

868 notes · View notes

dcxdpdabbles · 8 months

Text

Passion for Fashion Part 3

Danny nervously twirls his thumbs as Dan paces before him, mumbling insults to the Waynes under his breath. They were supposed to go third in the walkway line, as it was supposed to be in alphabetical order, but just as the computation was going to begin, a disaster struck.

Tim Drake-Wayne had been kidnapped. In broad daylight, as the teenage CO-CEO was getting out of his limo, a group of men broke through the crowd, swinging guns around and demanding everyone to get on the ground and give them their valuables.

Of course, there were security who attempted to gain control of the situation, but it seemed that three of their newest hires were traitors and in on the heist. A shoot-out was ensured.

Drake-Wayne had been taken in the chaos, and Bruce Wayne had passed out from worry. He and the rest of his kids were on their way to a hospital- a secret location to deter further kidnappings of the remaining Waynes- and the first runway of the competition was canceled.

Danny hadn't seen anything from the model changing room, but Dan had forgotten his make-up bag in the front entry and had gone back for it while Danny changed. He had been front and center when the whole thing went down.

"Who just lets themselves get taken like that!?" Dan huffs, practically spitting fire. According to the ghost, Tim Drake-Wayne's actions were an act, and the teenager had been able to get away from his kidnappers but didn't.

Dan found his nonaction insulting since it paused his fashion show.

"Um, look around you? Situation awareness." Danny tells him, gesturing to the cage they had been shoved into. While the people had been preoccupied with Tim Drake-Wayne's kidnapping, a second group of men had gone in through the backdoor and taken all the models.

Danny had thought it was the staff moving them until he noticed a few people crying as they were placed into vans. In his defense, most people aren't used to seeing someone armed like he is, so the gun-waving hadn't tipped him off.

Dan had joined him later when he followed the coordinator- another traitor- to the vans, and his counterpart had only gotten upset when they took his make-up bag.

"Please, this is just metal." Dan rolls his eyes, bending the bars and straightening them out again to prove his point. Danny doesn't mention the electric buzz the bars release, as neither is really affected by the shock. It's more of an annoying light show. "Sides, it's not like we're human. Not like them."

He tilts his chin to where other models sob in their cages below. They are all waiting for their new owners to pick them up. At least, that's what Danny was able to gather from the men's taunts. They were taken by human traffickers, who had buyers look at the competition lineup and pick which model they wanted before the actual kidnapping.

Danny and Dan were in such high demand they would be sold at an auction that would take place while the rest of their pals kept the Bats busy. Danny had no idea who the Bats were or why they would save them instead of the police.

"Tell the whole world why don't you?" Danny hisses, twirling his thumbs more " If they found out what we are we could be turned over to this world version of the Guys In White."

"Oh no, I'm shaking in my human boots." Dan rolls his eyes. He resumes his pacing. "If the Waynes had taken this seriously, we could have been seeing the results of the judge's panel already."

"Dan, this is a little more important than your fashion Obsession."

"Excuse you, my Obsession is a medical condition," Dan huffs, sliding down the cage bars, and for a brief second, his hair flickered to white before it settled back into black. A flash of pain crosses his face. "My core is killing me."

Danny winces. "Right, sorry, that was insensitive. How about I steal you some paper and pens so you can design a ball gown?"

"I like that."

Danny turns to the bars, bending them open and closing them behind him. He carefully makes his way across the giant shipping crates, to an office at the top right corner.

They are at the docks, hidden somewhere in a warehouse among many crates that will be shipped out, and Danny is honestly a little offended they have yet to be found. Sure, the kidnappers had driven through the sewers on a strangely built road that led them here, but surely someone would have noticed the apparent fact the van disappeared at a fake dead alley?

Weren't there cameras in almost every corner of the city? Dan had warned Danny about them while doing his Obsession-driven research, and both agreed not to Go Ghost while in public due to them.

Now, they could escape, but Danny wasn't kidding about the Guys in White or whatever their equivalent was here. He would rather know what level of competence they have before he makes any rash moves.

Danny also wants to see his fellow models' buyers, and he would like to have a word with them. His ghost Obsession may not be protection- much to the shock of many- but Danny has always had a moral compass that pointed to protecting others around him.

Dan knew and respected this about him, so his counterpart was willing to sit and wait for the buyers. He's just a little angsty since it disrupted his obsession.

Danny grimly peeks into the office window when he sees the coordinator talking on a phone. There doesn't seem to be anyone else around, so he carefully opens the door and creeps up behind the man.

"-If you ever want to see your son again," The man is saying, smirking. Danny can't see it due to the man facing away from him, but he can hear it in his voice.

On the desk is a laptop that repeats what he said only, the sound sounds robotic and unrecognizable. Is that a voice changer? "I suggest you ask Batman to find your boy before it's too late."

Batman? The man they were supposed to help save his humanity?

Danny knows it's a risk, but this is too much of a chance to pass up. He carefully picks up the office chair and brings it down hard on the disgusting man's head. The coordination lets out a chocked grunt of pain, but he's out like a light when he hits the ground. His phone flies across the floor, and a voice is heard speaking urgently.

Danny ties the man to the bolted-down desk using zip ties- the same ones they had used on him and the rest earlier that day, before picking up the phone.

"Hello? Is this Batman?" Danny asks, jumping slightly when the laptop repeats him in a creepy robotic voice. "Wait hold on, I think I can get rid of this voice thingy."

"...what?" A man asks over the phone, but Danny pays him no mind as he tries to click some boxes.

"Hello, testing one two three," Danny says, wincing when the voice changer makes him sound high and unnaturally squeaky. He sounds like he's trying to audition for Alvin and the Chipmunks. "Hello? Hello? Wait, I think I got it."

"Who are you? Where is Tim?" The man asks, and Danny almost rolls his eyes. He hates it when someone interrupts him while he's working with tech.

"Wait-there it is! Can you hear me alright? Do I sound normal?"

"....I can hear you."

"Awesome! Are you Batman, and if so, have you considered the importance of mental health activities? Like hugging your kids once a day? That really boosts your serotonin and dopamine levels." Danny asks, attempting to channel Jazz as much as he can. There is muffled sound across the phone line, like someone is attempting to smother a laugh.

"No, this is Bruce Wayne." Mr. Wayne says after a moment pause, "You have my son?"

"Oh," Danny tries not to sound as disappointed as he feels, but he may have failed. "I'm sorry, Mr. Wayne I don't think your son is here. I think they were using him to distract you and the police of the missing models."

There is a strange lake of sound on the other line before Mr. Wayne responds. "Can you tell me who I am speaking to?"

"Danny Fenton. I was one of the models that was taken." Danny says, then he realizes the cops must be listening in because that always happens in movies; he lowers his voice and tries to sound in shock. "I think we're in a warehouse? I'm not sure, but I was in a cage when I woke up. They said they're going to sell us. I escaped, but there were guards everywhere, so I tried hiding in the office and heard the man you were speaking to come in. I hit him with a chair."

"Mr.Fenton," A new man says suddenly, "I know this is a terrifying situation, and I-"

"Are you Batman?"

"....No, son, I'm Commissioner Gordon"

"Oh."

"Do you want to speak to Batman?"

"Yes."

"Can I ask why?"

"I need to tell him to hug his kids."

Danny waits a few seconds for a response, but he hears nothing, not even the wind. They must have muted themselves. He leans on the desk, mindful to give the kidnapper a solid kick to make sure he's still out, and glancing over to the window to make sure there aren't any guards coming his way.

"Mr. Fenton, did they give you anything strange?" Commissioner Gordon asks

Danny thinks for a moment before humming. "They gave all of us something in a needle. I don't know what it was, but it felt funny. My brother has been acting weird since he got it."

"Okay, you're doing good. " Commissioner Gordon sounds like he is frowning but the words cause something in Danny's core to pur."Okay, son, everything is going to be alright. I need you to do something for me. Every Gotham warehouse has a serial number; you can find it in the main office on the power box. Do you see the box?"

Danny glances around until he sees the small little green box. He hurries over to it, throwing the door open. "I found it."

"Good. Can you read me the number?"

Danny reads them off as quickly as he can. Once all ten digits are within the police's hands he asks again. "Do you know if Batman partakes in his kid's interests?"

"I can ask him for you."

"Would you? That would be great. It's important to let people know you care about them by showing an interest in what they are passionate about. My brother Dan really likes making clothes, and even though I don't think I can model, I do it for him, you know?"

"You're a good brother."

"Thank you.....I'm tired Mr. Gordon." Danny says suddenly eyelids becoming heavy. He slides down the wall a lot like Dan did before.

"I'm sorry to hear that but I need you to keep talking to me, Mr. Fenton."

"Batman should tell his kids he loves them. His love language may be an act of service, but Nightwings' is words of affirmation. Nightwing needs to be told he's loved."

"Mr. Fenton! Stay awake for me! Mr.Fenton!" Danny hears someone yelling, but his core is purring even more now, and the sound is luring him to sleep. Suddenly he thinks of his counterpart in the cage waiting for his paper and pen.

"I have to go. I promised Dan I would get him some stuff so he could design some clothes. Bye-Bye."

"No! Don't hang up-!"

Danny drops the cell phone after pressing the end call button and ignores it when it rings again. He hurries over to the desk, looking for paper, but finds the table lacking. Thankfully, an open suitcase has sheets that he borrowed and a few pens.

He takes them all and runs back over the crates to where Dan is. Once he arrives, he notices many models are no longer distressed. All of them are smiling with a dazed look, and a few are even giggling. He waves at a few as he hurries back to his cage.

Dan is there, muttering under his breath and twisting his fingers in the air as if he were drawing in the sky. Danny bends the bars and holds up his prize. "I got the stuff!"

"Thank the ancients! I was never going to finish Mr. Hot scales suit without it!" Dan cheers, turning one of the sheets over to a clean side. He throws his whole body on the ground, using the smooth surface to start his ball gown.

Danny watches him for a moment before his purring core is too much. Dan reaches out to grip his leg, enclosing it in his warm palm and that's all Danny needs before he's fast asleep.

Dan continues to draw for a few more minutes before he, too, is overcome with sleep. Neither notices Red Hood or Robin bursting into the warehouse, guns and swords blazing, just as the buyers arrive. They or any of the models are unaware of the smackdown that happens until everyone involved with the scheme is behind bars.

Robin finds their cage, stepping through the bent bars and pausing at the sheets of paper scattered across the slumbering teenagers. He flips one incredibly designed ballgown only to have his eyes widen at what's written down.

"Robin to Batman," he says, staring at the paper and pressing his communicator. "I have a complete list of everyone who was buying today and past buyers. We can dismantle an entire ring with this."

"Good work, Robin."

"It wasn't I who found it. It was the Fentons."

".....Are they hurt?"

"Drugged but otherwise unharmed."

"Good."

There is a pause before Nightwing speaks up "Tell me you love me B."

"No"

Danny Fenton's eyes briefly open to stare into a surprised Robin's eyes. "Tell him Batman his humanity is at risk. Says the Ghost King."

"They gave him the good shit," Spolior laughs, having heard Fenton through the coms.

Elsewhere, Tim Drake-Wayne stares at Killer Croc aka Waylon Jones who is replaying the video of Dan Fenton catcalling Waylon from his cage right after the fashion designer was dosed with high levels of morphine.

"Hey Papi, why don't you come up here and let me dress you up in the proper wrapping for a walking gift like you?"

"Hey...hey are you from the EverBurning tribe? Cause those are the hotest legs and tail I have ever seen!"

"Mr.Hot Scales, I promise Danny is the only ally of FarFrozen. I'm team EverBurning all the way! Kiss me!"

"What the actual fuck?" Tim asks, and Waylon nods.

"I have no idea, kid. The first time any of my merchandise flirts with me."

#dcxdpdabbles #dc x dp crossover #Passion for Fashion #Part 3 #tw: human trafficking #tw: drugs #Danny and Dan were somewhat able to fight off the drug #Dan was in his right mind when he was catcalling #Look Dan is more ghost then human and thus finds nonhumans hot #Danny's obsession was hinted. Can you spot it?#The twins got in situation #Bruce is worried about them

2K notes · View notes

becausegoodheroesdeservekidneys · 23 days

Note

if it makes you feel better, a mature student on my course (history) used chatgpt to write an essay (on a real historical event) and handed it in (to a history professor who specialises in the real historical event) and chatgpt got the event entirely wrong. the student went to every lecture and seminar. i don't really know what the thought process was. they showed me their exact work process though (closed wikipedia next to me, put the essay q into chatgpt, and handed it in).

yay university!

Yeah, the very first student I ever caught doing this was last year. He was supposed to write a management plan for a site of his choosing, and went for the site of the old Dunvant Brickworks, now a flourishing reclaimed nature reserve with a brick dust problem.

And his Site Background section was entirely made up. Just fully fictionalised. It claimed there was now a museum and visitor centre onsite (there is not), that the brickworks were named after the family that founded them (they were named after the nearby village which comes from the Welsh Dwfn + Nant), and that the site has won awards for conservation (it has not) and now runs classes on heritage brickmaking (it does not.) Oh, and that the original brickworks had pioneered a brand new brickmaking techniques and was known during the Industrial Revolution for it's progressive workers' rights. Lol.

Anyway the first marker used to be a taxi driver in Swansea, and went "Hang on, there's no museum and visitor's centre -" and then passed it to me. Three hours later, we had proven that six of the fifteen references (already, far too few references for a MASTERS STUDENT) were fake. Two of those fake ones were then heavily used throughout the whole piece to prove everything from the history of the site (lies) to the hydrologic grid (fake) and the presence of signal crayfish in the streams (no).

It was, as they say, a shit show. And again, before I got involved and hit the ChatGPT alarm, the original second marker had looked it over and failed it - not because she knew it was AI, but because it was an utterly shit piece of work.

(That particularly story ended, btw, with that student being given leniency on mental health grounds, so he was allowed to try to resubmit with a new attempt. He was advised to return to the site, reassess it properly, then write up a new piece.

The day before his new submission date, his study support called me and asked for a meeting between the three of us, because the study support is from an IT background and so didn't have the subject knowledge to support him. We had a three way Teams call. During that call, me and the study support - hereafter referred to as Gareth to spare me typing that - both had microphones on, cameras on, and were freely talking. Student had his camera and microphone off.

First question from Gareth: "So, we have the site's real management plan, but it's 20 years out of date. Is this going to be a problem?"

Me: "No, not at all. In the industry, management plans are often out of date. Just factor that into yours - if it was written 20 years ago, you'll probably need to update the surveys to re-establish the current baseline, so what are you going to say needs to be surveyed and when. Does that make sense, Student?"

And there was, I shit you not, a SEVEN SECOND PAUSE, and then he unmuted himself and went "Sorry, what was that? I was sending a text."

And that happened a further three times over the course of that 40-minute meeting. A meeting he had requested the eve of his second chance because he still hadn't done it. A meeting he visibly did not think he had to listen in, or participate in, and thought he could get Gareth to listen to instead.

And then he submitted the new piece, and the only changes were:

He had entirely removed the site background section. It had not been replaced.

He had added in approximately twelve new in-text citations, none of which he'd added to the reference list for us to actually trace.

Which meant he was still heavily relying on the two fake references, and elsewhere in the piece, still had a paragraph that mentioned the museum and visitors centre; and THAT meant that he submitted, for a second time, work containing AI-generated content.

He was withdrawn from the course.)

#asks #the professional world of careers and tasks

492 notes · View notes

sailorholly · 1 month

Text

Between Us Pt. 2

Summary: You and Spencer had a casual relationship. A misunderstanding ruins it all.

Pairing: Spencer Reid × F. BAU Reader

Warnings: Friends with benefits. Angst.

See My Masterlist Here

Part One

Tonight was the night you were going to confess your feelings to Spencer. You couldn’t keep it to yourself anymore, it was too painful. You were worried you would lose him when you told him, but you thought there was a good chance he felt the same.

You spent all afternoon cooking his favorite foods, planning for a night of cuddling and love making after you got the confession out of the way. When you were finished getting dressed, Spencer knocked on your door.

You invited him in, taking your seats at the table. You ate in silence, your nerves making your stomach hurt. “I have to tell you-“ “We should talk.” You spoke over each other. You smile, giggling with excitement. Spencer wanted to talk too. This is going so well.

“You go first.” You prompt him, smiling wide at him. “These past six months have been so fun. But I think our time together should come to an end.” You try to swallow the lump in your throat, willing yourself not to cry.

“I want to keep it professional at work. We can still be friends, we will just take the sex out of it.” He explains, studying your face. All you can do is nod as he rattles on about how the statistics of such a relationship show that the longer you did it, the harder it would be to end it.

You used to love hearing him spout a million facts about whatever topic he was talking about. But not tonight. “So what did you want to tell me?” He asks, serving himself more food. “Um, I was just going to tell you that book I ordered you came this morning. I thought you would be excited.” You rise from the table, retrieving the thick book from the counter and bringing it to Spencer.

“Thanks.” His smile breaks your heart. You can feel that your attempts to keep the tears at bay are failing. “Why don’t you take the food with you? I’m suddenly not feeling well.” You tell him, as you turn your back to get the lids for the bowls. You hand them to him, turning your back as the tears start to fall. “I’m going to lay down. Lock the door behind you.”

If he thought your sudden illness had anything to do with him, he didn’t act like it. Spencer was right about nothing changing. He was the exact same as he had always been with you, just without the sex.

Spencer was heartbroken. He didn’t want to end his sexual relationship with you. But he couldn’t put himself through the pain anymore. He spent all of his spare time with you. He couldn’t keep you off his mind. Things had changed a few months ago. He had bent the rules he set in place so he wouldn’t fall for you.

You had started spending the night and cuddling. Spencer had fallen fast and hard. But he couldn’t go through every day knowing you didn’t feel the same. So he had to end it, as painful as it was for him. It was no secret that you had been hooking up. But he didn’t want to talk about it with anyone.

Until two weeks after he called it off, he was so upset, he broke down and talked to Derek. He wanted to know all the details, but Spencer only told him the important information. “I have an easy fix for you, pretty boy.” Morgan smirked at him. Spencer leaned in, excited there was a solution.

“You know what they say, if you want to get over someone, get under someone else. You just have to sleep with someone and she will be the last thing you’re thinking of. Works for me every time.” Spencer cleared his throat. “Easy for you to say. I’m lucky she agreed to sleep with me. I’ll never find someone else so quickly, and I’m not sure I would want to.”

“I know someone who has been into you since she started here.” Derek boasts, nodding his head to the blonde at the coffee pot talking to Rossi. “Ashley?” Spencer squeaked, while Derek laughed.

Ashley Seaver was one coworker you could not get used to. She was impulsive, always throwing herself into trouble. You couldn’t stand her. Not only for how she acted on the field, but for how she looked at Spencer. She wanted him, and she didn’t care who knew it. She was all over him from the second she started working at the BAU.

She even knew that you and Spencer were hooking up, but she didn’t care. She used every opportunity to touch him or say something flirty, making eye contact with you the whole time she did it. Luckily, Spencer was oblivious. When you mentioned how she hung all over him, he said he didn’t even notice. He was too busy thinking about the case or the thing you did with your tongue the night before.

So you stopped being jealous. It wasn’t like you had any right to be. You and Spencer were just hooking up. If he wasn’t interested in her, then you would just let it go. The last time she tried anything had been a month ago. You were sick and she invited Spencer to go eat after work.

Spencer being the nice guy he is, accepted her offer. While they were out, he talked about you the whole time. She had told him to stop talking about you, that she was right there and she wanted whatever he was willing to give. He politely turned her down, but she was furious. She kept her distance from both of you since then.

That’s why you were confused when you heard her squealing and giggling, saying Spencer’s name as loudly as she could. You looked up from your mountainous stack of paperwork that you came in early to work on to see Spencer hugging her.

There was a vase of roses on her desk. “I can’t believe you got these for me! What a surprise! I knew you would come around!” She almost yelled, looking directly at you. Spencer took her hand in his, “I wanted to get you something before our date tonight, but I wasn’t sure I would have time to get them after work.” He explained shyly looking at her.

That little shit! Was he actually blushing? Was he seriously going on a date with Ashley tonight? And what is with the roses? He never once got you flowers. Did he call things off with you to date her? Seeing them together made you feel sick. Actually, the temperature felt like it rose a hundred degrees. You needed to get up now. You ran to the bathroom making it just in time to throw up.