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scudslut · 3 months

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Sins and Honey Flavored Sweetness

daryl x fem!reader

wordcount: 4.7k

warnings: 18+, MDNI, smut under the cut, perv!daryl (not really, he just has a lil crush), male masturbation, unprotected p-in-v, oral f!receiving, mutual pining

a/n: i have never written something so descriptive ohmygod. do be warned lol, hugs and kisses byeee <33

Daryl knew there were unspoken boundaries when it came to you.

A thin line of loose salt, that whispered to him. Beckoned him huskily to dust his fingers through and have a taste, but daunting enough for him to keep his soles rooted in the dirt, salivating from a distance.

It wasn’t because you were already spoken for in any way; if anything, you kept your romantic interests simmering farther on the back burner than he did, which spoke volumes in itself. Or because you were younger than him, a couple of years wasn’t anything to turn a nose up over, especially nowadays.

It was, however, the place you held amongst your people. You were like bright, shiny gold within the group, dared not to be corrupted or led astray. The heart that kept everyone’s beating, even in the darkest of times, soothing hope into the atmosphere with your infectious smile.

Oh, and you were Rick's younger sister... which he hated to admit, only tempted him more. And he wasn’t quite sure as to why.

He’d mulled it over too many times to count, noting everything about you that allured him so intensely.

He liked the contrast between you two; like sun rays peeking through the clouds after a mid-summer storm. You were soft, fresh as clean linen and he was dark, brooding. He often fantasized about taking that sweet innocent nature of yours and painting it with his essence. He knew it was wrong and constantly shamed himself for having such perverted thoughts about his best friend's sister. But, god, how could he not?

Not when you pranced around him daily, teasing him with your velvety, feminine voice and kind touches. Touches that sent brisk shivers down his spine, sure to leave him breathless and bothered — another thing he secretly liked. You were addictive in that sense, he’d distance himself the minute he felt the familiar rush coursing through his veins and then crave it immediately once it was gone. A drug he couldn’t help but relapse from.

And it didn’t help that you were always so keen to assist him, doting on his every injury or problem with such gentle attentiveness and sincerity. That might be what he liked the most. It was fascinating how pure you remained in a world so plagued, always ready to nurture. It soothed a deep, restless, and scarred part of him, finding solace in it.

He'd come to learn you were like that with everyone though. So, he found himself grappling with things to deter your attention his way, playing dumb and clumsy just to have your sweet scent fill the nearby air. He felt like a horny teenager with a hopeless crush. It was absolutely ridiculous and yet, here he was once again, feet dangling off your kitchen counter as you searched the cabinets for some aspirin to aid in his 'headache'.

It wasn't a complete lie per se - his sensitivity to light gave him troubles quite often but, whether it was enough to complain about or not, could be debated.

Nonetheless, he sat for you patiently, listening to your quiet humming as you searched about. He loved when you did that, singing your soft melodies under your breath mindlessly. It was such a girly thing to do, but it was comforting in a way, an airy blanket warming the silence.

"Ah, here it is!" drew him out of his thoughts, and he cast a glance at your bright smile of accomplishment. You popped the cap open swiftly, shaking out 2 little white pills, and handed them over with a glass of water.

“Let me know if you need any more. They should kick in soon, but I know how tough migraines can be,” you soothed, your sympathy never faltering. He bowed his head quickly, not wanting you to see the flash of guilt that surely crossed it. "Thanks," he mumbled as he tossed his head back, swallowing them both with a shivered grimace.

Wiping the water droplets from his chapped lips, his eyes found yours again and noticed a small smirk hidden in your features. “What?”

You let out a chuckle, reaching for the glass he held to wash, “Oh nothin’... just don’t think I’ve seen you cringe like that before, is all.”

His brows furrowed at your statement, “So?” he questioned further.

“Walkers, blood, rotting flesh… never. But an itty bitty pill?” Your laugh grew louder, finding the situation even more amusing as you explained it to him. “Whatever,” he scoffed, hopping off the counter with a smirk. He knew you would be expecting him to leave after that, you had helped him with his ‘issue of the day’ and there was no reason to linger any further. But he did.

Daryl scanned your frame as you washed the few dishes that were in the sink, chewing on his thumb habitually. You wore a white, long-sleeve shirt with a faded band logo printed on the front and some beaten-up blue jeans that seemed to cup your ass perfectly.

His mind wandered before he could stop it, imagining how soft and warm your skin must be underneath all those clothes. How soft and warm your hands would be wrapped around him, or better yet, your pretty lips taking him deep with a moan. He felt his own jeans tighten slightly and quickly diverted his gaze to the floor, clearing his throat as if it would erase those thoughts from his brain.

“Something else you need, Daryl?” You glanced over your shoulder, wrists deep in soapy water.

“Nah, uh, thanks. I’ll see ya later,” he said and beelined for the door praying to god you didn’t see his flushed face and half-hard cock poking through his pants. He was so fucked. Couldn’t even look at you anymore without sprouting boners and picturing you on them, milking him greedily.

He rushed down the porch and across the lawn, bursting into his shared house with Carol just next door. He didn’t even glance toward the kitchen to see if his friend was home, desperate for a cold shower to level him out. The house was dead quiet anyway, leading him to assume Carol was out for the day.

"Such a fuckin idiot," he cursed himself under his breath as he made his way down the stairs to his room. You probably knew honestly. Could tell how pathetically bothered you got him, and just put on a friendly face to keep from embarrassing him.

He left the bathroom door open in his distress and hastily shed his clothing, stepping into the tepid water. Immediate relief flooded his senses, feeling the cool stream wash away the sweat and grime the day had caked on. Pouring some homemade soap he was given into his hand, he scrubbed at his skin, determined to rid himself of your previous interaction along with the dirty thoughts that plagued his mind. He shouldn’t be thinking about you that way, it just wasn’t in the cards.

For starters, you would have to want him too, (which he knew would never happen), and even if you did, how the ever living fuck would he explain that to Rick?

‘Oh hey Rick, I have a massive hard-on for yer sister, you okay with that?’ Fuck no. Just thinking about that conversation had him cringing in awkwardness and he shut the idea down instantly.

But there you were still, invading his thoughts with your dreamy laugh and perky attitude. Why did you have to be such a goddamn tease?

He leaned forward, resting his hands on the wall trying to regain some composure. He gulped down deep breaths of moist air, willing his body to calm itself down, but it was fruitless. The image of your body, pushed up against the wall under his hands, wet and flushed, bubbled to the surface. He groaned. Daryl knew what he had to do. It wasn’t the first time he had gotten off thinking about you, and he damn well knew it wasn’t gonna be the last, but it still felt wrong each time, pumping his cock when you were just next door. His body craved the relief though, relief only indulgence could satisfy.

He hissed as he dragged his fingers along his shaft, gripping at the base and beginning to pump slowly. He was painfully hard at this point, each squeeze raking shivers over his damp skin while he choked out quiet moans. With his opposite hand, he flicked the water to a warmer setting, pitifully hoping the heat and steam would resemble something close to your body against his. God, if only you were here.

He sped up, swiping his thumb over his sensitive tip with each pass, sending jolts throughout his body. “Oh, fuck,” he groaned deep and husky, not a care for the noise filling the empty house.

You were there, clear as day in his mind, moaning along with him as he pounded into you, cunt gripping him like a vice. Your breath was hot and pitchy against his ear as you begged him to fuck you harder, to go faster, to cum deep inside you. His cock twitched at that, he was already so close.

“Fuck, y/n, baby,” he whined, humping erratically into his long-forgotten hand. The muscles in his stomach quivered in bliss as he stroked himself, lost in his detailed imagination. You were cumming, trembling around him in languid spasms with his seed spilling out of you, and Daryl was over the edge, tossing his head back moaning your name as he unloaded, letting the steamy water wash it away.

It took him a few minutes to recover, catching his breath slowly and trying to avoid the guilt that would soon be settling in. What would you think of him if you knew what he did behind muffled walls? How he thought of you in such dirty ways, when you’d only ever see him as a dear friend. He wondered what you might be doing now. Traipsing around your cozy home, oblivious to his rapid, lustful heart meters away.

The water was beginning to run frigid and he let out a defeated sigh. Absentmindedly, he reached past the curtain for a towel and stepped out, drying his hair off roughly and then wrapping the towel around his waist, turning to the bedroom for fresh clothes and much-needed sleep. His mind ached to be thoughtless, consumed by the abyss of unconsciousness.

He should have known the world stopped playing fair long ago.

In a single moment, his heart stopped and his stomach dropped to the fucking depths of hell.

There you stood, feet frozen to the floor with his crossbow in hand, like he willed you into existence. He stuttered, his mouth opening and closing like a blubbering fish. He was sure his eyes were the size of saucers, he could feel them ready to pop out of his skull and run away. There was no fucking way this was happening.

Several beats passed. The silence deafening between you both and for a moment, he honestly debated stepping back into the shower. Pretend you were a figment of his tortured imagination and just hope you’d go away. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d seen ghosts.

“You uh- you forgot your crossbow when you rushed out today,” you finally broke the silence, solidifying your genuine presence. He glanced down to the bow and then back at you, lost for words. Did you hear him? He moaned your goddamn name, quite a few minutes ago though… had you been standing there long? Were you angry?

His racing thoughts were interrupted when you stepped towards him, leaning the bow against the doorframe and moving closer. Instinctively, he took a step back, “Thanks,” he replied shakily, but you kept moving closer. He noticed your gaze then. It wasn’t on his face, but on his abdomen, at the hem of the damp towel hanging off of him. Your eyes had a gleam to them. Something dark and lustful.

No. Surely, he was reading you wrong.

“Daryl,” you spoke, and he audibly gulped, nervousness and absolute embarrassment flooding his system, “is there something you need to tell me?”

He didn’t answer you, instead deciding to burn a hole into the floor with his shame. He couldn’t look at you. You knew. You had heard him and were teasing him about it and here he was, a coward who couldn’t even admit to it. And you had every single right. He crossed that salty line years ago, with his first sinful thought about you. Feasted on it, deluding himself into thinking all was okay as long as his actions didn’t physically involve you.

He barely registered your advances when he finally raised his head. You were so close he could feel the heat of your breath against his burning skin, the luscious scent of vanilla and pine filling the air.

“Can I see?” you asked quietly.

He nearly choked on his own spit. Your hand was skimming along his stomach lightly, suggestively toying with the towel that covered him up. “Huh?” His mind was blank.

“Can I see you?” you repeated, and all he could do was give you a curt little nod, not entirely sure what he was agreeing to just yet, but rendered acquiesced. Your hand pulled at the fabric softly, letting it drop to the floor revealing his manhood to your hungry eyes. Nothing was making any sense. Surely, you did not feel this way too. Surely.

There were those whispers again. He shouldn't have let you do that. He should be recoiling, shielding himself from your gaze but he was statuesque, like you had drank the life out of him with one simple look.

"Were you thinking about me touching you?" Like you had to even ask. The answer was written in plain sight, right there on his forehead and in his bashful eyes.

"M'sorry, I-" he had no clue how to even begin this kind of apology, remorse coursing through his veins rapidly. The dots weren’t connecting, not yet. "I know it's wrong, I shouldn't have-,”

And then he felt you, pressing your lips against his softly — timidly as gentle hands feathered across his waist, coaxing him into you. Your kiss was buttery, lips so smooth and sweet he wanted to drown in them. You tasted like fresh honey and vanilla ice cream, hints of minty toothpaste caught on your tongue. It was intoxicating to say the least, swarming his brain with a muted buzz and he whimpered, much to his surprise, melting into your touch quicker than he would like to admit.

“Y/n, y/n, nah we can’t,” he heard himself say as he came to his senses slowly, but he wasn’t pushing you away. Why wasn’t he pushing you away? You couldn’t, right?

“Please,” you whispered against him, low and sultry. Who was he to deny you? God Daryl, get a grip.

“Y/n, no,” he repeated, allowing his tone to take some authority even if that was the last thing he truly wanted. You stepped back from him then, a hurt expression painting your features and he felt his heart squeeze. “Why?”

His brain was scattered. This felt like a nightmare; another cruel joke sent his way to haunt him for the rest of his life. There just always had to be a price, didn't there?

"He doesn't mind, you know?" you whispered and his eyes were on yours instantly. You traced soft shapes across his stomach, sending those shivers down his spine and effectively turning him into putty.

"What’re ya talkin' about?" He needed to regain his composure, he could barely breathe with you this close, eyes raking his naked frame with desire.

"Rick... you and me. He doesn't care," you stated, "thinks it's cute actually... my crush on you."

Your crush on him?

"He trusts you, Daryl, with everything. You're pretty much the only person he would want me to be with." He hadn't thought of it that way, only ever assumed voicing his attraction to you would result in his head on a platter, or his dick… or both.

You began peppering his neck with small kisses, trailing them down his chest and over his puffy nipples. He hissed when you nipped at one, licking over it after, soothing the burn. "Ya sure?"

You nodded.

"Ya sure ya want me?" he asked dubiously. His question was answered when you grabbed his hand gently, guiding it inside your cotton underwear, letting his calloused fingers trace your soaked folds. He could have cum then and there, spreading your slick up and down between his fingers like it was liquid gold. Fuck me.

"This all fer me?" he panted, succumbed to a state of disbelief at your evident arousal. You were so wet around his fingers, pulsing and bucking slightly with each feathered stroke. "Were ya listenin' ta me?"

Hair fell over your face as you nodded sheepishly, gazing down to watch his fingers massaging you. You bit your swollen, cherry-red lip, “Couldn’t help it, you sounded so- so good.”

Now that... that got him going. Imagining your pretty cunt dripping in your panties, listening to his gasps while he fucked himself to the thought of you. Who knew the golden girl would be so naughty?

Daryl felt his confidence build, watching you fall apart for him from such simple touches. The last wire holding him back snapped and he needed more. He had waited for this moment for so fucking long.

You whine as he retracts his hand, only to be completely shut up when he places the thick digit on his tongue, sucking greedily and sloppily. It was better than he ever could have imagined, similar to the honey of your lips but so much more sweet. He went back for seconds. And thirds. Until he was dropping to his knees, deciding to lick the goddamn plate clean.

You enveloped him in the best way possible, lifting one of your thighs over his shoulder as he tugged on your tight jeans, pulling them down enough to fit his head. His tongue pressed flat against your clothed pussy, and he sucked, tasting a mixture of your sweetness and residual laundry detergent on his tongue. His moans burned the back of his throat, desperately trying to hide them but you weren’t having it, tugging on his chocolate locks for more. “Don’t do that. I wanna hear you, honey.” Good lord. He silently thanked each lucky star of his that the house was empty before emitting a guttural groan between your thighs. If this was all he got from you, a little taste of the sugar you were made of, he would die a very happy man.

He took your clit between his lips, rolling it with his tongue. Your underwear was so wet with your arousal and his spit that it was practically see-through, just calling for him to pull aside. “Please,” you gasped.

“Hm? Wha’s that?”

He’d heard you just fine. He wanted to hear you again, and again. He was greedy and you were so damn sinful, “Please, need them off, need you.”

So, he complied, as any sane man would, shimmying them down your hips as he sucked and nibbled each inch of newly exposed skin. You watched him intently with half-lidded eyes, rocking slowly to let plush skin engulf his senses like a cloud. He felt you playing with his messy hair, taking small strands between your fingertips and moving them behind his ears to see him better. The gesture struck something deep within him. You were so kind, so focused on this moment and him, he’d be damned if he let it continue on the hard damp floor of his bathroom. No fucking way.

He stood abruptly, catching you off guard. “Bed,” he muttered, capturing your lips again in a haste. He couldn’t get enough. He didn’t want a minute to pass where he wasn’t tasting some part of you. Any part of you. Sweet, sweet honey.

You led your bodies backward till your knees hit the mattress, wasting no time as you crawled up to his pillows, taking him with you.

This moment right here, this feeling… he wanted to bottle it up. Freeze time and just stare, immerse himself into every tiny detail. It felt almost criminal to continue. You were a vision, panting and squirming beneath him; so much electricity and anticipation bouncing between your yearning bodies. Could you really want this just as much as he did? Was he truly that oblivious, all these years? Whatever that answer may be, he wasn’t gonna fuck this up. Not with you.

Your hands on his face coaxed him back to reality, molding into your touch like clay. Eager lips chased his as he pulled your shirt off and as much as he wanted to freeze time and memorize each freckle of you, the more skin each other touched the more obscene the kiss became. An unartistic jumble of spit and hands and moans and thrusts.

In all the time spent pining silently for the other, you both could care less about grace.

No, he needed to hear you. Listen to every octave of moan you had in you, all at once. He needed to know each and every spot that had you whimpering and begging, this second. If time did decide to stop at any given moment he needed to have you, be you, feel everything you had to offer, and soak in it till his skin pruned.

His lips sucked and bruised their way down to your navel, and then past, kissing up your folds with lustful intent. The sounds you made above him had him seeing stars and he wanted more. His tongue slipped past your lips, finally diving into the hive of your sweetness, rolling his tongue languidly over your clit. Your hands were everywhere around him, fisting at the sheets, the pillows, and then his hair as you desperately tried to push him closer. He didn’t mind. He’d gladly suffocate between your thighs, a death he’d welcome compared to the ones he fought from outside every day.

He dove lower, smoothing his tongue over your entrance but not delving past quite yet.

“Daryl,” you gasped above him.

Looking up between your legs, he caught a glimpse of your face tossed back in pleasure and he groaned, having to ground his hips into the mattress below to relieve some pressure. “What d’ya need, sweetheart?”

He’d give you anything. The moon if you asked for it — anything to keep those pretty sounds coming from your lips. “You, you, please you.”

“How so?”

He knew he was teasing you. He’d drawn back from your glistening slit, pressing little pecks everywhere that he could reach. Your hips, your pelvis, the little crease between your thighs and your cunt. That spot drew a deep moan from you, so he focused on it, sucking and licking till it was bright red and your hips were rolling so violently he wasn’t sure how he kept his lips on you.

“In, please,” you choked out, tugging him by his shoulders to move back up. He wasn’t done yet.

“What? Ma fingers?” he toyed further, continuing his kisses everywhere but where you wanted him. “Hm?”

He brought his thumb up to your clit, pressing lightly at first, rubbing lazy, torturous circles. His lips were on the inside of your thigh, so close to your entrance but seemingly so far. He knew you wouldn’t take much more of this, you were practically sobbing above him blubbering nonsensical curses about how much you ached.

“This pretty cunt wanna be filled, that it?”

His thumb pressed firmer.

“Uh huh,” you nodded, begging him. Oh, that sound would surely be the death of him.

He finally brought his lips to your supposedly aching entrance, delving deep with his tongue. The noises he made as he lapped on your honey were flat-out pornographic, and you writhed below him, drinking everything he was giving to you. Honestly, he didn’t know how much more he could take. He wanted to draw this out for hours, make up for every bit of lost time but seeing you like this, so needy for him had his resolve shattering by the second.

With a final peck to your weeping folds, he crawled his way up back to your face. You latched on to him instantly, sensing his give and taking absolute advantage of your moment. His hips rolled into yours slowly as your tongues danced and he hardly had to guide himself with how wet you were, his tip finding your entrance easily and slipping past. You moaned rolling your hips again and he nearly bottomed out, a long deep groan ripping out of him. If he thought your lips were buttery, lord save him.

Perching himself on his forearms, he held still, watching for any signs of discomfort. He assumed you hadn’t been with anyone in a while and he certainly knew he wasn’t small, if he’d grace himself with any sort of compliment.

Sensing nothing but pleasure as your walls pulsed around him, sucking him in further, he gave, snapping his hips harshly into you. Your moans were lewd on his lips, traveling down his throat and feeding the fire that burned in the pit of his stomach.

“Fuck, y/n, baby,” he groaned again, spiraling from the fact he was actually inside you this time. Not in his hand, pretending you were fucking shower water.

No, you were beneath him, latching onto his muscles like your life depended on it. He drove deeper, hitting a spot that had you gasping for air. He hit it again, and again, needing to feel you explode around him. He watched as your face contorted in pleasure as he pounded into you. God, you looked so pretty like this. All cock-drunk and needy.

He brought his thumb back to that spot on your clit. He needed you to cum soon, he wasn’t gonna last much longer seeing you like this and there was no way in hell he was going to finish before you. Your hips stuttered beneath him, walls squeezing around him and he knew you were close.

“Come on, pretty girl, you got it,” he whispered in your ear, sucking the lobe gently between his teeth. That must’ve broken you, because then you were cursing, spasming for him which triggered his own orgasm. Your cunt milked him, his seed spilling down your thighs exactly how he had pictured earlier and it was a fucking sight. He honestly wouldn’t be surprised if he had imagined this whole thing.

He fucked out both through the waves of release, and a bit past, dropping his head into your neck to muffle the obscene groans coming from his lips. He didn’t want it to stop, but your overstimulated senses ached for reprieve.

“Dar?” you whispered once you'd both caught your breath, guiding his stubbled cheek from its hiding spot. When his eyes met yours, they were filled with so much adoration and happiness he had to hold himself back from whimpering. Never in a million years would he thought he’d get you, and here you were, looking at him like the sun shone out of his ass. The same way he looked at you for years, it was jarring to see it reciprocated. How had he missed it?

You leaned forward, tenderly capturing his lips with your own, soothing him as you always did. He knew there was so much you wanted to say, that he wanted to say, but you didn’t need to talk about it tonight. Tonight you would simply soak in each other, a gift you both thought you’d never get and one you would never let go.

He felt you giggle against his lips, and he pulled back with a lazy, fucked-out smile, "What?" he mumbled curiously.

"How's the headache now, big guy?" you teased playfully and he realized then, you'd known he was fibbing today. Saw right through his measly excuse to spend time with you.

He blushed to the tips of his ears, bowing his head to hide it, "Oh, shuddup," he mumbled, attacking your neck in kisses and nips.

Your cheeky ass was gonna pay for that tonight.

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raeathnos · 2 years

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#I’m getting shit from some coworkers for going back to part time now and it’s just????#it’s all from ones who don’t work in the stockroom and have no fucking clue how hard it is #like I spend a good 3-4 hours of my shift unloading a truck and doing heavy lifting still #I have chronic fatigue and chronic pain issues and I am exhausted after that #when I was full time that was another 4-5 hours of work after that #and we’ve been chronically understaffed since covid when corporate figured out they could just overwork us further rather than hire new peep #I was and still am in a leadership position so like they amount of work I was expected to get done was and still is absolutely absurd #I literally get a sheet telling me how long each task needs + how many people were scheduled for that specific day #and it’s never enough people and then they’re like oh well it still needs to get done #I did it full time for almost three years and was ruining my health #my blood pressure shot up and near the end was so high I was having trouble walking and even just standing #I went from having migraines once or twice a month to have them four or five days a week #and they went from fairly painful to absolutely debilitating #I was having the type with the aura and the vision problems were worsening from them so I got labeled as a stroke risk at 31!#a medicine I was on that was the only medication that had ever treated a long term debilitating health issue had to be stopped #because it increased my risk of having a stroke with the new intensified migraines #thankfully the new medicine is working but like do you know how terrifying it is to have been sick for the majority of your life #finally finding a medication that works and only really doing well for like 5-ish years and then being told yeah you can’t take that anymore #I fuckjng broke down sobbing in the doctors office #so yeah the job was not fuckkng worth what it was doing to my body #and I mean I quit originally #I went alright this is enough and literally walked out of there on the spot- I came back because they offered me part time on my terms #so like I’m a little pissed off at the coworkers insinuating that I’m just being lazy now #this job was quite literally costing me my health #and I was very open about what it was doing to me because I was calling off with no sick time all the goddamn time #even tho I never had any sick time cause I’d just fucking use it immediately cause again health issues constantly from the stress #like I’m sorry idk why you think I’m being lazy all of a sudden?#I told them I didn’t want to work more than five hours a day in order to come back and they agreed not to schedule me past that #I’m still exhausted all the time but at least my stress is down significantly and all the health issues I was having stopped #but yeah go ahead and call me lazy 🙄

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emergency-plan · 2 months

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DPxDC Idea

I had a little idea an have no time to actually write a fic, so I just wrote a sorta-summary and am posting it like this.

This is inspired by the game Home Safety Hotline and may contain hints to spoilers for that game. It's really clever, I really like it. I recommend you play it if slightly spooky without any "real" horror appeals to you.

Alright, Danny's been Ghost King for a few years and has realized more than just his usual rogues make their way to the living world, and a lot of those ghosts don't stay in Amity. By himself, it'd take forever to track down all those spirits and specters that are out causing mischief. Luckily, not many that escaped his notice are all that powerful and could only cause minor disturbances, just enough to get noticed by the living.

Many people outside Amity don't even recognize the activity as ghosts, so they blame other sources. Scratching in the walls is mistaken as mice, whispers and apparitions are mistaken as hallucinations and carbon monoxide hallucinations, attempted overshadowings mistaken as stokes or migraines. In this day and age, where does everyone turn to when looking for advice or how to solve problems? The internet.

Team Phantom devise a method to try and track down ghosts that are stuck or tormenting the living by building a website meant to look like a help hotline, and with some algorithm trickery make it one of the top options when searching for signs similar to ghost presences. Add some bits and bobs to make it appear as a more normal-looking website on any computer affiliated with government organizations, and you’ve got some protection from the GIW.

Calls start slowly, so the three of them can handle it by themselves. Once more people are calling, they decide to start a call center. They hired some trusted people around Amity and even a few ghosts who want to help. To get around worrying about the ghosts messing with the tech while personally taking a call, they decide to automate the system to record caller’s reports for the employees to listen to, and then send a report back, offering their services to bring the spirit back to the Realms.

It’s been surprisingly lucrative, and Danny hasn’t had to dip into his kingly funds much other than at the start. He still keeps prices low, just enough to not garner suspicions at offering a free service while paying his workers fairly (he doesn’t want to know why some of the ghosts want mortal money). What he’s started having more trouble with is not enough employees to take the calls. Sometimes ghosts lose track of time and don’t show up for their shifts (he doesn’t blame them, time gets weird in the Ghost Zone), and he’s run out of people he trusts who want the job.

Eventually he decides to put out an ad, deciding he’ll slowly trust whoever takes the job with a little more information over time, see how they react, and measure to see if they’re trustworthy.

What he doesn’t think about is how posting it on the website will let more people than just those that live in Amity apply.

Meanwhile, in Gotham, one Cassandra Cain is looking for a job. She doesn’t need the money, B gives her access to way too much, but she wants the experience. She’s at the age she’s heard most kids get a job, and she wants to see what it’s like.

And she quickly found out retail and fast food are NOT for her. She doesn’t think those conditions are fit for anyone, honestly. She’d have to see if she could get Bruce to work on that. But that still leaves her out of a job. She got overwhelmed with a lot of people, so virtual options would probably be best, and something that let her interact with people without having to speak. There weren’t a lot of options out there, and she wasn’t skilled enough with a computer yet to take programming ones.

That’s when she found the listing for the hotline call center. Based in a small Illinois town, but had virtual options, listen to recorded customer calls, diagnose their issue, and send an information packet on potential next steps. It was indirect, could also help her practice her reading, and flexible. It was perfect.

It didn’t take long to hear back after she applied (Danny was freaking out, he didn’t think anyone outside Amity would apply. He’d turn this kid down, but she’d mentioned her difficulties with speaking in her application and SWEETY YOU DONT MENTION STUFF LIKE THAT ON AN APPLICATION. But she said the job would be perfect for her and he just couldn’t…) and she got the job!

Her first day rolls around and she’s given access to the database. A lot has been redacted, but she has descriptions for common problems like mice, carbon monoxide, black mold, etc. she gets her first call recording and carefully reads through the entries before selecting the one that sounds right. She sends it off and waits for the next. The calls come a little too regularly, with too similar intervals between them, so she figures her new employer is testing how well she’s doing (Danny’s giving her previous resolved calls that weren’t anything supernatural. She even got the ants right! He had even gotten that wrong!)

Eventually, her shift ends and she tells her family how well her first day went at dinner. They congratulate her and go on patrol as usual. The next day, things ramp up a little.

She logs into the database at the beginning of her shift and noticed some new entries. She now had access to descriptions of shades, blob ghosts, will o’ wisps, and more minor spirits. She gets a recording reminding her all this info is confidential and that she’s not allowed to share it with anyone. She’s a little confused, but she reads through each just as carefully. The calls come less regularly, so she figures she’s actually connected to the system now (Danny gave her access to the most common ghosts they get calls about and is listening in while he’s handling ghosts to make sure she doesn’t get anything she’s not prepared for).

Her shift ends and over dinner, she mentions that she’s had to diagnose some odd things. They assure her there’s more pests and hazards out there than you’d expect. She doesn’t tell her family about the distraught woman haunted by the Ecto-Echo of her husband’s habit of making her coffee every morning after he passed a few weeks ago. Or the person who had a Shade masquerading as their shadow. Just about one of her caller's cockroach problem.

The next day follows a similar pattern; more entries, slightly more powerful ghosts, reminder that the info she's been given access to is confidential and could get people hurt if it got in the wrong hands, congratulated for her good work, read through carefully and learn signs of each, diagnose calls, before calling it a day (Danny was so proud of her, she'd only confused a blob ghost with a ghost animal once, and it hadn't caused him any trouble when he went to collect them).

She'd used the bat-computer to check up on some of the callers she'd diagnosed, and they seemed to be doing fine. Some had posted about their weird experiences on their social media and how her employer had somehow helped them, but often didn't quite know how (Danny liked to hide his powers, so most of what customers saw was him using ghost tech. When it couldn't be solved with just a quick souping, he had to pull a little ghostly trickery while the customer wasn't watching). She didn't know how her boss was somehow across the world multiple times a day to help clients in different countries, but he seemed to at least be helping people. She started not having any stories she could tell her family at dinner.

At some point, she heard reports that one of the speedsters probably messed with time travel again before clocking into her shift. She had almost all the available entries and had gotten very good at recognizing tricky cases. She answered a recorded call, just like at the beginning of each of her shifts, but this one was a little different. Danny had sent out an announcement to be on the lookout for a specific phenomena that often occurred after shifts in reality, as they were highly dangerous and needed to be dealt with swiftly.

She studied each entry and paused on what she was supposed to keep a careful eye out for. Revenants, corpses that came back to life, often seen shambling around the graveyards they were buried in. Something about that sounded familiar. A section in their entry said the person brought back often had a ghost in the Realms (which she still didn't know what that was) that was in terrible pain from shifts in reality trying to pull them back to their body, but the separation of dimensions preventing them.

Expectedly, she did get a call from someone convinced there was a zombie wandering somewhere along the east coast. She double checked it couldn't be anything else before submitting it and notifying her boss.

Curious, and she knew no one would be in the batcave around this time of day, she brought her laptop with her down to the bat-computer. She found cameras in the area the caller reported, and froze at what she saw. Shambling across an abandoned street was a rotting corpse. It really did look like a zombie. It was covered in dirt, wearing an old-fashioned suit, and had skin sloughing off its bones.

But what Cass could only focus on was how much its movements read that it was in pain. It was suffering in such a horrible way its mindless being didn't even deserve. It was horrible.

Then, there was a flash of green and an area of the cameras were covered in static. The glitched portion somehow read with kindness and pity. It slowly approached the corpse, simple reaching out gently (what was presumably a hand), ignoring the way it lashed out. It suddenly fell, caught and slowly lower to the ground by the strange being she couldn't see. It closed the thing's eyes before carrying it off in the direction the map said a graveyard could be found.

After that, she finished her shift and went to dinner. Her family asked if she was alright, and she only replied it'd been a long day.

She clocked in early the next day and messaged her boss for more information on Revenants. Dinner that night was one of the few times Jason agreed to come by, and if he noticed how she kept glancing at him, he didn't say anything.

A week later, she asked her boss what might happen if a Revenant was exposed to, as it was called in its entry, a "Corrupted Ecto-Spring" ("...an ugly hole in the fabric of reality that connects the world of the living to the Realms. The ectoplasm that leaks through the tear stagnates and festers into toxic pools that kills humans and makes ghosts sick."). Danny requested a video call.

#dpxdc #danny phantom #cassandra cain #i might continue this later but i REALLY need to get back to my homework #got so many ideas but no time and no energy :(#dcxdp

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spdrvyn · 1 year

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anxiety & arachnids — MIGUEL O'HARA

(( this is going to be a lengthier one than my usual one-shots / snippets / fics / whatever you wanna call them since it has more plot !!! what is the plot? read the fic and find out motherfucker !!!!!! this is also mostly spoiler-free as per usual i think ))

The intensity of your job, the late-nights to the point where you've had to stay back at the precinct, and your overbearing coworkers really wanted you to find a way to travel back in time to prevent yourself from enrolling into police academy.

Were you the best detective out there? God, no. Definitely not. Though even if you weren't, you'd like to think that you excelled most of your acquaintances and fellow investigators in your job. Although among the long web of cases that you have solved over the years, there was a particular file that haunted your desk.

To most, large files were someone's nightmare. So overwhelming and rife with information but that was what you and other detectives just loved about them, you barely even had to lift a finger at times to catch perps or criminals because the file did most of the work for you.

However, the one that you'd been trying to crack for months was only one page thick, the only recent addition being a small sticky note that adds a witness's testimony of events.

You didn't have much of a problem with Spider-Man, you understood that he was just trying to do his job and save lives whatnot even if his methods were rather precarious—

But to find out that there are multiple Spider-People out there? The idea gave you migraines by just thinking about it.

Even for how many that might be lurking in the shadows, waiting for trouble to strike so that they could swoop in and save the day, this file only gave you less than a fraction of what you needed.

At least, you had one picture but it was low in quality. Captured by a civilian's cellphone, one of the older models judging from the camera, they were trying to get away from the commotion as well resulting the subject in the photograph to appear blurred.

Under closer inspection though, you could make out some details but you definitely knew that this wasn't your Spider-Man. Whoever it was, they were wearing a navy suit highlighted with red. A muscular build, blades sticking out of their suit. There was also a big circle behind them; a dizzying array of colors, which was safe to assume that it was a portal.

Spider-People, odd creatures, possible other-worldy travel.

Was this really what you had signed up for?

You curse under your breath, bringing your half-empty cup of coffee to the edge of your lips before it's quickly taken from your grasp. You're prepared to lecture whoever even dared to lay a hand on your drink before you realize that your captain is the one with the mug in their hands, whatever unholy grail of swear words you were about to unleash was now silenced.

Your captain let out a defeated utterance of your name, "Working until you die again?" They stare disappointedly into your mug. "Is the coffee supposed to speed up the process?"

With a harsh bite to your tongue, you fight back the urge to roll your eyes. It's not like they were as pesky as the people you've come to known over the years of working in this place, far from it but their demands for "self-care" and "work-life balance" made your head spin a lot more times than you'd like to admit.

"Go home. I don't mean to discourage you but why work on this case still? It's so cold that it's practically freezing."

"If nobody is going to work on it then I will."

"Of course, it's good to take responsibility but the only thing that's been added to this file over the last two months is a sticky note. A sticky note. I appreciate your persistence more than anything but above it all, I appreciate self-respect more."

Clueless. You felt so damn clueless, with this situation, with the nonsense advice that your captain was giving you. All you could do is look back at down at the folder, staring at it with such an intensity, secretly hoping that an entirely new page would appear.

The dismay that emanated from their sigh practically pierced you straight through your heart.

"It's clear to me now. I hope it's clear to you soon that working yourself to the bone over something like this isn't what we do. Get yourself together and get some rest."

The click-clack of their dress shoes drove you to near madness as you heard them leave the precinct. Maybe rest was what you needed, not like you had much of a choice anyway as the morning shift was about to come in soon.

You pack your bag, slinging it over your shoulder. It would probably be better to take the stairs at least to get rid of the energy you got from drinking an ungodly amount of caffeine tonight.

Speaking of caffeine, that was possibly the only edible item that you've consumed during your whole shift. Starving yourself was a habit that you were guilty of, getting so wrapped up in your work that even eating slipped your mind.

However let it not be said that you were picky, you opted to just pass by a fast food restaurant on the way back to your apartment.

It was the dead of night once you actually got your hands on some food, originally you were going to take it back to your apartment but the growling in your stomach told you that dinner was more of an urgent matter in the more.

You open the small box, taking the burger you ordered in your hands and about to take one juicy, delicious bite until—

"Incoming!"

Your delicious meal interrupted as someone was slammed through the windows of the establishment; gasps echoed the walls of the place as people didn't even hesitate to bring their phones out. All the employees run into the backroom.

Instinct just kicks in as you reach for the badge attached to your belt, as you attempt to reassure the innocent customers who were probably having just as much of a tiring night as you are.

You're about to approach the person that was slumped against the counter of the cashier until you register the robotic tentacles sticking out of a machine stuck to their back. Immediately, you pull your gun out.

This was all so confusing, you were so sure that your colleagues had arrested Doctor Octopus so many moons ago. Yet, why was he laying before you? He looked so different. Did he break out of prison and get a magic makeover or something?

Your heart rate skyrocketed through the roof as you catch a faint glow of red from the corner of your eye.

Without hesitation, you turn around and point to the figure behind you; who looked like they were about to continue whatever shenanigans they were engaging with Doc Octopus before stopping dead in their tracks at the sight of your weapon.

"Freeze! Don't move an inch,"

As the figure freezes, you are finally able to get a good glimpse at them. The suit matches the one you saw in your case file, it's never really processed in your head how tall they might actually be. This Spider-Man could easily tower over you, perhaps pointing a gun at him wasn't really the best choice.

That idea was really hammered into your skull as the Spider-Man 'raises an eyebrow' (at least, signalled by his mask) and looks up slowly, you've nearly forgotten that there's a real criminal right behind you.

Your gun is snatched immediately out of your hands as you turn your head once more, it's effortlessly crushed under the grasp of one of the Doctor's tentacles. They scowl at you through tinted goggles.

Shit.

Akin to the way that they were thrown into the eatery, your back harshly hit the area where they deep fry their food. The small basket tips over and spills hot oil onto the floor, the impact spits some of the substance onto your face and hands causing you to wince in pain.

Thankfully before you're about to lose your face, as one of the tentacles reach for you, your hand reaches for the same basket and smacks it hard. Some of the oil melts the coating of the robotic appendage.

You take a peek from below the counter and the people that you saw a while ago had disappeared, they all ran away. You wanted to die, there went your witnesses...

The Doctor yelps at the damage done to it's attachments, about to send yet another attack to your disheveled body, it's cut off (quite literally) by the slice of a blade.

The Spider-Man that you familiarized yourself with a while ago had sliced it off completely only angering the enemy further.

You want to help, even if you won't be able to catch whoever this guy is, there was a bigger threat right now.

Unfortunately as you try to stand, your legs give up on you from how brutally you were thrown and you fall back onto your behind once more. Though you weren't completely rendered useless, you attempt to crawl to the back. Telling one of the staff to call the authorities but once you got a glimpse, there was nobody there either. Were you the only one with any form of responsibility here?!

You reach for your own cellphone, only to find it unable to function from— once again— the impact of how you were thrown. Perfect. This was perfect.

It got even more perfect as the Doctor practically came in sliding into the back walls of the building, you panic and quickly move backwards until you realize that they're wrapped in some form of webbing.

The Spider-Man breezes past you, holding down the seemingly now unconscious criminal. Your ragged breath hitches as his gaze meets yours, you were defenseless. Besides some kitchen items that were littered across the floor from the scuffle but none of them could prove useful to you.

Your head was actually spinning now, you brought a fist to your forehead in a sad attempt to quaell the throbbing but no use. Your eyes begun getting droopier and droopier.

Your heart spiked more as a portal opened to the left of you, came in swinging in another Spiderman.

He seemed to be wearing a worn-down jacket and a regular spider suit but replace the pants with sweatpants. He had an empty baby carrier strapped to his chest.

"You're late."

"Fashionably so! Now, where is he?"

"Right here."

The one in navy kicks the body over to the more musty looking Spider-Man, he takes a step back. "Are you kidding me?! You dealt with him already? I put Mayday down for a nap like ten minutes later than I'm supposed to and you just—"

The less well-dressed Spider-Man catches sight of you, eyes as wide as saucers as he points. "Who's that?"

"Detective."

Not even two seconds later, he's kneeled down before you. Holding, only God knows how many fingers up, their whole conversation is going one ear out the other with you.

"Seems like they have a concussion and a couple of burns. Did anyone call an ambulance or somethin'?"

"No, they got chased out like squirrels by the anomaly."

"You know that we should probably deal with them, right?"

"What exactly do you mean by that?"

You can't even care enough to listen in to their interaction anymore, your head falls forward. The aching in your ribs, the stinging on your hands, it's too much to bare as you slip into the hold of unconsciousness.

#miguel o'hara #spiderman 2099 #peter b. parker #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #spiderman: across the spiderverse #across the spiderverse #spiderverse #atsv #spiderman #lmao get cliffhanged ONCE AGAIN

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lionlena · 1 year

Text

☆MASTERLIST☆

Pedro Pascal

One Shot:

♡A kitchen disaster

♡Just let it go…

♡New job, new problems...

♡Just breathe

Series:

♡His Curls - Part 1, Part 2, Part 3 (completed)

♡Hate run, love speed - Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4 (in progress)

♡We don’t love each other - Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7 - Final (completed)

Request:

♡A perfect day for a perfect girl (It's your birthday and Pedro makes you feel loved and special all day)

Headcanon:

♡What sleeping position do they most like when you are with them? (Pedro Pascal characters)💤

♡How will they react to your makeup? (Pedro Pascal and his characters) 👁️👄💅

♡Headcanon: How do they behave when you have a migraine? (Pedro Pascal characters)🩹😴 (+ Dave and Marcus)

♡Headcanon: How will they react if you tell them about CDD? (Pedro Pascal characters) 👰💔😱🤕

♡Headcanon: Who will be ready to kill for you? From most willing to least... (Pedro Pascal characters) 🔪💀☠️🩸

♡Headcanon: How do they cook for you? (Pedro Pascal characters) 🥕🧑‍🍳🍓

Joel Miller

One Shot:

♡This is just a nightmare… (The Last of Us ff/ Joel/Ellie)

♡Strong for both of us

♡Trouble with ex

♡Dyeing your hair…

♡Together in happiness and depression… (no outbreak)

Series:

♡Unforgivable mistake, Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7 Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12 (in progress)

♡I can't be everywhere (No outbreak!) Part 1 , Part 2, Part 3, Part 4... (in progress)

Request:

♡You need a better place (Joel loving a girl with epilepsy)

♡Blue dress (Joel Miller x plus size!reader)

Headcanon:

♡When Joel goes limp… (JoelMillerxf!reader)🤷🍆🩹

Javier Peña

One Shot:

♡I’ll protect you… (bc you’re mine)

♡I’ll hurt you… ( bc you’re mine )

♡I’ll leave you (bc youre not mine)

♡I'll stay with you... ( bc I love you)

♡You’re hot…

♡A girl from the street

Series:

♡Dancing With Your Ghost - Part I, Part II, Part III, Part IV, Part V, Part VI, Part VII, Part VIII, Part IX, Part X, Part XI, Part XII, Epilogue (completed)

♡Too many shadows behind you - Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5 (in progress)

Headcanon:

♡Nicotine (JavierPeña and You)

Agent Whiskey (Jack Daniels)

Series:

♡Dynasty - Part 1, Part 2, (in progress)

One Shot:

♡Mean (JackDanielsxf!reader)

♡Llamas don't drink whiskey...

Headcanon:

♡What does Jack's ranch look like? 🤠🐴🐓🐮🧑‍🌾

Javi Gutierrez

One Shot:

♡Too hot

Frankie Morales

One Shot:

♡Lost cat

Marcus Pike

One Shot:

♡"7.44 am"

Headcanon:

♡If Teresa tried to get Marcus back after years...

♡Marcus tells you about his meeting with Teresa...

Oberyn Martell

Series:

♡Red Viper and Fox - Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4 (in progress, soon english version)

One Shot:

♡♕Queen's Milk

♡I Hold You

♡Remember me… (ANGST!)

♡Leave... (ANGST)

Headcanon:

♡Headcoanon: Oberyn's finger kink... 🤤💦🤌

The Old Guard (movie)

One Shot:

♡ Amira

♡ It hurts like hell

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just-wrting · 8 months

Text

Just My Type

Title: Just My Type

Pairing: Nanami Kento x Reader

Summary: Itadori helps you get closer to a man who is just your type and your opposite.

Word Count: 2126

Master List

A/N: I'm so sorry! I got a really bad string of migraines and started to sink into a slump. But here is the next prompt! I'll try to keep up, but I won't finish during October I guess. Also, NO SPOILERS PLEASE! I haven't seen season 2.

You tilt your head and study the young boy in front of you. Unsure of the reason, you wonder what sort of reason would lead the more powerful Nanami to leave a teenager in your care.

“Remind me again why I’m in charge.”

“I’m needed elsewhere and can’t leave him alone. He is to be supervised at all times.”

You frown and look over your shoulder at Nanami. He looks as stoic as ever, even getting ready to head out as he talks.

“Well, for being the vessel of the king of curses, he’s awfully adorable. Are they so sure he poses a threat?”

He sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. “I am not qualified to speak on that. Just don’t get him killed in the process of whatever you are doing today.”

“You’re being so cold today, Nanami. A thank you wouldn’t hurt, but since you’re my favorite I’ll do you this favor.”

—-

The silence is overwhelming. You aren’t sure how to approach a conversation with Itadori.

“Despite your power level most likely being above mine, I’d like you to stay back when fighting curses today. I know you’d be fine, but if this whole thing with those special curses involves other sorcerers, you need to know more about them.”

It’s almost comical howhe tilts his head in response. “I need to know more about those sorcerers? We don’t even know who they are.”

You push down the urge to ruffle his hair like he’s a dog and shake your head. “You need to know more about other sorcerers in general. Cursed techniques vary between people even if they are similar. The more you see the better you’ll be able to pick up on things.”

You know that’s not one hundred percent true. Some sorcerers are good at keeping their technique hidden while others get benefits for telling their technique. Nanami is open about his technique and you often find yourself a bit jealous of it. The ability to create a weak point on your opponent is amazing.

“Then what’s your technique?”

You wave your hand, attempting to dismiss the question. “It’s nothing as cool as others. It’s not even that powerful.”

Despite you being dismissive, Itadori stares at you expectantly. He’s new to the world of curses, and seems to always be willing to learn a bit more about them. His willingness to put others first is also adorable, and you find it hard to tell him no.

“It’s easier to show than explain. If you want the simple answer, I can turn my cursed energy into flowers. Each does something different,” you say awkwardly. “If you want, there’s rumors about a curse near here. If there is one I’ll show you.”

“Let’s go! No point in waiting!”

—-

You know as soon as you enter the open space that the curse is going to give you trouble. It’s not stronger than you in fact, it's a little weaker. The issue is that you’ve been hiding an injury. That’s what will make it difficult.

“Like I said Itadori, stay back unless I say so. I’ll be able to handle it, it just might take me a bit.”

He opens his mouth to protest, but chooses not to. You’re stubborn and would make sure that he listens even if he protests. Keeping him safe is better than letting him get hurt. The poor kid has already died.

You analyze the area, trying to figure out the best place to start. The curse is too strong to be easily put to sleep with a blanket of lavender, but it would still disorient it. The problem is that you aren’t sure if, as a human, Itadori would be knocked out.

The first step is easy. You reach into a little orange pouch and pull out a few seeds. After imbuing them with your cursed energy, you place them across your side. Within seconds, bright orange blossoms appear and the soothing effect begins.

“Woah, what are those?” Itadori asks and reaches his hand out.

“Calendula blossoms. They’re used in rash and burn treatments but my cursed energy allows them to ease all my pain.”

Thankfully your cursed energy also means that they’re easy to remove. There’s no pain during the removal, the pain from the original injury returns soon after though. It’s something that you’ve never used on another person, but it’s very effective on yourself for pain management.

“If you start to feel tired, back up. The area of effect is larger than I’d like for this space,” you warn before stepping forward.

You hold your hand out, having dozens of fuzzy seeds appear. Pulling a fan out of your satchel, you keep your eyes peeled for the curse. The soft light causes shadows to flicker, and you make sure to glance in each direction to carefully inspect even the smallest of movements.

From above drops a misshapen dark blob. It lands in front of you, and you shield the seeds from the burst of air. Once the air stills again, you blow the seeds towards the curse. Each starts to take root in the curse’s face. The rapid growth of your curse causes the seeds to bloom within a few seconds. Dozens of dandelions pop out of their shells.

The curse howls and tries to pull out one of the flowers. With a massive tug, it pulls out a root at least eight inches long. This leaves a bleeding hole in the curse. As it writhes in pain, the other dandelions close up to turn into the fluffy seeds. The movement will cause them to spread all over the curse, so you tuck away your fan.

You duck and twist through the tentacles of the blob. You’re doing your best to avoid getting smashed as it squirms in pain. There’s no sympathy from you as you leap over it and land on the other side. Taking seeds from a purple pouch, you toss them along the ground.

A blanket of lavender spreads along the ground, engulfing the grimy concrete. As each flower blooms, the soothing scent of lavender hangs in the air and the curse starts to move slower. It won’t be put to sleep by the flowers as weaker curses might, but it will slow it down and relax it. You aren’t fully immune to this yet, and you feel the smell start to relax your body.

This slower reaction time causes you to stumble when the curse swats at you. It sends you flying into the field of lavender. Blood drips down your side as your injury reopens. The pain takes longer to subside this time.

“I need to wrap this up,” you mumble under your breath. “I’m going to make a fool out of myself.”

You pull three seeds out of the red pouch and clutch them in your fist. You set it ablaze with cursed energy, ready to punch through the curse. As you sprint towards it, you try to ignore the growing spot of blood on your side.

You let your body drop into a slide, coming to a stop under the blob. Despite the lack of momentum, you’re able to punch up into its center. You open your hand and deposit the seeds. As they start to poke through, you scramble back.

Three rose bushes burst out of the curse and start to climb up its body. The reddish-orange roses bloom as the thorny vines meld together. It takes no more than a minute or two for the whole curse to be covered in roses. You extend your hand out and light the bushes on fire with cursed energy.

With the large bleeding holes from the pulled dandelions and the spiky web of roses, the curse is exorcized. As it disappears, you let all of the flowers wither. The petals fall from the air, but turn into nothing before hitting the ground. You feel woozy, but suck it up.

“That was surprisingly cool!” Itadori yells as he rushes towards you. “I didn’t think flowers could kill curses.”

You ruffle his hair. “Thanks, I like to think I have some surprises. Be sure to tell Nanami how cool I am. Just don’t tell him I fought while injured, I don’t want it to impact my chances of a promotion.”

“I’ll make sure he thinks you’re cool too!”

—-

You’re staring at the displays in the shop window longfully. You’ve been good at limiting your spending, but the display of the stuffed animal cat is too cute to resist. It might be silly to see an adult fawning over how plush it looks, but you don’t really care.

As you make up your mind to head in, you feel a hand on your shoulder. You spin around and see Nanami. Itadori runs over to join the two of you.

“What are you doing here?” you ask.

“Gojo is coming back today and he agreed to meet in Tokyo! I wanted to look around so I got here early,” Itadori explains as he shows off a few shopping bags. “I think I see him over there!”

With the quickest goodbye you’ve ever heard, the boy rushes off. You’re not surprised by his actions since he acts lively all the time. It’s adorable how excited he is to visit the city.

“Isn’t he adorable? He’s like a puppy or a little brother,” you giggle. “It’s a good thing you’ve also taught him.”

“What makes you say that?”

You start to feel a little nervous. “Well, Gojo doesn’t have to worry about making rash decisions. He can practically fight however he wants with how strong he is. You and I have to make smart choices so we don’t die. Someone needs to teach him that he needs to make smart choices.”

“I suppose you’re correct. It would be a shame if you made a choice that led to your death,” he agrees.

“Not that Gojo can’t teach him important things. He has his own charms and abilities.”

Nanami gets a far-off look in his eyes. “Do you find Gojo charming?”

You’re taken aback. It never crossed your mind to talk about romance with your fellow sorcerers, for various reasons, let alone talk to someone as stoic as Nanami about it. Here he is, mentioning the topic to you.

“Not really. Sure I would complain about having a strong man loving me, but I wouldn’t classify Gojo as my type. If you’re considering me your friend now, I could indulge you by telling you my type,” you say with a cheeky grin. “I’m always down to talk about romance.”

Nanami sighs. “I suppose I can’t stop you.”

You giggle. “You could, but if I’m going to tell you my type, I want to hear yours. What could the type of such a secretive man be? It’s like a romantic mystery.”

He crosses his arms and gives a slight frown. Nothing is said, so you take it as an agreement to your condition.

“Well, my type of guy is someone who’s intelligent and calculating. Being strong isn’t a must, but it would be nice.” You press your lips together as you think. “As much as a man who is sweet would be amazing, I just want him to be nice to me at least, like a gentleman!”

As you list off traits, you realize that you’re describing the things you know about Nanami. However, you don’t share that fact. Why would a man who is so stoic and stern like someone who is emotional and soft?

“You wanted the cat in the window, correct?”

Nanami’s question catches you off guard. You don’t know when he turned to point at it, or how he figured out that you wanted the cat.

“Yeah, how did you know?” you sheepishly respond. “I can’t help but like cute things.”

His jaw is clenched, and you know he’s got something bothering him. Whatever it is, it doesn’t stop him from gently leading you into the shop.

“Since I can’t tell you my type right now, I’ll get you the cat. Consider it a sort of promise to tell you when I can. Besides, Itadori talked a lot about you, so I need to thank you for looking after him."

You feel your face heat up as he pulls one off the shelf. Trying to push the feeling in your chest down, you give him a big smile.

“Don’t worry! I’ll hold you to it,” you exclaim. “Besides, you know I wouldn’t judge you for what your type is. After all, I did sort of describe you.”

You’re too preoccupied with the other stuff in the store to notice that the composed look on Nanami’s face starts to slip.

For anyone curious, the roses are Warm Welcome Roses!

#reader insert #x reader #nanami kento #nanami x reader #jjk nanami #jjk fic #kento nanami

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lua-magic · 7 months

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How Planets Affect Our Health and Body

People with exhalted sun, or sun with fiery planets like Mars and south node could suffer from baldness.

Debilated sun, like in libra or cancer could cause you heart problems.

Sun afflicted by south node or north node or when gets debilated libra or water signs, could give eyes related problems, or bones issue.

Sun or Mars in Scorpio though considered exalted could give piles

Mars when gets debilated in water signs like fourth house, or twelfth house or afflicted by south node or north node could give skin problems.

Debilated Jupiter in Capricorn or when afflicted by south node north node or when combust with sun could cause liver problems and cholesterol.

In extreme case, bad Jupiter could cause cancer as well.

Bad Venus or when afflicted could cause impotency in men especially when Venus is with south node.

Venus is always exalted in water signs in fourth house and in pieces.

Fast moving planets like Mercury and moon in twelfth house could give you insomnia.

Moon is in when sixth, eighth and twelfth could give you mental issues, as you can't let things go easily from you.

Remedy is too give power to moon.

Issues, like migraine and bloating, pain in legs and teeth are caused by bad Saturn.

Bad ketu or south node in chart could give problems of back pain and urinary tract infection and problems related to ears..

Bad north node or rahu could give you hallucinations, schizophrenia and phobias and disconnect you from reality.

Bad or afflicted Mercury could cause you ADHD, anxiety, learning issues and speech problems like stammering, stutter and lisp.

If the fifth house is damaged by rahu, ketu or Saturn or if Jupiter is afflicted or debilated in women then it can cause, infertility or trouble during childbirth.

#medical astrology #astro community #astro observations #astro notes #astrology

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ryin-silverfish · 2 months

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Heart and Mind: An Analysis of Tripitaka

I've been wanting to write this since…since I came across some good ol' Tripitaka discourse in the LMK fandom ages ago. Couldn't remember the specifics, but as y'all probably know, it falls under the "Is him an abusive master" and people's strongly worded retort to that question.

On one hand, I dislike the "abusive" take because so often, it is an excuse to reduce a character to an 2D caricature for cheap angst purposes, and both JTTW and its historical context deserve more nuances than that.

On the other hand, I don't agree with some of the defenses either——that Tripitaka is Kind and Wise and The Virtuous Monk, Actually, and people who said otherwise just had their views colored by adaptations, or were ignorant westerners misreading the book.

Because trust me, Chinese readers absolutely have gripes with Tripitaka too, and sass him mercilessly.

We may have a better idea of the historical context, namely, the common usage and acceptance of corporal punishments, but quite a few of us don't think he's a good Buddhist either.

Instead, I'd like to focus on his allegorical role, and how it ultimately forms the basis for my interpretation of his character.

It is commonly acknowledged that each pilgrim represent an aspect of the enlightenment seeker: Monkey is the Mind, Dragon Horse the Will, Pigsy the Desire, Sandy the Determination/Ideation.

Tripitaka is either the enlightenment seeker as a human, or the Heart, the Compassion.

But how can someone represent Compassion when his behaviors don't look all that compassionate, when he seems to care more about what a good Buddhist looks like on paper than in spirit?

How can a compassionate man punish his disciple with a migraine spell and disown him twice, be okay with some violence but not others?

Well, to answer that question, I feel like you have to look at Tripitaka in conjunction with SWK, and what the monkey represents. He is literally the Mind Monkey, the boundless potential of human intellect, and that, by itself, is neutral.

In the word of one of the best poems in JTTW:

"He could be good; he could be bad; present good and evil he could do at will. He'd be an immortal, a Buddha, if he's good; wickedness would cloak him with hair and horn."

To put it simply, SWK is one's wits, one's problem-solving skills, the ability to discern good and evil on a cognitive level.

Whenever Tripitaka, the Compassion, is deceived, it falls to the Mind to see the opponents as they are, and take action to protect the human from harm.

But just as blind compassion without judgement can be exploited by evil, the reverse is true for a mind without compassion, driven solely by their own ambition and whims and practical knowledge.

The Mind knows that robbery is a crime, so these robbers deserve death, but has no idea how disturbing it is for a regular guy to witness six people being brutally murdered in front of him.

The Mind knows that abandoning your wife and family to become a bandit is shameful and unfilial, but cannot comprehend why the bandit's father may not want his son killed for these offenses.

The Mind knows right and wrong, but has trouble seeing the human behind those acts, and why one should care in the first place.

And to see what the Mind looks like without any of Compassion's restraint, one needs to look no further than SWK's "Second Mind", the Six-eared Macaque.

Just like how "Heart" sounds like a lame power for a character, Compassion isn't flashy, nor as useful in a strictly ultilitarian sense. In fact, having compassion makes you vulnerable. It hurts. And unscrupulous people will absolutely use it against you.

So why hold onto your weakness and wallow in it? The world doesn't need another sanctimonious wuss, it needs strong, clever people making hard sacrifices, ruthless, logical decisions! Tough up! Stop caring, and you'll never be hurt again!

Much like a certain crowd who think basic human decency is somehow political propaganda, perhaps, when SEM struck Tripitaka, he was trying to do the same thing.

Kill the embodiment of compassion, the sniveling, useless, fragile human that keeps holding SWK back. Replace him as the true Mind, the one strong enough to break all bonds and seize glory with his own two hands.

But without compassion, without humanity, one is no longer a whole person, and cannot reach enlightenment. In fact, just like how Buddha would only give the True Scripture to Tripitaka, if you are not brave enough to make yourself vulnerable, to suffer and feel other's suffering, you will never transcend it.

At best, you can have some pale imitations of the parts you have willingly shut out from yourself.

And that's what SEM does. He thought he could do it on his own, singlehandedly replace SWK and reap the benefits of enlightenment, but he is no Monkey Awakened to Emptiness.

He is just empty; cut off desires because it is base, cut off determined ideation because it is foolish, cut off compassion because it is weak, cut off the altruism and curiosity and creativity from the mind, and you are left with a grand total of NOTHING.

A shadow of a self, desperately clinging onto external validation and stolen stories, reading the pilgrim's travel paperwork out loud as if that would actually make the journey his.

Tripitaka needs to trust SWK and learn from him, because compassion, much like good intention, doesn't solve problems on its own, and mercy is not the same as enabling harm.

SWK needs his master's guidance, because even at his most selfish and impulsive, he cares, and only by extending that care to others and accepting the vulnerability that comes with it can he truly mature and become awakened to the ultimate truth.

Thank you for coming to my TED Talk.

One last bit of ramble: I feel like there is something to be said about Tripitaka's tendency to trust Pigsy, and how the pursuit of enlightenment is often derailed by worldly desires.

Unlike the demons they encountered, however, Pigsy is not the personification of mental obstacles that must be destroyed, because you cannot destroy bodily needs, nor the very human tendencies to slack off and avoid trouble.

You should stop listening to its advice, sure. Poke fun at it, absolutely. But what Pigsy represents is part of the human condition, just like every other pilgrim, and also something one must make peace with.

#journey to the west #xiyouji #jttw #tripitaka #tang sanzang #sun wukong #six eared macaque #pigsy #zhu bajie #character analysis #lego monkie kid

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littleredwing89 · 10 months

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FAMOUS [PART TWO]

Bodyguard!Jason Todd x Singer!Reader

Summary: “Look—Sionis hired me to keep an eye on you and make sure nothing happens. So whilst I’m here, we need to set some ground rules down”.

WARNINGS: Death threats mentioned. Language/swearing. Annoying friend dynamic.

A/N: So here is part two!! Wooo!! 💛💛 this is a little bit longer and starting to build a little between Jason & our beautiful reader - also, more annoying friend Roy 🤣. Please note, there isn’t a posting schedule for Famous (just with how busy my work is right now - so please bare with me - I am sorry!!) sending all my love & please enjoy the next chapter - Elle xoxo (also big thanks again to @offendedfishnoises for your help with this - much love as always)

————

CONFLICT OF PRIVACY

————

You watched Jason stomp from one room to the other through your usually very peaceful studio apartment, disrupting the very nature of your home. His presence set your nerves on edge, fraying the calmness to anxiety. You could feel a migraine starting to brew and you sighed loudly, rubbing your temples in languid circles. You prayed for strength in this troubled time, you couldn’t sack him before he’d even started...could you?

Jason came to a stop in front of you, his black combat boots crumpling mud and leaves into the pristine white tiles. His fringe flopped down into his sparkling eyes and heaved a deep sigh. He didn’t even know where to begin, the problems were endless. Nothing was safe. No. It all had to change, now.

“We’re going to have to install a lot of personal cameras in and around your home…and we’ll probably have to restrict mail and parcels coming into you too—it’ll all have to be vetted before it gets to you”.

Wait? What? Was he serious?! He was going to read everything before it got to you?!

“Woah!! Hold on a second there—just wait a damn minute! What about my privacy?!”.

Jason scoffed incredulously. Were you serious right now? Did you really have no idea of the kind of trouble you were in? Had Sionis really not told you?

“You are in serious danger”.

You scowled, resting a hand on your hip, “Maybe so but I don’t exactly want you rummaging through my things! My mail!! There—there—”, you swallowed a little nervously, fighting the blush rising to your cheeks, “—Could be personal items!!”.

“Like what?”, Jason glowered back.

He couldn’t be that stupid could he? You looked at him, eyebrows raised high on your forehead. He didn’t budge an inch, glaring hotly. You flushed again, “None of your damn business! That’s why they’re called personal items!!”.

Jason bristled at your uncooperative nature, huffing out a large puff of air, “Whether you like this or not, you’ve got to listen to me, I’m here to keep you out of trouble”.

“Trouble?! What do you mean by that?!”.

Trouble?! Did he mean that? You’d never done anything bad your entire career. You’d been the golden girl— always. You prided yourself on your good morals and nature. Even when your dress had caught on the red carpet that one time and flashed your pants, you’d still managed to play it off. Thankfully. Probably something Roman did, but still. It was besides the point. You glared at Jason, unable to believe the audacity of the man. You’d be calling Roman the second Jason was out of earshot. How could he hire him? Ugh.

Taking a deep breath, Jason skimmed a hand through his unruly hair feeling the tension radiating off him. He knew this would be tough but this wasn’t what he was expecting at all.

“Look—Sionis hired me to keep an eye on you and make sure nothing happens. So whilst I’m here, we need to set some ground rules down”.

“I’m a fully grown woman…this is all completely unnecessary!”.

Jason barked out a laugh, “Yeah—a fully grown woman with death threats hanging over her head…do you know the things they’ve threatened to do to you—do you?!”. He’d never read anything quite as awful as the things in those letters, the tweets. Vile. Disgusting. How anyone could—he didn’t want to dwell on it.

A breath caught in your throat, threatening to choke you. There was a wild, unreadable look in his eyes and it silenced you. The threats must have been disturbing to cause that sort of a reaction. You shook your head timidly.

“N-no…”.

Guilt swamped him immediately. You didn’t deserve that. He’d promised Sionis he wouldn’t divulge, knowing it’d scare the hell out of you. He’d fucked up already. Shit. He swallowed slowly and slipped his hand into the pocket at the front of his jeans.

“I’m sorry…I know this is tough and it’s a lot to take in but, things are gonna have to change. I’m going to have to be by your side, 24/7…this is really serious Y/N”.

You nodded softly, looking down at your bare feet. Your deep purple nail polish was chipped. Almost a reflection of your inner feelings.

“Okay”.

Jason internally smiled. He’d made some sort of ground with you. There was a short silence, filled only by the muffled sounds of the birds from outside.

“I—I made up a room for you…third door on the left at the end of the corridor. I cleared it all out and put fresh bedding on for you”.

“Thank you”, Jason bent down and grabbed his duffle off the floor, “‘ppreciate it”.

The space between you both was awkward, filled with unspoken tension and silence. Jason wanted to say so much but he didn’t know where to start. This wasn’t the best first start, he wanted it to be different. Better. Christ, he’d dreamt of meeting you plenty of times before this. None of it ended like this. He started to flush at the thought, pink creeping up his neck. There was no way he could let that interfere with his work.

“I’ll—”.

“I’m—”.

You both laughed awkwardly, eyes meeting briefly. He saw a hidden glitter there. No photo would ever do you justice.

“I’ll see you later Jason”, you gave him a slight smile before disappearing down the hallway into your study, closing the door behind you quietly.

Jason looked up towards the ceiling and closed his eyes in frustration.

“Fuck me”.

————

After he’d finished unpacking his belongings, Jason flopped back onto the bed in the centre of the room, sighing as he hit the softness of the pillows. This was way more comfier than his bed at home. He sank further back and closed his eyes, the mattress easing the pain in his lower back. Just as he felt himself drifting into a relaxed state, his phone chirped to life, vibrating obnoxiously along the bedside table. He grunted and reached over to grab it, rolling his eyes at the caller ID. Harper. God. He couldn’t catch a break. How could he be so unlucky in such a short space of time. What did this idiot want?

Jason slipped his finger across the screen and sighed, “It’s not even been 2 hours, what could you possibly want already?”.

“2 hours? Is that it? Feels way longer—must be missing you more than I thought…So, come on, gimme the gossip…how was the first day? Have you managed to keep your cool or have you blown your load already?”.

“You’re a fucking idiot”, Jason sighed, feeling the embarrassment and annoyance curdling in his stomach.

Roy laughed loudly and grinned, “Ok— so, what I’m reading from that response is, things haven’t gone to plan”.

Jason rolled his eyes, sarcasm dripped from his voice, “Of course they haven’t! I’ve come in and completely disrupted her life”.

“For good reason”.

Jason sighed, he wished you had the same view, “She doesn’t see it like that”.

“Well no, she won’t”, Roy laughed at Jason.

“You’re not really helping here”, Jason’s voice was strained with frustration.

Roy stunted his cackle, “So…what happened?”.

“She just wasn’t very receptive of me…or the security plans”.

“Maybe she's playing hard-to-get”, Roy teased playfully.

Jason grunted, “Roy, this isn't a rom-com”.

“That’s what you’re saying now but before you know it…look Jay, women aren’t complicated Jay, just be yourself”.

Jason shook his head emptying of any wandering thoughts, “This is just a job, a very irritating job”.

Roy scoffed, “Yeah? If it was just a job, why are you so bothered? You’ve handled clients worse than her”, he coughed deeply covering up the next word “Wilson”.

“Please”, Jason shuddered at the thought of Slade, “Don’t remind me of that Karen”.

Roy cackled deeply, “I think you rather enjoyed it”.

“More than this job”, he growled irritatedly, “She just keeps whining about ‘her privacy’ like I’m going to go through all her shit. I don’t wanna raid her stuff, I’m just here to do a job and to do that I have to check things…surely she understands this?!”.

“Jason…”, Roy put his hand over his forehead, sighing, “You’re so dense sometimes…”.

“What? What do you mean?!”.

Roy laughed, unable to believe he was about to explain this to his best friend, “Jay…she’s a single woman, what do you think she means by privacy…or her private things…”, he internally face palmed. He wasn’t sure if Jason was usually this stupid or if his little crush was blind siding him, “Bet she fucking flipped when you said ‘bout installing personal cameras…I mean, come on Jay…don’t you ever think?”.

Jason sat up on the bed suddenly and let out a strangled sort of whimper, “Roy—I am going to choke on my foot if I keep talking to her—I can’t—”.

“Christ Jay!”, Roy cut over his friend loudly, “Just act normal around her!”.

“You say it like it’s easy!”, Jason ran his fingers through his hair, hoping the movement would somehow soothe him.

“We both know I’m a bigger hit with the ladies Jay-bird”, Roy smirked, lightening the mood instantly.

Jason sighed deeply before looking at his closed bedroom door. He knew he’d have to leave shortly, do some rounds of the place and maybe go out to get you both some food, “I need better friends”.

“Don’t know what you’re talking about Todd—I’m the bestest friend you’ll ever have—or need”.

“Harper”.

“Yeah?”.

“What kind of food goes down well with—you know—”.

“Fucking hell Todd”, Roy laughed unable to contain it any longer, “Get her a burger from Pauli’s, bet she hasn’t had one of those in years”.

————

Jason knocked on your study door, waiting a while but received no answer. The take out bag swung low in his other hand, the greasy smell wafted up his nostrils. Enticing. His stomach rumbled again and he scoffed, how could he possibly still be hungry? He knocked again before taking an executive decision and pushing open the door. If you screamed at him, he’d just have to take it. Hopefully you weren’t doing anything too private in here. He shoved the thought down fast before it consumed him. The sight that met his eyes melted his heart. You were slumped over your computer desk—fast asleep, the blue light casting a beautiful glow over your skin. You looked heavenly. Better than any ad or poster he’d seen of you. You looked so natural. Fuck—his heart skipped a beat—or two.

From what Jason could tell, you’d been working on another song, papers scattered all around you, a pencil still lodged behind your ear. He wasn’t sure how you pulled off both sexy and adorable but you did.

Your laptop was old, the colour faded at the corners. If he was forced to guess, he’d say this was your old college laptop. A worn out sticker was stuck on the side, he could barely make it out, not without getting closer and disturbing you.

He dropped the take out bag down onto the table beside you gently, so as not to wake you and then tiptoed back out, silently closing the door behind him. He’d had enough experience of that sneaking out of Wayne Manor in the middle of the night with Dick. Jason smirked to himself as the memories flooded back.

He just hoped the take out would go down well and you’d realise that he was here to stay, but, more importantly, it didn’t have to be all that bad between the pair of you.

————

#jason todd x reader #jason todd imagine #red hood x reader #jason todd smut #jason todd x reader insert #red hood imagine #jason todd fanfiction #red hood smut #red hood x reader insert #red hood fanfiction #bodyguard!jason todd x reader #bodyguard!jason todd x singer!reader #Jason Todd x you #jason todd x fem!reader #red hood x you

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haledamage · 5 months

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I am apparently going to be ending 2023 with a vicious migraine, which I think summarizes the year pretty well 😣 I've spent most of this year at war with my own brain.

But I think I've finally got the right weapons to fight it. The improvement the last couple of weeks has been noticeable, and encouraging.

2024 is going to be better. I'm not giving it a choice to be anything else. If it wants to cause problems, it'll have to go through me first.

If next year tries to give you trouble, let me know and I'll teach it a lesson

thank you to everyone reading this, for helping me through the year. especially those of you (you know who you are) who carried me--or at least dragged me along--when I couldn't carry myself

I love you all 💖 Happy New Year

#rhi muses #new years #figuring out medication cocktails has been.....arduous. like trying to align the planets through force alone #but I think it's finally been successful #even with this fucking headache I can *focus* which is. new. and promising

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wongyuuu · 8 months

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midnight regrets | bsk

pairing: seungkwan x f!reader genre: angsty kinda? but also fluff maybe? (drunk confession) word count: 848

this is part of my series, seventeen as songs from lover (ts)

Seungkwan ➝ Death By a Thousand Cuts I get drunk, but it's not enough ’Cause the morning comes and you're not my baby ↳ in which Seungkwan drunk calls you, his ex, and finally tells you all the feelings he kept to himself for months.

The clock on your phone told you it was just past four in the morning. Your insomnia had gotten to you yet again and this time it seemed like it had decided to stay. You did everything you were supposed to, ate better, avoided certain smells and foods that could trigger a migraine that could cause insomnia, but none of it seemed to matter.

In the last couple of days, you only managed to get a total of 5 hours of sleep. It was a wonder in itself that your brain still functioned, poorly of course.

With a groan, you turned on your side. You just wanted to sleep, like a normal person, for a few hours. Was that really too much to ask?

Your phone started to vibrate on your bedside, the blue light suddenly pulling the room out of its complete darkness. No one in their right mind would call you in the middle of the night. Not because you would get angry at them but because no one calls anyone at four in the morning.

Even if the number calling you wasn't saved a contact, it was one you remembered all too well. It was impossible to make your heart stay calm, to keep quiet. But your brain was telling you that there was something wrong.

It had been almost six months since you and Seungkwan broke up. After the final words had been said, you never saw him again. You returned his things to Vernon and he had left yours with your doorman. You stopped following him on social media and deleted his number.

The breakup hadn't been bad, per se. When you finally got down to it, you simply realized that you wanted things that Seungkwan didn't seem willing to give to you.

When you told him that you wanted to break up his only words were "If that's what you really want, I won't do anything to stop you from leaving"

It hurt so much because you felt like he didn't care at all about you and it was clear that your relationship had come to an end way before you finally decided it was time to.

Truthfully, you were still healing and you knew that taking that call was probably a bad idea. But what if something was wrong? What if he was in some kind of trouble?

After taking a deep breath, you accepted the call.

"Hello?"

"You weren't supposed to take the call," he said with a whine, words slurred.

You settled back against the pillows, relief flooding your body. Nothing was wrong, Seungkwan was just drunk.

"Was I not? But you called"

"But you shouldn't have"

You could see him pout, eyes closed, and furrowed eyebrows. You couldn't hold back the smile that spread on your lips.

"Why did you call, Seungkwan?"

There was a pause and a sigh.

Seungkwan always looked cute when drunk, though all of his friends would disagree with you. It was easy to hear to distinguish Vernon's voice saying he called yn and Chan's oh he's drunk drunk.

"I miss you so much" he cried "Did you know that? Every single day I wake up and you're the first person I think about. Sometimes something happens and it's so trivial but I want to call you and tell you about it. And sometimes I wonder where we went wrong and I know isn't an us problem, it was a me problem. It wasn't you because you weren’t perfect for me but I wasn't perfect for you. And I…"

You covered your mouth as if it would be enough to suppress the sound of your small sobs.

"I didn't want perfection, Seungkwan. All I wanted was you"

He whined again, a cry left his mouth and you swear that he fell because the next you heard was Chan's exasperated dude, be careful.

"I should have said something that day but your words hurt me, so I let my pride take over. I should have asked you why, at least. I do know why but maybe if I asked I would have come up with some sort of argument. And then you returned my things to Vernon because you didn't even want to see me. And you unfollowed me everywhere and I bet you deleted my number. Because you always said hi baby, when I called or Seungkwan? if you were worried. I miss you so much and I love you so much. I want to try again, can you give me another chance? Hm?"

Seungkwan wasn't the kind of drunk who couldn't talk, who was hard to understand. His words got a little slurred and he talked a little bit slower but you could understand every single one of them. His desperation was obvious.

"You're all I ever wanted. I'm sorry I can't say it sober"

You closed your eyes. Maybe you would regret your words but you still wanted to try, even if you and Seungkwan were destined to fail.

“If when you wake up you still feel the same way, we can”

taglist: @wonwooz1, @ryuwonieebae, @sobun1est, @mirtaspace, @feat-sun, @wonvsmile, @belladaises, @mhlsymlysn, @immabecreepin, @miriamxsworld, @aaniag , @sofix-hc7, @scarlet789, @moonlightgrleric, @r6njunlv, @mixling-blog, @k-drama-adict

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#k-labels #seventeen imagine #seventeen x reader #seventeen x you #svt x reader #svt imagine #svt x you #seungkwan x reader #boo seungkwan x reader #seungkwan x you #boo seungkwan x you #seungkwan #seventeen fluff #seungkwan imagines #boo seungkwan imagines #boo seungkwan #seungkwan fluff

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