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star-girl69 · 3 months

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Apocalypse

Clarisse La Rue x Fem!Demigod!Reader

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synopsis: a day of capture the flag, and clarisse finds out you’re ashamed of your scars.

a/n: love love love love love also from this ask

Apocalypse - Cigarettes After Sex

warnings: shitty ending but IDC!!!!!!!, hurt/comfort, more hurt/comfort, god i need to be put down, insecure y/n, scars and all that stuff, possessive clarisse, protective clarisse, soft clarisse, probs ooc clarisse, yeah, swearing, mentions of food, mac n’ cheese is y/n’s fav but you can just pretend if you’re a weirdo and don’t like mac n’ cheese, tell me if i missed anything!!

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“I don’t get it,” he laughs. “How can you be a daughter of Aphrodite and still have those ugly scars all over you?”

You pretend like you don’t hear him, leaning your head back against the tree, staring up at the blue sky through the gaps.

Him and his two friends have been teasing you the entire 20 minutes you’ve been tied up to this tree, captured by the blue team.

That was horribly embarrassing, but you were doing your best to ignore it- instead doing your best to pray to whatever God would listen that Clarisse would win for the red team.

It’s just plain stupid. He’s been saying the same thing over and over again for 20 minutes- can he at least come up with something original?

Besides, you don’t see where he gets off from this. It’s not like you give any reaction, or even look at him. The most you give him is the occasional squeeze of your hands- imagining his neck under them.

“Maybe she’s forsaken you,” he hums, kicking at your limp leg.

You finally look up at him. You’re sitting on the ground, arms at your sides, back pressed to the tree and rope digging tightly into your chest.

“Maybe your mother gave up on you after the second scar,” he says, staring straight into your eyes. “And then you’ve just gotten uglier and uglier ever since.”

You have scars all over your body. Clarisse has them too, and she shows them off proudly, a dramatic story for each one. You have a horrible memory, so you don’t remember all of them- but the tiny one on your jawline is from you accidentally tripping with scissors in your hand as a kid.

Clarisse had laughed hysterically when you told her about that one, pulling you closer when you pouted, saying something about how she was going to carry all scissors for you in the future.

The one on your collarbone is from sparring gone awry. Clarisse likes to kiss that one- it’s silvery smooth, she says some bullshit about how it feels like your lips.

The big one on your arm is from some clawed monster getting a bit too close to you- slashing at your arm and leaving a permanent tattoo of your failure to kill the monster. Or at least successfully run away.

Then, there’s all the tiny ones you can’t remember.

The boy, you seriously don’t even know his name, looks at you. There’s fire in his eyes, he wants a fight, but you won’t give him one. Especially not when your stomach squeezes inside of you in a way that makes you feel like you might throw up.

The conch mercifully blows, even as you feel sick- you don’t want to let his words effect you. But you just can’t help it.

He gives you an odd look, like he’s contemplating just leaving you out there- but eventually releases you. You stand up, dusting yourself off, grabbing your sword from where it was discarded on the ground.

“Good game!” you say, smiling brightly, but you can’t even pretend to be nice to him, so it tapers off into a laugh. He glares at you, but you’re already jogging through the woods, eager to see Clarisse again.

—-

The blue flag waves proudly above a sea of orange camp t-shirts and red helmets, so you smile widely and skip down to the beach. Your team has formed this huge pit of people, everyone congratulating each other, shouting and celebrating. You stick your sword in the sand as you head into it- one person on your mind.

“Clarisse!” you shout, heading straight towards the middle. “Clarisse!”

She actually rips apart two people hugging to meet you.

“Baby!” she says, even when the two people give her dirty looks, pushing past them and into your arms. “We won!” she giggles, kissing your cheek.

“I know,” you smile, digging your face into her neck. She holds you there for just a moment, hand on the back of your head, relishing in the feeling of her girlfriend running to her after a long day.

“Are you tired?” she fusses, squeezing your waist. “What happened? Did you get hurt? I knew I should have made you stay with me-”

“No, Clar,” you laugh, taking your face out of the hiding spot that is her neck and pressing your noses together. “I got captured,” you sigh.

Her fingers wind through your hair.

She scans the crowd, like she might just beat up any random member of the blue team.

“If they don’t learn to not fucking touch you I am going to make them learn.”

“Guard dog,” you tease her.

“And?” she says, leaning down to kiss the scar she loves kissing, right at the beginning of your collarbone. It makes you freeze. “You love it,” she mumbles against your skin.

You can’t think of an answer.

When you stay silent, she looks up at you, confusion in her face.

“What? You look… sad. Did something happen? What aren’t you telling me?”

“N-nothing,” you breathe, because it’s just embarrassing to know you let his words get to you like this.

“You can tell me anything,” she says, searching your eyes.

“I know.”

The conch blows, making you jump at the sudden loud noise. “Lunch!” someone shouts, and Clarisse settles for just grabbing your hand, walking with you back to camp.

—-

You stop by your cabins first, taking off your armor and switching into clean camp shirts. You hesitate for a second, but eventually put on a thin long-sleeved shirt under the orange.

You take extra care in reapplying your makeup, making sure to cover the scar on your collarbone and your jaw, and once everything is as covered as it’s gonna get you set out.

Clarisse is waiting for you outside the Aphrodite cabin, smiling as you open the door, applying lipstick with one hand. She grabs your hand and helps you down the steps, admiring the way you’re so intensely focused on getting the perfect lip, even without a mirror.

It’s not like you have to try very hard, but still.

“I don’t mind waiting a second longer,” she says, bringing you closer by the waist as you tube the lipstick and stick it in your pocket.

“You’re a hungry demon after capture the flag.”

“Yeah,” she says, not really trying to deny it.

You smile and lean against her, pressing a short kiss to your lips.

“Oh, do I look pretty now?” she asks, rubbing in the lipstick that came off onto her lips.

“Always,” you smile.

Her eyes focus in on the green sleeves pulled up to your wrists.

“It’s, like, 100 degrees, baby. You’re gonna boil.”

You frown and shake your head. “No, it’s not that bad. I’m cold.”

She looks at you oddly, but seems to begrudgingly accept it, hand against your forehead as she brushes your hair back. You make it into the buffet style line for lunch, grabbing plates, Clarisse quickly piling hers with a cheeseburger and a hot dog, making you laugh.

“You’re so hungry, all the time,” you mutter when she gives you a dirty look.

“I work out all the time,” she glares. She flexes her arm. “All of this takes a lot of work.”

You stare at her muscles peeking out from just under her sleeves, biting your lip as you quickly look away. She smiles brightly.

“Uh huh, that’s what I thought. You love these muscles, don’t judge me.”

You make your way down the line, scanning the trays of food.

“Ooh,” Clarisse coos, “They have your fave, pretty thing.”

She scoops probably the biggest portion of mac n’ cheese you’ve ever seen in your life, slapping it onto your plate with a smile.

You gape at the now almost empty tray, remembering the still long line behind you. Hopefully there’s another one somewhere.

“Clarisse, we should save some for everyone else.”

She seems actually confused by that statement.

“Uh, yeah, no. My girl gets the best.”

“Clarisse-” but you’ve reached the end of the line and she heads off to a table. You follow her, begrudgingly, because you really do covet this mac n’ cheese like it’s ambrosia.

—-

By the time the night rolls around, you’ve retreated into the blankets of your bed, feeling much safer completely covered up. You’re supposed to be going to the bonfire- all of your siblings have come over and bugged you at least once about going, but you’ve refused them all.

Finally, all of your siblings leave in their pretty but revealing outfits- after today, you don’t think you could ever wear something like that again.

The door to your cabin creaks open.

“Y/N?”

You make a mumbled sound in the back of your throat that’s supposed to resemble “I’m here” but Clarisse is already walking over to you and pulling the blanket off of you.

“Silena told me you were staying back. Why?”

You pull the blanket back up over yourself.

“I’m jus’ tired.”

“Okay…” she says, sitting down on the bed. She puts her warm hand to your forehead. “Are you sick? Do you have a headache?”

“No, Clar, I’m fine.”

“I’m confused,” she huffs. “You love the bonfires. Something is obviously wrong, why won’t you tell me?”

“I’m just tired, Clarisse, that’s all.”

“Fine,” she says. “I can be tired too.”

She kicks off her shoes and climbs into bed with you, under the blankets, chest pressed against your back.

“I’m not good at this. You know that,” she sighs after a second. “And I wish I was. But I do know something’s wrong. And I really don’t know for the life of me what it is, but I really want to know. I really want to help you.”

She traces her fingertips up and down your arms, tracing over the silvery scar from the monster- and you involuntarily jerk away.

“Oh,” she says. She’s painfully observant. She notices everything. She notices you pulling away when she touches your scars. “Your scars.”

Tears well in your eyes before you can stop them.

“W-when I got captured, this boy kept teasing me. And I tried not to let it bother me, I tried not to give him a reaction… but I just- what if I’m not worthy of my mother anymore? It’s embarrassing. I know. But I…”

“Who the fuck said that to you?”

She sits up, eyes blazing, like she can just imagine it and whoever hurt you will suddenly feel her wrath.

You turn around so you’re facing her, laughing.

“I don’t even know his stupid name,” you mutter.

She looks down at you, at the tears spilling from your pretty eyes.

“I’ll kill him later,” she mumbles, settling back down and kissing the corner of your cheek. “He doesn’t know what he’s talking about, baby. You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen in my entire life. I’ve never met your mother, of course, so I can say that without getting us both struck down by doves, or something.”

You swat her chest.

“I’ll kill you with doves, watch me.”

She hums. “Probably. Okay, stop. You’re getting me off topic.”

You roll your eyes.

“I’m not good with my words,” she whispers. “But I hope I show you everyday that you are the only woman I have eyes for. This is, like, really embarrassing… but I’ve planned out our entire lives together. We’re gonna go to to college in Arizona by my mom, we’ll have an apartment off-campus, and after we graduate we’ll get married. I really wanna be married to you. And I don’t care if that’s cheesy, I just really want you to look at the ring I’ll give you and be able to feel all my love. Besides, if you ever want to get away from me, it’ll be a hell of a lot harder.”

“I would never wanna get away from you, Clar,” you smile. “It’s not embarrassing. I wanna go to college in Arizona. I wanna marry you.”

“Good, because you didn’t really have a choice,” she smiles.

“And you’re plenty good with your words.”

“Yeah… okay, I guess. But let me show you, too.”

“What does that even-”

She shuts you up by kissing your lips.

“I love your lips. I love how soft they are, and how they feel so perfect against me.”

She kisses your cheek.

“I like your cheeks for the same reasons.”

Your temple, your forehead, your nose.

“Same reasons,” she smiles.

Finally she ends up at your jawline. She rubs over the scar, taking concealer and foundation with the pad of her thumb.

“And I love this scar. It looks kind of like a C, so everyone knows you’re mine.”

“Freak,” you huff, and she doesn’t have to say it. You both know you love it.

She kisses your neck and talks about how she loves the way you get mad at her for leaving hickeys, the dedication you pour into covering them up before you eventually decide it’s too much effort and let them show.

She kisses the scar on your collarbone.

“I like putting my head here, right under your chin. I can feel your pulse. I can hear you swallow, too, which is weird but also soothing.”

She kisses from your shoulder and down to your arm, skimming past the scar. She kisses the back of your hand and your fingertips.

“I love it when you braid my hair, or just put your hands in my hair for… other reasons.”

“Freak,” you mumble again. “You’re just obsessed with kissing me.”

“True,” she hums, kissing back up to your scar. “I don’t have anything poetic to say about this one. It’s just fucking badass. I mean, you got it when you were 12- you survived what most have been something truly monstrous to leave a scar like this, and that’s all you get? Most of the kids here would have died. Even the ones our age. And you escaped when you were only 12.”

You smile like a lovesick fool. The apocalypse could be going on outside, and you would just be here with Clarisse.

“In conclusion, your beauty is actually life changing. I mean, have you seen me? I become a total softie, just for you. And it’s all because I like seeing that pretty smile on your gorgeous face. But you frown pretty, too, which I didn’t even know was possible- so I win either way.”

You smile and put your hand on her face, kissing her softly.

“Thank you, Clar. For always taking care of me, and reassuring me…”

“It’s quite literally my job,” she smiles. “I wouldn’t trust anyone else to do it.”

“You don’t even trust me, Little Miss Makes-My-Plate-For-Me.”

She laughs and presses her head under your chin, her hair tickling your skin, pressing a kiss to your scar.

“It’s my job,” she smiles. “As your girlfriend and future wife.”

“I love you, Clarisse,” you whisper, a secret just for the two of you. Nothing can have you here. No pain, no suffering.

“I love you too,” she says. “I love you so much, my beautiful, beautiful girl.”

—-

the kid who bullied you walking around with a big ass scar on his cheek the next day 😍😍😍😍😍 no….. no clarisse did not cut him with her spear….. ofc not….

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taglist:

@lvrue @t-wylia @laughingcheese037 @kroumi @urdeadpoet @colezb @rey26 @harmzilla @elliewilliamsbae @amberfreemansburntface @kyuupidwrites @neverwaakeme-up @shark1008 @liballer @heyimadison @nvirskies @pnsteblnme @mar2ss @restellsss @ravisinghs-wife @marsconer @evangelinexo @randomhoex @luvrrish

#clarisse la rue #clarisse la rue x reader #clarisse la rue x y/n #clarisse la rue x you #pjo tv show #pjo x reader

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mokulule · 3 months

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A Pinch of Salt - Part 4

First | Masterpost

The final part of the first installment of the Salt in the Bones series which is a project co-created with @clockwayswrites, you can see the other stuff written for it in the masterpost link above or go to the first part.

John looked at the kid, who just stepped inside the fucking binding circle. His mouth fell open in shock.

“What is wrong with you!?” It wasn’t so much a question as it was an exclamation, and John didn’t wait for any answer. “Of all the sodding, daft, goddamn tossers - what were you bloody thinking? No, you weren’t thinking. Otherwise you wouldn’t have fucking done that. You DO NOT go into the blasted circle!”

“Are you done?”

“Am I-“ John spluttered.

Are you done? He asked, as if John was the unreasonable one here! “Oh you’re right chuffed, aren’t you mate? Well, you cocked up, you’re about to be banished right alongside the storm, you little git!”

“Then stop the banishing or banish us both. It’s your choice.” Kid stood, back straight, jaw clenched stubbornly and a frown over those wide blue eyes. His hair and clothes whipped violently from the storm, but he didn’t care, just kept his eyes on John.

John raised his hands in frustration, words dying on his tongue. It would serve him right!

It would serve him right; he stepped into the bloody circle. It wasn’t John’s fault. Everything was going fine for once and maybe that should have been John’s warning. Whatever was up with the kid he apparently had a soft spot for ghosts - even after John had told him several times that the spirit was gone. It’d gone nova. No coming back. The end. It would continue it’s rampage until it burned out. It would hurt and destroy indiscriminately.

And yet he still-

It would serve him right to get sent to Hell alongside it. It wouldn’t even be the first time someone John worked with got sent to Hell for their trouble. John Constantine was bad luck for everyone around him. It happened.

But it was different when John held the reins of the spell that did it, when he had the choice to stop it.

Still John was at his wits end. If he stopped the banishing, the kid was still trapped in the circle with the spectral storm. If he broke the circle they were back at square one except they were in the center of the storm’s power and it was even angrier.

It was easier, safer, to just continue the banishing. Kid had made his stupid arse decision. John wasn’t a good person. He did what was necessary. Ends and means and all that.

But he was a bloody kid - a teenager - they were basically obligated to do stupid shit. Didn’t mean he deserved to get sent to Hell for it. John had seen and done a lot of shit, but when it came right down to it he didn’t want to add sending a kid to Hell.

John had seen enough dead kids to last him a lifetime.

“Oh bollocks.” John let his arms fall and cut the feed to the banishing spell, wincing slightly at the backlash. “You better have a plan kid.”

The kid had to have some sort of abilities with that aura, maybe all hope was not lost? The kid grimaced and John’s forced optimism crumbled like so much sand.

“I-“ the kid winced as something in the storm hit the back of his head. He rubbed the spot, and looked almost apologetic, “I figured I’d try talking to them.”

John stared.

And stared.

“Or-“ the kid backtracked, “just calm them down somehow?”

“You cannot ‘calm down’ a spectral storm!” John felt like a broken record on repeat. “It’s impossible.”

He threw up his hands and walked exactly three steps away counting his breaths all the while wracking his brain for a different solution. There weren’t any good ones. Heck it was a miracle the kid hadn’t already been torn to pieces being inside the circle.

“We’re dead,” he lamented dramatically.

“Half-dead.”

John’s head snapped around at the weird response.

“I mean,” the kid tried for a smile, “I’m the only one in the circle.”  John stared in despair. The kid’s sense of humor needed serious work.

“I’m not gonna leave you in the bloody circle, kid.”

Danny stood struck wide eyed at the admission. That was- He didn’t know how to deal with that. There was a pang in his chest. He felt too open, too vulnerable. He swallowed before finding his voice.

“Just let me try something, okay?”

Danny turned around to face the center of the storm, he instantly had to squeeze his eyes near shut, from all the dust. Instinctively he took a breath and coughed. Okay breathing not good. Too bad he was human right now.

He had to get closer, closer to that screaming grief. He might be human right now, but he was also a ghost and the anger from earlier was just a thin veneer on top of grief on top of a cry for help. He felt it in his core like scrabbling hands desperately looking for purchase.

He took a step forward, hands up to shield his face, pushing against the wind. Another step. Then another.

How was he gonna calm them down?

Danny didn’t know. He knew fighting. He’d even sometimes recently had luck with talking. But this? It was way beyond talking, until they were calm there would be no such thing. Danny didn’t know what to do. He could only press on and hope an idea came to him.

The grief was stronger the closer he got to the center, it tore into him. Tears trickled down his cheeks and turned into gunk from the dust. Something sharp cut into his bare arms. Danny frowned, kept his head down and pushed forward.

Another step and the grief sunk sharp claws into his core. He screamed clutching his chest and gasping for breath that would do nothing. But the claws were gone as soon as they’d come, retreated as if they’d touched fire.

“Are you alright kid?!”

Danny spared a quick glance back to Trenchcoat who stood all the way up to the edge of the circle, face white as if he’d seen a ghost. Danny couldn’t help smiling at that. Something that alarmed Trenchcoat even further.

“I’m breaking the circle.”

“Don’t,” Danny coughed clearing his throat.

Danny looked back up, squinting through the swirling dust. It may not be visible, but something had changed. There was still the anger and grief, but something else too. A sense of waiting. Waiting to see what Danny would do. They had tried tearing him, the trespasser, apart down to his core, but in doing so they had felt him. They had felt his intention to help and retreated.

Trenchcoat was wrong, there was still a sentience there. Danny found himself grinning in triumph.

But even better Danny had an idea. His core vibrated giddily in his chest. He was a bit sore, but otherwise none the worse for wear. He just needed to reach out and connect with the ghost, he felt sure he could calm them. He just he needed a distraction, he didn’t need Trenchcoat to realize he was the one doing anything ghostly. He wracked his brain, something that made noise, drew attention, was maybe a bit ridiculous, but didn’t take much of his attention from the real work-

That was it!

“Twinkle-“ his voice broke on the first word but gained strength as he continued- “twinkle little star,” Danny sang. He didn’t need to look back to see the incredulous look on Trenchcoat’s face.

He kept singing, he knew that song by heart. His mom used to sing it to him, back when she actually put him to bed. There was a stab of melancholy, but Danny clutched on to the positive aspect of the memory and reached out with his core, its hum getting stronger.

It’s okay, he told the ghost, help. Safe. Peace. Calm.

He took step by step further into the calming storm. And all the while he sung them a lullaby.

John stared.

Then he stared some more. He was doing a lot of staring today.

He couldn’t believe what he was seeing, what he was hearing.

The kid was was singing a lullaby to the spectral storm. And that wasn’t even the most baffling thing. No, the kid was singing a lullaby to the spectral storm and it was bloody working.

The storm gradually calmed until suddenly it was gone. The silence was loud in the sudden emotional void. John staggered from the sudden lack of pressure. All that malice gone in an instant. All that was left was a gently cupped ball of light in the kids hands.

“There you are,” the kid said softly in a slightly scratchy voice.

John couldn’t believe what he was witnessing. It was impossible and yet here they were.

There was a flash of light and suddenly they stood in a house. Built brick by brick by two pairs of hands. Children ran through the rooms. They grew up. They had kids of their own, who had kids of their own. They lived and they loved and they were protected.

Then they were gone.

The door shut for the last time. The house was empty.

A large metal ball slammed through the walls, spreading dust and splintering the doorframe that had measured the growth of generations. It was torn down.

It had stood here, right in what would be the plaza.

The translucent shade of an old women, bent and bony from a life of hard work, hovered in front of the kid. She warbled sadly at him. John couldn’t understand anything but the deep sadness, but it seemed the kid did.

“It’s okay,” he said embracing the spirit, somehow managing to do so despite her definitely not being solid. “You’ve done your best, nobody could ask more of you.”

He paused and his voice softened further, “it’s time to let go.”

The old lady looked over at John and gave him a stern look that had him frozen in place. She was the type of grandma that would wack his fingers if she caught him going for the cookie jar. He wasn’t entirely sure what the look he got meant. Only that it felt like an admonishment.

She looked back on the kid and her features softened, smoothed and in the next moment she turned to mist in his arms, dispersing in the waning light coming from the overhead windows.

John couldn’t entirely believe what he’d just witnessed. Calling a spirit back once they’d gone nova, it was impossible. Unheard of. Banishment was how you dealt with spirits like that. It was a tried and tested method. Yet-

John shivered.

Death magic. It was the only explanation.

The kid reeked of it, to the point John had thought he was the ghost he was here to deal with. He’d thought he was some kind of creature, but he was just a kid. A kid with a very specific magical affinity who’d just done the impossible. He was filled with a sense of awe and dread he couldn’t quite put his finger on.

He felt shaken. Like he’d stood right next to a bell who’d been rung to herald change.

John was no prophet, at most he’d get vague premonitions and he far preferred to be in the moment rather then dwell on the future or the past. He most definitely did not want to even contemplate this kid’s future. He swallowed.

Magic, in John’s experience, always came with a cost.

The kid promptly sat down on his butt. John had broken the circle and was running over before he even realized.

“You okay, kid?” He asked breathlessly.

The kid looked up, eyes a bit dazed as he blinked at John. John couldn’t really tell if his complexion was grey or it was just the dust covering every inch of him. Several places, particularly his hands, the dust was dark from blood where he’d been cut in the storm. He looked unfocused.

“How many occult detectives are you seeing?” He asked unable to hide the note of worry.

“Too many,” Kid said tiredly with a shake of his head that had cement dust falling all over. Then he looked back up and elaborated with a smirk, “one.”

John huffed a laugh. If he could joke he couldn’t be that bad off.

“How does burgers and fries sound?”

The kid now dusted off to the point where you could almost tell his hair was black rather than grey sunk his teeth into the burger with a pleased hum. He chewed and swallowed.

“This is almost as good as Nasty Burger.”

John paused fry halfway to his mouth. “That sounds disgusting.”

Kid laughed. “I forget how it sounds to outsiders. It used to be Tasty Burger way back when they first opened, but someone vandalized the sign and it kinda stuck.”

John hummed thoughtfully, he could appreciate the joke. Kid’s use of the phrase outsiders made it sound like he came from an insular town. Probably best for him if he stayed there.

“What’s your name, kid?”

Instantly the blue eyes narrowed on him in suspicion.

“What’s yours, Trenchcoat?” He challenged.

John huffed at the nickname and reached a hand across the table. “John Constantine.”

The kid looked suspiciously at the offered hand, then reached out and took it. “Nightingale.”

John nodded and shook his hand before letting go. Smart of him to give him a codename, he wasn’t apparently completely without sense. “Because of the singing.”

For a moment the kid looked confused to the point where John actually thought maybe he’d given him his real name.

“Singing? Ah-“ He blushed looking down and rubbed the back of his neck in embarrassment. “No, that just seemed like a good idea at the time.”

John shook his head, fuck it if he didn’t like the kid. He picked up his milkshake and raised it. He tilted his head and raised an eyebrow.

“If it works…”

The kid, Nightingale, grinned ferally and raised his own shake to clink it against John’s.  “If it works.”

After filling up the near bottomless stomach of the teenager, they parted ways in an alley. John’s mind was already on his next case - people going missing in a forest in Germany that had a distinct this-is-not-just-a-GPS-dead-zone flavor to it - so he only absently noted the strange look on the kid’s face when he opened the portal. It was morning in Germany, he could start looking into things before calling the House for a proper sleep.

“Take care, kid.”

With those words he stepped into the portal and let it close behind him.

Danny was left looking at the portal. He shook his head, jaw tight. With real magic apparently portals were just easy. It didn’t do him any good to think about. He glanced around and when he found the alley just as empty as before he jumped into the air transforming as he went.

There were better things to think about, like the concept of an occult detective, he thought as he flew in the direction of Amity. It sounded like it could almost be an acceptable profession in his parents’ eyes.

And it probably didn’t require good high school grades either, he thought with a grimace as he remembered he had an essay due tomorrow.

Hope you enjoyed this story which explored how Danny and Constantine first met in this AU. Next step is letting it sit for a while, then do a thorough editing and putting it up on ao3 as a oneshot. (And then maybe talk to Clock about starting writing on the main story proper? We'll see). Comments are greatly appreciated :D

Another link to the masterpost if you wanna see the other bits of writing and/or subscribe to the series

#a pinch of salt #salt in the bones #danny and constantine #dysfunctional found family FTW #dp x dc

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legally-allowed-to-slime · 5 months

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The last few people had logged off the server, leaving it in its burnt, damaged state.

She knew where Gem would be.

Cleo scaled up the ladder and clambered up to the rickety roof of Joel’s tower — where you could look out on the entire server.

Sure enough, Gem was perched on the railing, sitting on the edge with nothing to support her but the wind, staring in the direction of the Secret Keeper.

Cleo looked around at the short cobble walls. Grian had told her that he’d hid away here. Not a bad strategy, overall. You could shut yourself here and forget everywhere else existed.

“Hey, Cleo.”

“Am I that loud?” Cleo joked weakly.

“Who else?”

Cleo watched as the last remains of the green flesh flaked off Gem’s skin, leaving her regular human tones. “No more zombies now, then? Good job, anyway. Killing people left and right.”

“Not you, though.”

“Not me. Only way I’m going out is my way. I’d rather die on my own stupidity than someone else’s callousness.” Cleo allowed a hint of pride to enter her voice. “You were great zombies, though.”

“We weren’t zombies.” Gem turned and hopped down from the railing.

Cleo noticed that unlike the other zombies, or even Scott or Grian, Gem didn’t have a single scratch or injury, save one neat bandage that no doubt was due to Scar’s reckless arrows.

Which meant the blood splattering her face wasn’t her own. “What do you mean?”

“That’s not how zombies work. No offence, Cleo, but most zombies aren’t sentient.”

Cleo blinked. “No worries, I know they aren’t. I kill plenty of them at night.”

“So you should know how they work. They’re mindless. They lurch along, they kill without thinking, they probably bump into trees.”

Gem tilted her head. “They don’t set TNT traps, or betray their teammates, or ask for permission to kill their wife’s perceived murderer.”

Cleo’s mouth was dry. “So you’re saying…”

“I’m saying the apocalypse wasn’t zombies, Cleo. It was human.”

Horribly, incredibly human.

Cleo remembered when they were up on the tower, staring at the others down below, condemning them as monsters.

Somehow, it was better to think of them as a mindless horde and not people she’d been laughing and arguing with a session ago.

Gem was watching her. “You know I’m right. Look at Pearl. Was running from us, convinced we were infected or something but once she realised she had permission to kill, she went in. Even unleashed a warden, or two. That’s how quickly we switch.”

Ironically, Cleo realised, the roles had been swapped this session. The humans were chasing the zombie, but it hadn’t been any different.

“That’s not true,” Cleo said, “It’s not all bad. Did you know, Grian snuck down from this tower to check on his magma pet, and I was there too. And so was Etho. He didn’t kill us.”

Irritation flashed across Gem’s face. “He didn’t kill you? If he had, or, like, told us your location or something, we could’ve all just gone after Scott, and, and, the task would’ve succeeded…”

She trailed off, and looked at Cleo. “Is that the point you’re trying to make here?”

Cleo shrugged.

“Alright, I get it,” Gem grumbled, “No need to rub your holier-than-thou alliance and great morals in my face.”

“Well, no one asked you to put your task over your bandmates.”

Gem didn’t say anything to that.

“It’s not as if I’m exactly a paragon of morality either.” Cleo continued.

“I guess not.” Gem gave a short laugh. “Neither am I. You know, all the murder and stuff? I don’t feel bad! In fact, I feel great. I feel proud of myself for it.”

“…I feel you should be a little less bloodthirsty.”

Gem smiled at Cleo, an innocent, cheerful smile that would have been such if not for the circumstances. “Oh, no.”

Cleo was suddenly feeling very unsafe on the highest platform on the server. She wished Etho was here, or even Grian.

She knew Gem couldn’t take any lives, not now, not when the session was already over. But still…

Cleo raised her sword to stop the axe swing that came, but it was a feint, and her sword hit nothing.

Gem dramatically swung her axe back into her inventory.

“You really thought I would attack you?” Gem said.

“I don’t see why you wouldn’t,” Cleo retorted curtly.

“That’s true,” Gem conceded. “But the curse is just so- it’s so freeing, Cleo? Can’t you see? You could do anything.”

“Uh- no thanks. Session’s over, anyway,” Cleo pointed out.

“That’s true. But I’m still kinda cursed, you know.”

In response, Cleo warily raised her sword. But all that Gem did was deliver a mock salute before logging off with a chirpy “See you next week!”

Cleo stood silently. There had been one zombie on the platform just now. Her.

And thinking about it, she wasn’t sure if there hadn’t been two.

#concept: gem is simply evil #god forbid women do anything #oh no this story turned into that are humans good/evil thing again #that’s great i don’t care #geminitay #zombiecleo #gem centric but i did put in some cleo stuff because etho sparing his allies was so woahwhaha #secret life fanfic #secret life #secret life smp #life series #trafficblr

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paintingwhiteceilings · 8 months

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❃Seventeen and s/o switches languages during an argument❃

a/n: Firstly, thank you for sending my very first request; I hope I did it justice! After discussing it together, we decided to make it a more general prompt. This was such a fun prompt to try my hand at, as a fellow EU carat, it was amusing to imagine how they would react to their partner switching languages. Some of these may have become a bit, more like very, long as a result so, well, grab your popcorn I suppose :')

Anyway, it is a bit longer and more serious than my other posts but I hope that you will like it regardless!

TG: some of these are slightly angsty and DK is naked

Scoups/Seungcheol

❀ In all fairness, the two of you tend to bicker every now and then, mostly because Coups is the pettiest and poutiest person alive. As a result, you tend to be quite used to having irrelevant arguments with him. Neither of you gets incredibly upset; the arguments are mostly harmless and, at times, can be quite amusing.

❀ This time, however, you had quite a stressful day at work and were in no mood to playfully bicker with him. Apparently, you had absent mindlessly borrowed one of his jackets, and he had been missing it all day, giving Hoshi an earful as he believed he had gone out of his way to borrow his stuff again. After he discovered that Hoshi hadn't been the culprit, he texted you, but in the chaos of work, you had forgotten to reply, leaving him on read. Truly, in his eyes, how incredibly offensive. How can his love, his light, his everything leave him on read just like his members do???

❀ Cue a ton of whining and pouting when you walked through the door, wrapped in his precious jacket. He didn't seem to get the hint that you were in no mood for his dramatic antics. It didn't take long for you to snap at him, effectively shutting him up. He didn’t shut up, however, because you actually got angry at him, but because you unconsciously switched to your native tongue in your exhaustion. He had forgotten that was a thing you could do.

❀ He has dealt with the foreign line switching languages during arguments enough to know that you weren't having his tantrum. It is enough for him to realize to knock it off, but he will be pouting the rest of the evening. Not because he is still upset about the jacket, but because he has no idea what you said and he is too prideful to ask until the next morning.

Jeonghan

❀ Jeonghan rarely gets mad at people, meaning that arguments between the two of you tend to be infrequent. The only times the two of you tend to bicker is when he finds yet another way to cheat during game nights. The cheating is all in good fun, and more often than not, you find yourself impressed with his quick-wittedness.

❀ That being said, losing five times in a row because your boyfriend found another loophole in the game rules really tested your patience. You had been playing Uno together when he decided that whenever he plays the reverse card, it means he gets to go again. Somehow, he stocked up on a ton of reverse cards, and he had been getting rid of most of his cards without you being able to do anything about it.

❀ Naturally, you started arguing with him, trying to convince him that it was against the rules. It was no use; he knows the rules better than you do. Thus, in the heat of the moment, you couldn’t help yourself, and you cursed at him in your native tongue. He was mighty confused for a second, but was aware from looking at your face that you were not complimenting his quick thinking.

❀ He ended up laughing at you, finding it hilarious that he somehow managed to trigger you that much. Be prepared for him to never let you live it down. Every game night, he will cheekily ask you whether it is okay for him to cheat or whether you will curse at him in your native tongue again. From now on, he will up his cheating antics as well, trying to get a rise out of you again.

Joshua

❀ You and Joshua usually don't let your grievances get to a shouting match. Before it can get to that point, one of you sits the other down to calmly talk things out. However, every once in a while, whenever one of you is stressed about something, things tend to escalate. So when Joshua comes home late after a gruelling recording session for the sixth time that week, leaving you to do all the house chores after a stressful work day yet again, you get into a heated argument.

❀ Neither of you wanted to admit to being in the wrong, leading to you bickering back and forth. Joshua had been angrily smiling at you for the past half an hour, trying to explain his side of the story, whilst you were trying to do the same. Arguing in Korean wasn't necessarily your strong suit, and despite English being a lot easier, you couldn't help but switch to your native language as you were trying to find the right words to explain your side of the story.

❀ To be honest, I can't really imagine Joshua being surprised when you switch languages during an argument. Having lived in an environment where he has to speak a second language constantly, he probably is all too aware that when people get emotional, they switch to their mother tongue. He has had too many quarrels and fights with the other members where he kept throwing in English, unable to remember the corresponding Korean word.

❀ Instead, your argument becomes a poly-lingual discussion where the two of you keep switching between all the languages you are familiar with. Joshua doesn't even blink when you switch to your native language anymore; he is used to deciphering what you are saying through context clues.

Jun

❀ Jun is an absolute homebody. He loves to lounge on the couch for hours with his phone in hand, playing mobile games and scrolling on social media. It is the perfect way for him to de-stress after his busy schedule, where he has to constantly be on the move. Usually, you enjoy the domesticity of it, but lately, you can't help but feel like all the two of you have been doing is staying at home. It isn’t like you constantly want to be out and about, but a part of you wants to go on a proper date where you get to dress up and be lovey-dovey with your boyfriend. You have been trying to find the right time to bring it up, aware that Jun doesn’t do well with subtle hints.

❀ However, when the day finally came where you asked him to go on more dates, it ended up in you two fighting. It had all started when you found yourself bored out of your mind with Jun being on his phone again, absorbed in his own world. For the first time in a while, he got to enjoy a bit of a break as promotions had finally ended, and he intended to spend most of it relaxing on the couch. It was a much-needed break from the constant dancing and travelling. Naturally, when you proposed to go out for the day, asking whether he wanted to check out a café that had just opened up in the city, he immediately responded that he didn’t want to.

❀ Perhaps both of your fuses had been short that day, and soon an argument ensued between you two. Jun stubbornly maintained that he wanted to rest and that being at home together was enough for him, whilst you tried to explain that you felt like he didn’t want to make time for your relationship. The two of you argued back and forth, both making valid arguments but unwilling to hear the other out.

❀ Jun was already mixing some Mandarin with his Korean as he got more and more frustrated. It didn’t help either that Jun had started to speak quicker the more agitated he got, making it even harder for you to decipher what he was trying to say. Thus, as the fight reached a boiling point, you started to yell at him in your native language. Jun had never heard you speak your mother tongue at length before, so you completely caught him off guard.

❀ Jun doesn't know what to say in response to your yelling, not knowing what you yelled at him in the heat of the moment. Similarly, you are surprised at your emotional outburst. You switching languages is enough for the both of you to realize that neither of you was listening to the other anymore. After a moment of silence, the two of you decide to leave the argument for the night and calmly talk about it after a good night's sleep.

Hoshi/Soonyoung

❀ Hoshi has been trying to convince you that his native language is growling, being a tiger, and all that. As much as you try to support your boyfriend’s tiger agenda, you have attempted to dissuade him from growling at you constantly as a way of communicating. You gently told him to stop as, first of all, you can't understand what he is trying to say when he is growling, and, secondly, it is very embarrassing when he does it in public.

❀ Still, he is waiting to find any excuse to growl at you, and you have noticed that whenever you slip into your mother tongue, he sees it as a green light to start. As a result, you try to be extra careful about using your native language around him in public or when other people are visiting. At home, you feel comfortable enough to, at the very least, scold him without anyone else having to bear witness to how shameless this man can be.

❀ It had all gone downhill when you and Hoshi organized a game night with the other members. It wasn't the actual game night that resulted in you yelling at him. Oh no, it had to do with the fact that Kwon Soonyoung has the habit of leaving the toilet seat up despite you having asked, on multiple occasions, whether he could lower it after he finished his business. For the past few days, he had been doing a good job remembering, but with all the excitement of the game night, it had slipped his mind. He was reminded, however, of his mistake upon hearing a splash and a blood-curdling scream leave the bathroom door.

❀ You were livid upon entering the living room and reminded your boyfriend yet again to lower the god-damn thing. In your anger, you slipped into your native tongue without being aware of doing so. You didn't even register it until you saw Hoshi's stunned and guilty expression morph into one of absolute delight.

❀ He growls. At you. In response.

❀ It is safe to say that the other members have to hold you back before you kill your boyfriend.

Wonwoo

❀ Usually, you loved having a gamer boyfriend as it meant that you got to focus on your own hobbies, happily existing in the same space without having to constantly have to do things together. Lately, however, you had been trying your hand at some of the games he had been playing. It was a fun pastime, and you especially liked games that didn’t require a fast reaction time, allowing you to explore a world or story at your own pace without it resulting in you constantly dying. Not to pat yourself on the back, but you had become quite skilled at the games you often played. Recently, you and Wonwoo had even started to play games together; you couldn’t help but smile whenever you saw your joined beds in Minecraft.

❀ So, when Wonwoo asked you to play Keep Talking & Nobody Explodes together, you had expected the two of you to do rather well. However, it couldn’t be further from what ended up transpiring. The game required seamless communication, with one person trying to disarm a bomb whilst the other consulted a manual on how to, unable to see the actual bomb. The first level had been easy enough, but you guys immediately got stuck on the second level. Each level was more complicated than the last one and was making your way through the game rather painfully slow. For some reason, your communication was completely off, resulting in numerous retries. It didn’t even matter who the operator or who the bomb disarmer was; you simply couldn’t get into sync.

❀ You could tell that Wonwoo was getting incredibly agitated when you were taking way too long to read the Korean instructions to him, unable to understand one particular word, causing the bomb to explode yet again. He had played the game with some of the members before, and it hadn’t been this hard. It didn’t help that he kept trying to give you tips and tricks on how to play the game. It felt a bit condescending. Moreover, you could tell he was partly blaming your Korean when he sighed yet again at another failed attempt due to you fumbling over your words. It wasn’t as if this was only your fault. As a result, you snapped at him that he should try to play in your native tongue and see how easy of a time he had with it. Except, you accidentally snapped at him in the wrong language.

❀ As you continue rambling under your breath, venting to yourself that your boyfriend and the game are both stupid, you don’t notice that you switched languages. Wonwoo, in the meantime, has fallen incredibly quiet, unsure how to react. He realizes that it might have been a bit unfair to play a game that requires you to communicate complicated instructions in Korean. When you are finally done ranting in your native language, he will quietly propose playing a different game, muttering a quiet apology when you two agree to switch to Stardew Valley. He makes sure to give you lots of gifts in-game, trying to show that he appreciates you playing with him even if it doesn’t always work out well.

Woozi/Jihoon

❀ You were aware that when you started dating Woozi that he was a bit of a workaholic and that there would be times when he would prioritize his work over your relationship. For the most part, you loved his dedication to producing music; you enjoyed hanging out in his studio, watching how he expertly produced a new track. You always felt in awe as you watched him tinker on the piano, trying to figure out what chords to use for the song. In turn, he loved having you there; your questions and curiosity reminded him of the wonder he felt when he first started producing.

❀ However, his passion for making music sometimes did make you feel like a third wheel in your relationship, especially when a Seventeen comeback was nearing. He would be cooped up in the studio for weeks, ignoring all the messages you send him. Where he normally loved having you around in the studio, he would become easily agitated with you watching over his shoulder as the deadlines neared. The expectations of the members and the company would weigh heavily on him, and having you be there as another watchful eye was simply too much for him to handle.

❀ So, when you went to the studio after a concerned Coups had called you, noticing that Woozi hadn’t bothered to eat that day, your presence put Woozi over the edge. It had been a couple of weeks since you had last seen your boyfriend, and you had hoped that seeing you would cheer him up. However, he barely acknowledged your presence when you stepped into the studio, his attention captured by the screen in front of him. Whenever he did respond, it was often curt and borderline insulting. You knew it was due to him being under a lot of pressure, but you couldn’t help feeling hurt.

❀ It got to you, and before you knew it, the two of you were fighting. Woozi, who already was feeling immense stress, couldn’t deal with the intense emotions and, hence, defensively threw out a painful insult without thinking. Feeling the tears sting in the corner of your eyes, you asked yourself why you were even still here when he obviously didn’t want you there in your native language before turning to leave. He didn’t understand what you had said, leaving him momentarily speechless.

❀ By switching languages unexpectedly, it gets through to Woozi what he had said and how hurt you were by his words. By being unable to understand what you were saying, he is able to solely focus on your tone and emotions. He feels incredibly guilty about his behaviour, and it doesn’t take long for him to chase after you to profusely apologize.

DK/Seokmin

❀ Although fights do not often happen with DK, he sometimes can be a bit prideful, only recognizing he is in the wrong when the other person gets noticeably angry. You encountered his pridefulness on a normal enough day. DK had texted you that he would be over at your place after practice, so when you came home and heard the shower running, you were delighted at the prospect of spending the evening together with your boyfriend. You briefly called out to him that you were home before waiting for him on the couch to finish showering. It didn't take long for him to be done. When you saw the door swing open with your handsome boyfriend only wearing a towel around his waist, you got up to properly greet him with a hug.

❀ However, before you could do so, you smelled a familiar scent drifting out of the bathroom. You see, one of your friends had gifted you a very expensive body wash that you had been gingerly using whenever you had had a particularly stressful day. Due to it being so expensive, you had asked DK to use the other ones in your shower, just so you could enjoy it a little longer, as you weren't really going to buy it for yourself once it ran out. He hadn't listened. Cue one of the pettiest arguments ever.

❀ In your defence, you weren't even upset about him using the body wash, but instead were hurt that he hadn't respected your wishes. DK, in turn, argued that it was only body wash and that he had simply wanted to smell like you. The argument escalated without either of you meaning to, and before you knew it, a towel hit you in the face. In surprise and anger, you yelled at him in your native tongue, which made DK effectively realize what he had done. He knew that you would never switch languages without being incredibly upset and he felt mortified, recognizing that he had not only let his emotions get out of control but also had parted with the only thing covering up his body.

❀ As you threw the towel back at him, venting in your native language some more, you finally noticed DK standing before you in all his glory, looking both guilt-ridden and like he wished for the ground to swallow him whole. Seeing him standing there butt naked was enough for you to crack up, breaking the tension from the argument. DK, on the other hand, wasn't sure whether to profusely apologize for throwing the towel at you or hide for the rest of eternity.

Mingyu

❀ Mingyu often feels like the perfect boyfriend; he loves to cook and clean and lives to pamper you whenever he is able to. He takes your teasing very well, enjoying when you cheekily poke fun at him blatantly showing off his trained physique in front of fans. Although staying in Korea can sometimes be overwhelming, he truly makes you feel right at home. He strives to introduce you to his friends and tries to make as many new memories with you so that you wouldn’t have to miss your home country too much.

❀ When you guys moved in together, you had been ready to have it be another cherished memory. That was until Mingyu dropped a very precious ceramic bowl. The bowl had been a present from your family when you moved out, and you had dragged the bowl with you all the way to Korea. It was a meaningful keepsake you had taken with you from your home country, allowing you to have a piece of home in a foreign place. You had mostly used it as decoration in your previous apartment, and you were incredibly careful when using it, knowing that once it fell, it would be incredibly difficult to replace.

❀ Consequentially, when you watched your boyfriend drop it onto the floor, shattering your treasured keepsake into a thousand pieces, you felt a part of yourself fracture simultaneously. Mingyu didn’t seem to recognize what he had broken, sheepishly apologizing to you before jokingly remarking that the bowl had been rather ugly anyway. You knew he wasn’t aware of what he had broken and that it would be unfair for you to get mad at him, as it had been an accident after all. Nonetheless, seeing something so important to you not only get broken beyond repair but also mocked, set you off.

❀ As a result, you started yelling at a stunned Mingyu, who wasn’t expecting your explosive reaction at all. In turn, he got aggrieved, feeling like your reaction was disproportionate to the situation. Voicing that, however, only made you more upset, and as you tried to pick up the broken pieces to throw them out, you started crying, sobbing to yourself that it truly was beyond repair in your native tongue.

❀ Mingyu, in retrospect, doesn’t know whether it had been your crying or you switching languages, but as he watches you tearfully throw out the pieces, his anger completely vanishes, only to be replaced by an intense feeling of guilt. He will hug you tightly, apologizing for breaking something that had obviously been very important to you. After you explain what the bowl stood for, he will try his hardest to get you another bowl as a surprise, contacting your family to have them send over a new one.

❀ In the end, all is well, and to be honest, you might love the new bowl a lot more as it reminds you of how much Mingyu genuinely treasures you.

The8/Minghao

❀ Minghao and you had decided to go on a wine painting date; you had stumbled upon it not too long ago, excitedly proposing it to your boyfriend, knowing it combined two of his favourite things. Minghao had been looking forward to the date for the past week, feeling giddy despite the exhausting dance practices. He would tell anyone that would listen about the date, gushing over how well his girlfriend knew him.

❀ It was an absolute surprise to both of you when the workshop ended with you arguing. The workshop had started innocently enough, with you guys following the instructions, laughing whenever a brushstroke failed to turn out how you had intended. The wine tasted great, and both of you were amazed that the workshop was pouring such luxurious wine.

❀ However, as the workshop progressed and the teacher made his way past all the other participants to check on their progress, things turned sour pretty quickly. The moment the teacher laid eyes on you, he was enamoured and absolutely oblivious that you were on a date with your boyfriend.

❀ At first, you assumed that the teacher was only being nice when he lingered longer at your station than others. You presumed that he was being friendly and that, with you and Minghao being the last people he needed to check up on, he stayed to kill time until he needed to introduce the next set of instructions. You failed to notice that Minghao had grown awfully quiet as you conversed. When the teacher reached over to guide the paintbrush in your hand, you started to get the hint that the teacher was trying to hit on you.

❀ Minghao, on the other hand, had been noticing the glances from the teacher since the beginning of the workshop. Although he prided himself in rarely being jealous or upset, the wine made it harder for him to let his gnawing feelings go. He knew his anger was unfair and misplaced, but it didn't make him feel any less upset. Even when you gently let the teacher down by telling him that you and your boyfriend could figure it out yourselves from here, the hurtful feeling persisted.

❀ Thus, when you turned to him afterwards to check on why he had been so quiet, only to be met with a curt Minghao, you began arguing. You knew he was jealous, but he had started to take it out on you. Thus, you did the only thing you knew that could possibly cheer your boyfriend up and shake him out of his jealousy. You took his face gently in your hands, rambling sweet nothings in your native tongue.

❀ Minghao loves hearing you speak in your native language to him, feeling like nothing is more intimate than only him being able to understand the sweet nothings you are saying. He will momentarily blank as he tries to process your sweet words. It is enough to melt away his jealous feelings, making him feel a bit stupid for letting it influence his actions and words (as well as any hope the teacher had to get your number afterwards).

Seungkwan

❀ We all know that Seungkwan likes to nag and tease, not a stranger to playful bickering. Nevertheless, Seungkwan strikes me as someone who is very open with his emotions, preferring to discuss what is bothering him rather than bottling things up. Thus, you two rarely get into actual fights, as he ensures that you two regularly talk about the problems you experience as a couple. At the same time, Seungkwan is a bit of a sensitive boy, and sometimes it is easy to get into arguments with him without either of you meaning to let things escalate. A joke might not land and instead hurts his feelings, leading to an angry and butthurt Boo.

❀ During some of your playful fights, he noticed that you struggled to keep up with his Korean, switching to your native language in frustration when the Korean escaped you. He couldn’t help but feel slightly bad about you having to constantly accommodate him, which is why he devised a plan. Without you knowing, he spend a significant amount of time online skewering the internet to search for basic sentences, mildly insulting phrases and not-too-harsh curse words that he could use if you guys got into another playful argument. Instead of only you having to struggle in Korean, he felt it was only fair for him to wrestle with your native tongue as well.

❀ He finally gets to use it when you guys have a heated discussion over which coffee is the best on one of your many coffee dates; he keeps maintaining that Iced Americano is the best coffee that exists, something that you wholeheartedly disagree with. At first, you are able to respond to him in Korean, easily countering his arguments. However, as the discussion progresses, you can’t help but feel like Seungkwan intentionally is using advanced and eloquent Korean, using words you have never heard before. It doesn’t take long before you start switching out Korean for your native language, trying to hold your ground in the discussion.

❀ It is kind of comical when Seungkwan whips out a list of standard phrases, curse words and insulting sentences in your language, way too eager to use them. Rather than you surprising him by switching languages unconsciously, he is catching you off guard by using your own language against you. He is reading the sentences one by one, and although his pronunciation leaves a lot to be desired, you can tell he put a lot of effort into learning it. You don’t even know whether to be impressed by the fact that he poured so much work into arguing with you in your native language or offended by the, albeit mostly harmless, insults that he is hurling at your head.

Vernon

❀ Vernon strikes me as an emotionally mature person. Therefore, the two of you rarely argue with each other, if at all. Vernon is such a chill guy; it takes a lot to truly get him riled up, and even when he gets emotional, he is capable of maturely handling his emotions. Because of it, you haven’t had any real fights, only mature discussions on how to best navigate whatever problem you two were experiencing in the relationship.

❀ However, there was one thing that you and Vernon could argue for hours about, films. Usually, your film discussions are very civil, with each respecting the other’s opinion even if the other wholeheartedly disagrees. Hence, you guys have made it a routine to put a film on every other night, spending the rest of the evening talking about what you liked or disliked. Both of you enjoyed watching films together in this manner, with the discussions often taking up as much time as watching the films did.

❀ Tonight, however, you made the mistake of putting on a film you adored for nostalgic reasons. The film had been produced in your country, and after searching for it for a while, you had finally found a version with English subtitles. You were incredibly excited to be able to show Vernon the type of films you had grown up with. At first, you thought he was enjoying it; Vernon seemed absorbed as he watched the screen, nodding to himself when he appeared to like a particular scene. Nevertheless, once the film had ended and you eagerly turned to ask him whether he had liked it, he briefly hesitated before calling it mid.

❀ You stared at him in confusion, wondering whether you had been watching the same film. How could he call one of your favourite films mid? Sure, the budget might not have been spectacular compared to a Hollywood blockbuster film, resulting in some questionable CGI and cinematography choices. Still, it was a great film, in your opinion. When you asked him to explain himself, he shrugged, explaining that he simply thought it hadn’t been that good and that both the plot and cinematography left a lot to be desired.

❀ You were greatly offended, and before you knew it, you were heatedly arguing with him. Vernon remained calm rather than matching your energy, explaining that it was okay for you to like a film that just wasn’t his taste. Somehow his indifference annoyed you more, and before you knew it, you were ranting at him that he simply didn’t get how innovative the film was despite the constraints the director had to overcome. Perhaps by being exposed to your native language for such a long time, you brain got reset, and without you being fully aware of it, you had started using your mother tongue. Where before Vernon had been attentively listening, he now seemed lost, alerting you to your accidental mistake.

❀ It was the first time where you had switched languages in his presence, and he realizes that perhaps he had been overly critical. He will gently propose that maybe he was unable to fully enjoy the film as much as you did due to things getting lost in translation. You know he is mostly humouring you, but regardless, it is enough for the one-sided argument to dissipate. How can you stay mad at someone who is the definition of calm and respectful?

Dino/Chan

❀ In retrospect, you should’ve listened to Jeonghan’s warning when you decided to order Soju during dinner. Neither of you had expected to drink, but after a busy workweek, the two of you had decided, “Why the hell not.” You were massively regretting it now, having to deal with a drunk and stubborn Lee Chan.

❀ He refused to do anything you asked of him, and you were practically dragging him through the streets of Seoul, whilst he kept repeating that he wasn’t drunk and could take care of himself. Yeah, sure, he definitely did not keep stumbling over his own feet and was only kept from falling by your grip on his arm. It didn’t help that he kept trying to dislocate himself from you either, claiming that, as your boyfriend, he should be helping you.

❀ It all came to a boiling point when you decided to hail a taxi, too tired and exhausted to continue carrying him. Jeonghan had told you all about stubborn drunk Dino, but you had hoped that you, as his significant other, held enough sway over your boyfriend to coax him into the taxi. Spoiler alert, you didn’t, and instead, the two of you got into an argument. No matter what you said, he kept repeating that he could hail his own taxi. He’s a big boy now.

❀ Maybe it was your sore muscles from carrying him, perhaps it was Dino stupidly refusing your help the entire time or possibly it was the taxi driver warning that he would drive off if the two of you didn’t get in, but suddenly in the midst of your sentence, you switched to your native tongue. In an attempt to get him moving, your tipsy, fuzzy brain resorted to the easiest language for you to yell in. Apparently, that was all it took for Dino to shake himself out of his stubbornness.

❀ The poor guy will be so confused that he’ll easily let you drag him by the arm into the taxi. He can’t determine whether he is truly so drunk that your words have become illegible or that you actually spoke a different language. At the very least, for the time being, you have managed to break through stubbornly drunk Dino, and he lets you guide him whilst he is trying to figure it out in his fuzzy brain.

❀ He will definitely be asking you about it the next morning whilst nursing a massive hangover, thinking it was all a dream.

masterlist

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blue-jisungs · 6 months

Text

complete opposite

author's note. here it goes,, finally finished it after having it rot in my drafts for a month grrrrr … also, this one is for the biggest joshu stans i know, @fairyhaos and @slytherinshua <3

summary. you get scared of how joshua will react to bad news, joshua gets scared of how you’re acting… turns out is all a complete opposite of the other one was thinking

genre. fluff but also kinda angst? hurt to comfort me thinks

word count. 2269 hehe

warnings. swearing, mention of throwing up, feeling sick, having intimate relations with joshua but nothing explicit!! reader is overthinking a lot :(

heart thumping in your chest, you stared at your friend in disbelief. rina squeezed your hand and tucked a hair that has fallen on your face.

“i’ll drive you home, okay?” she hummed and stood up, placing a peck on your forehead “stay here”

you nodded weakily, your stomach going crazy. you watched her silhouette disappear and massaged your temples.

when you woke up today, joshua was already gone. he texted you good morning and informed that he’ll probably come home late at night. but then you felt unwell. ignoring it, you decided to eat breakfast and go to work.

which was a mistake. you barely arrived and already run to the toilet, returning your stomach’s contents. rina was already here so she helped you, handing you some water and meds. just when you thought you’re fine, mid-convo with a customer you turned pale again and your stomach was making turns and somersaults.

you bet it was the fish you ate yesterday. you were out with joshu to some kind of a fancy restaurant. lately you’ve been craving fish so you decided, why not. well apparently it wasn’t a great idea.

“okay, let’s go. just please try not to vomit all over my car” rina giggled and helped you stand up. you felt weak, beads of sweat forming on your forehead. rina bit her lip and led you to her car. “i need to pick up one thing on the way but maybe try taking a nap? should i call your boyfriend?”

“no, no. he’s really busy today” you sighed, secretly wishing he’d be there for you.

in no time you were home, rina walking you to the door. suddenly she handed you a few boxes of… pregnancy tests.

“what…” you laughed, looking at her shocked.

“you… look, i need to go back to work but my sister was pregnant a while ago. and her symptoms were similar. and your period is running late, isn’t it? you still haven’t eaten the chocolate from the cabinet at work” rina said softly, looking at your widened eyes “just… make sure. and call me, okay? if you feel worse or better, doesn’t matter. i’ll pick up whenever i can”

“i… you’re being a bit dramatic with the tests. but thank you. i owe you” you smiled. she nodded and gave you a quick hug before rushing back to work.

you entered your and joshua’s apartment, heart wild in your chest. sure, your period was late. but… no, that’s not right.

feeling a unpleasant sensation bubbling up in your throat once again, head spinning, you ran to the bathroom. throwing the boxes on the counter you accidentally knocked some things over. you knelt down and for another time this day, threw up.

taking deep breaths you weakly grabbed the pink box. scanning the stupid imagine of a stupid woman with a stupid baby bump you decided to try. what’s the worse thing that could happen anyways. you’re not pregnant, it’s just the fish. you and joshua always use protection and you’re always safe. right?

you paced around the bathroom, nervously putting away stuff in different places while waiting for the outcome. it’s not it. can’t be. logically – can’t be. physically–

you peeked at the stick.

two lines.

“fuck”

your heart thumped in your chest, ready to rip out from your rib cage and go for a walk. or jog.

“no, it’s not right…”

you spent half of the day testing the other pregnancy tests. because what if it’s just a malfunction? or if one brand has two lines for positive and the other for negative? you had to be sure.

and sure you were when all of them turned out to be positive.

your bathroom looked like war zone, everything turned upside down all over the place.

walking into the kitchen on wobbly legs, your head felt like it was about to explode.

you’re pregnant.

joshua is going to kill you. well, no. not really. but it will kill him.

you never talked about it. sure, he said he wanted to marry you one day but… but he’s an idol. he’s busy. maybe he doesn’t even want kids?

when some rumours floated around about your relationship… it killed him. some carats went crazy, not in a positive way. joshua was really going through it and now… relationship is not as a big of a problem as pregnancy. oh my god, carats are going to kill you. and the baby.

you don’t want to ruin his career. he worked so hard and loved what he did and now… now it’s about to fall apart like a house of cards triggered by a slight gust of wind.

tears dwelled in your eyes, throat tightening. joshua will hate you, that’s for sure. yes, he loved you but a kid… those are different circumstances, choices… way of living.

he will hate you and dump you. that’s for sure.

unless… unless you do it first.

no.

be rational.

he won’t, right?

the room felt like it was about to swallow you. all the pictures with joshua, your joshu. his ebony irises that you loved oh so much stared at you from the pictures. as if judging you.

you had to get out from here.

rushing to the bathroom, you tore all the boxes with the tests and flushed them down the toilet. then you threw all the tests into a plastic bag and then hid them under the sink. joshua never looks there. like that one time when you spent all day looking for something you lost and–

stop.

you took the keys and stormed out of your apartment, the need of fresh air almost suffocating you. you’ll be back before he gets home.

joshua pushed the door open, limbs feeling as if ready to fall apart any second. he just dreamed about changing his pyjamas and falling asleep in your arms.

it was late so he figured he won’t announce he’s here, like he always does. leaving his bag by the entrance, joshua stretched lazily.

he entered the bedroom and halted. the bed was empty.

“that’s weird…” he mumbled. maybe you’re in the bathroom? joshua grabbed his pyjama and decided to go check the bathroom.

if he was surprised that you weren’t in the bedroom, the bathroom left him speechless.

not only you weren’t there, like he thought you’d be. the room looked like a tornado passed through it.

everything was scattered around, as if knocked over; all over the place.

“y/n?” joshua called out, dropping the pyjamas. rushing to get his back to grab his phone, his throat went dry. it’s almost midnight and you’re not home. if you were going out with your girl friends, he’d know. he wouldn’t forget. so why you’re not home?

dialling your number, he noticed there’s no texts from you either. which was concerning too… you’d text him if you were going out somewhere. especially at this hour. and considering how cold it was…

the silence in the house was frightening. joshua didn’t like this one bit. suddenly he heard buzzing and his heart came up to his throat. your phone is home.

you left without taking your phone…?

joshua ran his hand through his hair. he has to stay calm.

he gulped and called your best friend from work. it was dumb, especially at this hour. but rina picked up immediately, even though voice w bit raspy and tired.

“hi joshua. is everything alright with y/n? i’ve been worried sick for the whole day–“ her voice was almost desperate for an answer.

“there was something wrong? i just came home and she’s not here… and, and she didn’t take her phone– i don’t know what’s happening” joshua whispered, feeling how his stomach drops.

“fuck”

“okay… okay… let’s stay calm. she… maybe she went to get some groceries?” rina breathed out “fuck, i shouldn’t leave her alone. is my fault… i…”

“hey, no, don’t say that. what even happened?” joshua asked and switched the light on. he’ll wait until you’re back. rina hesitated – if it was what she thinks it is, she doesn’t want to be the one passing the news.

“she felt unwell at work… and i drove her home but i had to go back… i should’ve stayed with her” rina mumbled.

suddenly there was a soft click of the door opening. joshua jolted, eyes turning into that direction.

you appeared in the doorway, your face catching his gaze. you were crying.

“rina, she’s here. don’t need to worry” he spoke softly. joshua noticed how scared you look. scared, tired and… guilty

“oh thank god. warn her that i’ll whoop her ass in work tomorrow” your grind let out a nervous laugh but she certainly sounded relieved “good night”

“good night” joshua whispered and hang up.

the silence was speaking volumes.

you slowly took off your shoes and sighed. opening your mouth to say something and then closing them again.

“if you wanted to go out, you should’ve taken a jacket” he said softly; there was no poisoned sarcasm in his voice, only genuine worry. you nodded weakly and played with your fingers.

“i…” your voice broke, eyes avoiding his.

joshua stood up and started boiling some water to mar you tea. you sat down on the couch, putting your bag close to you; hands gripping your knees.

for a moment it was peaceful, as if the world wasn’t about to fall apart in mere moments. just you, joshua and the sounds of boiling water.

in no time he returned, placing the cup on the table. then he looked at you, anxiety filling his heart.

“did something happen?” joshua asked. for the first time in ages he was unsure what to do. should he hold your hand? you didn’t look like you wanted to but on the other hand…

you shook your head gently, tears gathering at the edge of your waterline. your throat went dry and you felt like you weren’t able to physically speak out.

“i saw the bathroom, it looks like a mess. you scared me” he let out a soft chuckle, scanning your reaction.

nothing.

your fingers traced shapes absentmindedly on your knee, eyes distant.

“angel?” he asked, concern growing in his voice. only after you took a deep breather and let it out as a shaky sigh, you started. now or never.

“you’ll hate me” you mumbled and were met with a scoff. scared, you looked up at him. joshua was smiling softly, unaware of what he was about to learn.

“y/nnie, i’d never hate you” the smile wrinkles that you loved so much appeared around his eyes. your lip quivered and you looked away

“you will. i’m so… i’m sorry joshua” your voice cracked ��i ruined your career”

“what are you talking about, silly?” joshua laughed nervously.

you just shook your head, tears beginning to roll down your cheeks. in a blink of an eye you started harshly sobbing, breathing getting hard to breathe.

joshua rushed and hugged you tightly, petting your hair. even though he hated that such thought crossed his mind, he couldn’t help but wonder what did you mean: did you cheat–

“i’m so fucking sorry” you whined, pulling away from him. then you reached to your bag and turned it upside down, causing its content to fall on the couch.

“what do you…” joshua’s voice died in his throat, your crying only getting more intense when you saw his reaction.

he reached to grab one of the white and pink sticks. two red lines.

then he looked at another one. two red lines.

the other one he grabbed has a blue plus drawn.

rummaging through all of them, mouth agape, he felt as if knocked the air out of his lungs.

no, not because you were pregnant (well, this too). because of your reaction. you thought he’ll hate you? that you ruined his career? that…

“oh y/n” his voice broke, grabbing your face in his hands. your quivering lip and wet eyelashes made his heart clench but it was hard for him to resist a smile “how could i… i’m…”

“i’m sorry! we never really talked about this before and… and i know that we’re not that young but your career is blooming and… and–“ you mumbled, voice becoming whiny and hard to control. why is he smiling, by the way…?

“y/n, please take a breath, okay?” he asked gently, caressing your wet cheeks “i would never have thought that… you’re going to panic thinking about my reaction”

you took a deep breath and blinked slowly. why; why in hell he’s so calm?! isn’t he going to–

“i’m going to be a father” he breathed out, his own eyes tearing up too “and you’ll be the mother, y/n. that’s… that’s something i could never dream of but i also always wanted…”

“w-what?” you asked and he shook his head, grinning with pearly tears blinking at the edge of his waterline.

“i love you so so much. i’m… speechless. and above all, so… so happy” he sniffled.

his reaction was… complete opposite of what you thought it would be. you felt as if a huge stone just dropped from your heart, relief washing over you. suddenly you put your hands on top of his and pulled him into a kiss.

lips connected and tears falling down your cheeks, joshua felt like all of this was unreal. pulling away, he rested his forehead against yours.

“i’ll be a dad” a faint whisper left his mouth as you wiped his cheek with a loving smile.

masterlist <3

taglist. @mirxzii ,, @primoppang ,, @l3visbby ,, @nicholasluvbot ,, @planetkiimchi ,, @weird-bookworm ,, @slytherinshua ,, @jiwuu ,, @laylasbunbunny ,, @dazzlingligth

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bangchansgirlsblog · 7 months

Text

Broken Headsets PT 2

-Chan

Warning: A lot of Angst.

Pairing: BangChan x reader.

Summary: where he snaps at you while working.

!Not proofread!

“Baby I’m so sorry, please open up the door.” Chan’s voice echoes through the door and into the bathroom.

My knees against my chest as I was calming down from a panic attack. The sleeves on my sweater now dump from all the tears it was sucking up.

“G-go away” I cry louder. My body shaking and my salty tears freely running down my hot face.

“I don’t…I don’t want to talk to you right now!”

“Babe I’m sorry okay? I didn’t mean to snap like that. Just let me talk to you. Let me hold you. I’m worried. Your going to have another panic attack”

“BangChan leave me alone. I don’t want to talk to you.” I throw whatever was in my reach at the wooden door. Making him jump on the other side of the door. Now HE couldn’t hold back his tears. He wanted to be able to sort it out because he genuinely didn’t mean to snap Or cause anyone pain.

“Okay I’ll give you some time my love, please don’t be angry with me. I’m sorry.” His voice now low and quiet. I had no response because I was so angry and so hurt by him.

I wasn’t being dramatic right?

The sound of his footsteps disappear down the hall making me quickly but softly wipe my tears away and get up to wash my face. The cold water making my body shiver. I stare at myself. Hair up in a bun, eyes red and eye bags deep from all the lack of sleep. A fucking mess.

The front door slamming was what made me jump getting me out of the trance I was in. Had he left? I pick up the container that was on the ground due to the fact I threw it and open the bathroom door.

I find Berry sat in-front of it as if waiting for me. I give her a soft smile and pick her up.

Walking through the house looking for any sign of Chan but there was none.

I glance at the clock and it read 12:45. Anger rises up my chest once again because how dare he leave the house at this hour knowing how much anxiety I have when his out late? Such a selfish bastard!

Get home.

I send him a text and switch off my phone to look around. A mess the house was.

“Shall we clean up Berry?” I look at the dog in my hands who didn’t even seem to be bothered by anything. “I swear I talk to you more than I talk to Chan” a chuckle leaves my lips when she starts licking my face.

“Now come on let’s get started.” I place her down and pick up things and put them away. My body needing the distraction but my mind and thoughts running at a speed of lightning.

Emotions running through “my mind and soul”. Cringe lol.

2:30 am.

The sound of the clock ticking was starting to irritate me and craw under my skin.

Worry slowly crawling up my chest. Where was he? Was he safe? Was he okay? Where could he be?

I hated myself for putting my self through this because after the little stunt he pulled causing me to sit in the bathroom crying my heart out for 2 hours begging for someone to come save me. I was still sat in our living at 2:30 am waiting and wondering where he had gone too.

Did he leave me? Surely he hadn’t cause all his stuff was still here.

My feet slowly taps the floor, something I do when I’m nervous. I tag on my sweater which is now stretched out due to the constant pulling. The material laying between my fingers feeling very satisfying.

“Why do you have to do this to me Chan?” I say softly, talking to myself.

The house was quiet once again like I’m used too.

The lights were off except for his studio room led lights that were on and passing through the glass window.

Berry was now sat on my lap cuddling me because I knew she sensed the stress my body was going through. She always just knew and she always tried to cuddle of just play around whenever Chan or I where going through something.

A sigh leaves my lips. I was tired. I needed sleep but I needed to know if he was safe.

I check my phone to see if he had responded but nothing came through and when I was about to set down the phone it stars to buzz making me jolt up. Han’s name pops up with a picture of me and him when we were at an adventure park in Japan.

I quickly pick up the phone hoping that somehow Chan was with him and they were doing some project.

“Hello?” My voice rough but still soft from all the crying.

“Hey baby.” He says softly from the other end of the phone.

“Hey..”

“Are you doing okay?” He asks, I could hear the nervous tone in his voice.

“Mhm” a hum in response.

“Channie Hyung is with us in the dorms okay? He showed up here really upset so we told him to just stay over until everything is calm,”

I feel my heart break into pieces. Was he really that upset that he didn’t want to stay in the same home as me? He knew how I hated when he didn’t sleep at home.

“Oh, okay that’s alright. Thank you for letting me know,” I tell him. A weigh being lifted off my shoulder because now that I knew he was safe I could sleep or so I thought.

After hanging up the phone. I slowly put Berry aside and cleanup the cold plate that’s till say on the table and decide to finish up the dishes.

The scent of soap filling my nostrils and a warm liquid running down my face. Tears.

Who would have thought that I would be here at the age of 25 doing dishes at 2 am while crying.

My vision was blurry and my legs were weak. My heart beating fast as I could hear it in my ears.

My face was hot and my body trembled from the heart aching sobs that left it.

I couldn’t be under this much stress.

It wasn’t good for the baby.

Pt 1 ⬇️

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nochukoo97 · 1 year

Text

boyfriend drabbles (pt.1)

pairing: Jungkook x reader

summary: fluff omg, jk being a cute bf, painting each others nails and its just basically cute stuff HAHA

word count: 600+

boyfriend drabbles masterlist!

Ever since you and Jungkook had started dating three years ago, he became a major part of your daily life, and even on days where he would not be able to see you in person, your boyfriend would always make the effort to give you a call and whisper sweet nothings into the phone.

One of your adopted habits was to include your boyfriend in every aspect of your life. Whether it was a casual get-together with your own circle of friends or any other social event, you had an inclination to bring Jungkook along with you, a gesture that he wholeheartedly embraced, never once expressing reluctance or complaint.

In this case, Jungkook finds himself trailing behind you and your best friend, Sohee, as the both of you enter the familiar shop. A subtle wince crosses his face as he observes the two of you quickening your pace, your excited squeals filling the air upon reaching closer to the rows of products displayed before you.

Jungkook watches as the both of you light up upon noticing a small booth, remembering you had mentioned once about that particular brand. A quiet hum leaves his mouth as he watches the both of you excitedly swatch the different shades of eyeshadow, but to him, they look exactly the same shade.

—

“___, I’m gonna go to the toilet, wait for me here okay? Don’t you dare to try other stuff without me,” Sohee raises a finger at you playfully as she walks off. Now it’s only you and Jungkook, and your boyfriend is more than content to finally get some of your attention.

“Jagi,” Jungkook whines as he leans down to peck you on the lips, you chuckle as you reach up to ruffle his hair in sympathy. Poor boy, you thought.

“If we stay here any longer I’m literally going to go insane,” He whines, eyes adverting to your hand filled with various makeup products smeared onto your skin.

“I promise we’ll be quick,” A laugh sounds out from your mouth at his exasperated state, as Jungkook sighs, mentally cursing at himself for not charging his phone the night before, now that it’s battery had gone flat.

You begin to test out more shades where you and Sohee had left off, not leaving anywhere else, but it seems as though your boyfriend had other plans.

“Hey!” You gasp as Jungkook gently tugs on your arm, forcing you to follow along behind him as he trudges towards another aisle.

“Baby, what are you doing?” You question his sudden actions when your boyfriend reaches for the nail polish tester and raises your hand to paint your index finger oh-so-gently, his brows furrowed as he tries his best to paint within the nail. You begin to laugh at Jungkook’s sudden actions, but he cuts you off, “Jagi, stop moving, you’re gonna make me mess up,”

After he’s done painting your fingernail, Jungkook looks contented at his little artwork on your nail, and then he proceeds to attempt to paint his own finger too, but it’s harder for him when he attempts to use his non-dominant hand to paint. A disgruntled sound emits from his mouth, eyebrows furrowing as you grab the nail polish from his hand to do it yourself.

“I should have known you would betray me for you man,” You hear Sohee dramatically sigh as she approaches the both of you, Jungkook sticking his tongue out at her as she rolls her eyes.

Even though you and Sohee had spent at least another good twenty minutes in that store, your boyfriend didn’t mind as he held your hand the whole time, sometimes hugging you from behind and leaning his head on your shoulder as your best friend clearly annoyed from the third-wheeling.

a/n: hello!! i kinda wrote this in a rush without really planning so it might not be the best but its really short anyways haha, i realised i havent been putting a note at the end of my fics recently 😭 and i want to talk with you guys more! i also def need more inspo to write more scenarios so if you guys have any pleasee send an ask to me ❤️

#jungkook fluff #jungkook #jungkook au #jungkook ff #jungkook smut #jungkook x oc #jungkook x reader #bts #bts ff #bts fic #jungkook comfort #boyfriend jungkook

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morganski-19 · 2 months

Text

The One with the Stolen Clothes

Eddie walks into Steve and Robin’s apartment to bother them, because he’s bored, and Robin dramatically gasps. Then throws a ball of paper at Steve when he walks out of his bedroom.

“What the fuck was that for?” he asks, thoroughly confused.

Robin gestures over to Eddie with wide eyes. Steve raises an eyebrow, still confused. Eddie just looked between the two of them, trying to decipher what they are silently communicating. Robin rolls her eyes.

“Eddie, where did you get that shirt?”

Eddie glances down at his shirt, having just pulled it out of the laundry basket before walking over here. “The laundry basket on the couch. Why?”

“No, like what place?”

He shrugs. “Thrift store probably, I don’t listen to this bad, but the logo’s cool.”

Robin dramatically stands up. “I knew it. That’s my shirt.”

Eddie makes a confused face. “How would your shirt end up in my apartment?”

Steve’s eyes widen. “I think I know. Remember when you stayed over here a few nights ago, and you borrowed some of my clothes. You said that you would wash them and then return them, but never did. I’m pretty sure that was the shirt you borrowed.”

“Huh, guess so. Sorry Buck, I’ll have to wash it again before giving it back to you.”

“Yeah fine, whatever,” Robin groans.

Steve snaps, like he just made a big realization. “That’s why you threw the paper at me.”

“It always come back to you stealing shit out of my closet.”

“Not my fault you like to wear baggy shirts.”

“You still wear it even if it’s not baggy,” Robin raises her voice. “Half my closet is stuff that you stretched out.”

Steve huffs. “That is so not true. And you steal my shit all the time, it’s like our thing.”

“Not when you lend someone else my clothes,” she points to Eddie, bringing him back into this conversation. “And I don’t care if it’s not washed, I’d like it back.”

Eddie shrugs. “I’ll go change then.”

He leaves the apartment and returns to his own. Nancy giving him an odd look when he walks through the door.

“Is that you’re shirt?” Nancy asks, sitting at the kitchen table with her laptop.

“Apparently not. It’s Robin’s.” Eddie goes to his room to change, double checking that this shirt is actually his.

“How’d you end up with Robin’s shirt?” Nancy asks, turning her head to the hall when a loud scream is heard from the other apartment.

Eddie matches her expression, thinking it’s probably not a good idea to go over there again. “Steve accidentally lent it to me. Apparently, he steals her clothes a lot.”

Nancy hums. “Yeah, it’s been a problem for years. But she does it to. When I roomed with her in college, she would steal my sweatshirts all the time.”

“I’m still surprised you guys didn’t date back then. You practically were from the sound of it.” There’s another scream from the across the hall. “Should we intervene?”

“Nah, they’ll be fine. We probably would have dated in college if I knew I was bi back then. But I didn’t, so we sort of missed it.”

Eddie faces Nancy. “And now?”

“Now,” Nancy says, still facing the door. “Whatever we might have had back then is gone. Robin and I are just friends. All we’ll ever be.”

“Are you saying that because you believe it, or because you think Robin doesn’t like you back.”

“Because I believe it. What we have,” Nancy takes a deep breath. “I’d rather be her friend forever than risk losing her to some shitty breakup. I almost lost Steve when we broke up in college, and then Jonthan when we broke up two years ago. I got lucky twice, I’m not risking being lucky again.”

Eddie sits down next to Nancy at the table. “But are you really going to stop yourself from trying. Maybe this time, you won’t have to be lucky. Everything could work out.”

“Are you still holding yourself back after your dick head of an ex-boyfriend broke up on you?” Nancy asks already knowing the answer.

“Got me there. When did life get so complicated?”

Nancy huffs. “Life was so much easier when we were in high school. The biggest thing we had to worry about were classes and shitty after school jobs. Not this.”

“Remember that hiding spot we found in the library?”

“Yeah,” Nancy smiles. “Right behind the non-fiction isle by the teachers lounge. Everything felt better there.”

“Do you ever wish you could go back in time, just for life to feel simpler again? Or to change something in hopes it would make your future better.”

“Sometimes. I think if I did, the one thing I would change is us falling out of touch. Everything else, I think was just fine enough.”

Eddie plays with his rings. “I’m sorry that I stopped reaching out when you went off to school. Just felt like you didn’t need me anymore, with all your new college friends and classes and shit. You didn’t need me dragging you back to that town. You were so much better than them.”

“I’m sorry I let you. Wasn’t just you’re doing. I wanted to separate as much from home as possible, you just happened to be in the crossfire.”

Robin bursts through the apartment door, finding Eddie with a glare. “My shirt,” she demands.

“Right, here,” he tosses her the shirt and she leaves. “We really need to start locking that door.”

Nancy winces. “Yeah. Why’d Steve lend you the shirt anyway?”

“Not the reason you think. We were too high and tired to stand up fully, so he just let me stay over.”

“Damn, thought you two were done being stupid.”

Eddie laughs. “Yeah, that’s not going to happen until you and Robin stop being stupid.”

Tag list (let me know if you want to be added or taken off) @slowandsteddie, @annieofhearts, @cacdyke, @ubpd, @captain--low, @thespaceantwhowrites, @goodolefashionedloverboi, @anne-bennett-cosplayer, @lunaticparisianlady, @apomaro-mellow, @dolphincliffs, @dragonmama76, @maggiebug417, @stevesbipanic, @fearieshadow, @mentallyundone, @eightpackdiaz, @au79burger @bookworm0690 , @practicallybegging, @potato-of-the-lord, @autumncrocusandladybug

#morgan's friends au #stranger things #friends au #ficlet #stranger things ficlet #steve harrington #eddie munson #robin buckley #nancy wheeler #some eddie and nancy lore #steddie #ronance #implied #pre relationship

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satoruhour · 8 months

Note

do you have any headcannons for gojo comforting reader when they start their period? (If i already sent this ask, ignore the first one! i couldnt remember if i asked this already or not)

a/n: hi darlaaa thank you for waiting teehee i love the gojo asks you’re giving me / i tried to keep it as general as possible even tho i only use pads! gn!reader, a little brief n*sfw at the end

i think we have all established that gojo is actually like . crazy in love with you and because of that he hates that you’re hurting so much bc of it :(

gojo likes to be at your command (even on normal days but) so he’s noting down every small thing you mention

“a tub of ice cream would sound so good rn…” or “think im running out of heat pads”

and he’s on his feet instantly. when youre sick or on your period he just declares it an off day, or at least on the first day when it’s the most painful

doesn’t really care about blood since he’s seen his fair share but he sometimes panics if your period comes during the night and he sees that the sheets are red

gojo lightly turns you over and sees that it’s coming from your centre and breathes a sigh of relief bc he’s had one too many nightmares about you getting bloodied and torn to shreds by a curse and he’s too late to save you

anyway. enough of the dark stuff, you freak out the first time you stay over and your period comes (the timing is so shit truly) bc his sheets are so expensive and you just “oh my god i just ruined my chance w this beautiful man”

but gojo doesn’t bat an eye, rather jumps up to comfort you, rubbing a soothing hand over you before you head over to the bathroom to clean up

a bit of blood got on him tho, thru cuddling and gojo makes a joke about how you’re “marking” him and you just roll your eyes and shove him away with a smile lol

he gives you everything you need to clean up most of the time and lets you do your thing

doesn’t let you change the sheets w/ him and rather makes you sit down to watch him, as with other things

changing the channel? gojo is there to do it. u want another snack from the pantry? he’s teleporting that short distance in his house because he doesn’t want you to feel that disgusting rush of blood whenever you stand up. hes so dramatic i swear

has made pms jokes before but he’s changed and he’s a better man now fr. gojo has gotten a lecture from utahime and then didnt take it seriously and then REALLY got told off by shoko after 💀

now whenever you’re moody he just shuts up and comforts you quietly <3

gojo willingly straps on those devices that mimic period cramps and then just when he wants to boast, you turn on the device to the highest setting (he told u to give him ur all) and he SCREAMS the most high pitched shriek ever it’s hilarious

tricks yuji into trying it out and poor yuji gullibly smiles even when gojo hasnt explained what it’s for and the way yuji grits his teeth omfg. you swear you hear sukuna ask gojo to never fuckin do that again

never disrespects you again

reluctantly gives you his sweet things 😭 he gets a little sad when he returns from a mission and his cheesecake is gone and you’re just sitting in front of the tv going “what?” LMFAOOO

he loves you too much however and lets you do whatever!

praises you even MORE during this time it’s kinda adorbs lol — “oh! you worked out on your period, love that for you, darling!!!!”

“my baby stood up from the couch! yaayyy!!!” he’s so annoyingly cute bye

learns so much about your favourite pad and tampon brands but also has that first time funny moment where he calls you and says “babe what size pussy you have?” and 😭😭

memorises the lengths/thickness and different uses but sometimes he still buys the wrong thing (it’s ok he’s cute enough that u forgive him)

has the biggest gasp when he finds out some brands put in chemicals to make ppl w/ vaginas bleed more so they buy more sanitary products

is fully motivated to go to the offices to protest 😭😭😭

buys SO MANY packets of sanitary products and just makes the excuse of “i’m rich“ and “doesn’t hurt to have more of it in case you run out”

you gesture incredulously, “yeah but not TWENTY PACKETS????? ARE YOU INSANE?”

your sweet boyfriend is just worried for you

gives the higher-ups shit cause they make you go on a mission while on your period and it’s so disgusting to exercise, much less exorcise and run around on a mission and tells them he’ll take it instead.

gojo doesn’t tell you he did tho, just comes home a little later than usual to find u already asleep

would love to make u soup but we’ve also established he sucks in the kitchen so … he just buys you those soup packets from the soup spoon and tells you he made it himself

you believe him once. and then the next day u catch an email notifying him more packets of soup is coming the next morning 💀

you two ended up eating soup for the next few days

tells you about his missions or days if you don’t want to say or do anything. he can talk your ear off for hours and you’re glad for that but sometimes you slip in little hums or nods and he can’t help but smile hehe

gojo rubs his hand on your tummy and womb when it hurts :( it’s endearing :((

sometimes also asks you if you’d like it on your core if it hurts, and his hand cupping your cunt feels nice at times.

also wiggles his eyebrows too much asking if you need his help to cum or something bc he heard it calms cramps LOL

suggests helping you to rub one out if you want but really it all depends on you if you want it <3

all in all a very sweet guy to be around and sometimes you have to tell him to quiet down cause he’s a little too hyper but he takes care of you extensively :3 you’re his baby !!!!

#satoruhour's mutuals #asks #sukunaphilia #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen gojo #gojo fluff #gojo x reader #gojo satoru smut #jjk drabbles #jjk headcanons #jjk fluff #jjk gojo #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen #satoru gojo x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader

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willsimpforanyone · 9 months

Note

Do you think you could do a leo valdez smut? Where the reader is more introverted and quiet outside in day to day stuff but gets really flirty in bed or and alone with Leo

i can absolutely do that for u <3

obv everyone is an adult! they get given wine! they have an apartment! u think anyone under the age of 25 can afford their own flat rn?

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

I smile softly as Leo's friends laugh loudly. His hand rests on my thigh and I lean my head on his shoulder, content to just listen to the conversation for now.

It was nice having people round now that we'd officially moved into our apartment, various friends bringing wine and sweet treats that Leo and I got to indulge in once everyone had gone.

Leo turns his head, lips just touching my ear. "You alright, baby?"

I nod, hand reaching for his on my thigh and squeezing it. "Yeah, I'm good." Satisfied, Leo presses a quick kiss to my cheek and returned to the conversation at hand.

After another hour or so, it was decided that people should leave- it was late, the sun just setting and goodbyes were said. I stay back, waving and accepting hugs as they were given to me, but otherwise letting Leo deal with corralling people out our door.

The lock clicks shut, and he breathes a sigh of relief, resting his forehead against the door. "I love mis amigos, I do but holy shit." He turns, tired eyes and tired smile meeting mine. "They sure are loud, huh?"

I laugh, wandering over to him and wrapping my arms around his waist. "You're loud too, y'know."

He slips his hands behind my back, pulling me closer and pressing a kiss to my nose. "Well, yeah, but I'm cute, so."

"Very much so." I wink at him, enjoying the light dust of red that settled on his nose at the gesture. "Kinda hot too, I guess."

Leo gasps, offended. "'Kinda hot'? Excuse you, I'm gorgeous!" He wriggles out of my grip, stalking across the room in a dramatic fashion to the bedroom door. Eyes flashing, he whips his head back to look at me. "You should think yourself lucky!" And he waltzs into the bedroom, leaving the door open.

I laugh, walking to where he'd disappeared. He's sat on the bed, arms folded, muttering something about 'kinda hot' and 'outrageous'. Rolling my eyes fondly, I pad over to him, pulling at his crossed arms until he gave in, failing to hide a grin.

"Fine, okay? You're gorgeous." I lean down to press a kiss to his cheek. "And handsome." Kiss to his other cheek. "And hot." Kiss to his nose. "And so, incredibly, unbelievably sexy." I catch his lips in a kiss, my hands coming up to cradle his head. His eyes slip shut and he hums against my lips.

I pull back to see him properly, a slightly glazed look coming over his face and a dopey smile contrasting my sharper smirk. "Aww, aren't you pretty? I get all you attention now, don't I, baby?"

Leo nods before he even registers the question and I squeeze his cheeks together. It barely takes a hand against his chest to get him to lay down on the bed, the air punched out of his lungs at the force. I climb on top of him, eyes narrow and predatory.

Before he can say anything, I dive down into the junction between his neck and shoulder, licking a stripe up his skin. His breath catches in his throat and I bite down very lightly. His hands fly to my hips, fingers tangling in the fabric of my tshirt.

"I swear," he whispers. "No one would ever believe me if I told them what you were really like."

I give him a curious hum, hands slowly holding his and guiding them above his head.

Leo groans as he pinned, my lips still attached to his neck. "You're so... quiet, inside yourself when we're around people." I feel him clear his throat. "W-why is that?"

I pull back, looking a little thoughtful. Leo's hands, now free as I rest mine on my thighs, return to holding my hips. "I mean, I'm introverted, I guess. Not good with large groups of people, no matter how nice they might be." I smirk down at him, settling into his lap a little further and drawing a whine from my boyfriend. "And anyway, right now I'd rather have something else inside me."

Leo actively chokes on air, eyes wide. "H-holy shit, see? This is what I mean!" He sits up, fingers pulling at the jeans I'm wearing. "You're a deceptive thing, intent on making me die."

"Lies." I lean back over him, grinding my hips down as Leo swears in Spanish. "Lies and slander, I tell you."

I don't even give him enough time to reply, undoing his jeans and slipping my hand over his cock. His eyes widened and his grip on my hips tightened. "O-okay, fuck..."

I hop off of him, beginning to strip. "Everything off, Valdez, now."

He nearly fell off the bed with how quickly he pulled his jeans off, head briefly getting stuck in his tshirt. I laugh and help him out of it, then made quick work of my underwear.

Leo's eyes were darting over me, absorbing my body. His hands reached out, smoothing over my stomach and round my back to pull me to him again. "How... how are you so gorgeous? I don't understand..." His voice is breathy and I shrug, electing not to answer but instead reach down and slide my fingers through my folds.

My hand comes back shiny and wet, and I tap two fingers against Leo's mouth. He obediently taked them into his mouth, cleaning them. He looks so fucking pretty, dark curly hair dusting over tanned skin and slender arms wrapping around me.

"Ready?"

He nods frantically, shifting back as I straddle his legs. "Nope, words, baby."

Leo swallows, blinking and trying to focus. "Y-yes, green, verde, very much yes!"

I don't bother supressing a laugh, grasping his cock and jerking it quickly, pulling him to full hardness as he gasps and his hips twitch under my touch. I waste no more time, hissing through my teeth as I push down, the slight sting of being filled making me dig my nails into Leo's chest.

He almost stops breathing as soon as I'm sat in his lap, his dick fully inside me and I can feel his stomach muscles tensing with restraint under me. I breathe out, adjusting to the feeling, rocking very slightly back and forth. Leo swallows, eyelashes fluttering as he looks up at me.

"Y-you're gonna kill me, but at this point? I really don't care."

I merely grin, settling my hands on his chest before I began to ride him in earnest. I wrench moans and whimpers from his lips, my nails carving crescent moons into his flesh and his fingers bruising my hips from how tightly he was holding them.

Leo's hips push up into me as best he can, rhythm steady at first, then becoming more sporadic as he chases his end, eyes squeezed shut.

"Forget what they'd think of me, what would your friends think of you, baby?" I tease, a wicked smirk settling on my lips as Leo throws his head back and slurs something in Spanish.

"C-close, so close, fu-uck...!" He groans out, snapping his hips into me. I nearly fall, catching myself with my arms either side of his head. My lips caress his cheek, leading to his ear.

"You don't get to come before I do, understand?"

He nods, whining out a 'yes' and one of his hands leaves my hips, instead locating my clit and applying circular pressure that knocks the wind out of me. I clutch at the bedsheets, the combination of his cock hitting deep inside me and his thumb sending me spiralling into pleasure, my orgasm slamming into me like a wave.

By this point, Leo knows my body so well he can tell the exact moment I come, taking that as permission so he can follow suit. It only takes a few more seconds before he's gasping, crying out my name and holding me flush against him.

We breathe in time, and I feel his heartrate slowly regulate. I press kisses onto any piece of skin I can reach without moving, silently loving him. He strokes my back, seemingly content for me to just lie on him until we can both be bothered to move.

"So. Did I kill you?"

Leo laughs breathlessly. "Yes, you did, you're awful, now don't ever move away, ever."

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

this legit took me hours bc my brain did NOT want to play nicely but i hope you enjoyed it! thank you for requesting!

#leo valdez smut #reader x leo valdez #leo valdez imagine #leo imagine #leo valdez

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magiccath · 2 months

Text

The Prettiest Alien

tenth doctor x reader (fairly ambiguous relationship)

Summary: In which the Doctor gets a skirt

A/N: he'd look amazing in a skirt, fight me on it

The Doctor loved little shops. They were probably his favorite of all the things in the vast universe. You could find just about anything in a shop, even things you didn’t know you needed. Every time he passed a little shop he had to fight the urge to go in. You never knew what treasures could be waiting inside, his favorite coat had come from a shop on the West side of London. His life would have been miserable if he hadn’t gone into that shop.

Imagine his surprise and joy when the two of you stumbled across a little village full of small shops. The two of you spent the whole day there, just walking about. You spent hours exploring the village, peering into the windows. You would go into a few, browsing all kinds of goods.

As you passed a shop window, the Doctor had an unmistakable look of joy and childish excitement. You looked into the window to discover a shop entirely devoted to rubber ducks. The Doctor sprinted inside without waiting for you, already gaping at all of the themed ducks. He held one up to you as you walked in, pointing enthusiastically at its purple wizard hat.

“Did you know the original rubber duck didn’t even float? It was solid,” he explained as he pulled his glasses out of his coat to look at the various ducks better. He studied them the same way that he did the various alien languages on the TARDIS console that you couldn’t read.

Later, he ended up rummaging around his coat pockets for Earth money, making you hold the various coins as he pulled them from his endless pockets, trying to find enough to buy a pair of duck-patterned socks.

Really, you were just happy to just trail behind him, looking at the bits and bobs as he rambled on about everything and nothing.

After a few hours of browsing, the Doctor stopped in front of a little boutique. He stared at the display with wide eyes, clearly admiring the mannequin. You peered over his shoulder to see what he was looking at. The window display was small with just one outfit styled for passersby to look at. The simple, sleek mannequin was dressed up in a dusty pink tulle skirt paired with a flowery blouse. You couldn’t help but think it was entirely Parisian.

“Let’s go in!” You smiled at the Doctor, noticing his interest in the display. You didn't think much of it initially, considering you had been looking at the display with the same interest.

The Doctor momentarily blushed before following you into the shop silently, keeping his head down in a very uncharacteristic manner. He followed you as you wandered through the shop, your hands brushing over the fancy and expensive garments.

“I’ve always loved looking at stuff like this,” you giggled as you held up a fancy garment, your fingers rubbing against the silky fabric. The Doctor simply nodded, his silence confusing to you. He was usually extremely talkative, even when he didn’t need to be. Usually, he would be making some comment about the fabric - telling you the strange origins of the print or explaining how silk was made in more detail than you were typically comfortable with. Instead, he was just standing there awkwardly as you chattered on every now and then. It was a dramatic change from just a few short hours ago and it left you wondering what was wrong.

Deciding he was just uncomfortable in such a fancy store, you suggested that the two of you move on to others. The Doctor blushed, his eyes darting around the room before nodding.

On the way out, you passed the rack of dusty pink skirts that had been in the display window. The Doctor halted, his slender fingers momentarily brushing against the puffy tulle. You stopped as well, taking in his gentle expression as he looked upon the skirts.

That’s when it hit you. The Doctor wasn’t uncomfortable in the shop because he felt out of place or even out of disinterest. He wanted the skirt. The Doctor wasn’t one to ask for things, especially unconventional things.

“Do you wanna wait outside? I’m gonna grab a few things,” you suggested with a soft smile.

The Doctor pulled himself from his thoughts. He quickly withdrew his hand from the skirt, almost as if he was afraid it would burn him. His head hung in embarrassment, hoping you hadn’t paid too much attention to him.

“Yeah, I’ll just head across the street, I think there’s a sweets shop,” he said, rushing his words. You nodded in agreement and he practically darted out the door, speed walking away from you anxiously. You laughed to yourself before turning your attention to the skirts.

They really were beautiful, and they even had pockets! Donna would be proud, she was always an advocate for things having pockets, especially after her chaotically disastrous wedding. You flicked through the skirts, looking for one that was relatively the Doctor’s size. It wasn’t hard, he had such a slender waist.

You picked out the skirt and carried it over to the counter, handing it to the lady proudly.

“Fantastic choice,” she smiled as she wrung you up, “did your boyfriend pick it out for you?” She asked, gesturing her head to the door, clearly referring to the Doctor.

You shook your head and handed her your card, “no, it’s for him,” you said simply. It wasn’t that big of a deal to you. Thankfully, it wasn’t for the cashier either.

“It will look great on him,” she said, carefully wrapping the skirt in some tissue paper before sliding it into a bag and handing it over to you. You smiled down at the parcel, feeling a warmth in your heart. You thanked her before rushing out of the store to find the Doctor, clutching the bag to your chest protectively.

He didn’t question your bag, especially since you had told him you were going to get something. He just assumed you had treated yourself to something nice.

As the two of you walked back to the TARDIS at the end of the day he finally gathered the courage to ask, “What did you end up getting?”

You followed his eyeline to the bag in your hands. He was looking down at it with thinly veiled interest, clearly excited to see what was inside.

“When we get inside I can show you,” you offered, holding the door to the ship open for him. He nodded as he walked inside. You followed him, setting the bag down on the console. The Doctor was doing a rubbish job of hiding his excitement as you pulled your coat off and got comfortable. The way he was eyeing the bag reminded you of an eager kid waiting to open Christmas presents.

Finally, you pulled the skirt out of the bag, unwrapping the tissue paper so you could hold it up.

“It’s beautiful-” the Doctor exhaled, looking at the skirt with admiration.

“It’s for you,” you explained, handing the skirt over to him. He took the skirt from you, holding it in his hands with a delicacy that was extremely rare for the Time Lord.

“For me?” He asked, clearly confused. He looked down at the skirt in his hands, his face a mix of conflicting emotions.

“I could tell you liked it and you deserved a present,” you smiled.

“You got me a skirt?” he asked, looking up at you with wide eyes.

“I thought you might like it…” you whispered, suddenly worried that you had misinterpreted his interest in the skirt.

“You’re ok with me wearing a skirt?” he asked, his eyes almost watery as he said it.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” you frowned. “If it was an ugly skirt maybe I’d have issues with it, but it’s a really pretty skirt.”

“You got me a skirt,” the Doctor whispered, looking back down at it with a loving smile.

You laughed lightly, shaking your head. “D’you wanna try it on? I had to guess on your size.”

The Doctor nodded, quickly unzipping the skirt. He didn’t even bother with taking his trousers off before slipping it on. He buttoned the skirt and looked down at his new piece of clothing, grinning like a madman.

“It looks great, even with the trousers,” you chuckled, honestly just happy to see the Doctor this overjoyed. You had seen him happy plenty of times, but this was a different kind of happy.

“Really?” he asked, almost self-consciously.

“Prettiest Time Lord I’ve ever seen,” you teased, leaning forward to kiss his cheek softly.

“I’m the only Time Lord you’ve ever seen… Well, besides the Master.”

“Fine, the prettiest alien I’ve been. By far,” you smiled, adjusting his tie. The Doctor’s cheeks slightly reddened at your compliment, which was a rare occurrence. Usually, he was the one making you a blushing mess.

“I really mean it,” you whispered earnestly. The skirt really did suit him.

The Doctor grinned, kissing you quickly, his own way of saying “thank you”

After that, the Doctor started wearing his new skirt all the time. You really loved when you would walk into the control room and he’d be sitting on the floor like a child, the skirt pooling out beneath him as he worked on the console. You loved seeing his mismatched socks sticking over the top of his Converse, the perfectly chaotic pairing for such an elegant skirt.

You ended up buying him another one. And another one after that. One needs variety, after all.

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ieatstarsforaliving · 6 months

Text

The Set-Up for Chapter 4 (3)

Summary: Hazel is really bad at lying. Especially to you.

Pairing: Spider-Woman!Hazel Callahan x Classmate!Reader

Warnings: Mature language, use of (Y/N), mentions of violence and death, I don't know what else honestly it's like 2 AM

Word Count: 4244

Note: I know it's been a while, my bad- turns out this whole university thing actually needs my time and effort to pass or something idk. Anyways, this chapter is lowkey kind of boring cause it's the set-up for the fun upcoming action-filled bloody chapters so just bear with me. But since I was gone for a while this is extra long... at least for me. Next fic is chapter 2 of The Grief We're Given so enjoy the lighthearted fic for now... also am lazy so this is unedited LMAO so it might be bad idc - Bia <3

“(Y/N), I know this may come off as a shock, but I love you too much to hide it from you anymore. I’m actually… the Spider-Woman!”

PJ dramatically pulled off the red mask from her face, striking a pose, earning a laugh from Hazel.

The trio were putting away the equipment they used for the Fight club after all the other members had left the gym— and by that it meant Josie and Hazel were putting away equipments while PJ thought it was a fun idea to dig through Hazel’s backpack to pull out her Spider-Woman mask, put it on, and start doing cartwheels and other nonsense around the gym floor.

“Okay, why don’t you actually help us clean up, PJ,” Josie complained, folding up the floor mats, “Instead of blowing Hazel’s cover?”

“Fine,” PJ rolled her eyes before throwing the mask back to Hazel, who caught it reflexively just as it was about to hit her face. “But even if anyone saw me with the mask, it’s not like they would believe any of us losers could possibly be the amazing Spider-Woman.”

PJ threw a playful grin at Hazel who folded the mask and hid it in her backpack. PJ had been begging her to reveal her superhero identity for a while, saying that it would raise all of their social levels right to the top. Josie, in reverse, begged Hazel not to reveal her identity, especially given the risks involved.

“But what if you just told (Y/N)? Then, she’ll fall in love with you, then automatically she’ll hang out with us more, and by association she’ll bring Isabel and Brittany with her!” PJ argued, still unwilling to drop the topic.

“Yeah, and then the next villain that wants to kill Hazel will take the people she loves as hostage,” Josie warned. “In fact– I know we’ve been doing the self-defense club for a while and it’s been going pretty well so far, but Hazel has exposed herself way too much.”

PJ groaned, indicating her impatience with Josie’s cautious approach. “Okay what part of this is too much? All Hazel’s doing is lightly punching and kicking a bunch of girls.”

“Was it the backflip?” Hazel chimed in.

“Yes, it was the backflip!” Josie blurted. “And we can’t keep saying ‘there’s all sorts of people who teach you stuff in juvie’ as an excuse anymore.”

“But the club is working!” PJ insisted, flailing her arms towards the gym. “Girls are actually acknowledging us in the hallways, I’ve gotten 3 high fives just this afternoon, and girls– the hot ones know our names. And also Female solidarity and whatever. The club is working!”

“I know. I feel like if we keep it up, you guys might actually be able to take down some crime in the area.”

“No, if we keep it up we can put our fingers inside of each other, grow up, Hazel.”

Josie crossed her arms. “Whatever. It’s your call.”

“I do feel like people are liking more than just the hitting and the tackling part of the club.”

The club had moved onto catfights on the gym floor, and it was no secret to Hazel that she always looked forward to these training sessions, particularly when it came to her interactions with you. All the punching, kicking, and rolling around the floor was more than what Hazel believed she deserved, but she couldn’t help but crave a deeper connection with you. And the weekly lunch meetings to make the ‘women murdered in history’ project weren’t exactly enough to get to know each other.

PJ shrugged. “Yeah, I know, we’re empowering them. Duh.”

“No, I mean, seriously, to have a safe space like this, it means a lot to people, and I think if we took some time to spend a meeting and actually get to know these girls, like, it would be really important instead of just…” Hazel pictured the time you were on top of her, pinning her down with your feeble strength, bodies pressed close– so close– as you grappled each other on the floor, listening to the chants and cheers of the girls circling around. Her voice trailed off. “...sweating on them.”

PJ and Josie paused, then looked at each other with an incredulous smile.

“Hazel, that is… genuinely a brilliant idea.”

“I love talking about my trauma.”

Hazel squinted. “That’s not really–”

“-I literally jack off after every single therapy session. It just makes girls weirdly horny.”

Josie shook her head. “Don’t say ‘girls’. It’s just you.”

“Okay!” Hazel interrupted, fearing someone walking in midst of the conversation that turned weird thanks to PJ, as always. “I’ll just email the group about our next meeting.”

You walked into the gym with an excited grin. Fight club was the one thing you looked forward to in school nowadays— it was the only place you felt truly safe and comfortable, with only girl members (minus Mr. G, but he was an ally) who cheered you on with every weak punch that you threw.

Hazel noticed you walking in and waved to you, and you noticed that the format of the club had changed today. Everyone was sitting in a circle, like one of those sharing sessions in kindergarten times. You joined the circle in between Krystal and Hazel, who grinned like an idiot when you sat beside her.

“What’s going on?” You whispered to her, but Josie answered your question.

“So, we know that this club has been a place where we can feel empowered physically, but we also thought it could be a safe space and a place where we can open up and talk about our feelings.”

You nodded along as the girls began to talk about themselves— Sylvie with her stepdad, Stella with her stalker, and Brittany with her jewelry business— and you realized that although you had been fighting each other for a while, you never knew that much about the girls. You listened tentatively to each of their stories, but to your honesty, you were quite distracted by your project partner, who kept opening her mouth, then closed them continuously. She seemed to be contemplating whether or not to open up. Your curiosity piqued, and when your eyes met with her’s, you encouraged her with a supportive look.

Hazel smiled at your aid. She didn’t really know how to talk about the biggest secret that she held about her superpower, but your expression was so supporting– too supporting, that she found herself speaking out.

“Well, ever since…” Hazel began, her mind racing to find the right words.

I’ve been bitten by a radioactive spider,

“...My parent’s divorce,”

I’ve been doing this, like, superhero stuff after school. I don’t even know if I’m doing this right, you know?

“My mom’s been doing this, like, mid-life crisis. I don’t know how that’s sitting with me, you know?”

And it’s just me swinging through buildings and beating criminals up and handing them over to the police who hate me because I’m a faceless vigilante but the entire neighborhood depends on me because some of these criminals are genuinely insane. I’ve broken bones, I’ve fallen through roofs, I got impaled once, that was fun— and it just feels so incredibly amazing but so burdening, all the same time.

“And it's been really really dark.”

She took a glance at you, who was nodding through her words, returning her gaze with tender understanding.

“This has just been really meaningful to me to, like, get to know some new people-”

(Y/N).

“-Who actually wants to, like, get to know me.”

You felt a surge of empathy for Hazel. You could hear the vulnerability shining through her words— it must have been hard to find good friends after experiencing such hardship. You couldn’t help but come to admire her even more.

You raised your hand. “And I just wanted to say that I think it’s very hard to find a good and safe community in school for girls, and I’m really grateful to Hazel for founding this club,” You gushed. “It's really brave of you— and your friends— to take your past and turn it into something so amazing for us. So, thank you.”

Hazel grinned like an idiot, fidgeting with her hair as her face burned up.

“Get a room, you two,” PJ intervened with a smirk. “But seriously, I just want to circle back to what Brittany was saying–”

“-I would like to go next, if that’s okay.” Josie raised her hand.

PJ was obviously discontented, but Josie started anyway.

“I don’t really like talking about juvie and everything that happened over the summer, um, you know, we get a lot of props or whatever cause people think it's so badass, But, really wasn’t. I mean, unless you consider getting hazed horrifically every single night, like, badass. I mean, obviously, you know, we had to survive the tributes, and you know, I did have to, like, fight people basically every single night. People were betting on us and we were given shivs and rusty pocket knives and splintered wood and, um, pipes as well.”

Hazel furrowed her eyebrows. No one’s going to believe this, She thought, turning to look at Isabel—

–Who had the most distressed look on her face?

Oh, Hazel blinked, shocked that Josie’s improvised monologue is working. There were almost tears glistening in Isabel’s eyes. She assumed Isabel to be the only one, then she turned to look at you— and your hand was on your mouth, eyes filled with woe.

“And we had to just like, fight people, sometimes to the death,” Josie added.

Hazel frowned. This wasn’t good.

Josie continued.

“And I still hear their screams at night and that guilt probably will, like, always shackle me forever. And sometimes people still try to attack us in the streets for revenge, or try to blackmail us into doing bad things with them, but I realize now, I don’t have to be that person anymore. We don’t have to be like that anymore. We don’t have to just let things happen to us. Because of you guys. And I am just really grateful for what the club has become and… just especially, you know, from where we started and, uh…”

Hazel’s eyes were leaping out of her face as she gestured to Josie to tone it down. She frantically shook her head, indicating that Josie’s speech had much more effect than she thought it would.

“Yeah, sorry,” Josie caught on, ending her facade quickly. “I feel like I kinda killed the vibe. I’ve never really, I guess, said that to anyone before, sorry.”

There was a silence that Hazel felt the need to break. This was bad– she knew Josie liked talking about her trauma, but she didn't expect Josie to make up the most devastating, hunger-games type of trauma in front of you.

“But juvie also wasn’t that bad,” Hazel blurted. “I mean it’s probably way less scary than adult prison, and it really builds character–”

You turned to look at Hazel who was rambling about the positive effects of juvie. Your heart broke at the sight of panic on her face– how harsh were the conditions of juvie that Hazel felt the need to protect her trauma?

Josie cut in. “Yeah, okay, people wanna wrap up maybe or…”

“I’m going through a divorce.”

Everyone turned to Mr. G.

“Whoo! That shit felt good to say.” Mr. G beamed, his leg stretched out as a free spirit. “Whoo, I tell y’all. Men… men need therapy.”

Josie stood up. “Yeah… I think that’s a good place to maybe wrap up.”

“What was that?” Hazel asked.

Josie shrugged, putting on her jacket. “I don’t… I don’t really–”

“-I mean, you were just bullshitting from A to Z with no breaks in between. I didn’t know you were such an actress, Josie.” PJ laughed, playfully shoving Josie’s shoulder. “You should think about that, for your future career.”

Hazel did not laugh. “Josie, you were the one who told me not to be ‘too much.’”

“I don’t think it was too much. I think it was the exact amount of oomph we needed as a group.” PJ grabbed her shoes from the floor. “It made us look vulnerable but also tough.”

“I don’t think (Y/N) was thinking that.”

“Okay, How do you know what (Y/N) was thinking?”

“I don’t, but I could see her–”

“-Maybe she’ll tell you herself,” PJ said, pointing behind Hazel.

Hazel spun around to see you walking towards her. She immediately straightened herself, touching up her hair as you waved to her.

“Hazel.”

Hazel gulped in response.

“So, I was wondering if you wanted to finish the project today?” You asked, giving a shrug. “If you’re not busy. I know you’re always kind of busy and that’s why we just always did our project during lunch, but–”

“-I’m not busy!” Hazel exclaimed, before mentally slapping herself for being too eager. “I mean, today sounds good. Today is perfect.”

“Okay!” It was your turn to be eager, giving a nod before pointing to the girls locker room. “I’ll just get my bag, and I’ll be right back.”

As you slipped into the locker room, PJ and Josie slid towards Hazel with a curious look.

“It didn’t look like she was angry,” PJ commented with a grin. “So, in conclusion, today was a huge success. Do you guys want to get chicken on a stick to celebrate?”

“I… I think I’m hanging out with (Y/N).” Hazel gaped, as if she couldn’t believe that this was actually happening. She was going to hang out with you. Today. Outside of school.

“Right now?”

“Right now!” Hazel gasped. “Oh my god, I don’t know why I said yes, I have to go and patrol the neighborhood–”

“-Ugh, Hazel!” PJ groaned, grabbing Hazel by the shoulders. “That’s literally all you do. You go to school, you come to the fight club, then you patrol the neighborhood. That’s all you do.”

“But—” Hazel sputtered. “-Crime–”

“-Hazel, Crime has been pretty low recently. The world isn’t going to burn down just because you miss patrol for a single day,” PJ countered, as if speaking to a child. “Do you trust me? It’s all about faith. That’s all it is. Leap of faith, Hazel. Leap of faith. Trust me when I say the police can deal with all the petty crimes. Go and enjoy yourself, finish your project, and remember to use protection.”

Hazel’s cheeks grew hot as she opened her mouth to counter PJ— just as you approached the trio with your bag.

“Hey, Hazel. Ready to go?”

Hazel buffered, her mind still on the sexual innuendo. She couldn’t help but think about certain activities when you stood there with your signature smile, earning a cackle from PJ.

“Sorry, we were just talking about juvie trauma and shit. She’s all yours.” PJ earnestly pushed Hazel towards you. “See you guys tomorrow!”

PJ skipped out of the gym, followed by Josie who gave Hazel a thumbs-up. Hazel responded to Josie with a nod. PJ was right– it was just for a day. Just one day off to hang out with you– which was the dream– and tomorrow, she would patrol twice as hard to make it up.

“Sorry, I just was thinking about-” Hazel faltered. “-things.”

“Things?”

Hazel felt the room get hotter. “It’s fine. Not really important.”

“Alright. So, where do you want to go?” You asked.

“Uh…”

Hazel thought about what PJ had said.

Leap of faith, was it?

And she took the leap.

“Do you want to come over to my place?”

By 8PM, the two of you found yourself in Hazel’s room, caught in a fit of laughter. Pizza and snacks were strewn across her bed, and music played out from her laptop as you wrapped up the project— a lego diorama with a bunch of famous murdered women. It was quite inappropriate but also incredibly creative, and the ridiculousness of it all had you two in stitches.

“I bet you 5 dollars that Mr. G doesn’t even have an actual degree,” You joked, adding a lego version of Casey Becker to the diorama. “He just showed up one day, and Principal Meyers desperately needed more teachers.”

“And ever since the club, he’s just been handing out As to every single girl,” Hazel laughed, causing you to fall into a fit of giggles as well. She lived for your laughter, thanking PJ and Josie in her head for convincing her to skip patrol for the day.

“Okay, I think we’re almost done. Just have to add the blood.” You grabbed the bottle of red paint and dropped some on your fingertip, then dabbed it around the lego characters’ bodies to create the ‘murder’ effect.

In the process, you somehow managed to smudge some on your cheek, which didn’t go unnoticed by Hazel who had made a habit of staring at you all the time.

“Oh, you got some on your…” Hazel tried, pointing to your face.

You blinked, eyes focusing on her face as you registered her words. You chuckled in embarrassment, trying to find the paint on your cheeks and obviously failing.

“Can I…?” Hazel breathed, and you tilted your head, allowing her to wipe away the streak of paint with her thumb. Her fingers moved delicately across your cheek, her eyes locked onto your’s. You could feel the warmth of her hand on your skin, and you melted against it. Hazel’s touch lingered on your cheek for a moment longer than necessary, and Hazel realized only after she had savored the view for a while.

She pulled away, breaking your gaze with a sheepish smile. Your cheeks were tinted with a soft blush, and you muttered a word of thanks before finishing off the project with distractingly loud heartbeats.

The two of you stared at the finalized diorama in proud silence, taking in the project in its glory. It was messy and odd, but it was still illustrious.

“Well, I guess we’re finished!” You clapped your hands to commemorate the ending of you and Hazel’s homework.

“It’s been fun working with you,” Hazel replied, a little disappointed that this was the end of the project. What excuse did she have to hang out with you now?

You cocked your head. “Oh, don’t act like this is the last time we’re ever going to hang out together.”

“Really?”

“Of course!” You grinned. “With Mr. G’s class, lunch, and the self-defense club, I’m going to be with you all the time. You might even get sick of me at some point.”

I’m not sure that’s possible, Hazel thought to herself, really pleased that she had secured friendship with you.

“Speaking of the self-defense club, I’m really glad that you invited me,” You continued, wiping your red hands with a nearby paper towel. “I was being honest during the sharing circle. I’m really grateful for you.”

Hazel softened at your words.

“And I hope your mom gets better with her mid-life crisis,” You added.

“Thank you.” Although you had complimented her, Hazel couldn’t help but feel a bit guilty about the sharing circle. She was lying to you– continuously. Was that a good base for a relationship? Not that you two had a relationship. Not that she didn’t want one. “Listen– what Josie said about juvie today, I think I have to clarify some things.”

You shook your head. You had purposefully left out that subject not to trigger her– and you didn’t want to make it feel like she owed you her history. “Oh, Hazel, you don’t need to explain anything to me. I get that it’s a hard subject to talk about, and I just want you to know that I’m here if you need anything.”

Hazel hesitated. She supposed if you didn’t really want to hear the explanation, she could keep her secret—

“-I mean what you went through was brutal and inhumane,” You continued.

Hazel’s guilt suffocated her.

“But you endured through it. You’re so brave. And so strong and just… honest. Like I can tell that everything that you do is genuine. You make me feel like I can be strong too—”

“-Okay, I need to tell you something,” Hazel interrupted. She couldn’t handle it anymore— but she knew she couldn’t tell you the whole truth. She took a deep breath before continuing. “There are some things happening in my life right now that I can’t really… talk about. But I want to. But I can’t. It’s for your safety and I shouldn’t even be mentioning that but… you really matter to me.”

Oh my god, I can’t believe I said that.

Hazel swallowed hard and gazed at you for a reaction.

“I do?” You peered back at Hazel’s reddened face. She nodded in response and it was your turn to be flustered, not knowing what to say.

“And I… I want to be honest with you,” Hazel pressed on. “I can’t tell you the whole truth. But I—”

“-Dispatch, we have a 10-90 in progress at the bank downtown. Requesting immediate backup and EMT support.”

Shit.

Shit shit shit.

Hazel quickly grabbed her laptop, which she had rigged to eavesdrop on police communications. She forgot that it automatically turned on after school. Why did it have to be now, of all fucking times?

“Was that the police?” You asked, confused.

Hazel shook her head frantically. “No, I just– it’s just another, uhm, project that I’m working on, it’s fine–”

“-Copy that. Units en route. Proceed with caution.”

“We have eyes on the suspects, attempting to establish a perimeter.”

“10-4, be advised, we’ve informed EMTs, and SWAT is en route. Keep us updated.”

Hazel hastily began typing, searching up the latest updates on the current news of the town. She managed to find the location of the bank robbery— which had everything Hazel feared for. Armed robbers, high-tech weaponry, and injured police officers.

“Fuck, I knew I shouldn’t have skipped today,” Hazel muttered under her breath.

You paused. “Skip what?”

“I—” Hazel swallowed, inner conflict evident as she spoke. “-I think I have to go.”

“Go?” You paused. “Hazel, what is going on?”

Hazel didn’t answer. Instead, she stood up and grabbed her phone and her backpack, briskly heading towards the door. But you were faster, quickly running and positioning yourself in the path to block her way.

“I think I know what’s going on,” you claimed, your voice low and heavy.

Hazel froze. Oh no. You knew. You knew? How did you know? Had she been so obvious? Was it the back flip?

“(Y/N), I can explain–”

“-This is related to juvie, isn’t it?”

Hazel blinked.

“What?”

She stared at you, who looked incredibly serious, with lips pursed tight in worry. Hazel shook her head frantically. She wanted to kick PJ for even coming up with that excuse– now it was getting all tangled up with you and her hero work.

“No! It has nothing to do with juvie,” Hazel assured, trying to get past you.

“You don’t have to lie to me, Hazel.”

Hazel furrowed her eyebrows.

I kind of do.

You understood her expression as guilt. “And obviously I don’t understand fully what’s going on but if what Josie said was true and some things are happening with the people you messed with from juvie, then, I want to help you.”

You stepped closer and took her hand, holding it tight with genuinity.

“Hazel, I care about you.”

Hazel released her breath.

If you had said that in any other context, Hazel would have kissed you right there and then. Your hands felt so warm, so gentle– a bit shaky, as if you were afraid of what she would do if you let go. And your unwavering eyes– upset eyes that made it seem like her worries belonged to you too— And it took everything in Hazel to swallow back her words, gently guiding you to her bed and sitting you down.

For a moment, you thought she would stay.

But Hazel pulled away from you..

“I’ll be back soon, okay? Just please, stay here, and I’ll be back,” Hazel whispered. “I promise.”

And after a regretful look, she was gone.

“Hazel—” You called after her. “Hazel!”

Your mind began to race– where was she going? All you remembered from the police transmissions was something about the bank and the SWAT team. You reached for your phone, searching up the local news. It wasn’t hard to find articles related to the current conflict—

Masked Robbers Employ High-Tech Arsenal in Bank Heist, Defying Police Response

Bank Heist Nightmare Unfolds; Thieves Utilize Cutting-Edge Tech

Bank Robbery in Progress: Impossible to Arrest, Police Say

Police Overwhelmed in Ongoing Standoff at 1st Street National Trust Bank

This was bad. Bank robbery? High-Tech Arsenal? It sounded dangerous– more than whatever Hazel could handle, no matter how strong she was during the self-defense club. What was she going to do with these criminals? Did she owe them something? She was always writing stuff in her notebook— did it have anything to do with this?

You ignored the questions stemming from your fear– you didn’t have time to think. Hazel was out there— and she was very clearly heading to an angry, dangerous scene.

But Hazel was just a girl.

And you had to protect her.

You had to save Hazel Callahan.

Previous Chapter: The Fucking Fight Club

Next Chapter

(Guys I don't know how a taglist works so just comment "Tag me next chapter" here BUT if you want to be tagged in all chapters, put "tag me in all upcoming chapters" on THIS POST ok???)

@valenftcrush

#hazel callahan #hazel callahan x reader #bottoms movie #hazel callahan fluff #hazel callahan x you #hazel callahan spiderwoman #bottoms (2023)#josie bottoms #pj bottoms

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vioartemis · 1 year

Text

I’ll die with you

(Tara Carpenter x fem! reader)

Summary: Months after the 2022 massacre, you reunite with someone dear to you. But the happiness in only temporary; a new killer is targeting you. Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3 || Part 4 || Part 5 || Part 6 || Part 7 a/n: This will probably be a multi chapters story with very irregular posting :)) Warnings: blood, injuries, Ghostface stuff, angst (English isn't my first language, I'm sorry if there are mistakes or if something doesn't make sense TvT)

"Hey, I'm not going to disappear okay?"

You laughed as your girlfriend pouted when you pushed her away gently. You were lying on her bed, her on top of you kissing you desperately as if you were about to vanish.

"It's just two days Tara, maybe less knowing her"

"Well that's still too long! Who's going to cuddle with me if you're not here? And my morning kiss?"

"I'll make up this, I promise" you kiss her "After this weekend"

She groaned slightly, disappointed. But she knew it was important for you.

"Can we stop talking now? I want to enjoy our last moment together..."

"Don't be dramatic, it's not our last moment together. When you say it like that it looks like we will never see each other again..."

She didn't answer and kissed you again, desperately.

You hadn't been separated in a while since the... incident. You were so used to be on each other all day it was hard being without her for too long.

Her lips were soon on your neck, placing hot, wet kisses here, sucking dark purple marks there, hands everywhere on you. You let out a sight, fingers tangled in her hair.

"Tara..."

She hummed against your skin, hands sliding under your shirt. You felt her smile on your shoulder when she felt you shivering under her cold fingers.

You arrived late at the train station, hair still a little messy. You rolled down your window and looked around for the person you were waiting. She wasn't difficult to spot with her blue suit.

You texted her you were there. She looked up, and starting walking toward you, a smile replacing her previous frown.

"Where did you get that car? Are you even allowed to drive it?" she asked as she took place next to you

"I stole it"

She gave you a "are you serious" look. You rolled your eyes, smiling.

"I'm kidding, I bought it. And yes, I have a licence"

You started to drive home calmly.

"How was New York?" you asked

"Oh you know, with work I don't really have time to visit"

"You know that's not what I meant"

"I know"

"... It's going to get better right...? Does it ever go away...?"

"Not completely, never. It's normal to feel that way. You cared about him, we both did. Time will ease the pain, but he will still be in our hearts. Forever"

She had never been good at reassuring anyone, but this time she found the right words.

Months after, your dad's death still hurt. It was normal, you knew it. You wanted to get over it, like everyone told you, but there was always that part of yourself that still believed he would come home.

"I'm back" he would say with a smile "Sorry I made you wait, the delivery guy forgot the sauce, again"

But that never happened. It never would.

With your mom out of town, you didn't think too much about him. Or at least that's what you said not to worry Tara. Now that she was back, even if it was only a weekend, the good old days came back, flashing before your eyes.

You parked in front of the house, tears in your eyes.

"How can you not cry...?" you asked with a nervous laugh, trying to light up the mood

"I'm Gale Weathers, I don't cry. Not in public"

"Of course, why did I even asked?"

You both smiled a little, getting out of the car and inside the house.

You started making diner, telling her some things you learnt while she was gone, trying to give her ideas for a new novel.

"Why don't you tell me about your life? It would make an interesting book. A spicy one for sure"

So she saw the hickeys.

"Mom!"

You blushed hard, embarrassed.

"No you're right, writing about people only attracts psychos. I wouldn't want your girlfriend or you getting hurt"

"Thank you?"

You both laughed and had a good time watching your favorite series while eating, until her phone rung.

"What does he wants? I told him I was off this weekend" she mumbled

"Pick up"

"What?"

"Maybe it's important"

She looked at you for a second, before getting up and taking the call. When she came back, you already knew what she was going to say.

"They learnt I was back here and now they want me to-"

"I know. It's fine, we had a good time, you can go"

"I'm sorry Y/n..."

She hugged you tight.

"You're Gale Weathers, the best reporter. No wonder everyone wants you"

She smiled a little, relieved you weren't mad, and was quick to go.

It always ended up that way with her. But it wasn't her fault. You knew she ment it when she said she was sorry.

You sighed and called your girlfriend.

"Guess who has to work even on her days off?" you said when she picked up

"She's gone already?"

"Yep. That was quicker than I thought... want to come over to keep me company?"

"Is that even a question? I'm on my way, wait for me baby"

You smiled at her words.

"Don't hang up, I want to talk to you on your way here"

"Oh yeah? What are you gonna tell me? Tease me?"

"Maybe..." you said innocently

The landline suddenly started ringing, making you jump.

"Shit"

"What's going on?"

"Landline. Who still uses this?" you mumbled

You walked to the phone and picked up, putting Tara on speaker so you could still hear her.

"Hello?"

"Is this uh... Y/n Riley?"

"Depends. What do you want?"

"You ordered something on our website, it should be there"

"Why do you call me for that?"

"Well... I think we send you the wrong package..."

"Y/n what's going on? Who is it?"

You texted your girlfriend about the situation while talking with the guy.

"I suppose you want me to check?"

"Yep"

"And uh... what did I ordered again? I don't remember"

"I think it was... a painful death."

You hang up immediately and let go of the phone. A voice changer. He was using a fucking voice changer.

"Baby! Is everything okay?"

"Yeah... just a stupid guy using a voice changer for a stupid prank..."

"Are you sure of that?"

The voice came from behind you. You turned around so quickly your neck hurt.

You felt your heart drop in your chest when you saw a tall, dark silhouette looking at you through a Ghostface mask.

"Hello, Y/n"

You were frozen in place, incapable of moving. The Ghostface took a step closer to you, tilting his head slightly, knife in hand.

That's when your legs came back. You ran as quickly as you could, trying to tell Tara on the phone.

"Tara it's Ghostface! Fuck I-"

You couldn't finish your sentence. He grabbed you violently by the waist, making you let go of your phone. It slid on the floor.

He stabbed your abdomen, a hand over your mouth. You let out a muffled scream, and tried to escape his strong grip.

You managed to bit his hand, hard. He kicked you forward, swearing under his breath.

You barely had time to grab a lamp nearby and turn around that he was already on you again, fingers wrapping around your neck, choking you.

You dropped the lamp as he lifted you up before pressing your back against the chimney. Breathing was becoming difficult. To make things better, he sank his blade into you again, twisting it painfully this time. Blood splattered on the floor.

You struggled against him, trying to get his hand off of your neck. But he was stronger than you, you couldn't do anything.

You reached behind you, desperate, when your hands found what you thought was a vase. With all the strength you still had, you slammed it on his head.

His stumbled backward, holding his head, letting you fall to the ground. You gasped for air but didn't waste more time and staggered up.

You tried to reach your phone on the way to the door, but you were pushed to the ground. You started crawling, tears flooding down your cheeks.

"Tara help!" you yelled, voice broken

Ghostface grabbed your hair and tugged your head backward harshly, one of his knees on your back to keep you on the floor.

"No one can save you. You will die alone, just like your father."

He slammed your head against the floor. You let out a cry which only grew bigger when he stabbed you on your side. He did it again. And again. And again. You were coughing blood at this point.

You didn't want to die. You couldn't die. You were screaming for help, crying and bleeding on the floor, Ghostface on top of you. You could still hear Tara's voice on the phone, a few meters away.

He pulled on your hair again, slamming your head on the floor once more. You started to feel dizzy. Everything was blurred around you, your ears were ringing.

So that's the end... you thought as he pulled your head back up.

"Tara..." you let out in a breath

He slammed your head back down again, harder than before.

I love you, was what you wanted to say. But everything turned black before you could open your mouth again.

When she arrived at your house, heart beating faster than ever, hands shaking, she saw him. Tall. Black costume. Bloody knife. He was running away.

Then her eyes fell on your body, lying in a pool of blood in your living room.

"Y/n!"

She ran to you, turning you around so you were on your back. Your face was covered in blood, fresh tears on your cheeks. She looked at you in horror. Her worst nightmare just became real.

Your necklace with her initial, stained with your blood, was hanging lazily around your neck, red from earlier.

Tears were rolling down her cheeks when she tried to take your pulse. She gasped when she felt it. She held your head with one hand, the other taking one of your own.

"Baby please stay with me... I called an ambulance it will be here any minute now..."

She had almost lost her voice from screaming when you were being attacked. Hearing you cry for help and not being able to to anything had killed her.

When the ambulance arrived, you were still unconscious in her arms. They forced her to back up while they were taking care of you. She didn't want to. She needed to be close to you. But they didn't let her.

From where she was, she could hear their conversation. It only made her heart ache.

"We're losing her! Get ready to shock her! 1, 2, 3, go!"

"She's losing too much blood!"

After what felt like an eternity, they put you on a stretcher into an ambulance. Tara made her way to you but was stopped quickly.

"You can't go further miss."

"Is she alive?" she asked, panicked

"She was clinically dead for 3 minutes. But we brought her back. Now if you want her to live have to take her to the hospital. And no, you can't come with us, we need to be by her side. You will see her at the hospital"

They left her here, crying on the sidewalk in front of your house. After a minute, she headed to the hospital, walking as fast as her legs allowed.

Once she was there, she was told she couldn't see you yet. She tried to argue, but that was useless. She "would only have to wait a little" as the lady said.

She took the opportunity to call your mother, your friends, and her sister to tell them everything.

The first to arrive was your mom, as expected. She seemed devastated. She got mad when she learnt she couldn't see you right now and started yelling at the lady before Tara dragged her away.

They had to wait half an hour before someone told them they could see you. You were still asleep, but your life wasn't in danger anymore.

Tara sat next to you and took your hand, stroking it gently, while Gale sat on the other side, watching you with tears in her eyes.

"... Can you watch her for a minute...? I have to tell Sidney..." she asked your girlfriend

"I'll call you if she wakes up"

She thanked her and got out of the room, taking her phone with shaking hands.

You would soon wake up, not believing you were still alive, and burst into tears in your girlfriend's arms only able to think about one thing; you had a killer on the hunt again.

[Next part]

#tara carpenter #tara carpenter x reader #tara carpenter x fem reader #scream #scream 5

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heliads · 1 year

Note

sorry to send in two requests but if you've got the time Luke Patterson x reader where she is his tutor for English or something and he develops a crush, so even when he understands the stuff she's teaching him he pretends to be confused so that the tutoring sessions last longer. And then one day he gets a good grade and she's proud of him but that means the sessions are over so he builds up the courage to ask her out? You can put this at the bottom of the list or not even write it because I know how swamped your requests get, but ily.

do not apologize for two requests!! my blog exists for you!! and jatp s2 may be dead but my feelings for that show are not. xoxo

masterlist

Luke Patterson is currently fighting a one-man war against his English class, and he is losing. Badly. This was not supposed to be his problem class, he was thinking the biggest struggle would be math or science, but surprise surprise, there’s no such thing as a class you can just skate through. He tried to skate through English. He tried really, really hard, but instead of Spark Notes-ing his way through whatever classic book they threw his way, Luke’s staring at a bright red D on his latest essay.

This would happen to be the most recent essay they were assigned, the one Luke pushed off until the last minute because he was too invested in getting some good songs down on paper. He hadn’t meant to procrastinate, he never does, it’s just that whenever Luke had a spare hour or two, it’s always far more tempting to head out to the studio and mess around with some chord progressions than to do homework.

This essay had gone just like all the other ones so far this year. The book had been assigned, the essay followed not soon after, and Luke told himself that he was going to start it on time for a change. The only problem was that he came home late that day after a shift at his job, so he couldn’t start it that day, and then he was studying for a test the next day, and after that he was working on songs. Before he knew it, it was the night before and he was speed writing to get everything down in time. Luke doesn’t even think he had time to proofread before turning in that mess.

So yeah, he shouldn’t really be surprised about this grade in particular. Still, he isn’t pleased about it. He doesn’t want to see the look on his parents’ face when he dodges another question about his grades, nor listen to all the other kids in his class talk about how easy that essay prompt was. Everything just makes him feel worse.

And, if Luke’s day couldn’t get any better, his English teacher pulls him aside after class to talk about it.

“I noticed your last few assignments haven’t been going as expected,” she says sympathetically, “is there anything you want to tell me about that?”

There’s a lot Luke wants to tell her, such as the fact that this class is dry as a saltine and twice as bland. They’ve spent the last few classes just going over social hierarchies around the time when the book was written, talk about boring. If Luke wanted to study history, he’d read a textbook.

He can’t say all that without damaging his final grade even more, though, so Luke plasters on a grin and does his best impression of an earnest student who’s just had a bad string of luck. “Not really, I’ve just been so busy recently that I didn’t have enough time to really ponder the prompt, you know?”

Usually, this is Luke’s best strategy for getting out of these kinds of nonsense conferences. He’ll whip out a few key words like ‘time commitments’ and whatnot and his teachers will fall for it every time.

He might have done this too often, though, because his teacher just nods and refuses to let him go. “That makes sense to me. Do you think it would help to spend a little more time exploring the prompt or connecting the book to the essay topics?”

“Sure,” Luke says vaguely. He’s only half paying attention; he just saw Reggie outside the door mouthing the words what did you do?? as dramatically as he could.

The teacher looks pleased by this. “That’s what I thought. I’ve gone ahead and signed you up for some tutoring sessions, you’ll start this afternoon after school.”

Luke blinks. “Wait, what?” Clearly, he hasn’t been paying attention nearly enough. Since when was tutoring on the table?

The teacher spreads her hands. “You need a little more help and organization to stay on track. Tutoring is the perfect answer to this.”

“Is it?” Luke asks feebly.

“Absolutely,” the teacher decides, and that’s that. Luke tries to wheedle his way out of it through repetition of how busy he is, like, all the time, but it doesn’t matter. She’s caught him in a half-lie and there’s nothing he can do to avoid it.

Reggie’s waiting for Luke outside the door when he finally leaves. “What happened in there?”

“Pure misery,” Luke groans, and contemplates giving himself a concussion by ‘accidentally’ falling down the stairs so he can go home without having to go to tutoring.

Unfortunately, Reggie enlists Alex in keeping Luke free of head trauma, and so he finds himself in an empty classroom later that afternoon, mournfully watching all of the other students leave the school with no doubt wonderful plans awaiting them.

Luke’s just starting to wonder if his tutor isn’t going to show up after all (after fifteen minutes, he’s legally allowed to leave, right) when someone slides into the seat in front of him.

“Sorry about being late,” they gasp, “I just found out I was doing this like ten minutes ago.”

Luke breaks his desolate stare out the window to glance at his tutor and instantly, he feels the crushing weight of shame bear down on him tenfold. It would have been one thing to have a total stranger be his tutor, someone Luke could avoid looking at in the hallways and never speak to again, but he knows this girl. More importantly, he’s thought she was cute for at least the last four years.

This is the worst case scenario, then. Y/N L/N is smart, she’s pretty, and judging by the fact that Luke always sees her in a group of friends laughing at her jokes, she’s funny, too. Definitely someone Luke would want to impress through gigs or shows instead of, say, his crumbling English grades.

“I’m Y/N,” she says, and Luke realizes that she’s probably been waiting for him to say something. Great, he can’t even introduce himself properly.

“Luke,” he answers, “but you probably knew that already.”

Y/N laughs, and judging by the slightly manic tone behind it, she’s just about as composed about the whole thing as he is. That makes him settle slightly in his chair, lowering his guard. “I was told that I would be tutoring you when I was trying to leave class. Ms. Brown pulled me aside when the bell rang and told me about it.”

“That makes two of us,” Luke grumbles.

The corners of Y/N’s lips quirk up before she manages to tamp them down again, and if Luke weren’t totally out of his mind, he might even say that Y/N has the same attitude towards their English teacher as he does. That would certainly make this whole tutoring experience a lot more interesting.

“So,” she says, clearing her throat in an attempt to sound official, “you wanted to talk about essay pointers, right?”

Luke starts to say something about how he didn’t want any of this, actually, but Y/N arches a brow and he relents. “Yeah, essay stuff. The last one didn’t go over too hot.”

Y/N tilts her head to the side, contemplating this. “Did you agree with her grading?”

“Yeah,” Luke admits, “she wasn’t wrong to mark me down, I kind of did it the night before in one sitting.”

Y/N frowns. “Really? Why’d you put it off so long? I thought you liked writing. Whenever I see you, you’re always jotting something down in that notebook of yours.”

Luke grins. “You’ve been watching me? That’s creepy, you know.” He’s obviously holding back a laugh, though, so the comment has no trace of a barb.

Y/N rolls her eyes, although her face looks a little hot at the moment. “Just answer the question.”

“Alright,” he says, hands raised in mock surrender, “you’re right, I do like writing.”

“Then why wait until the last minute to do the essay? I mean, I get not having a ton of time to work on assignments, but if you really do enjoy writing, it shouldn’t be all that bad, right?”

Luke groans. “ This is different. It’s not fun writing,” he tries to excuse himself.

It sounds bad even to him. Already, Luke can see how this is going to play out– she’ll laugh at him, maybe, say that someone who just got a grade like him can’t possibly be thinking about writing and fun in any way at all. She doesn’t, though. Instead, she nods and smiles at him. A real smile. Not mocking in any way.

“What is fun writing, then?” She asks.

Luke blinks in surprise. “Well, writing songs is fun, I guess,” he stammers, “stuff that actually matters, you know? All these essays are the exact same, but songs are all different. That’s why I care about them and not some pointless paper.”

Y/N nods. “That makes sense to me. So you release music, right?”

Luke isn’t sure where she’s going with this, but he’s perfectly happy to talk about music instead of that offensive red scribble all over his paper, so he plays along. “Yeah, me and my band. We try to, at least.”

“Have you ever gotten a review that bothered you? Not because they didn’t like it, but because they disliked your songs for the wrong reason? Like you had a whole story in mind for your album but the critics just ignored it?” She prompts him.

“Yeah,” Luke says, eyes widening with irritation, “Man, it’s so annoying. You go to all the trouble of writing out these ideas, and you make them have a really good meaning, too, and then it’s like they never read it at all. It makes me so mad sometimes, I want to write a column or something in response about how they totally missed my point.”

“Like, say, an argumentative essay about the real strengths of your chosen piece of writing?” Y/N says as casually as she can.

Luke’s about to argue and say that’s not like this at all, but on second thought, it is. It totally is. “Wait, you’re right. I never thought about it like that, but you’re right. Y/N L/N,” he decides on the spot, “I really like you.”

She grins back at him. “Luke Patterson, I like you too.”

That settles it for him. Luke had been annoyed at the thought of having to suffer through tutoring beforehand, but maybe he’ll be alright with it now. Y/N isn’t a part of the oppressive legion of teachers all conniving to make his life a living hell because he wants to be a musician instead of a doctor or a banker, she’s on his side. That makes it all better somehow.

And, unsurprisingly, it is better. Luke actually ends up having a really good time in his tutoring sessions with Y/N. They don’t feel like tutoring at all, more like a chance to hang out with a friend. They talk about Jane Austen and tell awesome jokes, read Shakespeare and spend more and more time together. Luke knows this is only a temporary thing until his grades get back up, but it’s too easy to forget that.

Until, one day, it isn’t. His English teacher hands back an essay with a bright red ‘A’ marked on the front, and tells him that she’s proud of all the progress he’s made so quickly. Instead of a sigh of relief, the only thing escaping Luke’s lips is a desolate sigh. After all, if Luke’s improved to this point, that kind of means his tutoring sessions will be over, right?

Y/N doesn’t know that, though. Y/N doesn’t have access to his grades. All she knows is what Luke tells her, and if informing her of his latest essay win means she’ll stop seeing him after school, why should Luke let slip a single syllable?

So, later that day, when Y/N asks him how the latest essay went, Luke shrugs and pretends to be disappointed. “I’d hoped for more,” he says, “she, uh, didn’t like my commentary.”

“Really?” Y/N questions, frowning slightly, “I thought you were really good at that.”

Luke’s eyes widen, caught in a lie. “Who knows with teachers, right?” He laughs weakly.

Y/N pretends to shudder. “I know, right? I feel like half of your grade is literally just how much she likes you. English classes are always so subjective.”

“Subjective?” Luke asks, grinning and propping his chin up on his hand, “Tell me about that.”

Y/N laughs. “Only if you promise we’ll talk Jane Eyre immediately afterwards. Immediately.”

“I so swear,” Luke intones, holding up his right hand with all the solemnity of a president being sworn into office.

Y/N swats him on the shoulder with her notebook, but she obliges, and maybe they don’t talk about Jane immediately. Maybe they laugh a little longer than usual. And maybe, just maybe, Luke thinks that he’s perfectly fine with obscuring the truth if it means he can have more of this when he needs it the most.

The truth, unfortunately, has a habit of making itself heard regardless of who is inclined to hide it. Luke comes into their usual study spot in the library one day to see Y/N waiting for him, not already in her seat like normal but standing tentatively at the side.

He frowns, slinging his backpack down on the ground and pulling up a chair. “Everything alright? You look like you’re about to run. If you’ve got something planned, we can do this another day.”

Y/N shakes her head slightly. “No, I’m free all day.”

Luke gestures towards the table. “Then sit down, my legs are getting tired just looking at you. We’ve got stuff to study, don’t we?”

“Well, that’s what I was going to ask about,” Y/N says, “Ms. Brown stopped me after class today, said she had someone else she wanted me to tutor. I said I was already booked with you and she was confused. Apparently you’ve been doing just fine for quite some time.”

Luke feels his breath catch in his throat. This is not how he’d wanted Y/N to find out. For what must be the hundredth time this year, Luke sends out a silent curse to all meddlesome English teachers.

“Yeah,” he says as carefully as he can, “I have, but only because of your expert tutoring. It’s like antibiotics, you know? You don’t stop taking ‘em when you start feeling better, only when the prescription is over.”

Y/N blinks at him in surprise. “What are you talking about?”

He runs a hand through his hair, trying not to feel like everything is slipping out of control in an instant. “It was a simile, sorry. A bad one. All I mean is that we don’t have to stop this just because I got a good grade or two.”

Y/N almost looks like she’s smiling, but that could just be Luke being delusional. “I thought you didn’t want to do tutoring.”

“I didn’t at the start, but you’re different. We’re cool. We are cool, right?” Luke starts rambling more and more with each passing second, but he can’t help it. He’s overthinking everything. What if he’s literally just been a tutee this whole time, and she doesn’t think they’re friends at all?

Y/N stares at him a second longer, then takes a seat at last. “Luke Patterson, are you telling me that you like my company so much that you’re willing to keep going to extra English practice just to see me?”

Luke can feel his face heating up, but he does his best to ignore it. “Well, when you put it that way, it sounds–” He still has a little bit of self control left, so he cuts himself off before he can make a truly terrible mistake.

Y/N catches him, though. “It sounds like what?”

“It sounds like I like you,” he admits, and Y/N’s smiling at him, so he decides to take the leap of faith and just do what he’s been wanting to do for quite some time. Since the start of this, actually. “And I do like you. I like you a lot. I might not need the tutoring anymore, but that doesn’t mean I want to stop seeing you. So what if we met up sometime soon? Not for English, for us.”

Luke decides that he likes Y/N’s smile more than anything. “Are you asking me out?” She says.

“I am,” he affirms. “Are you saying yes?”

“I am,” she repeats.

Suddenly, Luke feels like the luckiest kid of all. Maybe he does have to throw in a good word or two for meddlesome English teachers after all. Sometimes they have a way of connecting you with the best people in the world.

requested by @thatfangirl42, i hope you enjoy!

jatp tag list: @rogueanschel, @retvenkos, @callsign-scully, @lovesanimals0000, @amortensie

#luke patterson #luke patterson imagines #luke patterson x reader #luke patterson oneshot #jatp #jatp imagines #jatp x reader #jatp oneshot #julie and the phantoms #julie and the phantoms imagines #julie and the phantoms x reader #julie and the phantoms oneshot #jatp luke #jatp luke imagines #jatp luke x reader #jatp luke oneshot

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