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hannie-dul-set · 5 months

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six quick and easy hacks to 🆙 the quality of your fanfiction!

as promised, here it is! i’m not here to tell you how to plot out your story, or how to write your characters’ personalities. the tips i’m sharing are more on formatting and structure, secret (not really) cheat codes to instantaneously make your already written work even better!

my qualifications? being a tumblr hag for over five years (my even more embarrassing pre k-pop writeblr included!) so i’ve unlocked quite a bit of secrets and discovered some eurekas throughout my time here HAHAHAH. anyway, let’s start!

#1 VARIETY IN PARAGRAPH LENGTHS, SENTENCE LENGTHS, AND SENTENCE STARTERS.

nothing turns me off more than seeing paragraph blocks after paragraph blocks when looking for some new fics to read, especially when you’re reading from a cramped up device such as your phone.

when i write a lengthy paragraph, i try to follow it up with a one-liner, or a mid-sized one. but it’s something i consciously keep track of— when i noticed that, “oh, this gdoc is getting a little too wordy, a little too chunky,” i make sure that my next paragraph is significantly shorter than the current one because it keeps the entire page interesting. one to two sentences of lines of paragraphs after another and another doesn’t look pretty. chunks of paragraphs after paragraphs is boring.

make your pages visually dynamic by ensuring variety.

like this, for example.

→ fic: home for the bitchless.

seeing a large chunk of text and a singular line immediately after also sort of forces your reader to stick around and read an otherwise intimidating lengthy paragraph because— oh! what could have possibly led to that singular like of dialogue or thought! #subtlemanipulation you get me? 😔🤙

this rule of mine applies to sentences and phrases within the paragraph as well!

→ fic: love vomit.

and as a bonus, you can use paragraph breaks and cuts to your advantage! manipulating the way a sentence or paragraph ends in a certain way makes your works more rhythmic! and, when you play it around the right way, abrupt cuts and breaks also add the right mood and drama to your work!

→ drabble: the boy who cried wolf.

part three of tip number one (one…we’re still at number one…) is on sentence and paragraph starters. i keep it as a rule of thumb that if i start a paragraph with “you,” or with someones name, i don’t use it again in the next one to avoid monotony. it’s a very miniscule thing really, and i doubt that people notice this HAHAHA but this is something i religiously swear by because repetitions like this are visually boring.

→ wip: sunwater.

of course, this can’t be avoided all the time, and repeating the sentence starter “You” or any other pronoun, word, or phrase can be intentionally utilized to strongly drive a point. just don’t overdo it!

→ drabble: patience, patience.

→ blurb: monsters don’t hide under the bed.

→ fic: the psychology of strawberries.

there are other good and strategic uses for repetitions as well! we’ll get to that later.

lastly, variety in sentence and paragraph starters doesn’t simply mean changing up the first word. things can still get really boring even if you use “you” or a character’s name interchangeably if your sentence structure remains the same.

this, for example, is monotonous.

the structure (and length) of all three sentences are the same. A does this. B does this. A does this. and even if you switch things up but still use the same sentence structure, it still falls flat. case in point, below, a structure i often see in a lot of fics i stumble across.

those are flat. those are boring. they don’t…you know…make you feel something, even when you follow the rule of not using the same starter twice. let me try improving it by adding more variety in the sentences (+ adding a tip that i’ll be discussing right after!)

the word “He” here is used twice to create a rhythm and draw emphasis, but the rest of the excerpt maintains a sense of variety to make the narrative more interesting and compelling to read.

#2 PICK A POV AND STICK WITH IT.

before i start a scene, a drabble, or blurb, the first question i ask myself is, “whose point of view do i want it to be in?”

one, it’s a lot neater, more organized, than omniscient point of views in my opinion (unless you’re like a super fucking skilled writer of course HAHAHHA). two, it allows for a bit of mystery, suspense, and engagement because you don’t have access to what other people are thinking about, and three— in line with the first tip— when you know whose brain you’re in when writing, it allows for more dynamic narrations, gives you an excuse to be messy because our internal thoughts are messy as well, and makes the writing a hell of a lot easier when you’re focused on monologuing one person alone!

when writing shorter fics, drabbles, or blurbs, i swear by this rule, no excuses HAHAHAH but when writing longer fics, sometimes i switch around the point of views per scene, just to make a more well rounded story.

sometimes, the point of view doesn’t even have to be any of the main character’s! writing from an external POV is also really fun and adds another layer of interest. see example below, a Jeonghan breakup fic written exclusively from the perspective of the outsiders. very fun idea!

breakup scene written in Seungcheol’s POV.

another squabble written in Seungkwan’s POV.

→ wip: the breakup soup.

#3 REPETITIONS AND THEMES = COHESIVENESS.

this section contains tricks on how to wrap up your fics into one cohesive little present with a pretty ribbon on top!

first is the use of repetition. use a cool funky line at the beginning of your story, and reuse/rehash/revise it at the end for a neat finish, especially when you have trouble figuring out a way to end your story (lifesaving hack! trust me!)

i use this mostly in my shorter works—

→ drabble: you’re my bucket list.

→ blurb: louder.

—but it works just as well with longer fics, especially when the repetition is all throughout, and not just at the start and finish.

→ fic: mogi.

sometimes, it doesn’t even have to be a repeated phrase or line! it can be a little gimmick and it’d still work to make your fic cohesive! for example, in the fic below, i use the giving of strawberry candy/strawberry kisses to tie all the different scenes together because this was initially a set of separate drabble ideas wrapped into one long fic.

→ fic: the psychology of strawberries.

and for this one (another ricky fic….yes…..) i use the whole cat metaphor to do the same.

→ drabble: yours to keep.

the next tip to make your work cohesive is to grab a singular theme, object, whatever, and take advantage of it for your narration HAHAHAHHA this can be better explained by looking at the examples below.

theme: citrus.

→ drabble: citrus in the morning.

theme: storm.

→ blurb: blizzard.

the above examples are my shorter works, but it can work for longer fics as well! just check out this 36k word monster HAHAHAHHA.

theme: seasons.

→ fic: love vomit.

these are very simple ways to make your fic more put together! even if it’s just a simply blurb about a confession, adding a theme to aid the imagery bumps your fic quality to a +++++

#4 THROW AWAY THE Y/N’S!

now this one is quite honestly just a personal nitpick HAHAHHAHA but seeing the word Y/N when i’m reading something really pulls me out of my immersion. (and i only stopped using Y/N’s in my fics at the start of my 2023 comeback….so if you see my older works still using it…hahahha please don’t prosecute me).

anyway, you can do this either by embedding it in the narration—

→ fic: star studded baggage.

—or by using nicknames and titles instead!

→ wip: the breakup soup.

→ fic: can’t handle this.

#5 GET INTO THE (UN)NECESSARY SPECIFICS.

instead of just saying “Your professor called you,” grab a random last name and say “Prof Yoon asked to see you in his office.” instead of saying you went to the cafe, the mall, the store, grab an actual place or make one up because no one in the world says “they’re going to the cafe to grab a frappe,” (unless the store’s name is actually The Cafe). people say they’re going to Dunkin Donuts or Coffeebreak or wherever.

sure it’s not plot relevant, sure it’s not integral, but little things like this make your narrative and dialogue a lot more realistic and less awkward. it makes it seem like your characters are actually living inside a world of their own.

#6 GRAMMAR AND FORMATTING.

these are given HAHA but when i talk about grammar, i mean making sure that the commas and periods are consistently inside the quotation marks when writing dialogue. i mean minimizing the use of italics because overusing it can ruin the reading experience of a good piece (i was guilty of this too!) and i mean making sure that the use of tenses are consistent all throughout (unless if it’s a creative and plot choice), because all these things really matter if you want your fic, drabble, or blurb to be of overall high quality.

and that’s basically it! hope these tips help somehow...hope i’m not revealing my secrets for naught and someone can actually put them to good use HHAHAHHA what’s most important obviously is that you’re having fun with what you’re writing…etc. etc. insert inspirational you can do it speech here.

anyway, happy new year! and happy reading and writing<33

#writing hacks ft. my self promos HAHAHAHHAHA #tomorrow x together x reader #enhypen x reader #nct x reader #seventeeen x reader #zerobaseone x reader #riize x reader

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pancakes4two · 1 year

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sweet nothings

wc: 2.1k

preview: The rest of the world is so eager to view him like an object, assume that just because he spends his life in the public view, he’s somehow devoid of insecurities. But to you, he’s still the same Harry who cried backstage at Wembley after his voice cracked during a solo. The same shy, innocent boy who vomited backstage after his first show, terrified that he’d messed it all up.

An article criticizing Harry blows up on the internet, and it hits him harder than expected. Luckily, you’re there to help pick up the pieces.

MASTERLIST | READ MY LATEST SERIES

Industry disruptors and soul deconstructers, and smooth-talking hucksters out glad-handing each other

And the voices that implore, "You should be doing more," to you I can admit that I'm just too soft for all of it.

—Sweet Nothing, Taylor Swift

———

The article is released on a Friday afternoon. It's absolutely brutal—rips single every creative project Harry's ever done to shreds and leaves no endeavor unscathed. Every sentence is a biting remark, each paragraph swirled with vile accusations. It starts by criticizing his film roles, the creative direction he took in his third album, then accuses him of extorting his own fans. The author questions not only his artistry but his personhood, digs up unverified claims of rudeness and twists them into a narrative of Harry being an egotistical, ungrateful pop star. Within the hour, almost every major news station has picked the story up. It doesn’t matter how far-fetched it is. The internet takes to the author’s vitriol like wildfire, sharing it across social media platforms and online forums. Everyone wants to be the first to say they always knew something wasn’t quite right about him, that it’s about time someone knocked him off his pedestal.

It’s disgusting in every sense of the word. And it hurts even more because Harry is blissfully unaware. He’s asleep beside you now, the two of you having settled into bed to take a quick nap together three hours earlier, when the internet had yet to point their pitchforks towards him. You know he’s been overextending himself lately, still sleeping off the jet lag from tour but unwilling to slow down his life on account of tiredness. He’s always been like that, so dedicated to his music, because to him, putting less than two-hundred percent into the thing he loves most would be a waste. You can hardly remember the last time he’d slept earlier than two after coming home—even without touring commitments, he’s still found a way to keep himself busy—staying late in the studio and meeting with executives from his record label to review the marketing plan for his next album. He’s always thinking about the future, how he can reinvent himself and make sure he can stay doing what he loves for as long as possible.

It’s why he’d deserved this chance to unwind and relax in the quiet of your home. But now, he’s going to wake up to a rogue journalist completely assassinating his character, when all he’s ever wanted to do is sing and make others happy. The way you see it, it’s not the least bit fair.

You look at Harry and brush his curls away from his face gently so as to not wake him. Your phone is still turned on, the article glaring angrily against your palm as you watch him sleep. He looks so peaceful, his arm curled around your waist and his legs tangled with yours as if he can’t bear to be far away from you even in slumber. You wish everyone else could see him like this: soft and vulnerable, his lips upturned ever-so-slightly like he’s dreaming about something particularly pleasant.

The rest of the world is so eager to view him like an object, assume that just because he spends his life in the public view, he’s somehow devoid of insecurities. But to you, he’s still the same Harry who cried backstage at Wembley after his voice cracked during a solo. The same shy, innocent boy who vomited backstage after his first show, terrified that he’d messed it all up. Ten years down the road and he’s gained confidence, for sure. But when he’s not busy being this glittering, hip-wiggling rockstar who moves like he’s got the whole world in the palm of his hand, he’s just Harry. He still wrings his hands nervously before every performance, burns his tongue on hot tea that’s meant to preserve his voice. You remember what he said to you back in June before his first stadium show: I don’t think I’ll ever be able to be someone who doesn’t care about what others think of them. He cares more than the article’s author and the legions of people criticizing his every move online will ever know.

You shuffle forward, closing the gap between your bodies and press a soft kiss into Harry’s forehead. You don’t expect him to stir from it, but it seems he was just about to wake up naturally before you disturbed him, so his eyes slowly open and he smiles when his vision focuses on you. You try to school your expression into something relatively normal. Unfortunately, Harry knows you too well and can immediately tell that something’s off. In any other situation, you’d be impressed by how well he can read you. Even with his mind suspended between alertness and sleep, he knows you’re upset and reaches for your hand in concern.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Harry asks, rubbing circles into the back of your hand. He knows the repetitive motion grounds you when you’re anxious, so he continues to graze your skin with his thumb, willing you to relax.

“H—“ you start to say, but you’re cut off by the sound of Harry’s ringtone. He reaches over you to grab his phone from the nightstand, his other hand still clasped with yours. When he falls back into the mattress, you manage to get a glance at his phone screen. It’s displaying an incoming call from Jeff. Fuck.

Harry accepts the call, still ignorant to the situation. His gaze flickers over your face as the line connects—he's clearly still worried about you.

"Hey, H," Jeff says. You can hear him sigh through the phone, "have you been online recently?"

"Been asleep for the past," Harry pauses to check the time, "three hours, so that would be a no."

"Shit," Jeff says, sounding significantly less collected than he usually does. "Okay. Um, do me a favor and stay off of social media for now. I'll call you when it's all been resolved."

"What?" Harry sits up slightly at the sound of Jeff's voice, running a hand through his hair. "I'm confused. Is everything alright?"

"Listen, it's fine. I've got it all under control, just... don't go on Instagram, or Twitter, or anything."

"Jeff," Harry groans, "don't be cryptic. You're obviously dealing with something that's got to do with me, don't you think I have a right to know what's going on?"

There's silence over line for a bit, Jeff clearly ruminating over whether or not to tell Harry the truth. You chew on your lip worriedly, waiting for his voice to come through again.

"There's an article that’s been published online," Jeff starts, "and it's highly critical of you. It's circulating through social media right now, and we're trying to put a stop to it. I've got a meeting with your label's attorneys in a few minutes, but seriously H, for your own good please do not read it. We'll have it taken down by the end of the day."

"Oh," Harry blinks, clearly caught off-guard. You can't blame him for it. People don't normally wake up from naps and find out half the internet has turned against them. "Alright. That's fine. Um, call me if you need anything. Good luck."

"H, I'm serious, don't—" Jeff begins, but Harry hangs up before he can finish his sentence. He's already sat up fully in bed, back leaning against the headboard as he types away furiously on his phone. You don't try to stop him from Googling the article; he deserves to see what's been written. You just sit up next to him and silently run a hand down his arm, tracing where the fabric of his t-shirt ends and the familiar ink on his skin begins. You reach for him and let him know that he has you to lean on.

"You know what they've written isn't true," you whisper, "you know that." It’s all you can say for now.

Harry doesn't respond to that, his eyes too busy scanning through the article. He spends the next seven minutes reading every word silently, taking each criticism and judgement in. When he’s finished, Harry shuts his phone off with a click and sets it down silently on the bedside table. You avert your eyes from him, afraid that if you look up you might be able to see every morsel of hurt on his face.

In the end, Harry’s the first to break the silence.

“Who approved that?” Is what he says, his voice faltering almost imperceptibly at the end. It’s quiet enough that only someone who knows him as well as you do would be able to notice.

“H,” you respond, splaying your hand across his chest and letting his head fall gently onto your shoulder.

“None of that is real. It’s not a reflection of who you are.” You say that with conviction. He’s got the most beautiful soul, does everything with so much heart. He’s so full of love that at times you worry he might burst from it. It’s completely unfair what he’s been reduced to.

“You can only read shitty things about yourself for so long before you start to believe them,” Harry says brokenly, and his composure gives away then. He takes a trembling breath in and you feel a wetness start to form on the sleeve of your shirt. You don’t have to look at him to know he’s crying.

It’s in moments like these where his façade starts to crumble, and you see him transform back into the boy you once knew, before the whole world knew his name. Spending every day terrified that at any given moment, people wouldn’t want to listen to his voice anymore and the rug would be pulled from under his feet. Fearing that he might wake up one day and have to return to Holmes Chapel, even though he’s always been too big for the small town he grew up in.

“Love,” you say, pressing a hand to his cheek. His skin is flushed and you can see the ghost of a tear falling down the side of his face. “How is anyone meant to believe anything they’ve said is valid, when they don’t know you? I know exactly who you are, and the person they’re talking about in that article is not it.”

Harry sniffles at that, pulling himself closer to you. You see him glance at his phone, so you turn it over facedown and revert your full attention back to him.

“You’re so incredibly special,” you continue, carding your hands soothingly through his hair, “you’ve achieved an immense amount of success in the last ten years. You’ve impacted so many people, used your platform to do so much good. There’s always going to be people who want more from you, who criticize and tell you you’re not doing enough. But you are doing enough, H. Seriously. You’re only human, and it’s not your fault that others expect you to be more than that. And even so, I think you make a pretty exceptional human already. You know how many people walk up to me when I’m alone and ask me to tell you that you’ve changed their lives? There’s so many that I’d lost track of the number about seven years ago.”

Harry opens his mouth to say something in response, but you pat his face gently and give him a smile as if to say, I’m not finished yet.

“And beyond that, who cares about the industry, about what faceless people online have to say about you? At the end of the day, you’re enough. I’m not here for the Harry Styles who fills stadiums or commands attention at movie premieres. I’m here for the Harry who accidentally leaves the coffee pot on for too long because he’s too busy trying to get me to dance with him in the kitchen. For the Harry who keeps movie stubs and pebbles deep inside his pockets because he wants to keep a souvenir to remind him of every little thing we’ve done together. The Harry who’s a huge sentimental sap, who’s got the biggest heart in the world.”

You finish with a sigh, gazing at Harry earnestly and hoping that he can feel the gravity of your words.

“You’re right,” Harry smiles softly, clasping a hand around your wrist, voice slightly raspy still. “I shouldn’t let it get to my head. It’s just hard sometimes, you know? I feel like I might be a little too soft for all of it.”

“I love your softness and vulnerability,” you say, “And getting upset when people are dragging your name through the mud is perfectly normal. I can’t even begin to imagine how overwhelming it is for you. But you’ll always have me right here beside you. And trust me, I’d be going to war for you over Twitter right now if I knew Jeff wouldn’t kill me for doing so.”

Harry laughs at that, loud and open in the way that you love. “My Princess Charming,” he says, wrapping his arms around you in a crushing hug. “Forever prepared to defend my honor.”

True to his word, Jeff and Columbia’s legal team get the article taken down in record time. They say Harry’s allowed to post a response to it, if he wants, but he’s never been one to start fights over the internet so he settles on this instead.

A single picture, posted to his Instagram of your hands, your fingers intertwined like the two of you were built to be extensions of each other. The caption is simple. It reads:

I find myself running home to your sweet nothings

Outside, they’re push and shoving; you’re in the kitchen humming

All that you ever wanted from me was sweet nothing.

He turns the comments off, not wanting to entertain any further commentary. It’s a picture meant for just the two of you, a reminder that all the noise coming from the outside means nothing when you have each other. It’s sweet. It’s nothing. And yet somehow, it’s everything you’ll ever need.

———

reblogs & feedback are highly welcomed and appreciated <3

TAGLIST: @crazygirlinthisworld @grapejuice-rry @b-reads-things @s8tellite @michellekstyles @vrittivsanghavi @alienorknight @flwrmuse

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marsbutterfly · 1 year

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The Boy Who Cried Your Name

a/n: HI!!!! I'M BACK AFTER SUCH A LONG HIATUS!!!! I MISSED YOU GUYS! This story was based on this postI hope you all enjoy!

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs: none, just fluff <3

2:07am > manjiro: ok this movie genuinely seems really stupid 2:08am > manjiro: i think i'll watch it and tell you all about it during our date tomorrow. 2:11am > manjiro: oh shit, i've seen this actor somewhere 2:13am > manjiro: i know you're asleep but like 2:13am > manjiro: when you wake up can you help me find out this dude's name? 2:13am > manjiro: *image*

It's a Tuesday night, or at least it was when you first went to sleep. The nonstop vibration of your phone combined with the light that comes from it is enough to disturb your deep slumber.

You grunt, eyes squinting as you try to adjust to the brightness. Your warm hand comes out from its place underneath your pillow, only to be received by a rush of cold air that comes from the AC. Your fingers tremble gently while trying your best to type in your passcode, though your brain isn't fully awake.

Ultimately you decide to simply shine the phone on your face in the hopes that it will recognize your features even in the dark of your room.

Before it can even unlock, another notification.

2:16am > manjiro: i am learning so much from this movie already 2:17am > manjiro: did you fucking know that you can make your own butter if you shake milk for long enough?

You can't help but giggle at the sight, 17+ messages from Mikey. Before the two of you became a real couple, he would hardly ever text first, maybe because he could never remember where he put his phone in the first place or maybe it was because he was actually afraid of getting his feelings hurt, after all, a girl like you was hard to come by.

When the two of you decided to become official, his texts became more and more frequent. Most nights, you were forced to put your phone on Do Not Disturb because you desperately needed a good night's rest and lord knows you wouldn't be able to achieve that goal as long as Mikey was awake.

Your thumbs aren't moving at the speed you would like them to, your vision is still partially blurry and your throat is so dry that it feels like you are swallowing nails. Nevertheless, you open the messages to encounter a great variety of content.

Tired eyes skim through the various paragraphs, some quite lengthy as he declares his endless love for you and everything you have done / do for him on a daily basis, describing how you are the most beautiful person you have ever met and how the light that radiates from you reminds him of a sunset lit inside of your chest. How the color of your hair is his favorite because, whenever he sees it anywhere else, he feels like the universe is sending him a small reminder of how lucky he is. You smile at the sight of his gentle words.

However, you can no longer ignore the rain of incoming texts now that he has noticed the "seen at 2:14am" at the bottom of the page. He feels awful for waking you up but he cannot help himself. Every new thing he learns, every new detail of the movie he thinks you will enjoy knowing, he must share with you.

2:15am > manjiro: THIS DUDE JUST ATE HIS MOTHER-IN-LAW WHOLE? 2:16am > manjiro: IS THAT A FUCKING THING THAT SNAKES DO? EAT PEOPLE WHOLE? 2:16am > manjiro: I HAVE TO GOOGLE THIS HOLD ON 2:17am > manjiro: I have learned that, in fact, they can. I'm actually going to jump, I cannot do this 2:18am > manjiro: oh shit, i didn't mean to wake you up, but now that you are here! 2:19am > manjiro: did you know that drinking too much water can kill you? I read it somewhere, let me find the link. 2:19am > manjiro: Oh and also that when the dinosaurs walked the Earth, days were 23 hours long instead of 24?

You take a deep breath, knowing that he is coming from a place of love and care but you can't help but be a bit annoyed. Not wanting to snap at him, you use your full mental capacity at the moment to type a response to one of his many, many texts.

2:19am > manjiro: typing... 2:19am > you: Mikey, I love you, so so much and I wish for nothing more than for you to be here cuddling with me, than to feel the warmth of your body against mine, but you know I have an exam early in the morning. 2:20am > you: but baby, I am begging you, STOP THIS MADNESS.

His texting ceases and it feels like an eternity, certainly long enough for you to regret the way you spoke to him, even if it wasn't malicious or even purposefully mean. You understand that, other than Draken, Mikey doesn't usually confide in anyone else, especially not in a way that makes him seem weak or "stupid."

A sigh escapes your lips and you blink intensely for a few seconds in the hopes of stopping your eyeballs from burning. Time seems to slip by you and the next time your eyes open, twenty minutes have passed.

You bolt awake for a few seconds, heart beating faster than a race car, an irrational fear that you might have missed a message from him taking over you so the natural course of action is to check your texts. It would be a lie to say you weren't a little disappointed that there were no new messages from Mikey in that short period of time and your heart sinks just slightly.

2:41am > you: Mikey, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to upset you, I'm just nervous about my exam and super tired. I shouldn't have taken it out on you. I hope you can forgive me.

Not even thirty seconds go by before the three dots inside of the blue bubble appear at the edge of the page. The full sensation of relief doesn't wash over you until you hear back from him, a simple message, spelled completely wrong because you knew he was keeping an eye out on whatever he was watching on the television.

2:42am > mikey: all gpod bsby, u luv u. (all good baby, i love you)

With a smile on your face, you finally allow yourself to relax and place the phone down underneath your pillow, giving Mikey time for himself as he enjoys his tv time. Now, you are finally going to be able to have a good night's rest before your big exam tomorrow. Eyelids become heavy and your breathing finds its own perfect pattern, your pillow is cold and underneath your covers is warm, everything is simply falling into place.

When you are within seconds of falling asleep, your phone buzzes from beneath your head. You refuse to open your eyes and simply roll over, pushing your body away from the device.

Some time passes and you find yourself in the same peaceful vibe as before, a gentle smile on your face as you fully allow yourself to be submerged in the cold feeling of the ac against your face while the rest of your body is nicely tucked away. The feeling doesn't last long for Mikey, once again, decides to start texting you every few minutes, if not seconds.

You grunt loudly, reaching for the edge of your pillow to pull it over your ear. In moments like these, you truly had to remind yourself of how much you loved him and why because he does, in fact, test what little sanity you have left in you. But you didn't know that all he was doing in that moment was being his usual self: the guy who is deeply and madly in love with you.

3:14am > manjiro: oh yeah 3:14am > manjiro: i forgot to tell you 3:15am > manjiro: good luck on your exam tomorrow, you got this! 3:15am > manjiro: i love you so much <3 3:15am > manjiro: have a great night <3

#mikey brainrot #mikey x reader #mikey x you #manjiro sano x you #manjiro sano x y/n #manjiro sano x reader #manjiro sano #manjiro sano fluff #tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers x you #tokyo revengers x y/n #tokyo revengers smut #tokyo rev x reader #tokyo rev x you #tokyo rev x y/n

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lionasvault · 2 months

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puppy and lamb love to quilt.

∘•···············•∘ʚ ♡ ɞ∘•················•∘

pup learned the skill all by herself !! maybe she followed a couple of those awful youtube tutorials from 2016 that caused her to break a few of her sewing machine needles. but, she got the hang of it after a couple weeks.

she has this sad old sewing machine from her grandma that she has propped up on this low folding table in the corner of her bedroom, and a short bar stool that she can easily push under it for more storage space.

she usually makes her quilts out of jonbee's old clothes, especially the ones that get ripped and torn. she hates wasting clothes, particularly ones that still have the faint smell of him, so she incorporates them into her pieces of scrap fabric.

she never plans out her quilts. she doesn't care how bad they look in the end -- the jumbled patterns and colors, different textured fabric -- because at least the quilt works, right? besides, jonbee loves them no matter what.

. ⊹ ₊ ݁.⊹ . ݁

"look!" she giggles, softly waving the heavy quilt in front of john b's face. "i finished the quilt!" this is her first ever quilt -- and you can definitely tell; the uneven stitching, gaps in places, and the filling almost spilling out -- but even with all of that, she's so proud of herself.

"wow pup, that's very nice," he says, his hands resting on his hips as he appreciates the work she's put into this quilt of his old jeans, ugly dad shirts, and boxers.

he gives a small dad nod of approval, patting pup on her head before giving her a soft forehead kiss.

the following nights, he gets the best sleep of his life laying next to pup under the quilt. no night terrors, nightmares, or stirring.

∘•···············•∘ʚ ♡ ɞ∘•················•∘

on the completely opposite side - lamb. she was taught from when she was younger how to quilt by her mom. growing up religious, those traditional gender roles were burned into her by family.

she hangs out with pope quietly when she works, maybe he reads while she gets into the zone. they never talk, only the sounds of the sewing machine and her soft sighs when she messes up a stitch.

she's so high strung that even this relaxing hobby gets torn into it. her designs are thought out for weeks. intricate stitching designs, pretty fabrics, and soft undersides. it has to be perfect - otherwise she can't stand to use it.

. ⊹ ₊ ݁.⊹ . ݁

lamb and pope sit quietly in her room, the slight sun peeking through the windows. pope is reading some nerdy book, his nose slightly scrunched as he tries to read the long paragraphs.

lamb has her back hunched and eyebrows furrowed as she focuses on sewing, working on a new quilt. she's shakey today, messing up every two seconds. eventually, frustration takes over. she starts crying silently, her stomach aching and her face growing warm.

pope looks up from his book when he doesn't hear the sewing machine for a good minute, seeing lamb crying with her hair all messy. he holds her in his arms as she cries.

"oh, honey- you need it to be perfect for me? no- no, sweetie, i don't care if it's perfect. I'll love whatever you make, hear me? yes? okay, good. now, let's calm down, okay?"

∘•···············•∘ʚ ♡ ɞ∘•················•∘

based on my and @starfxkr's discussion! credit to her for some of these ideas

#puppy!reader #lamb!reader #john b prompt #pope heyward prompt

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undreaming-fanfiction · 1 year

Text

A companion piece to my previous Shinedown Steddie thingy.

Eddie's last year was...

Yeah, it just was. It existed. That's the best he can say about it.

Sure, there was a ton of touring, awards, interviews and he really tried to keep it together, he really did. But ignoring that he and Steve were no longer together was about as easy as ignoring he was missing an arm or a leg. Sometimes he wishes he actually lost a body part instead of Steve's love.

But that wasn't exactly true, was it? Because Steve told him he still loved him when he left. And hell, if he didn't feel the same. Still does.

Eddie keeps dodging questions about Steve in interviews. Asks for privacy, for space, but never refuses to answer the simplest question - does he still love Steve? "At this point, I'm pretty sure loving Steve is a part of my DNA," he smiles at the interviewer. "I can't even imagine not loving him, not caring for him. So yes, um...the answer to your question is still yes. It will always be yes."

It took him a while to actually get back to working. The first weeks were something Eddie had never felt before, and he's felt a lot of pain in his life. This? This was almost worse, because instead of something sharp and burning he could focus on, there was just ever-stretching emptiness, with no promise of ending, not now, not ever.

When Gareth basically forced himself through the door of his (and Steve's former) home, he found Eddie curled up in a ball on the bed, smelling like unwashed laundry, dirt and misery. He hadn't showered in about a week or so, only sometimes got up to drink, Steve's voice still ringing in his head - "please don't blame yourself, Eddie. And take care of yourself, okay? I still care about you and I need to know you're going to eat something healthy, drink enough water and sleep. Please, don't take this out on yourself." So that's what Eddie did - once in a while he got up, got a glass of water, nibbled on a cereal bar if he felt like it and tossed the rest in the trash. Then he curled up back in bed, surrounded by the books he loved, used to love, but now couldn't read a single paragraph. He cried the lot the first day, the second too, then less. After a while, he wasn't even sobbing anymore, his tears just did whatever they wanted and the most he was willing to do was flip the pillow so he didn't constantly lie on a wet fabric.

Gareth saved him. It sounds dramatic now, but he really did. He forced Eddie out of bed, opened the curtains and the windows to let fresh air in and sent him to the shower while he ordered pizza. Not the most gourmet and nutritious dish and Eddie kept chewing on his two slices until they grew cold and soggy, but at least he got something warm in his stomach. And as Gareth sat next to him and patiently waited for Eddie to take another bite, come on, just one, he felt a pang of guilt - this was his friend, not just his bandmate. And if Eddie didn't start doing something, he could hurt someone else he loved, their careers, livelihoods.

He promised Gareth to stop by the next day despite Gareth's insistence that he could take as much time as he needed. But Eddie doesn't want to. Steve was already gone so he just had one thing to live for. Well, and Wayne and the kids. But abandoning his work felt like the whole breakup was meaningless and he knew Steve didn't want him to give up on his dream. So he dove back into work and didn't resurface until months later.

The words didn't come at first, but Eddie willed them to, waited for hours over an empty notebook until they seeped through his barriers, bleeding onto the paper. His previous songs were about anger, rebellion, joy of being different. The new ones? They spoke about regret, lost tenderness and love transcending time. He was worried to present them to the band, but they give it a shot and surprisingly, their manager sees the potential. So they go along with it.

During one of their tours, Eddie read the news and his heart did that thing where it squeezed so tight he thought he'd faint. There was a mass accident near the area Steve lived now - Dustin kept updating him, always so convinced they'd find their way back together - and Eddie wondered what if Steve got caught up in it, what if he's one of the victims, what if he'll never get to make things right-

He knew he shouldn't, but he grasped his cellphone in shaky hands and quickly typed.

So sorry, I know I probably don't want me contacting you but I read the news and I got worried. Are you OK?

Just a simple OK is enough

please

just let me know you're fine Stevie

Minutes and hours stretched insufferably and Eddie was already going through the worst case scenarios, but then his phone beeped. He nearly dropped it, but when he read the message, he choked out a relieved sob.

I'm okay

Thank you for checking in, Eddie. Sorry for making you worry

I was helping at the scene, just got home now

Are you okay too?

After that, they kept in touch. Just brief messages, ensuring each other was fine, that Eddie safely landed wherever the tour took him and that Steve wasn't too stressed out from his job and studies, didn't get too much in his head. Small, supportive messages, careful but loving.

And so they're here, almost a year later.

The hole in Eddie's chest is still massive, still bleeding, but he thinks that having Steve in his in any capacity is better than not having him at all. And he'll take anything he can get.

He pours his adoration into his songs, never sending them to Steve, not wanting to pressure him or make him feel guilty, but all the love he still has for him needs an outlet. "The Crow and the Butterfly" just came out and it does fairly well. It makes Eddie feel a bit weird, to expose his feelings so openly, but he will never be ashamed for loving someone. Especially someone as amazing as Steve.

It's late evening and he's home now, even if it still feels half-empty. Working is the only thing that makes sense now and so he's spending his free time perfecting one of the last songs that feels like a small personal breakthrough for him, he feels like he's getting somewhere, maybe closer to acceptance, understanding.

He strums on his acoustic guitar and sings.

Wrap me in a bolt of lightning

Send me on my way still smiling

Maybe that's the way I should go

Straight into the mouth of the unknown

I left the spare key on the table

Never really thought I'd be able

To say that I'll visit on the weekend

I lost my whole life and a dear friend

I've said it so many times

I would change my ways no never mind

God knows I tried!

Call me a sinner, call me a saint

Tell me it's over, I'll still love you the same

Call me your favorite

Call me the worst

Tell me it's over I don't want you to hurt

It's all that I can say

So I'll be on my way

I finally put it all together, nothing really lasts forever

I had to make a choice that was not mine

I had to say goodbye for the last time

I put my life in a suitcase

Never really stayed in one place

Maybe that's the way it should be

You know I've lived my life like a gypsy

I've said it so many times

I would change my ways, no never mind

God knows I tried

Call me a sinner, call me a saint

Tell me it's over, I'll still love you the same

Call me your favorite

Call me the worst

Tell me it's over I don't want you to hurt

It's all that I can say

So I'll be on my way

I'll always keep you inside

You healed my heart and my life

And you know I've tried

Call me a sinner, call me a saint

Tell me it's over, I'll still love you the same

Call me your favorite

Call me the worst

Tell me it's over I don't want you to hurt

It's all that I can say

So I'll be on my way

The tones finish but he's still staring into space, wondering if this is really it, all his life will be.

And then his phone beeps.

Eddie doesn't really want to answer anything or anyone, but he knows Steve had an important exam a few days back so maybe he has the results. And he won't make him wait ever again.

He sees the text and blinks, frozen in place.

What if I told you that you aren't too late, crow?

He can't believe it. But it's Steve's number, it's him, and Eddie is laughing like a madman now, tears streaming freely from his eyes. It isn't a victory, still pretty far from it, but it's like a first stitch for his wound, a promise of healing.

He grabs his phone and quickly types back.

I'd tell you that I'd chase you forever, butterfly, I'd wait as long as you needed. Do you need me to wait longer?

In seconds after answering, his phone makes a sound again, but it's not a message this time, it's a call.

Eddie has never answered a call this quickly in his life.

"Hi," he chokes out and holds the small lifeline to his ear with both hands, as something incredibly fragile and precious.

"No more waiting, Eddie," says Steve and maybe he's crying a little too, from the soft shift in his voice that only Eddie knows from evenings spent together, romantic tragedies and broken friendships on screen giving Steve the same vulnerable tone. "You've finally caught me and I'm...I think I'm ready to be caught, too. If you still want me."

The "yes" that Eddie gives is the first of the two most important ones in his life.

Even if he doesn't know it yet, he will give the same answer two years from now, to kneeling Steve. But that's another story and another song.

#steddie #steddie ficlet #steddie drabble #eddie munson #steve harrington #steddie songfic #steddie song rec #stranger things #stranger things fanfic #Spotify

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puckleberryfinnie · 5 months

Text

covey!reader in the quarter quell (introduction)

ok so because of the amount of likes I got on the post where I shared my idea for a fanfic (thank you so much to each and every one of you), I decided to write my first ever fanfic based on it!! this is just a little introduction to your character and the story that goes with it- I promise I have more in store if you guys want it, like reader meeting everyone. I’m sorry that this isn’t very good, I’ll hopefully improve with more practice <3

summary: an introduction to covey!reader’s story and your time in the 73rd Hunger Games and her reaping into the Quarter Quell

(based on my idea from this post: click me!)

warnings: fem!reader, killing, drowning, basically just me yapping for a bunch of paragraphs!! also this is pretty short lol

Nothing could’ve prepared you for getting your name called as the female tribute of District 11.

You only had minor guidance through the stories that had been told in your district. Passed from parent to kid, and so on, what the capital had tried so hard to erase was still present among the people of the lower districts. The Covey knew more than anyone. Your grandparent had been part of the group when Lucy Gray disappeared, you knew that much. They travelled, escaping the wrath and second-hand anger of Snow after he came into power.

They landed in District 11, growing small farms with even smaller houses. The Covey wasn't what it used to be, more quiet, adapting to a life of agriculture, still humming their ways through their work. You’d do anything for them, though. They were your family. So when your name was called, you knew you’d do what you could to survive for them. They needed you- and you needed them.

The whole experience was a blur. Getting paraded around was one thing. And you were used to the attention, being a performer and all. You sang. You sang every chance you could get- that was your leading attribute and you were going to spend your last days alive doing what you loved most. Caesar just ate it up, too. Your interview infront of the capital was no interview, but a last concert from you to the crowd, a sending-off to your death.

But this wasn’t your last performance. Your voice had more songs to sing, more stories to unfold. You miraculously made it out alive- thankfully without a single kill under your belt from the experience. You hid, others killed. And when it was down to the final two, you survived the final event: a storm in the arena strong enough to wash away any sign of living within it. The other tribute (a boy from district two) was not so lucky, drowning in a moment of panic.

The non-killer image made you very popular in the capital after you stepped out of the arena. Your victory tour was filled with victory songs at each stop, spreading a message of positivity for the districts. Everyone seemed to be appeased by your performance- even Snow.

You didn’t watch the games the next year. Any mention of the games left an uncomfortable taste in your mouth and feeling you couldn’t seem to shake. This feeling only grew with the announcement of the Quarter Quell. You’d only just left the games, and now you would be led back into them?

Even with the other female winners in your district, you still felt uneasy about it. Not a single one of you should have to go through this again. You said your second goodbyes, this time with less hope of return. Everyone in the Covey cried (even the older boys who tried so hard to act tough).

The walk to the selection stage was silent- no one dared to say a word.

A piece of paper was plucked from the container

“And the female tribute from District 11 for the 75th Hunger Games is…”

It was slowly unfolded

“Y/N L/N.”

uh oh!! that’s not good!! I wonder what happens next!! seriously though thank you so much for reading through all of this, I know it’s kind of just me yapping the whole time- feel free to let me know what you think in the comments! if anyone wants a part two, let me know (I’ll also create a tag list if people want it <33)

Im planning on doing everything leading up to everyone actually entering the arena for the next part (like the training, the ability tests, the interviews), so let me know what you guys want to see!!

I’m also not really sure if I want to have the reader shipped with- I’m leading towards johanna but I’m open to suggestions <33

love ya!!

#tbosas #the hunger games #quarter quell #finnick x reader #finnick odair #johanna mason x reader #johanna mason #the covey #katniss everdeen #peeta mellark #lucy gray baird #guys I hate the way I write it’s so bad #I hope yall at least kinda like it tho #love you guys

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adorkablecringeworks · 11 months

Text

That Color Looks Good on You

~The Kissing Prank~

| First | Next | Previous |

This is my first ever fic!!! For many years I’ve attempted writing. Most never made it past the notes and plot outlines while a few never made it past the first paragraph. My main medium for my creativity has always been drawing so this is a HUGE deal for me!!! Especially since any of possible skill for creative writing I had apparently died back in high school. Thank you and I hope you enjoy!❤️

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

Pairing: rottmnt x gn!reader

Warnings: Mild swearing

Summery: You show off your new lipstick to your favorite dork, Leo. After a series of events, you and Leo come up with a plot for a perfect prank. You’ll ambush every one of his siblings and smother them in kisses with your new lipstick all the while Leo films the whole thing. Let the Shenanigans Commence!

Author’s Note: I originally came up with this as a Leo x Reader. But the way the story progressed, it can be read as any rottmnt x reader as well as either romantic, platonic, or familial. The same can be said for the gender. I was putting on my own lipstick when I thought up this scenario and I thought ANYONE CAN WEAR LIPSTICK!!! So gender neutral it is! Writing in the 2nd person made it easy too.

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

Part 1: -The Beginning- Neon Leon

You are excited about your new lipstick.

Berry pink.

Not too light. A deep shade without it being too dark.

Putting on the final touches, you admire yourself in your bathroom mirror. It made you feel strong, confident, Dazzling!

“Whadda ya think?”

You strike a pose in your bedroom doorframe, framing your face with your hands. You have returned from your shopping trip and eager to show off your spontaneous purchase. Your favorite mutant turtle ninja lounges on your bed with his snout deep in the newest issue of Jupiter Jim: New Universe H2G2. Not only is he claiming your space as his own… he’s out right ignoring you.

Leonardo Hamato. Your other half, partner in crime, bestie, your first mate. Although Leo would beg a differ on that last part, claiming that since he’s the only one with pirate experience that you would be HIS first mate.

Eeeehhh… Tomato Tomahto.

The point being that you and your Neon Leon give April and Donnie the run for their money for the ‘Besties Awards’.

You deadpan at him. At this point in time, you’re thinking about accepting new applications for the Bestie role.

Meanwhile, that said comic (that is apparently Soooo much more interesting than you) was the purpose of your errand. A favor for him for it was sold out online and the one comic shop that still had it in stock was for pick up only. Donnie had gotten caught up in his newest project, something about a portal device to alternate realities, alternate selves, (other Mad Sciencey stuff) and Apparently forgot to preorder the damn thing. That particular shop just happens to be down the block from your apartment as well as you are the ‘bestest-most-awesome-supreme-person-ever-and-he-loves-you-sosososo-much’.

So much for being the ‘bestest most awesome supreme-’ so on and so forth.

With a huff, you pick up a hoodie you left on the floor, balled it up, and chucked right into Leo’s head. With a ‘THWUMPH’ and ‘hurmf ’, you pounce on him, snatching his comic from his grasp (carefully for you just bought the damn thing), setting it to the side during which you grab your pillow and whack his still covered head.

“I was joking!” He cries out as you laugh maniacally. “I heard you I heard you!”

Fully satisfied with his punishment, you stand up and plop to the side all the while you let him get his bearings. Leo finally frees himself from your shirt and throws it back on to the floor simultaneously sticking his tongue out at you.

Such a drama queen.

You roll your eyes and return the gesture whilst you adjust yourself to sit facing your Leo with him doing the same, finally takes in your lips.

“I like it.” He nods approvingly, “Muy Bien!”

You grin so big your checks begin to ache. But then you notice your turtle going quiet, grabbing his chin as he goes deep in thought.

“You’ll hurt yourself if you keeps that up.”

You know to well how clever he is but that doesn’t mean you won’t give him a ration of shit. It’s in your job description.

It’s Leo’s turn to roll his eyes.

“I was just thinking on about how it would look on me.”

You lean back on your hands and squint at his face for a moment. You then pull out your lipstick form your pocket to hold the color bottom sticker up to him.

“Hmmm I don’t know… I think something more of a red shade would be better for you. You know, to match your moons.”

You love those moons.

“Are you kidding?!” The Bratticus Maximus snatches it out of your hand, “I can totally pull this off!”

You gasp and quickly reach for it back, but Leonardo (being a stupid fucking turtle ninja) easily keeps it out of your reach. Keeping you at bay by smooshing his hand against you cheek.

Where’s the respect?

Then a wicked idea creeps into your mind. You drop your arms and let them hang for a moment causing Leo to pause. You switch your effort. Grabbing his wrist, subsequently tearing it off your face. You then yank him towards you, pulling his face close to yours.

“Well then let’s try it out shall we?”

You lean in, planting a firm kiss to his cheek with an exaggerated ‘MWAH’ .

You take in his face for a moment as he gapes at you.

“Hmm I can’t tell, I need a larger sample size.”

A mischievous grin spreads across your face and in turn Leo balks. He’s on to you. You both are on the same wave length. Even though it isn’t possible, everyone swears you two can Mind Meld together. He goes to shove you with his free hand but you catch that wrist as well, leaving him open.

You attack.

Smooching all over his face, leaving kiss marks in your wake. He cries out as you leave no spot uncovered.

You fall back and admire you work while your dear slider sits there stunned

“I guess I was wrong,” you release him, “That color does look good on you.”

Leo bolts up and dashes to your bathroom to assess the extent of the damage during which you almost fall to the floor cackling.

You await his return, biting your lip, trying to stifle your giggles. However, you fail when he appears back in your doorway.

There Leo’s tries to put on his best sulk (adorable really), crossing his arms as you devolve to wheezing. But who’s he kidding. You got him good. Plus watching you turn blue in the face and on the verge of passing out is pretty hilarious in on it self.

He returns to your bathroom and you're able to gather yourself enough to follow. He give you his signature smirk once he sees you in the mirror where upon poses with his finger and thumb in the L position to under his chin.

“I told you a could pull it off .” His smugness oozing off of him as he looks over himself again. You swear you saw sparkles.

You’re finally able to get yourself under control and you meet his gaze in the mirror as you come up from behind him.

“Yeah ya did stud muffin.” You shoot him a wink. “That’s a good look on you.”

A furious blush blooms across your favorite blue boy’s face to which he responds by bumping his hips against yours as you pull up next to him. In turn, you bump back, pushing him over to make room for you in the mirror.

Chuckles are shared and you lean towards the mirror to reapply your lipstick.

There’s a moment of comfortable silence as you focus on the task at hand while Leo watches you. You and him share glances between each other through the mirror when a plot begins to form. Your shared glances become knowing ones. Insouciantly, you turn to face each other, Leo crossing his arms as you lean against the counter.

Your wicked grin returns to which the leader in blue bares one to match.

Once again, evidence that supports the conspiracy that both you can Mind Meld.

“Sooo…?”

“Sooooo…?

“We should show my brothers how good I look.”

“They’ll be sooooo jelly. We should totally include them so they don’t feel left out.”

Nonchalance is evident in your voices as you converse.

Leo reaches into his pouch to pull out his phone, his brows bounce up and down as he holds it up between you two. Your brows return the gesture in agreement. So, with your lipstick and his phone in hand, you both set off. At your front door, the true blue slider casually opens it and stands off to the side, bowing while holding his hand out. You play along, responding in a curtsy before placing your hand into his. The two of you are barely able to contain excitements check as you both leave your apartment.

You and Leo soon arrive at the lair, ready to set you plan into motion.

| First | Next | Previous |

Please remember to reblog every post you enjoy for that is how exposure on Tumblr works. It’s how Artists and Writers here survive. Thank you! X3c

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randomname3 · 8 months

Text

Okay SO

Saiki k dnd headcannons GO

Kaidou obviously is the one to try to get the group into it, and tried to run a session for them, tho secretly he is scared he gets stuck as the forever dm and wants to play a pc.

Saiki agrees to join eventually, he read about the game in a book once and thought it might be interesting. He rolls a human fighter and barely makes it through one session before he walks up to kaidou amd offers to dm in his place. And saiki realises very quickly that dnd is what he was missing; he cant get spoilers to a story no one knows how it would end, not even the writers. while he can read minds he cant always predict what his players will do(especially with nendo there). The game is almost like a low stakes competition against himself, both challenging his ability to think on his toes and to prepare for the unknown. The time it takes to prepare for a session gives him easy excuse he can use once a week to avoid hanging out with the group that they respect, but i feel like saiki isnt an over prep-er(might be projecting on that one) he is the type of dm to write a few paragraphs, have some loot ready and a map or two and trust his instincts to guide him through the session. After he kicks kaidou out kaidou rolls a dark elf sorcerer and they start their main campaign.

Nendo thinks its stupid and doesn't 100% gets what is rollplaying.but i feel like the moment the dm sets the scene nendo gets really into it tho he justs desribes what he would do, so he doesn't rly have a charachter. I feel like he has instinctual grasp of the rules and always tells the others what they need to roll, much to kaidous frustration.

Chiyo hears them talking about them and asks if she can join in, plays an elf druid and tries to romance all of kaidous charachter

Teruhashi will spend a few nights conducting research and finding the perfect balance between being a roleplayer and a munchkin (the perfect player). The game is very stressfull for the first few sessions but with time as she gets comfortable with her charachter the game is almost theraputic for her, a chance to be someone else and not the perfect girl, she ugly cried in the end of their first campaign.she never rolled natural one and handles most of the partys social interactions, occasionally saiki will use his powers to get her to roll low to keep things interesting.

#saiki k #the disastrous life of saiki k #kaidou shun #but it would be so cool #teruhashi kokomi #tdlosk #nendou riki #chiyo yumehara #oh god i want to write this fanfic #i probably wont #i did

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mostlymarvelsstuff · 1 year

Text

To Call You Mine

Chapter 10

Warnings: angst

!! read the last paragraph carefully !!

Word count: 5209 Nat Masterlist Marvel Masterlist TCYM Masterlist

It's been about a month since the New Year's gathering with your friends, and every move Natasha has made since then has been utterly adorable. First she made sure to schedule all the appropriate appointments with the correct doctors, even though she’s only had to go to one so far. And then she began to look up all the items she wanted for the pups nursery, and lastly she's been nesting. Which is currently what you find her doing. She shifts around in her nest, fluffing pillows the way she wants them and rearranging some blankets.

“Alpha?” she calls out, turning to look at you where you stand

“Yes my Omega?”

“Can you please come cuddle? I need my nest to smell like you to get comfortable.”

A soft smile spreads across your features, “Of course Natty”

You gently join her in the nest, sitting down beside her. A purr rumbles in her chest as she snuggles into you, practically crawling into your lap and your strong arms wrap around her. She nearly melts in your hold as you begin to scent her and the nest, a sense of peace and love washing over her. Unbeknownst to her, her purr becomes louder and you chuckle at her cuteness.

“Is my Omega happy?”

She nods, “Very happy. This is what I’ve always wanted.”

“Me too” you admit, kissing her cheek, “I’m so excited to have this life with you, Dima and our pup”

“Don’t forget Liho” she teases, and the cat meows from her spot on the nearby windowsill

You both laugh, “Oh yes, and Liho. I could never forget our kitty”

The two of you fall into a comfortable silence for several minutes, just content to be soaking in each other's presence and scents. But after a while your Omega shifts in you arms, letting one of her hands rest against her small bump

“Do you want a boy or a girl?” she asks, looking up at you with curious eyes

You ponder it for a moment, “I think a girl would be nice, but I’m not picky Natty. As long as they’re safe and healthy I’ll be happy. What about you?”

“I want a daughter” she confesses with a smile, “I love Dima so very much, but growing up I always dreamed about having a little girl.”

You move your hands to cup her small bump and she leans even further into your touch, “Then I hope it's a girl, because I want my Omega to get everything she wants. She deserves it.”

It doesn’t take long for your mate to fall asleep in your embrace, and you make no attempts to move from her nest. Instead you simply pull the blankets up snuggly around you both and make sure Dimas baby monitor is nearby. Though it's rare for the pup not to sleep through the night, you’d rather be safe than sorry.

When Natasha awakes the next morning she's greeted by the sight of you asleep beside her and she's absolutely thrilled that her nest and blankets smell like you. She knows the whole house is yours and therefore hers, but there's just something in an Omegas instincts that make them cling to their nests when with pup, and to have hers smelling like her mate, her safe space personified, it really soothes her.

She takes a moment to look over your peaceful features and she begins to purr, happy that her Alpha is so content beside her. Unfortunately she can't watch you slumber long as the cooing on the other end of the monitor informs her that her pup is awake and she knows it's best to feed and tend to him before he actually cries out for her.

She slips away from you as stealthily as possible and makes her way upstairs. She makes quick work of changing Dimas diaper before settling into the rocking chair with him. She lifts up her shirt and in no time he begins to suckle.

"You know my sweet boy, you're going to have to learn to share." She tells him, running her fingers through his messy hair, "You're going to have a sibling in a few months. Someone for you to play with"

His bright eyes look up to her and she wonders if he understands what all that means, or if it's something he'll have to see to take in. She remembers she took the news of Yelena's pending arrival quite well, but she was also older than Dima currently is when that news came. She really hopes he'll be just as close with the new pup as she is with her sister, sibling bonds in a pack are something special.

Just then her phone goes off and thinking it could be you letting her know you were awake and making breakfast she eagerly picks it up. But instead of her Alphas name she finds her best friend's name across the screen.

Wanda: Good morning Nat. I was wondering, do you have plans for today?

Nat: Nope, I'm free. What's up?

Wanda: Care to go shopping with me? You've had a pup already and I would really like your advice on things to get for mine. I'm much more nervous about all of this than I expected to be.

Nat: Aww, of course I'll come Wans! And there's no need to be nervous, you're going to be a great mom, I know it.

Wanda: ❤️ thank you dorogoy(sweetheart). Pick you up in an hour?

Nat: sounds perfect. See you soon

She slips her phone back in her pocket before she stands and makes her way downstairs, her pup still attached to her breast. She quietly re-enters the bedroom and sits beside you in the nest, letting the hand that's not supporting Dima caress your face.

"Y/n, baby" she calls out, smiling as your brows twitch, "Alpha, time to get up"

You yawn before opening your eyes and though you're still groggy a smile spreads across your lips as you see your Omega and pup in front of you.

"Mornin' Natty"

"Good morning baby, sleep well?" She asks, her hand still caressing your cheek

You nod, "Very well. Did you?"

"Mhm, I certainly did"

"Good" you declare, moving your one hand to hold hers while your other grabs Dimas, "Mornin' sweetheart"

Despite enjoying his breakfast he still manages to coo at you and squeezes your fingers affectionately and Natashas mind wanders to images of you and the unborn pup interacting in such ways as well, making her heart swell.

"Wanda wants me to help her while she shops for her pup, she's picking me up in an hour if that's ok."

"Of course it's ok." You tell her, squeezing her hand, "Just be careful. It's dangerous enough for Omegas out there, let alone pregnant ones."

"We will be, because there's no way Vis is letting her go alone. She may be driving but she's not alone"

You nod, "Ok good. I'll keep Dima here so you can be out as long as you need to be with them."

"You sure you won't mind?" She asks, still not entirely used to having such a caring and considerate mate

"I'll be fine. Tony says I probably won’t be needed until April, so all I have to do is check over my guys schedule, make sure they show and handle a small bit of paperwork. I can easily keep an eye on him with the monitor until I'm done and then me, him and Liho can have some fun."

She smiles and leans in for a quick kiss, "Thank you Alpha. I appreciate you so much, my love"

"Aww Natty, it's really no problem."

"I know, I'm just so thankful I have you" she replies just as Dima finally detaches from her, "Would you mind taking him so I can get ready?"

"Of course not" you reply, sitting up and taking the pup from her, "Come on buddy, let's go get you the rest of your breakfast"

By the time you're finished feeding him his oatmeal and fruit your Omega has finished getting ready and she joins the two of you in the kitchen with a kiss to each of your cheeks.

"Here detka(baby), I know you don't have a lot of time before Wanda shows up, but you need to eat. For both of you."

Her heart warms as you hand her a freshly made omelet, with all of her favorite ingredients and she happily grabs the plate from you.

"Thank you baby” she says, giving you another kiss on the cheek before sitting down at the table next to Dima in his highchair, “Were you a good boy for your Mama?”

He coos at her with a smile and you chuckle, “He was. Ate every bit of his food”

“Good” she says with a smile, pinching his cheek lightly as she scoops the last forkful of breakfast into her mouth, “Please continue to be good malen'kiy (little one)”

“Don’t worry, he will be. Now go on, I think Wanda just pulled up”

She quickly hops up and gives you a kiss, “I love you Alpha, see you later”

“Love you too Omega, be careful and have fun!”

Natasha had indeed had a fun time with the Maximoffs, however the smile that had been plastered on her face for the past several hours fell as soon as she entered the front door and walked into the living room. The smell of your blood is heavy in the air and Dimas cries from upstairs are louder than she's ever heard them. Combined it causes a primal fear to course through her.

“Alpha?!” she calls out, dropping her shopping bags and purse before running further into the house, but she nearly freezes in her tracks once she sees you. Your crumpled form lies at the base of the stairs, fresh bruises litter your face and you lie motionless in a small pool of your own blood, “Y/n!!”

She rushes to you, gently turning you on your side to get a better look at your injuries, and it’s then she comes to realize this wasn’t just some accident. This wasn’t you tripping and falling down the stairs, no someone had done this to you. If the scratch marks across your neck and the bruises on your knuckles weren’t indication enough, then the scent of blood from a few unknown Betas certainly was..

“Y/n baby, who did this?” she asks, cradling your head in her hands, “Who hurt you?”

She receives no reply from you, nor any indication that you'd even heard her and her heart plummets, “Please my Alpha, wake up. Y-you have to be ok.”

Her hand wipes at the trail of blood trickling down your forehead, desperate to find the source so she can apply pressure to the wound, but just as she does so the house goes alarmingly quiet. Dimas' crying stopped.

Panic and dread fill her as she quickly stands, but before she can even make it up two of the steps an all too familiar silhouette stands at the top, her pup in his arms, “Hello Nat”

“Bruce? No, y-you can’t be here” He smirks at her as descends the stairs and she instinctively moves backwards away from him and therefore away from you as well, “You- you're not allowed to be here”

“But I am here. And I’m not leaving until I get what's mine” he growls out, stepping over your still unconscious form. Her fear filled eyes dart down to you and his smirk turns into a wicked smile, “Did you really think she could cut it as your Alpha? She's pathetic and weak, just like you. She couldn’t even fight off my guys to keep me from getting to my son. If I had been someone dangerous, Dima could be in trouble right now”

“You are someone dangerous” she replies without thinking, causing his harsh glare to fall upon her

“I’m not dangerous to my son, Natasha! And I wouldn’t be dangerous to you if you would just fucking listen to me and accept that you're mine! But no, instead you have to fight me at every damn turn! You refuse to submit to me, you refuse to claim me in return, you refuse to respect me! And then, you practically spit in my face by whoring yourself out to the nearest Alpha while keeping my son away from me!” he shouts, causing her to flinch away from him, and her arms instinctively come up to protectively cradle her stomach.

Realization hits him and he approaches her, quickly grabbing her harshly by the jaw with a growl. She freezes and his eyes scan over her collarbone, “You let the bitch claim you and you fucking claimed her! You're with her pup now, aren’t you!?”

Her eyes fill with tears as he tightens his hold on her, and her gaze glues itself to her son who is looking at the Alpha that holds him with such fear that her heart breaks, “Please Bruce, put Dima down. He- he doesn’t need to hear or see any of this. Please”

“Doesn’t need to see any of it?! Is that how you felt when he had to watch some good for nothing Alpha replace his father?! Tell me, did you hide your kissing, cuddling and scenting from him?! Did you quietly admit your affections for the other?!” he practically screams, looking at her for the answers but becoming frustrated by her silence, “ Well, did you?!”

She chokes back a sob, “N-no, we didn’t”

“Well, if he got to see how you betrayed his dad then he gets to see how his dad makes things right!” Bruce tells her, his gaze falling back onto her stomach, “Now tell me Natasha, are you with Y/ns pup?!”

“Y-yes” she whispers, squeezing her eyes shut

She hadn’t wanted to admit it to him, but she feared what he would do to her if she kept denying him. His grip on her chin is alright tight enough to leave bruises behind, and in the past honesty had always gone better for her.

A low and terrifying growl ripples through him, it sets off a new level of fear in her and Dima feels it too. He starts crying again, and starts to desperately wiggly to get out of the mans grasp.

She hesitantly reaches for her terrified pup, “Bruce, please- ” SLAP

“You stupid slut” he degrades before walking over to set Dima down on the sofa nearby. He walks back over to her and harshly grabs her by the throat, not caring that tears begin to fall down her cheeks as she sputters for air, “So willing to let Y/n screw you that you never even thought of the consequences, did you?”

She opens her mouth to ask him to stop, but she finds that she can’t produce words. Whether that's due to her fear or his grip on her, she's unsure. Instead she lets out a whine while pumping out her scent. It's an apology, her way of it at least, and normally it works. Or it at least gets him to calm down long enough to not cause her as much harm as he could.

“Oh that won’t work this time. You can’t whine your way out of this hole” he tells her, anger still evident in his voice. His grip on the redheads throat tightness causing her to choke further as the edges of her vision begin to go black,and her hands desperately claw at the one he has wrapped around her

“Get your fucking hands off my Omega”

Despite her lightheadedness Natasha is filled with a sense of ease at the mere sound of your voice. Which is something Bruce picks up on immediately and he's not happy about it at all. He lets go of her only to turn around and face you with a growl

“Your Omega!? That's funny, because I remember claiming her and putting my pup in her! You didn’t do any of those things until you stole her from me!”

Despite your wobbly and injured state you chuckle, “That makes it sound like she had a choice in the matter, or like she didn’t have a choice when she picked me. But we both know you didn’t give her that option, and I most certainly did. She hates your guts Brucey boy. If she didn’t, she wouldn’t have claimed me”

He snarls before lunging at you, and in your state you're too slow to move out of the way in time, so your back collides with the staircase with a loud thump. You yell out in pain and he laughs at you, likely enjoying the fact that he's actually able to hurt you unlike the last time the two of you fought. Last time you had the upper hand, but he made sure you couldn’t have that this time by having his hired goons beat you to a bloody pulp first.

“You aren’t good enough for her!” he shouts, landing a punch to your already sore jaw

You grunt and manage to push him off you, “Me?! I treat her like a princess, because she deserves that at the very least! You treat her like she's a possession to own, not a person!”

“She's an Omega!” he retorts, punching your sore ribs, “Of course she's a possession! Just a worthless breeding bitch!!”

You growl as you tackle him and Natasha frees herself from the cloudiness of her brain in time to watch the two of you tumble across the floor. To her horror Bruce grabs one of the dining room chairs and swings it at you as you try to stand. It breaks over your back in one swift hit and she can practically hear all the air leave your lungs.

Bruce ruthlessly kicks you, making you gasp even harder as you fall to the floor, and though it's incredibly foolish to intervene in a fight between Alphas, Nat can’t just stand there and watch this maniac attack her loving mate any longer

“Get away from her!” she shouts, roughly shoving him. Surprised by her outburst and show of strength Bruce stumbles backwards, which give her enough time to help you to your feet

Though you're coughing wildly and gasping for breath you still gaze at her in such a loving way. It makes your next words hurt even more, “Get out of here Natty. Take Dima and run to the garage. Get in your car and go. Get to Wandas. Or Carols if you can”

She shakes her head, “No. No, I’m not leaving you here.”

“Omega- ”

“No!” she retorts, clutching at you, “I’m not leaving you alone with him. Not while you’re so hurt.”

Bruce's growl takes your attention away from your mate, and you do your best to situate her behind you. You don’t even want him looking at her let alone putting his hands on her again

“You took away the one thing that made me happy!” he accuses, “You took my family and you turned them against me! My mate! My pup! Even my own damn cousin!”

“You did that yourself by being an asshole!” you reply, tired of listening to his narcissistic monologues

“I hate you!” he yells, throwing himself at you

By some miracle you have enough strength to keep him from continuing on his path and colliding with Nat as well, but unfortunately that seems to have been the last bit you had because as he wails on you, you can hardly even lift up your arms to defend yourself from his blows.

“Stop!!” your Omega shouts as you fall to your knees, a dribble of blood and saliva dripping from your mouth to the floor beneath you. But Bruce doesn't care. He ignores her and walks behind you instead

He bends down to your level and wraps his arm around your throat, growling as he lifts you up to your feet with a squeeze, “I want my family back!”

“They're my f-family” you choke out, only making him angrier

“No, they're mine! That's my son! That's my Omega! Not yours!” he proclaims, grunting as he tightens his hold on your neck, “You don’t get this! You don’t get my happy ending!”

Your eyes widen and your hands weekly grab at his arm in an attempt to get him off you, but unfortunately at this point your brain has more strength than your body and your meager attempts are getting you nowhere. Natasha notices this and runs to your aid despite her parental instincts telling her to stay back for her pups sake

“Let go of her!!” she yells, sinking her nails into his forearm, “Get your hands off my Alpha!!”

“I AM YOUR ALPHA!!” he practically roars, before harshly shoving her away

Her eyes meet yours as her ass hits the floor, and she finds herself struck by the fact that despite all of the circumstances, you're still looking at her with so much love. But love isn’t always enough.

There's a sickening crunch that resounds, and your arms fall limply to your sides as your body goes slack in Bruce's arms. He huffs out a grunt before tossing you to the side, as if you were nothing more than a small trivial inconvenience and not a person whose life he’d just snuffed out. You hit the hardwood floor hard, causing Dimas cries to get loud once again and though your gaze still looks at your mate, you don’t see her.

Deep down Natasha knows you're gone, but right now she just can’t bring her rational mind to believe it and she rushes to your side, “Y/n! Alpha! Come on baby, don’t do this!”

She whimpers as her shaky hands nudge you, and your head moves loosely around, giving her all the proof she needs and tears cascade down her puffy red cheeks, “No no no…Alpha…my Alpha, please wake up baby! You have to get up! Please!”

“She's not going to wake up Natasha. She's dead.”

The Omega does her best to ignore him, though what he says is true, her heart isn’t ready to cope with such knowledge. Instead she brushes stray hair away from your battered face and tucks it behind your ear.

“Y/n baby.” she whines, gently shaking you once more, “Come on moya lyubov'(my love), please. You can’t leave me….you can’t leave us. Please Alpha”

Her hand comes to rest on her bump then as Dimas cries out, “Mama!! Wan Mama!!”

And it's then that Natasha breaks, because she knows her pup isn’t calling out for her, he's calling out for you. But you can’t answer him anymore. A guttural sob leaves her and she lets out a heartbreaking scream as she pulls you into her lap, and the way your head moves around so loosely is enough to make her nauseous.

“You killed her!!” she wails at the Alpha that catches his breath nearby, “You killed my Alpha!!”

His anger comes back full force and he yanks her reluctant form away from you body and slams her into the wall, “She is not your fucking Alpha! She wasn’t anything compared to me! You had your fun with her, but that's over with now! You're mine!”

She shakes her head and beats her fists against his chest, “I’m not yours! I’m Y/ns!!”

“Y/n is dead!! I killed her!!” he shouts, pointing a finger in her face, “And I’m going to kill her damn pup too!!”

Her eyes widen with fear once more and she begins to wiggle her way out of his grasp, “No!! No, you can’t!!”

She manages to free herself and takes off running towards the sofa, towards her pup that still cries out for his other mom. But just as she reaches him Bruces hand buries itself in her hair and he sharply tugs her backwards. She lets out a yelp of surprise and pain as she crashes to the floor at his feet.

“Stand up, Natasha.”

She shakes her head and wraps her arms protectively around her midsection, “No. Please Bruce, please. You don’t have to do this”

He smiles at her, “You're right, I don’t have to. But I want to. I’m going to erase every part of Y/ns existence in your life, that way you won’t be stupid enough to try something like this ever again”

She doesn’t voice her thoughts to him, but she knows he doesn’t need to worry about such a thing. Sure she doesn’t wanna be stuck with Bruce and his abusive ways forever, but there's absolutely no way she could ever fall for another Alpha. You were it for her, you had always been. But now you’ve been cruelly taken from her and she knows that loving another like she loves you is simply impossible.

“Please!” she whines, her tear streaked face finally looking up at him, “Please Bruce this pup, I love them so much and…and they're all I have left of Y/n now, please don’t take them from me too. Please”

He scoffs at her, “You truly expect me to raise Y/ns mutt of a pup?”

She shakes her head, “No! You don’t have to raise them! You don’t even have to interact with them! I’ll do everything on my own, I promise! Just please, please let me keep them!”

“No.” he coldly replies, kicking her thigh lightly, “Now stand up, Omega”

“Bruce please, not my pup! You’ve already taken Y/n from me, isn’t that enough?”

His jaw clenches at her noncompliance and without hesitation his fist collides with her cheek, “It’s enough when I say it’s enough! Now get up, or it’ll only be worse for you!”

“That's fine” she whimpers, “Hurt me all you want for running away into Y/ns arms and for taking Dima with me, but please don’t take it out on my pup. Please!”

“Natasha.” he growls, low and commanding. Were she not arguing for her unborn pups life, the tone alone would be enough to get her to bend to his will, “I will not tell you again. Stand. Up.”

She sobs uncontrollably and wraps her arms around his legs, both to keep him kicking her again and to show her sincerity in her next words, “Please! If you let me keep them, I’ll be a good Omega! I promise! I’ll behave for you! Please Bruce!”

“God you're pathetic.” he sneers, “Sniveling like some child all for the sake of a stupid pup”

“I’m not pathetic” she tells him, her lower lip trembling as she remembers all the loving things you’d tell her and remind her of to boost her confidence, “I’m an Omega, but that doesn’t make me weak”

He chuckles and shakes his head, “You are delusional Nat. Is this the kind of bullshit she’d tell you? God she really was a fool.”

“No, she wasn’t” the Omega responds, needing to defend you despite previous statement of telling the Alpha she’d behave, “She was brave and kind and loving.”

“Well, it doesn’t really matter what she was anymore does it?” he proclaims, grabbing her by the shirt collar and yanking her to her feet. His fist collides with her face once more and she wipers while stumbling, “Pick up our son then get your sorry ass in your car. We’re going home”

She nods and picks up the crying pup, doing her best to calm him as Bruces words sink in. Home. She could almost laugh at the thought, where he resided wasn’t home. Home was somewhere one felt safe, secured and loved. Home was here, because you had been here. But now, Natasha finds herself without her loving mate.

She slows her walk as she goes to walk past you, her tear filled eyes rake in your battered body and it takes everything in her not to fall to pieces as she sees little Liho beside you, looking at you with curious eyes as she nudges her head against your cheek. Dima sees this too and reaches his small hand out towards your direction.

“Mama! Wan Mama!” he demands, further breaking your Omegas heart, “And kitty!”

She hesitantly looks to the Alpha beside her, “C-can I let him say goodbye? Please? He's young, he won’t understand where she is if- if we just leave her.”

He grunts in irritation but nods his head, “Fine. But make it quick. I’m looking forward to getting you home and reclaiming you”

She swallows thickly and brings him over to you, kneeling beside you but shielding him from seeing you until she makes you look a bit more like yourself. She takes care to wipe any blood from your face and pushes any hair away from your face. She stifles a sob as she closes your eyes and she holds a hand to your cheek as she turns Dima to face you.

“Say…say goodbye to Mama h-honey”

His little brows furrow as he looks down at you, likely not understanding why you were so still or why you hadn’t greeted him in your normal excited way. He fights his way out of her hold and puts his small hand on your cheek like she is doing, “Mama?”

“Oh malen'kiy(little one)” Nat cries, hugging him close so Bruce can’t hear her next word, “She loved you so so much, just as she loved me. Please never forget that or her. Please remember your sweet Mama. Her laugh, her smile and her kindness.”

Sensing the sadness that envelops the redhead the small cat wanders over, meowing as she rubs against her leg. More tears flow down her face as she realizes that not only does she have to leave the life she had with you behind and your body, but also your last gift to her as well. Sweet little Liho. There was no way Bruce would allow her a pet, let alone one that had such a special connection to you.

“Hi my sweet girl” she greets, rubbing the spot behind her ears that makes her purr, “You're such a good and perfect kitty. I love you so much and so does Dima. Don’t forget us, ok? Don’t forget your family”

She picks up the black fluffball and kisses her forehead before letting Dima do the same, then she sadly sets the kitten down and stands, gathering her pup in her arms again. Liho meows and it could be her own emotions warping things but Natasha could swear she hears confusion and sadness in the meows that sound after her as she walks away, following Bruce out to the garage fully shattering her little bubble of denial.

As she settles into the passenger seat she collapses into sobs, and her hands rub at her bump in a poor attempt to keep herself from hysterics. She can nearly feel the ghost of your touch there too and the mark you’d left on her neck aches as she desperately whimpers for a mate that no longer exists. And as she watches your house disappear in the rearview mirror, she's almost certain she physically feels her heart breaking.

Dear readers, I just want to take a moment to thank you all for embarking on this journey with me and enjoying my story. You all shared your love and hopes for this fic and it warmed my heart to always see how much y'all enjoyed it. That being said, April fools! Haha (please don’t hurt me) I am not truely cruel enough to give yall such an unfair and heartbreaking outcome for Natty. No, the true chapter comes out on the 7th, and I hope you stick around to enjoy its maximum fluffness!!

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