#i’m spending the evening with a friend tomorrow but i’ll answer as many as i can in the morning!!!!! <33 | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

munson-blurbs · 8 months

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Inspired by this TikTok. Thank you to @lesservillain for the idea and to @emsgoodthinkin for brainstorming with me!

Summary: Eddie jumpscares you one too many times, and so you decide to freak him out at work. But who will be more shocked: him, or you?

Warnings: fem!reader, friends-to-lovers, idiots in love, brief description of (fake) gore, joke about throwing up (doesn't actually happen), kissing as a joke (please only kiss w/ consent irl)

WC: 1.3k

It was just a joke.

A joke that had started when Eddie had barged into your house—the man wouldn’t knock if his life depended on it—and proudly announced, “I got the job!”

The job in question was a haunted house performer at Hawkins’ annual Fall Festival. You’d both been going since you were kids, and his favorite part had always been the haunted house.

He’d gotten word about his new job in early September. By mid-October, you’re fully sick and tired of his antics.

“Boo!” he’d yelled as he jumped out from behind the Wheeler’s couch, making you leap out of your seat.

“Raaahhh!” he’d growled in your ear while you were in the midst of a conversation with Robin, and once your heartbeat returned to normal, you flipped him off.

His enthusiastic “Gotcha!” during your history quiz was the final straw. You’d yelped, actually shrieked in the middle of class, clapping a hand over your mouth as Mrs. Click glared at you.

“I’m gonna get you back for that,” you’d hissed once you’d turned in your exam, growing more irritated when he’d just shook his head.

“You can’t scare me,” he retorted with a smirk, leaning up against a locker. “You’ve never been able to freak me out, and you never will. Don’t even try, little girl.”

Challenge accepted.

You spend the rest of the week wracking your brain for ideas. What is Eddie Munson afraid of? What will shock him?

The obvious answer is hiding a prized possession and making him think it was stolen or lost. You grin to yourself as you picture him frantically searching for Sweetheart; maybe you could leave a ransom note of sorts.

But that plan has too many moving pieces, so you scrap it. You’re about to give up entirely when Robin inadvertently gives you an idea.

“You guys coming to Steve’s party tomorrow?” she asks in between bites of her turkey sandwich.

“I’m down,” you eagerly agree, itching to have a night out with friends.

When Robin turns to Eddie, he shakes his head. “Gotta work,” he reminds her, wiggling his fingers to emphasize the spooky nature of his job.

Robin rolls her eyes. “Fine, okay. Stop by after. I promise we won’t make you play spin the bottle again.”

Eddie’s eyes widen, cheeks redden, and he gets up from the lunch table without another word.

Bingo.

The plan is set: on Friday, before Steve’s party, you’ll pay Eddie a visit at the Fall Festival. It’ll be a visit he’ll never forget, you’re sure of that.

Robin stands with you outside the haunted house, picking at a funnel cake with powdered sugar-coated fingers. “I’ll wait out here,” she promises, “but when you’re done, I wanna hear everything. Especially the look on his face.”

“You got it.” You shoot her a thumb’s up as you jog up to the bored-looking attendant taking tickets.

You’re in.

The first room just sets the tone. Eerie organ music pulses through an ancient sound system, and a fog machine creates a steam that prevents you from seeing the floor. Cobwebs hang in the corners of the ceiling, though you’re suspicious that they’re not intentional decorations.

Eddie’s not in the next room, either; just a woman wearing a blood-spattered wedding dress, wielding a knife and clutching a plastic severed head. She’s screaming something about, “teaching him not to cheat with a bridesmaid,” and looks vaguely annoyed that you’re not quaking with terror.

You go through three more rooms, getting increasingly irritating with the lack of Eddie in each one. He’s working tonight, so he has to be here—

Loud, stomping footsteps follow you into the dungeon-themed section of the house, and your heart skips a beat as you lay eyes on him. A distorted mask covers his face, but his unruly curls give him away despite the mad scientist costume he’s donning. He holds up a knife and creeps closer, a low growl emanating from his throat. You run until you no longer can, and he easily traps you, the cold metal gate pressing into your back.

If you’re going to do it, now’s your chance.

In one swift motion, you turn him so he’s backed up into the gate. A soft, confused “wha—?” leaves his lips as you lift his mask and lean in before you lose your nerve. Your lips press against his; hands on his cheeks as he accepts the way you melt into him.

Why isn’t he pulling away? Why isn’t he laughing and appreciating your prank? Why does it seem like he wants this…like he’s BEEN wanting this?

Fuck. Fuck.

This isn’t what you were expecting. He’s kissing you back, surprised but hungry, and you’re the one who ends up breaking away.

Before he can begin to question what’s happening, you dash out of the room. No. No, no, no. Your head spins as you attempt to process the emotions pulsing through your veins.

It was supposed to be a way of getting him back for his unwavering desire to scare you. Show him what it’s like to be the one on the other side of the joke. Because that’s all it was; a joke.

So why do you want to kiss him again?

Fresh air hits you like a slap in the face, and once you find Robin, you cling to her like a lifeline.

“We have to go,” you mumble, dragging her to the exit and refusing to make eye contact.

“Whoa, what happened?” When you refuse to answer, she sighs but doesn’t relent. “C’mon, did he, like, throw up or something?”

You shake your head. “I think he liked it.”

“Of course he did,” she says with a laugh, “the guy’s in love with you.” She nudges your hip with her own. “Toldja he would lose his shit.”

Your mouth goes dry. “Robs…when I said that I wanted him to ‘freak out,’ what did you think I meant?”

Robin crinkles her nose. “Um, that the Dingus-ette—that’s you—and her doting Dingus were finally going to admit that they have big, stupid crushes on each other?” Her expression falters when you stop in your tracks. “What did you mean?”

“I wanted,” you start, swallowing hard like a gob of peanut butter is stuck to the roof of your mouth, “I wanted to get him back for scaring me. I wanted to freak him out.”

“Mission accomplished.”

She’s no longer looking at you when she speaks, and you follow her gaze to where Eddie’s shuffling over to you. You want to beg her to stay, but she just squeezes your hand in a silent good luck.

“Hi.” Eddie’s voice is uncharacteristically quiet. “Can we talk?”

You can only nod in response. His mask is atop his mess of curls, and you can see the longing in his eyes. How have you never noticed it before? How did you not notice the need within yourself?

“Actually, I’m lying. I don’t want to talk.” With that, his arms pull you into him, torsos pressed together, and he’s kissing you. It’s like a missing link in a chain you hadn’t realized was broken, and you allow your hands to drape over his shoulders. You can feel him trembling slightly as he deepens the kiss.

“You okay?” you murmur against his lips.

“Huh? Oh, yeah,” he answers, ducking his head behind his curtain of hair. “Guess ‘m just a little freaked out that this is really happening.”

A smile twitches at the corners of your mouth, and you lace your fingers with his.

“Good.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things fanfic #stranger things #fanfic #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst

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fluentmoviequoter · 2 months

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Hold My Hand

Requested Here!

Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!reader

Summary: When you receive unwanted attention on a weekend staycation with your friends, a knight in a shining navy suit saves you by offering his hand.

Warnings: creepy guy doesn't understand 'no' and continues making unwanted advances, but Tim saves the day. angst to fluff (I guess?)

Word Count: 1.4k+ words

Picture from Pinterest

Masterlist Directory | Tim Bradford Masterlist | Request Info/Fandom List

When your friends invited you out for a girls’ weekend, you were expecting a spa retreat or a cottage at the beach, not a penthouse in Los Angeles. More than that, you didn’t expect them to pick one of the sleaziest restaurants you’ve ever seen to spend their Friday night. Luckily – if there is a ‘luckily’ in this situation – you found a quiet corner on the rooftop. Your friends are downstairs, huddled around the bar as they look for rich, single men. It doesn’t exactly seem like the breeding ground for that type of man, though.

“Good evening, gorgeous,” a deep voice says behind you.

Assuming they’re talking to someone else, you ignore them, keeping your attention on the railing around the roof’s edge.

“Hey, ‘m talking to you,” he adds.

When his hand lands on your upper arm, forcefully turning you toward him, you truly begin regretting coming on this trip.

✯✯✯✯✯

Tim feels like an animal in a zoo enclosure. Wearing a suit that isn’t his, in a place he’d rather never see again, with a few too many pairs of eyes blatantly watching him.

Two hours ago, he was sitting in the station, minutes away from getting to go home. Now he, Lucy, and Angela are undercover in a known mafia club. While the women in the restaurant stare at Tim, the men try to catch Lucy and Angela’s attention.

Sighing, Tim checks his watch. He’s been in one place too long with no sign of their target.

“I’m gonna go check the roof, see if our target’s up there,” Tim tells Lucy.

“The roof?” she asks.

“Yeah, the bar.”

“There’s a bar on the roof?!”

“We’re in Los Angeles, boot, of course there’s a bar on the roof. Angela, keep her close.”

Angela nods, and if Lucy wasn’t already a little creeped out by the men standing across the room, she would be offended.

Tim gets in the elevator, leaning against the wall once the doors are closed. The rooftop bar, however, is full of people who are somehow more intimidating than the ones inside. Looking around, Tim doesn’t see the target or any of his known associates. What he does see, though, is a situation that he shouldn’t get involved in, yet he can’t look away.

✯✯✯✯✯

The man beside you cannot take a hint. You slowly back away until his hand falls from your arm, and one of your legs slides off the barstool. When your foot hits the floor, you stand and keep the seat between you.

“C’mon, gorgeous, ‘s jus’ a question,” he slurs. “Yes or no?”

“I said no,” you repeat firmly.

He doesn’t like your answer, though, and you try to hide your flinch when he slams his glass down on the bar.

“You here alone?”

You glance around, hoping you see someone who looks trustworthy enough to hide with. But you don’t see anyone who fits the bill.

“No,” you answer. “My friends are downstairs.”

“Just friends?”

He leans closer, his arm moving to cage you on one side. Inhaling sharply, you try to think of a way to escape this situation without making it worse or drawing more unwanted attention.

✯✯✯✯✯

“We’ve got nothing,” Angela says in Tim’s earpiece. “Anything up there?”

“No,” Tim answers.

“We’re leaving then. Can’t do anything without him here.”

“I’ll, uh, I’ll catch up.”

“What?” Lucy asks.

“I’ve got to do something first. I’ll see you at the station tomorrow. Call if you need anything.”

Tim removes the earpiece, switching it off as he drops it into his blazer pocket. Moving quickly across the rooftop, he doesn’t realize that he doesn’t have a real plan.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Hey,” another voice says beside you. “I was wondering where you got off to. What’s going on here?”

You glance over, and your shoulders drop when you see how clean-cut and trustworthy he looks. Given your current situation, you’re glad to see a man who isn’t clearly a predator, but you try not to think about how low the bar is.

“Hi,” you reply. “I was trying to come back, but, uh, got caught up.”

Widening your eyes slightly, you try to communicate that you are not here by choice.

“Give her some room, man.”

The creep leans back enough that you can move, and you rush to your savior’s side.

“And next time a woman tells you ‘no,’ you’d do well to listen,” he adds darkly, letting you hide behind his shoulder.

“Whatever. She jus’ doesn’t know what she wants.”

A kind hand turns you around, and the man whispers, “I’m Tim.”

You tell him your name, flinching when glass shatters behind you.

“Hold my hand,” Tim says, spreading his fingers between you as he looks over his shoulder.

Without hesitation, you interlace your fingers with his. He pulls you close as the elevator opens. Once you’re alone, neither of you releases your grip on the other’s hand.

“Thank you,” you breathe out. “I didn’t know what else to do.”

“I hate that I had to jump in, but you’re welcome. Are you okay? Did he touch you?”

You shake your head, looking down at your joined hands.

“Do you really have friends downstairs?”

“I have… acquaintances that I will never be going on vacation with again.”

“Vacation? You’re not from here?”

“That’s the funny part. We all live here, so imagine my surprise when the weekend getaway was twenty minutes from my house.”

“Sounds like you need new friends.”

You hum before asking, “Who are you here with?”

“For work.”

At your confused glance, Tim raises his blazer to reveal a badge.

That must be why he helped you.

The door opens, and you pull your hand from his.

“Thanks for helping me, officer. Have a great night.”

Tim watches as you disappear into the crowd, stepping out of the elevator confused and surprisingly upset. Pulling his phone from his pocket, he calls the only person he can think of.

“No questions, Angela. I helped a girl get away from a guy who didn’t understand ‘no.’ As soon as she saw the badge she disappeared. Something was happening before that-“

“Timothy,” Angela sighs. “She thinks you did it out of duty then let her flirt with you. Find her and ask her out, anything to show that you did it for her and not because of some twisted savior complex.”

“Thanks, Lopez.”

Ending the call, Tim heads toward the bar. He thinks that’s where groups of girls on vacation probably hang out. When the bar comes into view, he has no problem finding you, like the brightest light in a dark room.

“Nothing happened, I just went to the roof for a while,” you insist.

“No, you had that glow thing. You met a guy.”

“Maybe I did but he wasn’t interested.”

“Don’t drag me into this if you’re not going to tell the story right,” Tim says, approaching your side.

“Tim?” you ask, turning toward him.

Your body language with him compared to the man upstairs, even how you interact with the women you're here with, differs vastly. Squared to him and completely open, you’re practically inviting him to do something.

“I didn’t do it because I thought I had to. I was off the clock, not that it matters. My motivation may have been pure, just to help, at first, but then you held my hand and I never wanted to let go.”

“Can we…” you pause as you look around. “Can we please not do this here?”

“As long as we do it now.”

Tim offers his hand, and you nod as you take it. Leading you through the crowd, Tim keeps you close. Exiting onto the noisy Los Angeles street, Tim turns toward you.

“I could tell you needed help, or wanted it at least,” Tim explains. “But I don’t want this to end here. I- your hand fits in mine.”

“Please don’t tell me that means we’re soulmates or something.”

Tim smiles, and you forget why you were upset in the elevator.

“I’m Tim Bradford,” he introduces, shaking your already joined hands. “I am a cop, but not with you. With you, I think I could be the man I’d like to be.”

“Romantic,” you murmur.

“I know. It’s scaring me a little. You can’t tell my friends, okay?”

“As long as we don’t tell mine either.”

“So, you’re willing to try?”

“I mean, where else am I going to find a knight in a shining navy suit?” you ask, leaning closer. “As long as your hand stays in mine, I’m willing to try.”

#tim bradford x reader #tim bradford fluff #tim bradford imagine #tim bradford the rookie #tim bradford #the rookie #fem!reader #requests

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makuro-ua · 1 year

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Pssst, uh!!

I’m unsure if you do kinda hurt comfort-y esque stuff? But in the case you do, I wanted to mmmaybe request smthn with Wally?

Mainly just uhh,, a reader that. like. tends to isolate themselves when they get in a funk. they just kinda slowly withdraw more and more. maybe just,, like,, smthn of him checking up on said reader as he notices them slowly not being present more and more? Comfort stuff, blaahh (could be platonic or romantic!!- I don’t mind either)

I hope you have a lovely day!!!

Wally Darling x Isolated! GN! Reader

“Shh… Take a few deep breaths.”

Warnings : Tiny angst, reader collapsing, and reader isolating themselves until they’re sick. Platonic or Romantic?: Can be read as both. {———————————————————————————}

It was a normal day at the neighborhood, and you were having a moment with Julie and the others.

Julie had set up an idea for everyone in the neighborhood, and that was for everyone to share their games with others.

Julie held a fashion competition as her game, Frank held a butterfly catching contest— you name it.

Of course, you had your own game too.

When that day came and everyone began playing the activities one by one, you kept embarrassing yourself during the games even though the others insisted it was okay.

I mean, you mistook a belt for a scarf at Julie’s fashion competition and tripped so many times at Frank’s butterfly catching contest to the point he’d tell you to sit back and relax.

Of course, Frank had to patch you up after his game before proceeding to Sally’s game.

These mistakes of yours continued on as the day went and you felt absolutely humiliated and embarrassed.

Everyone was having fun, but you felt upset about yourself for making so many mistakes.

You felt worthless for not being able to do such simple tasks the others set up for their game, and you felt bad that the other neighbors had to spend their time worrying about you while they were having fun.

Since you noticed they were getting worried, you decided to shake your head and smile at them, giving them a small ‘It’s okay! I’ll be fine.’ each time they ask you if you’ll be okay.

At afternoon, it was Wally’s turn to conduct his game.

You didn’t show up.

Wally noticed this. He asked the others where you were, and they told him that you just decided to go home early because you had to feed your new pet rock.

Pet rock?

Both you and Wally were close enough to know that you didn’t have a pet.

Unless you didn’t tell him, that’d sort of hurt his feelings.

But either way, Wally decided to continue his game, which was a painting competition. He thinks you needed rest after the small incidents you went through today.

Wally decided to paint you for his game and give it to you tomorrow.

The next day, he noticed you hadn’t come out your house until it was around midday.

When he tried talking to you, your voice was slightly raspy and the area around your eyes were slightly red.

Were you crying?

He was about to ask if you were okay, but you quickly ended the conversation and walked to your house as quickly as you can.

The next day passed, and Wally asked the others if they noticed you.

They said that they saw you through the day sometimes. This confused Wally because he hasn’t even seen you.

Its been a week. After the 4th day, you were gone.

Wally decided that this was enough and knocked on your door.

“Neighbor? I know you’re there. Are you okay?”

No answer.

Wally doesn’t think you’re okay— but he tells himself that he shouldn’t think too soon and keep calm.

But you’ve been gone for days.

Ever since the game activity with the neighborhood, you’ve been acting strange.

That day, he noticed how your eyes would glisten whenever you’d mess up the activities. He was mostly staring at you the whole day, and usually you’d notice— but you looked too upset to even look back at him.

He knocked again. No answer.

“[Y/N]?… It’s Wally. Wally Darling, your friend.”

It took a few minutes, and he was about to give up and walk away until he heard the door unlock and open slightly.

You peeked through the door.

Wally looked at you, noticing how puffy your eyes were and how there were dark circles under your eyes.

You were a mess.

“Hi, Wally.”

Your voice sounded so tired

H took note of how you were trying to hold yourself up against the door.

“My dear, what—“

The short puppet was about to ask what happened to you, but you immediately collapsed against the door.

Wally reached out through the small crack in the door and grabbed your arm before you would hit the floor.

“[Y/N]?”

You were sleeping.

He fully opened your door and attempted to carry you. These were times where Wally wished he’d be a bit taller than you so that he’d be able to carry you properly.

Gosh, you were burning up.

The state of your house was slightly messy, but he heads to your living room and gently laid you on the couch.

Wally put his palm over your forehead. You were REALLY warm.

He sighed and prepared a bucket of cold water and a wet towel.

Wally put it over your head, and put a blanket over you.

By the time you woke up, you were about to sit up and panic until you heard someone call out across the couch your were laying in.

“Don’t move. You’re sick, dear. What happened?”

Wally? why was he here?

You listened to him and relaxed your body.

“Good. Just relax yourself, dear. What happened to you?”

You couldn’t respond well, since thinking about the events of last week made your heart ache.

You tried to restrain yourself from crying, really.

“[Y/N]?…”

You finally broke down into silent tears.

Wally walked towards you and gestured you sit up.

He sat down next to you and gently placed your head down his lap.

“Shh, it’s okay— take a few deep breaths.”

The puppet man wiped your tears and gently massaged your scalp so that you’d calm down better as you were taking deep breaths.

Once you calmed down, Wally listened to your thoughts and how you felt too embarrassed to show up around the neighborhood after the game activity from last week.

“Oh, [Y/N]…”

Wally lets out a few chuckles before looking down at you with half lidded eyes.

He gave you a sad smile.

“You know, I’ve been around here for long to know that our neighbors are nice and are willing to accept new people with open arms. Like how they did with you when you first moved in.”

“But dear, no matter the mistakes or embarrassments you make, they’d never think of you in an ill matter. In fact, they’re very grateful of you and respect you in many ways.”

You sniffled as he went along with his talk, his comforting voice making the weight on your shoulders lessen and lessen, until you felt better.

Wally sang you a small song in case you were still crying, and when you did— he gave you a smile.

“It’s all gonna be okay.”

{——————————————————}

A/N : Hi anon! I hope I got this one right. I had fun with this one, and I hope this was a good read for everyone! as always, thank you for reading!

#wally darling x reader #wally darling welcome home #wally darling #welcome home wally #welcome home arg #welcome home puppet show #welcome home

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lz-didyounotice · 2 months

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Princess Babysitting

This gif does not belong to me

Heyy! Hope you lots are doing well! For this one, lots of fluff with the doctor. 10th discovering his companion can sing (at least decently). Also slipped some barbie tunes in there since it takes place in the 2000’s. Lots of fond memories. If I'm not mistaken, the next one will be a baking weekend with the 11th doctor. well, hope you enjoy.

Forggit-

Warnings : Comfort and fluff on the horizon. Barbie references.

—--------------------------------------------

Today was supposed to be uneventful.

For once, you had hoped to get a little time off on earth, but of course, your best friend had to have other ideas. Fanny had an important meeting for their wedding, and couldn’t take the girls with them. She needed you to play babysitter for the two little blonds.

And there goes your plans to go shopping with the doctor. Even if you were exhausted, you couldn’t turn her down. You were the godmother of the two little monsters after all, and the grandparents were too far from town to be called last minute.

Getting the girl's bag, you finally got out of the car, the two blonds already sprinting for the door.

“Wait up girls, the door’s not even open yet!” Key in hand, you let them in. Without doubt, you could feel this was going to be quite the afternoon.

Phone in hand, you tried to call the Tardis, watching the two kids going off inside the guest room.

“Hello ?”

“Doctor !”

“(Y/N)! What seems to be going on ?” The doctor let out, happy to hear your voice.

“Hum… Two little blond monsters scavenging my house… I am afraid our little afternoon out has to be canceled. Fanny had an important meeting, and I couldn’t say no to babysitting the girls.”

“Meh! The shops can wait, want me to drop by tomorrow morning ?”

“Could you also grab some coffee? I think I will need a lot of that.”

"Of course!"

It wasn’t the first time you had to turn down the doctor on one of your days off for the two little demons. You loved them dearly, and in the end you had always found your day more fun than if you had it alone. But spending less time with the timelord was always a bummer.

“So. Girls… What do you want to do ?”

“Can we play 12th princesses ?”

“Why am I not surprised ?” You said laughing lightly.

“Please?~” The little girls asked, wanting to put out their little dresses.

“Fine, go change, I’ll grab mine.”

—--------------

And just like that, morning rolled around. You, still covered in glitter as you had played dress up with the two princesses, pretending for there to be a magic portal in the main room.

The floor was still decorated with many floral stickers, all in the right order, as you were sound asleep on the couch. The two girls had been picked up late last night by their mom. You didn’t dare to take a wash before going to sleep, and instead wrapped yourself in the covers of your couch and slept as much as you could, not wanting to be unable to go through the day.

Soon, the whooshing sound of the Tardis, and an excited Doctor, woke you up, making you wonder at first why you were in such a state.

Coffee sent spreaded everywhere as you caught the circular pattern on your floor, and the lovely sand shoes standing on them.

“Well, morning Doctor….-”

“Good morning to you too (Y/N). How was your night with the girls ?”

“I’m sure you can figure this out -” You mentioned looking at the mess the room was in.

For now, all you could think of was getting into a shower as soon as possible and getting rid of the glitter in your hair. “Well, make yourself home, i’ll be back in ten minutes..”

Not waiting for an answer, you barely looked at the doctor. Trying to get out of the mess your legs were trapped in. After struggling a moment, he had offered his assistance to you. But letting out a frustrated sigh you dismissed him, tumbling into your room to pick some new clothes, the covers following close behind.

—--------------

You then went for the shower, still half awake. And as you turned on the shower, you felt every worry slip down the drain. Every sparkle trapped in your hair, finally escaping for the most part. Unforntunatly you knew you would find some on your pillow for the rest of the week.

And as you shampooed your hair, you only could think of that stupid movie the girls had you watch. "Barbie and the 12 dancing princesses". The main theme was still stuck in your head. There weren't any lyrics to it, just the melody. And as silly as it was, you couldn’t help yourself from smiling a bit as you started singing, enjoying the reverberation your shower was giving to your voice.

As you finished showering, taking your towel around you, you twirled, continuing to Derek's tune on the small carpet. And as you opened the door, finally clothed to go on a new adventure, you bumped into the doctor a few steps away from the door.

“Why are you standing there ?” Blush creeps on your cheeks as you realize he might have heard you singing.

“Nothing, admiring your decoration-”

“Against the bathroom door ?” You almost wanted to laugh at the awkwardness he found himself in.

“Now you’re making this sound a lot creepier than it needs to be.”

“It is!~” You mentioned in an exaggerated whisper. Passing by him, you took the coffee he had put on the counter, and directed yourself to the Tardis, the doctor following soon after.

“How come I didn’t know you could sing ?” The brunette asked while putting in the new destination.

“Because you never asked ?” Now you were even more embarrassed. You could sing decently, sure, you would have hoped that by this time in your many lives, you would have caught some tricks to pass as okay. But the Doctor seemed genuinely surprised by your talent.

Looking more into it, you could see there was something more, something he wasn’t sure he wanted to say.

“Something on your mind Doctor ?” You asked him in a softer tone.

“Do you think you could sing more often in the Tardis ?” The doctor feared for you to reject the proposition. It was in your very right to not do so. But the more he stayed in silence, the more his thoughts got loud. Even the radio wasn’t doing the trick anymore.

“I-I mean. If you're not bothered by it, I don’t see why not…” And finally, a beautiful smile brightened his face. As if something was just leafed from his shoulders.

“Brilliant! So, where to? Past? Future? New planet ?”

“How about the 20th century? Edwardian Era?”

“Allons-y!” He let out pulling the levers, you giving him a hand on the ones he couldn’t reach.

—--------------

And from this point on, you weren’t afraid to sing louder for him to hear, knowing it was something he appreciated. When in the mood he would even join you in your antics, sometimes, leading both of you to dance around the room, for it to be silly or plainly in each other's arms.

The tension built more and more, to the point both of you couldn’t help it. And you were becoming more and more in love with the man, your heart jumping every time he held you so close to both of his hearts.

You were becoming a mess when his hands reached for your waist, making you forget the lyrics to the songs you could sing by heart. It couldn’t have been more obvious, still, the Doctor doubted you felt the same, merely noting that some things made a small blush creep on your cheeks. He had supposed it was only shyness when infact it was him who was making you a blushing mess.

How thick the both of you were. Donna would probably have had both your head to not have said anything.

#Spotify #the doctor x reader #doctor who x imortal reader #10th doctor x reader #tenth doctor #noble reader #doctor who x reader #doctor who

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defectivevillain · 11 months

Text

this broken design, ch5

summary: “Dr. Lecter?” You blink a few times, convinced that you’re dreaming. The man’s gleaming eyes and concerned expression seem a bit too realistic to be conjured by your sleeping mind, though. You’re not sure if you’ve ever seen him look worried. You quickly decide that you don’t like it.

“Hannibal, please,” the doctor responds nonchalantly. You stare at him in utter confusion. Just what is happening right now? You thought you were dreaming, but this feels a bit too vivid. “What are you doing out here?”

read from the beginning here! [this won’t make much sense, otherwise]

[ao3 version]

notes: I privated my ao3 account so that only registered users can see it... since all the ai stuff has been going on and I'd rather be safe than sorry.... I'm not sure how many ppl follow with the series here on Tumblr, but I figured I'd post it here too, in case any of you don’t have an ao3 account... [I posted this a bit ago on ao3, so apologies for the tardiness]

the gif above is so funny. the lil head tilt is killing me, idk.

warnings: panic attack, self harm (digging nails into skin), franklyn having zero boundaries

You’re in Hannibal’s home again. You really need to have more self-preservation—you’re practically a gift-wrapped murder victim here. Although, he hasn’t killed you yet. Maybe you’ll be fine. Perhaps you aren’t as rude as you thought you were. The thought amuses you.

Inexplicably, as you’re speaking with Hannibal, he asks you to accompany him to the opera. The request is so unexpected that it takes you several moments to realize you heard him correctly. Hannibal stares at you expectantly and you take a deep breath.

“You realize I don’t know the first thing about opera,” you remark apprehensively. “Surely there are far better choices than me.” Doesn’t he have acquaintances that are more suited for this type of outing? You’re certain you would look extremely out of place amidst the typical visitors. Surely, Hannibal knows that he will put his reputation at risk by bringing you along. You try to convey those sentiments in the eye contact you’re currently maintaining with the man, but he doesn’t seem dissuaded in the slightest.

“You are my friend and I want to spend time with you,” Hannibal states easily. You envy his ability to be so straightforward with his thoughts and feelings. “Is that really so strange?”

“I suppose not,” you frown. Fond of breaking doctor-patient boundaries, are we, Dr. Lecter? You dispel the thought. Admittedly, from the first moment you interacted with Hannibal, you knew he would be more than a psychiatrist. You’re happy to consider him a close friend now.

“Are you amenable?” Hannibal then asks, just before you can zone out and lose focus.

“When is it?” You ask, despite knowing that you don’t have much going on this week anyway.

“Tomorrow night,” Hannibal answers. You raise an eyebrow.

“Rather late notice,” you say, if only to make him sweat a bit. Of course, Hannibal’s perfectly crafted mask remains in place. “Did your date cancel on you?” Hannibal’s eyebrows furrow and he crosses his arms over his chest. You decide to take pity on him and stop messing around.

“I’m just kidding,” you interject with a grin. It’s kind of fun to see how much you can push Hannibal around. You get the feeling that no one really questions him. It’s amusing to see him scramble for an explanation, even though the effort is perfectly rehearsed. “I think I’m free; I’d love to go. You just may have to deal with my complete ignorance when it comes to opera music.”

“I think I’ll survive,” Hannibal smiles. Is he playing along? You raise your eyebrows in surprise. Admittedly, you weren’t expecting that. It’s nice to know that Hannibal can take a joke.

“Anyway, thank you for inviting me into your home again; I hope I’m not intruding.”

“Of course not,” Hannibal says with a shake of his head, as if the very thought is ludicrous.

“I invited you.” Hannibal then excuses himself for a moment and you take the opportunity to look around his kitchen. You suppress the extremely compelling urge to look through his drawers—you know what you’ll find and you’re certain you don’t want to see it. Instead, you let your eyes rove over the polished cabinets and clean counters. Just before you can lose interest, your gaze falls on the rolodex. Interest peaking, you decide to walk towards it.

It appears the rolodex holds business cards of people Hannibal has met. You idly flip through the rolodex, needing something to occupy your restless hands. A few of the names are (unsurprisingly) ones you recognize. It takes you a few moments of observation to realize just what purpose this rolodex serves. It appears this is a list of potential murder victims. Flipping through the various business cards, you don’t see a common denominator. “Whenever feasible, one should always try to eat the rude,” Hannibal had told you once. On second thought, these business cards are probably people that Hannibal has determined to be rude. You go through the names with renewed interest. A few of them are rather fancy. One even looks remarkably close to yours. You move to the next one before a breath catches in your chest and you find yourself returning to the one that caught your eye.

The business card is extremely similar to yours—same color and font. You squint at it, heart racing in your chest as you look at the name written on it. It must be another government agent, surely. You all have similar, standard-issue business cards. You just hope it isn’t any of your acquaintances. You’re expecting to see anyone from Jack Crawford to Alana Bloom. You close your eyes for a moment, before finally giving in and reading the name. It’s… It’s your name.

You stare at the card in disbelief. Where did Hannibal get your business card? It has your name, phone number, email address… It even has your office location at headquarters. You swallow past the trepidation building in your core. You can’t quite stop the choked laugh that escapes your lips. You let your guard down. You had foolishly hoped that maybe, just maybe, things would be different. You let your guard down and, now, your name rests amidst the names of current and future Ripper victims.

“Is everything alright?” The timing could not be worse. Hannibal walks in as you’re looking at the rolodex and you quickly turn around, trying to shield it from his view. You’re not sure what expression is on your face, but it must be suitably harrowed, because his face twists in concern—mock concern, your mind supplies. “You look rather shaken.”

“Yes, of course,” you answer. It takes every ounce of practice you’ve accumulated to keep the fear from your voice. You sound slightly flat, but you’re convinced that you’ve mostly concealed your true feelings. “Apologies, Dr. Lecter. I think I’d better get going.”

You can tell that Hannibal is suspicious, but you don’t give him the chance to ask you about it—instead deigning to murmur a quick goodbye and walk out to your car. You’re infinitely grateful that you had the foresight to drive yourself. You’re not sure that you would’ve had the energy to maintain your composure in Hannibal’s company.

You wait until you’re a sufficient distance from Hannibal’s home to sag in your seat and sigh heavily. You’d been growing too big of an ego. Hannibal is the Chesapeake Ripper. The two of you are friends and you foolishly assumed that your friendship gave you immunity. Clearly, that isn’t the case. You need to remember yourself, remember that the composed dinner host you often sit across from is a practiced killer. One false move and you’re dead. Once you get home, you spend the remainder of the evening in an anxious and paranoid haze. It takes you a while to fall asleep that night and, when you do, the Ripper follows you into your dreams.

The next morning, you receive a text from Hannibal—which includes the details of the opera and what time he plans to pick you up. It takes you several moments to ground yourself in reality and remember that Hannibal isn’t aware of your knowledge that he’s the Ripper. Once you collect your composure, you insist that you can drive yourself—but he waves off the suggestion and maintains that he’ll drive. Admittedly, now that you’re thinking about it, you don’t have the slightest clue what to wear. You’ve never really been to an opera performance before, and you can only imagine what the people in attendance will be wearing. You have no idea where to begin searching for an outfit. Your closet isn’t exactly the best.

Eventually, you swallow your pride and text Hannibal. He knows you’re not sophisticated, you think to yourself. Asking him for help isn’t that embarrassing. In fact, you’d rather ask and lose a bit of dignity than try to puzzle it out on your own [and fail miserably.] Hannibal is quick to respond—almost as if he had been expecting the question—and says that he’ll bring clothes for you. You immediately have several objections to that, but they fall on determined ears. You regret asking, now.

A few hours later, there’s a quiet knock on your door. You open the door to find Hannibal waiting on your doorstep, folded clothing in hand. You shake your head in exasperation and let him in. “Thank you,” you say, taking the clothes he’s extending out to you. You still feel the need to try to argue one more time. “I could’ve found something on my own.”

Hannibal looks you up and down, in a manner that makes you feel extremely self conscious. You aren’t exactly wearing the fanciest clothing right now, but that’s only because you knew you’d be changing. “Doubtful,” Hannibal remarks. You glare at him, only to find his lips twisted in that slightly amused smirk. You roll your eyes.

“I’m going to change,” You then realize that this is the first time that Hannibal has been in your home. He’s driven you many times, but he’s never gotten out of the car before. “Feel free to explore, I guess.” You’re struck with the sudden mundane feeling of shame, as you recognize how much less luxurious your home is. Hannibal doesn’t seem to mind, though, as he starts to walk around and look at things. Meanwhile, you head to the bathroom.

Once you place the clothes on the bathroom counter, you’re once again realizing that you’re out of your depth. The outfit he’s given you is extremely lavish: an extravagant suit with dress pants. Upon further examination, you realize that he even gave you an undershirt. You push aside all the strange, conflicting feelings you have about sharing clothes with your psychiatrist. Unsurprisingly, the clothes smell very strongly of Hannibal’s cologne. It takes all of your resistance not to cough once you put them on. You’re not very fond of fragrances to begin with, since they often give you headaches. But, you know you have no right to complain. It was extremely generous of Hannibal to lend you clothing, and you don’t plan to disrespect the gesture by complaining about his cologne. You put on the rest of the clothing and assess yourself in the mirror. You look rather good, you have to admit. Of course, it’s all due to Hannibal’s clothing. You take a moment to brush your teeth again before walking back out into the main area of the house, where Hannibal seems to be looking at your decorations with a keen eye. He turns around upon hearing you enter and, for a long moment, the two of you stare at each other in silence.

Inexplicably, Hannibal breaks the distance between you and reaches out. Your heart is racing in your chest but you manage to remain still. He fiddles with your collar for a moment before stepping back, apparently satisfied with his work. You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding.

“Better?” You ask sardonically.

“Much,” Hannibal remarks. “Shall we?” He holds out an arm and you scoff. Hannibal freezes and you do, too. Shit. You hadn’t meant to scoff aloud. You compensate by putting your hand on his arm and he sends you a smile that is almost… fond. You immediately disregard that notion.

The drive to the opera house is enjoyable. Hannibal is one of the few people that you feel comfortable enough to share silence with. You don’t feel the need to constantly fill the air and, so, you spend most of the ride staring out the window and looking at the trees. Before long, Hannibal is pulling into a parking space and the two of you are ascending the stairs leading to the opera house. The building is rather grand, with beautiful towering pillars and elegant statues decorating the path to the entrance. When you enter, you’re unsurprised to see Hannibal’s mask slide neatly into place.

Evidently, Hannibal has been here before, because he navigates the opera house with practiced ease. There are several people that greet him upon his entrance, and he smiles and sends them a courteous wave. You idly wonder if he truly likes any of these people, or if he merely tolerates them. As you continue to walk in, you’re brutally aware of the gazes searing into your back. You’re sure that Hannibal will be the talk of the town soon enough—you get the feeling he never brings people to these kinds of events. Indeed, he seems the type to want to appreciate art in solitude. You debate asking him once more if he’s okay with being seen with you here. Within a few moments, you’re finally in the area where the performance is scheduled to occur. Hannibal leads you to your seats—which are in one of the balconies—and you can’t suppress your thoughts any longer. Thankfully, it seems no one else has found their seats in your section just yet.

“You realize how this looks, right?” You finally ask. Hannibal sends a curious glance at you and you refuse to acknowledge how handsome he looks right now. You avert your eyes for a moment, instead watching as the people below file into their seats. “Everyone thinks that I’m… you know.” Hannibal continues to stare at you with a blank expression. Damn it, is he really going to make you explain it? You try to push past your embarrassment and remain professional. “I think they’re under the impression that we’re… dating.”

“The thought makes you uncomfortable,” Hannibal states, crossing one leg over the other. That must be why he chose these seats—he probably needs the legroom. The people below are milling about, talking with one another. You’re grateful that these seats are isolated from everyone else—there’s no expectation for you to talk to anyone.

“No, it doesn’t,” you clarify, wondering how he justified that leap in logic. “Besides, if anyone’s reputation is going to be at risk, it’ll be yours.”

“I appreciate your concern,” Hannibal says, something akin to amusement on his face. You’re not sure what he’s finding so amusing—you don’t think your statement was far-fetched or unreasonable. From the moment you walked in, you noticed quite a few people staring at Hannibal and you. They seemed to be making their own conclusions about the two of you; you just wanted to warn him. “I am not worried about my reputation.”

“You think your reputation won’t be affected?” You squint at him, trying to watch for a reaction. “...Or you just don’t care?” Your companion is silent for a moment.

“I was under the impression that I was the psychiatrist here,” Hannibal then remarks lightly. He sends you a look and you feel a momentary inkling of shame.

“Sorry,” you grimace. Hannibal’s lips quirk at the sides—a sign that he isn’t truly upset about your sudden psychoanalysis. You feel the need to justify your reaction regardless. “It’s easy to slip into the criminal profiling mindset sometimes,”

You spend the next several minutes having lighthearted conversation. It’s rather nice. The theater slowly begins to fill up until, finally, the lights dim and someone appears on the stage. To your surprise, the performance is rather enjoyable. You must be rather horrible at hiding your preconceptions, because Hannibal sends you a knowing look after the first song. You pretend not to notice the smugness radiating off the man, and instead focus on the singer. They’re quite talented, unsurprisingly. You’re not quite sure how much the tickets were, but judging from your surroundings, you’d guess they were rather expensive.

You take advantage of the brief intermission in the middle of the program to use the facilities. Once you’re finished, you move to go back into the theatre. However, there’s suddenly a hand grabbing your shoulder and you’re forcefully guided into a deserted hallway. You chance a glance over your shoulder, only to find a far too familiar patient of Dr. Lecter’s: Franklyn Froideveaux.

“Franklyn,” you remark, feeling extremely apprehensive once you recognize him. The man is wearing a three-piece suit again, but this time it’s eerily similar to something Hannibal might wear. You frown at the thought. Franklyn’s obsession with Dr. Lecter is really rather creepy. If Hannibal weren’t such a capable killer, perhaps you’d be worried for him.

“I saw you with Dr. Lecter,” Franklyn states matter-of-factly. He crowds you against the wall and you have to lean back against it to avoid touching him. The look in the man’s eyes is unnerving. It sends a shiver down your spine. There’s nothing in his irises except madness.

“Yes,” you respond, once you realize that Franklyn is awaiting an answer. You don’t tell him that Hannibal invited you, but he seems to come to that conclusion on his own.

“What did he do?” Franklyn asks. “Did he hold the car door open for you? What cologne does he wear? I have a few ideas but I can’t decide between them.” You feel your head begin to ache at his persistent badgering. You’re deeply unsettled by him.

“What’s it like being friends with Dr. Lecter?” He continues. Franklyn doesn’t even give you a chance to respond, as he continues rattling off questions. “Is he a good friend? Do you two spend time together?”

“Um-” You try to say, only for Franklyn to stop mid-tirade. His eyes quickly lock on the suit you’re wearing and you grit your teeth. This is easily one of the most uncomfortable interactions you’ve ever had, and it isn’t even over yet. You flinch as he puts a hand on your shoulder.

“That’s Dr. Lecter’s clothing,” Franklyn remarks, a dangerous gleam in his eyes. His fingers dig into your shoulder and you wince. His grip is beginning to hurt; you think you may have bruises later. “You’re wearing his clothing.”

“No, I’m not,” you try to argue.

“Yes, you are,” Franklyn asserts, not indicating that he’s hearing you or even seeing you. His eyes are glazed and it almost seems as if he’s looking directly through you. “He lent you his clothes. Why? What does he see in you?”

Ouch. That hurts for a microsecond, before you then realize that Franklyn’s opinion bears absolutely no relevance to your life. You want to speak on those thoughts, but there’s a crazed look in the man’s eyes and you decide to stay silent. Franklyn seems to take your silence as an argument itself, though, because his hand tightens on your shoulder rather painfully. You try to shove him off, but the man’s grip is unyielding.

A familiar voice calls your name from further down the hallway. You squint, only to find Hannibal walking towards the two of you. There’s an inexplicable expression on his face, and you can’t even begin to dissect it.

“Hannibal,” you breathe, unable to hide the relief you feel at his presence. Franklyn finally releases his grip on you and you reach a hand up to massage your shoulder. The man’s attention is off of you now, thankfully.

“I presumed you to be lost, but I see that notion is incorrect,” Hannibal says, his gaze flitting about your face as if looking for any sign of distress. He then looks at Franklyn, disinterest and boredom evident in his expression. Of course, Franklyn doesn’t care to notice it. He sees what he wants to see, you think to yourself. “What is going on here? Franklyn?”

Franklyn looks to you expectantly, as if waiting for you to lie for him. You instead remain silent. You know that, right now, telling the truth will unnecessarily escalate the situation. Besides, your exhaustion is starting to catch up with you and you can’t find the energy to continue the conversation.

“We were just having a friendly conversation.” Franklyn answers. Hannibal looks to you for confirmation and you avert your eyes. Meanwhile, Franklyn seems to be falling over himself in an attempt to secure Hannibal’s attention. “Dr. Lecter, it’s so nice to see you here,” Franklyn says, his voice a far cry from the manic lunacy from before. The sudden change is rather dizzying. This man is suffocating to be around. “You know, I thought this might be your kind of place. I was just speaking to your friend here…”

You place a hand on your temple, beginning to get a migraine from the sheer burst of emotions surrounding Franklyn. Your skills in criminal profiling typically allow you to get a sense of other people’s feelings. At worst, you can get a trace of what they feel. Right now, however, you feel every emotion Franklyn is exuding, and it’s enough to make your vision grainy and fuzzy. He continues prattling on, but all you can sense is the horrible flood of obsession, jealousy, and a visceral desire so palpable that it makes you nauseous.

You put a hand to the wall behind you, feeling the need to brace yourself against something. Everything in the background falls to a dull buzzing rhythm—Franklyn’s giddy conversation with Hannibal, the muted sound of the performance that you can hear through the walls. You close your eyes and beg for the torture to stop. Maybe Franklyn will take pity on you and walk away. Maybe Hannibal will lose his patience and walk away, too—you wouldn’t be surprised.

Suddenly, there’s a hand on your forearm. You vaguely register—through swirling vision—Hannibal leading you further down the abandoned hallway until he stops and pushes you into an armchair. Despite the overwhelming emotionality that Franklyn practically assaulted you with, you manage to scrounge up a rather large amount of guilt.

“Sorry,” you choke out to Hannibal. Your breathing is still a bit rough and your clothes feel incredibly constricting. You roll up the sleeves of your jacket—well, Hannibal’s jacket—and try to stammer out the rest of your apology. “Feel free to go back inside; I just need a moment.”

You place a hand over your aching temple and another on the arm of the chair. Selfishly, you think that you could use Hannibal’s support, but you don’t want to occupy his attention when the performance is still happening. You close your eyes and try to pretend that your ears aren’t buzzing. You wait to hear his footsteps as he retreats; you wait to hear an acquiescence. A few seconds pass. Instead, there’s a hand on your shoulder.

“Dr. Lecter,” you choke out, your eyes beginning to burn. You wipe at them furiously, despite knowing that the effort is futile. “Go back inside.”

“No,” Hannibal says. You can’t see the expression on his face through your blurred vision—you just pray that it isn’t annoyance or irritation.

“I’ll be fine,” you maintain through gritted teeth. You think you hear Hannibal sigh at that, but it could easily be your imagination. The man looks down at you before pressing a cool hand to your forehead. Despite knowing that he’ll withdraw his hand in a few moments, you can’t help but lean into the touch.

“I’m sure,” Hannibal remarks, pulling you up to your feet and steadying you as your balance wavers. He places your hand on his arm and the two of you walk back in the direction you came. To your surprise, when you reach the door to the theater, Hannibal pivots and leads you towards the exit. You shake your head in disbelief as humiliation, shame, and guilt battle for prominence in your chest. Before long, Hannibal has led the two of you into his car. The moment you’re in his car, you bury your head in your hands.

Everything in your vision feels harsher and sharper. You begin to dig your nails into your palms unconsciously, hoping for some means to establish yourself in reality. You don’t realize you’re doing it until Hannibal reaches out and pries your hands apart. Your hands are trembling ever so slightly and you ball them into fists.

You’re not sure how much time you spend trying to regain your composure in the passenger seat of Hannibal’s car. Dignity is a foreign concept. You’re sure the embarrassment will catch up to you later—perhaps when you’re home and have some time to think.

At some point, Hannibal begins driving. Thankfully, the roads aren’t bumpy and the ride is rather smooth. He’s entirely silent and you feel the beginnings of remorse prickling along your skin. Hannibal never asked you to explain your interaction with Franklyn, but you feel that he deserves to know what happened.

“You realize Franklyn’s in love with you, right?” You blurt out, before quickly turning your head to look out the window and avoid Hannibal’s gaze. Truthfully, you had hoped to lead into that a little bit more. Somehow, that statement was what came from your lips.

“Yes.” Hannibal responds, his eyes still locked on the road. You take the afforded opportunity to look at him, confident in the notion that you aren’t being observed right back. Hannibal seems… entirely unruffled. Then again, he always looks unbothered. You wonder if you’ll ever be able to notice when something bothers him.

“He asked me what cologne you wear,” you decide to start with. You describe how you had tried to make your way back to the theater, only to be stopped by Hannibal’s patient and led off into a secluded hallway. “Franklyn knew that I was wearing your clothes; he also wanted to know what it’s like to be friends with you.”

“What did you say?” Hannibal asks, his attention still focused on the road.

“Nothing; he didn’t let me get a word in edgewise,” you admit. You run a finger along the smooth fabric of your shirt sleeve. Unbeknownst to you, the sleeve had started to roll up on its own; you take a moment to fix that before continuing to speak. “He’s so… suffocating.”

“It seemed his presence was harming you,” Hannibal remarks bluntly. You nod in agreement. At first, the interaction was merely uncomfortable. However, once Hannibal appeared, Franklyn’s emotions hit you with full force.

“I could feel everything,” you break off for a moment. “The love, the obsession, the jealousy, the envy… It was overwhelming. That man is the darkest person I’ve ever met.”

“He isn’t a killer,” Hannibal points out. That’s true—you’ve seen your fair share of killers, with minds so dark that you couldn’t hope to find an escape. Even so, those criminals were… straightforward. Franklyn, on the other hand, is a paradox.

“I know,” you acknowledge. “Franklyn is extremely neurotic, though—arguably the worst I’ve ever seen. It’s stifling. He has debilitating control issues and a crippling urge to prove himself. He’s often a victim of his own envy and jealousy. His self-concept is… I can’t even begin to describe it.” Yet, there’s a thinly-veiled hunger in Hannibal’s eyes—he wants to hear what you have to say. You inhale slowly. Again, you feel as if you owe him for absolutely ruining his night. Besides, you’re sure that he already knows all this information anyway. Franklyn is his patient, after all.

“Franklyn is sort of… a shapeshifter, for lack of a better term. He’ll adjust and change himself to fit the situation best. When he’s in love, he’s dangerously obsessed. His unconventional actions are reassuring to him, though, because they give him a modicum of control—a control that he cannot possess over anything else.” You have a lot more that you could divulge on the matter, but you decide to stop there. Again, you’re convinced that Hannibal already knows all of that.

“I see why you’re Jack’s best profiler,” Hannibal says, finally looking away from the road to look at you. His eyes are glittering in the darkness. You roll your eyes at the unnecessary compliment, too tired to start an argument. To your surprise, when you look out the window, you realize that he’s driving down your street. That car ride had passed rather fast and within a few seconds, Hannibal is pulling into your driveway.

“We’re here,” you announce unnecessarily, grabbing the door handle and stepping out of the vehicle. To your surprise, Hannibal also gets out of the car. You squint at him in confusion, but he doesn’t seem to notice. You’re not quite sure what he’s playing at, but you’re too exhausted to figure it out. Instead of inquiring about his sudden interest in following you inside, you simply allow him to do so before closing the door behind him.

“Do you want your clothes back now?” You ask, unable to come up with any other explanation for his presence in your home. It’s not that you mind his intrusion—not at all, actually—but you’d feel more comfortable for a legitimate reason for his presence.

“If that’s acceptable,” Hannibal answers, breaking you out of your thoughts. His eyes are fixed on something on one of your bookshelves. You shake your head at his strange fascination with your living room decorations.

“Sure, I’ll go change; mind waiting here?” He assures you that he doesn’t mind waiting. You shut the door behind you in the bathroom and stare at yourself in the mirror for a moment. There are dark circles under your eyes and you look a little frazzled. Otherwise, you don’t look bad. Amazingly, you managed not to ruin Hannibal’s clothing—a feat you’re rather proud of yourself for. You settle for changing into a simple long-sleeved shirt and sweatpants. As you change, you neatly fold Hannibal’s clothing into a pile. Once you’re done, you glance at your reflection one more time. You take a half-step backwards but, before you move to leave, your eyes catch on something below your collar. You squint and lean closer to the mirror, convinced that you’re seeing things. Somehow, though, you’re not. After a moment’s hesitation, you pull your shirt collar to the side, only to find harsh marks on your collarbone and shoulder. They’re almost in the shape of a handprint and it doesn’t take much detective work to realize who they’re from—Franklyn.

That realization is not very welcome, and you decide not to think about it right now. Remembering that Hannibal is waiting on you, you grab the folded pile of clothes and walk back out to the living room. Unsurprisingly, Hannibal is looking around with a scrutinizing gaze. You walk up to him and hold out the clothes, but his back is turned. You eventually just decide to place them on the entryway table—he’ll have to see them on the way out.

“Thank you for inviting me, it was very fun,” you smile. Hannibal turns around, seemingly just noticing your presence. Just what is he looking for in your humble living room? He certainly won’t find anything of value. Furthermore, your decoration skills are nowhere near his. You can’t find a reasonable explanation for his behavior and, eventually, you have to give up on trying to rationalize it.

“I’m glad you found the night enjoyable,” he answers diplomatically. You raise an eyebrow at the stiff response. Perhaps your little… episode… had annoyed him more than you initially thought. Another apology certainly wouldn’t hurt.

“I hope I didn’t ruin your experience too much,” you wince, sheepishly shoving your hands in your pockets. Hannibal shakes his head, before taking a step closer to you.

“On the contrary, I found the performance more enjoyable with your company,” he asserts. Hannibal still looks as handsome as he did when he first appeared on your doorstep this evening—not a hair out of place. You swallow hard, before roughly shoving the thought aside—now is not the time. “I apologize for Franklyn.” Your eyebrows furrow. Why is he apologizing?

“You can’t control his actions,” you say, waving his concern off. “No harm done.” At that, Hannibal’s expression darkens. He takes another step closer, until the two of you are standing face to face. For a while, there is nothing but tense, uncomfortable silence.

“I disagree,” Hannibal says darkly, his hand resting lightly on your collarbone. Before you can protest, he’s gently pushing away the collar of your shirt to look at your shoulder. He frowns and you realize that he’s looking at the marks Franklyn left behind. If you had thought his prior expression to be dark, the look on his face now is nothing short of murderous. You feel your breath stalling in your chest, as you ground yourself in the realization that you’re standing in front of a killer with absolutely nothing to protect you. Hannibal moves to cup your cheek with a tenderness you thought him to be incapable of. His touch makes your skin feel licked with flames. Each breath you take feels labored and harsh. You swear you see Hannibal’s gaze fall to your lips for a brief moment, but you put it down to your imagination. It’s kind of late and you’re tired—you’re probably just seeing things. For a long moment, neither of you move or speak.

“Good night,” Hannibal says, a strangely determined expression on his face. His gaze keeps moving to your collarbone and you idly wish you had concealed the marks better. His hand falls from your face and he stares at you for a long moment, as if regretting your parting. You make sure to remind him of the pile of folded clothes, which he takes into his arms before turning around to leave.

“Good night, Hannibal,” you respond, opening the door for him. You watch as he enters his car and drives away. Despite the knowledge that he’s already out of sight, you feel the urge to wait a few more minutes before looking away. Finally, you close the front door and fall back against it, your mind reeling.

chapter six

#defectivevillain #Hannibal Lecter x reader #Hannibal Lecter x male reader #hannibal x reader #hannibal x male reader #hannibal x gn reader #Hannibal Lecter x gn reader #hannibal lecter #hannibal nbc

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moony-ghoul · 9 months

Note

Gibve blankie Dew thoughts

Plez? 🥺

YEAH YEAH YEAH BLANKIE DEW

it all started with dew collapsing into rains bed one night. he was exhausted, stressed out of his mind preparing for tour and the anxiety that comes with performing every night. despite how many rehearsals they do our shows they perform getting actually on stage is a big mental game for dew

and tonight he was too tired to keep playing

so naturally he treated himself to an unholy amount of mounts stash and crept in to spend the night cuddled up with his favourite water ghoul

rain doesn’t hear him enter, sitting on the edge of his bed, back facing the door and changing the strings on his bass. dews arms snake their way around his waist

“hello there” rain smiles down at the fire ghoul nuzzling his thigh. dew reeks of weed, making rain slightly annoyed he didn’t offer to share any

“let me finish up with this and we can cuddle okay?”

dew whines dramatically, throwing himself into the pile of plushies on rains bed

“you don’t love meeeee” he cries, throwing himself around like a kit throwing a tantrum

rain rolls his eyes, hiding his smile “i’ll only be a second, gotta have this ready for rehearsal tomorrow”

dew mumbles something rain doesn’t quite get, shoving his face into a dragon plushie. rain tries to go back to his instrument but is interrupted by dew poking him in the side with his toe

“could not go” he mumbles again, nuzzling into the plushie

rain turns to look at the fire ghoul, his face is obscured by the dragon but his shoulders are tense

“you know we can’t, dew.” rain sighs, rubbing dews calf softly “we leave in a week and phantom still needs help, we have to-“

“I KNOOOOWWW” dew whines again, throwing the dragon plushie at rain with very little force considering his hazey state. “…i’m sorry” dew says almost immediately after, voice soft again, “… can i- can.. you please uh give him back”

rain places his bass on the floor, he can finish it in the morning right now his ghoul needs him. he picks up the dragon and gives it back to dew before wrapping his lanky arms around him, trying his best to shield dew and his new friend from the world

they lay like that for a while, dew hugging the dragon close to him and rain holding him close to his chest. dew starts to purr softly

“so” rain starts, “do you wanna talk about it?”

dew rubs the soft dragon against his face again, “s nice”

“sorry?”

“dragon” dew states like its obvious “nice texture”

rain doesn’t end up getting his answer, but he knows dew well enough to figure it out in his own, even if dew is insistent on jumping around the topic of his stage anxiety

he wants to help, he hates seeing his ghoul hurt, but he’s truely at a loss. the next few days pass and dew only gets more stressed and more tense, the only time when rain gets a glimmer of his dew again is late at night when he stumbles into rains room stoned and picks up that same dragon plush

dew let’s put chirps and purrs as he runs his hands along the fluff of the toy. he sleeps with the dragon sandwiched between his face and rains chest. rain has no idea how he breathes at night like that, but if it makes dew happy he doesn’t think too strongly on it

their last night in the abbey comes around quicker than any of the ghouls wish. dew has been on edge all day, brows stuck in a furrow and lip trapped between his teeth. he doesn’t even smoke that night, he stands in rains doorway stone cold sober

dews eyes dart over the bed quickly, anxiously

“where is he?”

without context rain would have assumed dew was talking about an actual living, breathing kit

rain grins cheekily at dew. “i have a present for you”

“where is he?” dew asks completely ignoring rain

“you reminded me of something,” rain ignores him back, picking up the box hidden under his bed and handing it to dew. “it came with it when i first brought it, but i didn’t like the texture as much as you seem to”

dew looks between rain and the box, trying to figure out the catch. a cautious hand slowly removes the lid, he’s met with the dragon and a plush baby blanket, seemingly made of the same material

rain can’t read the emotion that flashes across dews face, he meets rains eye, the anxiety still sits there

dew takes a shakey breathe before speaking

“i don’t need-“

“do you want it?” rain stops him, “you can take them on tour if you want, they’ll fit in your backpack i already checked”

dews hands shake when he finally picks up his new gifts, he holds them to his face and takes a deep breath in

when he exhales he grins at rain, his adorable crooked fang grin. rain watches as the anxiety melts out of his ghoul finally

“they smell like you”

#BLANKIE DEW BLANKIE DEW BLANKIE DEW #shitty ghoul ficlets #i’m so tired i’m not editing this #blankie dew is so important to me you don’t even get it

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ethereal-engene · 1 year

Text

Drunken Confessions

pairing: dance-instructor!Hoshi x gn!reader

genre: fluff, slice-of-life, non-idol!AU, and friends to lovers // warnings: mentions of drinking, food, cursing, and not proof-read

summary: When a night out drinking with Soonyoung gives him enough liquid courage to confess his true feelings to you // word count: ~2.3k

note: I’m sure that this has been written about but I can’t stop thinking about it so enjoy :)

“Come on, yn-nie, you’ve got to come with us to drink tonight!! It’ll be so fun and I promise you’ll have a good time.“ Hoshi whined to you and was giving you his best puppy eyes. Argh, how can you say no to that?

You’re not much of a drinker but you definitely enjoy drinking from time to time. “Fine, fine. I’ll come with you but I hope you don’t intend on drinking so much, you always get so drunk and then I have to take care of you.” Replying with this, he jumps up and down.

Once you had to stop Hoshi from roaring at people. You can’t not give into him and his spreading the tiger agenda. Have you seen him when he does it? It’s adorable but funny. Very on brand for him to do that.

You met Soonyoung while dropping off your younger brother at dance practice. Turns out that your brother’s dance instructor is pretty cute, funny, kind, and so many other adjectives. Over the course of months, a friendship was built. Sometimes after the practice had ended, you’d spend time talking about trivial things like how your day was going to share stories. It would drag on for so long that your brother would poke you or whisper in your ear that it’s getting late and he wants to go home.

He was too shy to say it out loud. Taking a look at the time, you pat his head and get up. “Wahhh, I didn’t even notice the time! It’s getting dark and we’ve gotta go. I’ll talk to you next time!” Waving goodbye and walking away with your brother. Right before you two are out of his sight, he runs out to yell “Get home safely and see you tomorrow!”

Your little brother laughs and screams back “Thank you!!” Waving him goodbye again, your heart melts. How could one be so cute? When you’re buckling him into a car seat, he looks up at you with an ever so slightly mischievous grin. “What’s that face for?”

“Y/n, do you like Hoshi?” Your face starts to heat up. “Maybe, why and who told you that?” You start to tickle him before he gets a chance to answer. “N.. no-one! Stop tickling me!! I hope you know he likes you too.” He manages to say in between laughs.

“Hmm, what makes you think that?” Tilting your head at him while raising your eyebrows. “He talks about you sometimes and asks me how you are.” You can’t help but laugh nervously as you get into the driver's seat. “Well that’s interesting, I thought he was just being friendly.”

“Y/n, not to be mean but he makes nasty goo-goo eyes at you whenever you come.” You take a glance in the mirror to see your brother’s face. He’s making a fake throw up noise accompanied with a gross face. “Yah, don’t be mean!”

On the drive home, you think about it and your heart grows fonder of the thought of him and you becoming something more. It’d be cute and fun to date him. It’ll only be a matter of time until one of you confesses. You can count on it because as much as you’re growing to like him, you’ve learned that he can’t keep things inside too well.

He spilled the details on when his next performance would be and when your little brother’s performance was going to be. Mind you, he was of course not supposed to tell anyone as it’s supposed to be a surprise. Yet, the moment you walked into the practice room, it was the first thing he told you.

Yet another on brand thing for him to do. You laugh when he tells you because the next thing you know, your little brother is play hitting him for not keeping it a secret like he told the class to do. “Oh yeah… I’m not supposed to say anything. Oops?” Scratching his head with a small smile being worn on his face. “Anywayssssss, y/n! How was your day and have you eaten yet?”

And just like that, the whole spilling the secret thing is over. You swear one day, it’ll be the reason for his downfall. Until then, you’ll have to be careful not to let the cat out of the bag around people who aren’t supposed to know about it.

Anyhow, back to the main story. As you got ready for the night out with Soonyoung and the rest of his friend group, you were sure to let him know that you were almost done. He wanted to pick you up and everything. Thank god him for that because you were tired of driving places all the time.

You joke that you should have a permanent passenger card or something. When he texts you that he’s here, you kiss your little brother goodnight and take your leave. It’s a bit chilly outside, but you hadn’t anticipated it being that much colder than before.

Hoshi opens the doors for you and hands you his extra jacket. He likes to have an extra jacket in case he ever needs an extra layer or if someone needs it. In any case, he’s very glad that he double checked to see if there was one in his car already. “Let me know if you’re still feeling cold, I’ll give you my jacket!”

Your eyes widen upon hearing that and your heart beats a little louder than before. “No, no it’s okay! This one is making me feel warm enough, thank you again. Now come on, let’s go get our party on!!”

He chuckles at your excitement and drives off. The music playing is from a combined playlist that way y’all don’t get bored of listening to the same songs or artists. Every once in a while, he’ll come across a song he really likes from your choices and is already conjuring up another idea to teach for his next lesson.

As you guys arrive, he opens the door for you again and leads the way. You greet everyone and catch up with them. It’ll always be sweet but strange how they all came to be friends. Before Hoshi can ever get a drink, you make him give you his keys. Someone has to be the designated driver between the two of you.

He hands them to you and rushes to get a drink. It’ll never fail to amaze you how quickly he can get drunk. As you’re talking to Woozi about your job and his music, Soonyoung hands you a mocktail. Taking a sip and it’s actually pretty good. You thank him and continue with your conversation.

You don’t see the way he looks at you as he’s behind you but Woozi notices it. Soonyoung looks at you like you’re the only one in the room, despite being in a club full of people. Jihoon can’t help but smirk. Thinking to himself that his best friend better confess soon or else he’s going to spend the rest of his life regretting it.

As the night flies by, you occasionally join Hoshi on the dance floor as he tears up the stage as he would sober. The cheers from the crowd go wild and it fuels him even more. He could be so drunk but still manage to pull a couple of dance moves to make the people there hyped. You wonder if he’s even a real human because what type of human is he??

When you’re not dancing with him and he finds you alone, he’ll drag you onto the dance floor. Just because you’re sober and designated driver doesn’t mean you can’t have fun. Plus he feels bad if he brought you here and you didn’t enjoy it. So he makes the most of it, even if it mean’s embarrassing himself. It makes you laugh uncontrollably as he busts out some ridiculous dance moves.

He pauses while you laugh, and wants to remember these moments — moments where he’s the one behind your laughter and smile. He’s told himself that the next time you come by, he’s gonna tell you that he likes you and wants to go out. But he gets caught up in talking to you about the day, so much that the thought of telling you slips through his fingers.

To make sure that he’s not all shit-faced, it’s your turn to drag him away somewhere. Getting some water, you sit him down & hand him the water to drink. He refuses a couple of times, insisting that what he really needs is more alcohol. “No, no. Soonyoung, listen to me. You need water first!” He pouts at your command but eventually drinks some water. Once you’re satisfied, you let him go.

~ Small time-skip ~

It’s now almost midnight and that means you have to leave or else you won’t be able to wake up on time for work. You search for Soonyoung and work your magic to get him in the car to drive to his place.

As expected, he’s on the dance floor and whines against going home. There’s nothing left to do than forcefully drag him out of the club. Before that, you bid everyone goodnight, send them messages that you hope they get home safely, and pay the tab.

“Hoshi, come on. You can walk, your legs are working. I know they are because you were just dancing just fine minutes ago. Now the faster we get to the car, you can sleep it off.”

His weight slowly shifts off your shoulder but he leans his head on your shoulder. Unfortunately Soonyoung walks slowly while drunk and you’re carefully walking so his head doesn’t fall on the ground.

Y’all are walking in silence until sniffles come out of him. There’s no way you could continue to walk. So you stop and take a good look at him. His eyes are glimmering with water filling his eyes. “What’s wrong?? Do you need water, a hug, or something?” These are some of the questions that spill out of your mouth.

“Nothings wrong, y/n. I’m just really glad to know you and thank you for always taking care of me. You make me really happy and I’ve liked you for a while now but I’ve been too scared to tell you. I want the world to know that I want to be your boyfriend, but only if you want me too.” He says that all in one breath. Tears start to fall and he beats you by saying something first. “God, you make me so happy and if you give me the chance to be yours, you won’t regret it.” He starts to cry into your shoulder and in an attempt to make it stop, you can rub his back & bring him into a hug.

Out of all the ways, you expected a confession; you couldn’t have expected a drunken one. “You’re just saying that because you’re drunk. If you really like me, tell me when you’re sober.”

You smile and help him get into the passenger’s seat. He sleeps all the way there and wakes up just in time before you park. With a little bit of your help, y’all make it his apartment. From there, you set him down on the couch and crash on his bed.

The next morning, you wake up before him and decide to make him some breakfast along with preparing a hangover cure. God knows that he needs one. He wakes up to the sound of sizzling and struggles to actually get up. Especially with his head pounding and he can’t remember what the fuck happened last night.

Seeing that he’s awake, you bring him over the drink and breakfast. With a quick thank you, he dives right in eating it. All he can remember from last night is dancing and a small clip of being hugged by you. He hopes that he didn’t do anything embarrassing again or accidentally say something stupid.

Being the guy he is, he’s going to ask because knowing himself he definitely did something. “Hey y/n, just curious. Did I by chance do anything last night for you to hug me?”

It stops you in the tracks and question if you should tell him or not. Honestly you lose nothing if you tell him so you tell him. “Uhm yeahhhh, you kind of confessed but I responded with if you really like me, tell me when you’re sober.”

After admitting it, you quickly walk away to do something. But in the back, you hear Hoshi spitting out his drink. Probably because he wasn’t expecting that and not even a minute passes by, and he rushes so quickly to stop you.

Smoothly wrapping his hand around your waist and using his other hand to bring your face so that you look at him.

“Y/n, I like you so much and I swear I’m sober and that even when I was drunk, I meant every word. It would make me so happy if you let me be yours and you be mine! I hope you know that I’ll try my hardest to not let you down and make sure you don’t regret saying yes to me. But also no pressure to give me answer right now, I don’t even know if you like me back and thanks-“

You place your index finger to shut him up. “Can I kiss you?” You ask him and he nods with stars in his eyes. And so you lean forward to give him a kiss. “Soonyoung, I like you too and gosh you’re so incredibly adorable. It would make me very happy too if you’d be mine. I will also try my hardest to not let you down either.”

Who knew dealing with a drunk Hoshi one night would turn into this?

Thank you so much for reading! LMAO honestly speaking I didn’t mean for this to be this long but I guess I got carried away.

I hope you enjoyed this and if you did please reblog it with your feedback (in the tags on your reblog), send an ask, or leave a note!

Take care & signing off with love,

- ash

#caratwritersclub #kflixnet #underworldnet #seventeen x reader #SVT x reader #svt #seventeen #hoshi x you #hoshi x reader #Soonyoung x reader #seventeen imagine #seventeen fluff #seventeen scenarios #seventeen x y/n #seventeen x gender neutral reader

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n0connections · 1 year

Text

Steve is tired. He is so fucking tired. How the hell had he let Tommy H talk him into throwing a small get together to celebrate graduating is beyond him. They weren’t even friends anymore. But the truth was, Steve didn’t want to spend the night alone in his big empty house. His parents couldn’t bother coming home for the ceremony, he was single, and his only real friend was a curly-haired child that was busy playing D&D with other children. So against his better judgment he let Tommy use his house for a party.

It was loud, out of control, and reminded Steve that the last time he was at a party like this, he got his heart broken. All in all, not a great way to spend a couple of hours and he was starting to regret agreeing to this party in the first place. When the cops finally came to shut things down, he was relieved. He would deal with the mess and the inevitable we are very disappointed in you Stephen phone call tomorrow. He just wanted to go to bed. The only problem was, someone was already in it.

“Seriously!?! I’ve got four bedrooms in this house and you had to choose mine to hook up in? Whatever, I don’t care, just wash the sheets whenever you and whatever girl you have hiding in the closet are done. I’ll sleep on the couch.”

The guy - Eddie Munson Steve thinks, laughs without humor. “Yeah there is definitely not a girl hiding in the closet up here. Your asshole friends did this to me. Right after they stole my supply.”

“Holy shit! Are you okay dude? Why didn’t you call for help?” Steve looks back and forth around the room as if a key will just magically appear out of thin air.

“I’m fine, King Steve, just stuck. Stuck in high school and stuck in your painfully boring …bedroom? Shit I could have sworn this was a guest room. To answer your other question the music was too loud and when the cops came to break things up - well, let’s just say I didn’t want to save them the trouble of cuffing me.”

Steve snorts as he settles on the bed with a safety pin and tries to fiddle with the lock. “Yeah I guess that wouldn’t have ended well. I’m sorry. Though I have to admit, it’s a little comforting to know someone is having a worse night than me. They aren’t mine by the way.” Steve says.

“The cuffs? Yeah, I'm pretty sure they belong to that punk Andy. Who is NEVER getting weed from me again. Not that these are even a real set. I think if you just push the safety pin in all the way and shake it back and forth aggressively these will pop open.”

Steve tilts his head in consideration then gives it a shot. “No. I meant, they aren’t my friends.”

“Bold statement, considering apart from Andy you don’t know who else did this.”

“Yeah well, unless you got cornered by a thirteen-year-old without collarbones, I can safely say I wasn’t friends with whoever did this.”

Eddie looks puzzled for a minute before continuing, “Aww come on Stevie, I’m sure you have lots of friends. Look how many people were here tonight.”

This time it’s Steve who laughs without humor. “Yeah they’re my friends all right. You’re also here. Does that make us friends Munson?”

“Well your surprisingly less annoying than l thought you'd would be.” Eddie smiles. Just as the handcuffs spring open.

Steve cheers “sweet” and Eddie rubs his wrists. Then he reaches into his back pocket and pulls out a joint.

Steve smiles, “I thought they stole your supply.”

“Not what I had in my pockets.” He passes it to Steve who raises an eyebrow. “Consider it a graduation gift, friend.” Eddie walks to the door and turns back before walking through the doorway. “Good night, Steve.”

End Notes:

Props to @steddiealltheway who wrote a wonderful Eddie meets Steve handcuffed to his bed tumblr post ~ turned fic. This got my friends talking that Steddie fics should make meeting handcuffed to a bed a trope. This is my contribution from towards that.

#stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #ficlet #pre steddie #hurt/comfort #I see your #there was only one bed #and raise you #they meet handcuffed to a bed #NCfics

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selenitesdawn · 2 years

Text

Arcade Rivals (pt.2)

first part here

pairing : max mayfield x reader

warnings : curse words, and it’s quiet long

summary : two very competitive arcade players get their game on.

notes : this was a request <3

third person pov

Seems like I get another clue. This time I want a real clue. Tell me what class you’re in. Or what you look like. Otherwise I will beat your score on every single machine in this arcade. - MAD max

———————

“A person you always walk past in school?”, El asked her best friend on the phone.

“Apparently so. At least that’s what the note said. It wasn’t very helpful. Like.. at all.”, Max huffed annoyed, tipping her index finger repeatedly against the wall.

“Why don’t you just start looking at everyone you walk past then?”, El replied blatantly.

“That’s not gonna help El. They didn’t tell me what they look like. I have a higher chance of finding the person by recognizing the handwriting.”, Max stated, sitting down against the wall.

She once again grabbed the note that laid next to her, trying to find any other clues. The paper was wrinkled by now, some of the letters already fading. There wasn’t anything on the paper besides the note, no matter how many times Max checked. The letters didn’t form any type of secret message. It was just a plain and simple text. Max got up and pinned the note on her pinboard since she didn’t want it to get any more ruined. After that she sat back down on the floor.

“But you won at Pac Man right? So there will be another clue tomorrow.”, El tried to cheer Max up.

“Yes I know. I’m just really impatient. I want to know who it is soo badly.”, Max whined.

The redhead twirled the telephone cord around her fingers while starring at the ceiling. Talking to El was a great feeling. Max had missed her best friend like crazy since she moved away. Still they didn’t talk much lately. Today was actually the first time in a while that Max had called El back. She was just so lost in her thoughts about the stranger for the past days, that she needed someone to talk with.

The mysterious person went to the same school as her. That was foreseeable. But she still had no idea who it could be. Do they have classes together? Did she ever talk to them? Max’s train of thought was interrupted by her best friend.

“Do you like them?”, El asked curiously.

Max’s eyes widened at the question. How could she ever like someone whom she didn’t even know. ‘That’s impossible, right?’ Her eyes went back to the note on her wall. Now that she thought about it, she did get a funny feeling inside whenever she thought about them.

‘But that’s just because it’s another mystery. It’s an exciting feeling to have a worthy opponent. And they are funny. And their notes are cute. They also have an adorable handwriting. And even that stupid name is kind of cute. And the fact that they sent an employee to me is so stupidly adorable. They are probably beautiful too and attentive and supportive and romantic-‘

“Fuck. Maybe I do like them.”, Max breathed out.

El smiled at the other end of the line. Her best friend actually got soft for someone. She couldn’t help herself but tease Max about it, who quickly shut her off.

“Okay stop El, I shouldn’t like them. That’s so stupid. They probably don’t even spend time thinking about me at all, they just want to beat me.”, Max answered in a sad tone.

“They like you Max. I am sure of it. How could one not like you?”, El said smiling.

Max smiled to herself, happy about El’s words. After all she was still there for Max. Nothing changed about their special bond, which made Max regain a lot of strength and security. They kept talking on the phone until it got late.

“Thanks El. It was nice talking to you. Sorry for not… being here.”, Max quietly admitted.

“It’s okay Max. I’m happy you called. And I’ll always be here if you need me. I promise.”, El answered in a soft tone.

The next day after school, Max made her way to the arcade once again. As she entered, Derek greeted her and waved her over. Max was confused at first but walked towards him anyways.

“There are multiple letters for you Mad Max. One was at Pac Man, one at Dig Dug, one at Donkey Kong and another one at Defender. It was a pain in the ass to keep other people from opening them. So I collected them instead.”, he said as he handed over the letters.

“Thanks Derek.”, was the only thing she said before she left with the letters.

Her tummy was filled with butterflies, a feeling of excitement rising in her chest. The letters were beautifully sealed with wax and a stamp, dried flowers stuck between the wax and the paper. Each one had “MADMAX” written on it with a red pen. It ultimately looked like a lot of work.

‘What an idiot.’, she thought to herself while grinning, opening the letters carefully. Usually Max was the type of person who just ripped letters open. But this time she wanted not a single one to go to waste.

Hey my favorite Max. I hope you are well. Your Pac Man score has been outdone.

Max smiled to herself. She knew this person would be able to beat her. After all they were one of the best players she had ever played against. And the only one who even came close to her abilities.

It was odd, but Max Mayfield was actually happy about someone defeating her. She even felt kind of proud.

Since you threatened to trump all of my scores, I decided to beat your Dig Dug score. I hope that’s cool with you.

As she read the second letter her eyes grew wide. She walked over to the Dig Dug machine and checked for the high score. Sane Max was telling the truth. They somehow beat the score. Worriedly that she didn’t get a clue yet, she opened the third letter.

Here is your clue. I just recently moved to Hawkins. To be precise, I moved here 5 months ago. We go to the same school but don’t share any classes.

Max squeezed her eyes together. The clue wasn’t bad, but it wasn’t good either. She didn’t know anyone who had moved here recently. And there was no way to find out, unless she asked every single student she didn’t know.

Last but not least. I have an offer. Break every single high score I set and I’ll meet you after school at 12:10 at the stone bench in front of the main complex. “Sounds good?” - (first letter of y/n)

That was Max’s chance. Her chance to not only find out who that person was, but to meet and talk to them. It was exciting but for some reason scary at the same time. Max’s mind got flooded with doubts. What if the person she created in her mind was a creep in real life? What if they met and things would be weird? What if they don’t even like Max in person?

As she took one last look at the messages, all her doubts washed away. From the color of the inscription to the dried flowers sealed underneath the wax. It wasn’t just a ripped out paper from a notebook. These were beautiful, mindful letters. Max sighed silently. She doesn’t remember the last time someone has done something as thoughtful and adorable as this for her.

“But I hate Defender.”, the redhead mumbled annoyed.

She put the letters in her backpack and put it next to the Dig Dug machine. After cracking her knuckles and neck for a good minute, she started playing the game. Max was determined to win, but at the same time it felt almost impossible to do so. Still she had the goal of meeting the mysterious person, which was at the back of her mind the entire time.

After literal hours Max stood in front of the Defender machine. Her head hurt by now, her hands were sore from all the gaming. She broke every score. From Dig Dug, to Pac Man to Donkey Kong. But Defender just didn’t seem to work for her. She’s been in front of that machine for two hours now. But no matter how much she tried, she just couldn’t do it.

As she was getting more and more frustrated, she sat down on a chair at the back of the arcade and put her head in her hands. Until now it was all fun and games. But the pressure of beating all the scores and the strong desire to meet the person behind all of this just got tiring.

“Hey Mad Max. You alright?”, a familiar voice asked in front of her.

Max looked up and rolled her eyes.

“Obviously it’s not Derek. I just can’t seem to break that stupid score at Defender. I hate hate hate this stupid game.”, she replied annoyed, sinking into the chair.

Derek sat himself on a chair next to Max.

“Hmm, did the letters say you have to break the Defender score today? Or why are you trying so hard?”, he asked worriedly.

Max stayed quiet. Strictly speaking, the letters gave no time limit. So she could still try to beat the score tomorrow. Her headache made it hard for her to focus at all, she wouldn’t be able to win today anyways.

“Look. My shift is over now. It’s already 8pm. You’ve been here since six hours Max. I think you should just try tomorrow.”, he said as he got up from his chair.

It felt like giving up somehow. It felt like losing. And that feeling of losing was unfamiliar to Max. At least when it came to the arcade. She lost a lot in the past because she didn’t try hard enough. And she would still blame herself for it every single day. Somehow that feeling transferred to this entire competition but now Max had to step back for a moment.

“I’m sure Sane Max wouldn’t want that. You reached your capacity for today, and that’s alright. They would understand.”, Derek tried to cheer her up.

Max looked up to him and tried to give him a small smile. She got up right after and threw her backpack over her shoulder.

“You’re right. I’ll just try tomorrow.”, she decided.

She left the arcade unsatisfied, but she knew that doing anything else right now would be just crazy. Spending six hours in front of a screen wasn’t exactly the healthiest thing to do.

Her way home cleared her mind again, the wind and fresh air easing her headache. When she got home she laid in bed and read through the letters again. Her heart fluttered with every word, her smile never leaving her lips. She called El again that night, telling her about everything that had happened.

The next day Max sat in front of school, on the stone bench, at 12:10. She knew that she didn’t meet the requirements for the meeting, but she still liked to think that her greatest enemy and greatest crush might have sat just where she was sitting right now.

A fresh breeze hit her face again, just in the same way it did the first day she got to know SANEMAX. Smiling to herself, Max understood that whatever happens with that person know, they helped Max overcome weeks of depression, sadness and anxiety. It was a true miracle. Especially after everything that had happened.

After lingering in this moment just a little longer, Max got up to make her way to the arcade again. She had a good feeling about today. Maybe she would even manage to beat the Defender score. But just as she grabbed her skateboard and turned around, she bumped into someone.

“Oh my god I’m so sorry.”, she apologized repeatedly.

The person in front of her dropped all of their things due to the collision, leaving the entire ground scattered with books and notebooks. Max wasted no time crouching down, collecting everything.

“No worries. It’s fine.”, the person above her reassured her while smiling.

As Max piled up all the stuff, she got up again. This time she looked at the person in front of her for the first time. They smiled at her, their face relaxed, showing no sign of anger. ‘Wow. They are…beautiful’, Max thought to herself. She started blushing a little, getting more nervous by the minute.

“Uhm, I’m… Max. I mean, I’m sorry! For bumping into you.”, Max stammered nervously.

“I know. Both things.”, the other person replied softly.

Max furrowed her eyebrows. She didn’t remember meeting that person ever before. So how did they know her name?

Just then she noticed that she still had the person’s things in her hands. As she was about to hand them over, she took a quick glance at the notebook on top of the pile.

“No way.”, she mumbled quietly, just loud enough for the person in front of her to hear.

It was the same handwriting. The handwriting she had memorized for hours and hours. The handwriting which made her smile, her heart flutter, her days better and her nights calmer.

“My name is y/n, by the way.”

Max looked up and started blushing uncontrollably. Whatever she had imagined until then, whatever person she had created inside her mind, y/n just exceeded all of her expectations. Their eyes sparkled like none she had ever seen before. Their face was soft, giving Max a feeling of safety. Although she was nervous, she felt comfortable. It was magical. Y/n’s soft lips formed a contagious smile, making Max smile right back.

“Nice to meet you y/n.”, Max said as she handed y/n their stuff back. “But I-….”

“Didn’t beat my Defender score? I know.”, y/n replied smiling.

Max tilted her head a little, waiting for y/n to give an explanation.

“Honestly, I just really wanted to meet you. I didn’t expect you to beat all the scores.”, y/n said as they put all their stuff inside their backpack. “I didn’t even expect you to beat one of them.”

Max raised her eyebrows, her mouth open in shock.

“Excuse me?”, Max replied fake-offended.

Y/n got up and grinned.

“Yeah, I just thought it would be fun to challenge you.”, they said as they shrugged.

“Seems like you have to be reminded who the real champion of the arcade is.”, Max commented in a challenging tone.

“If you say so. You and I. Tonight at 7pm. Sounds good?”, y/n suggested.

“Sounds good. I’ll be there.”, Max replied smiling.

“It’s a date then. See you at 7.”, y/n finally said as they turned around and walked towards the bus stop.

Max blushed again, shyly chewing on her bottom lip. She managed to give y/n a goodbye wave without falling onto her knees right there and then. But something inside of her still had other plans.

“Y/n?”, Max suddenly shouted.

Y/n turned around and stopped in their tracks as they saw a smiling Max running towards them. She embraced them in a tight and warm hug. Now it was y/n’s turn to blush, surprised by the sudden affection. Max didn’t want to let go any time soon, enjoying the presence of the person in her arms.

“Thank you so much. For everything.”, she whispered softly, still holding onto y/n. She even started sobbing a little, overwhelmed by her emotions.

A smile formed on y/n’s face, knowing that whatever they did for her, she had done just the same for them.

“I think I have to thank you, love.”, y/n replied softly.

As y/n’s bus came, Max reluctantly let go of them. Before saying their final goodbye, Max couldn’t help herself but place a soft kiss on y/n’s cheek. Both of their faces were tainted red, their hearts beating at the same fast pace. From this moment on they had a mutual understanding about what they meant to each other.

Not long after their first meeting, they became a couple. Most of their dates still took place at the arcade, but Max wasted no time introducing y/n to her friend circle. She introduced them as the coolest person ever and the second champion of the arcade. Emphasizing the word second. They would spend as much time together as possible. Max was painting on all of y/n’s shoes and y/n was painting on Max’s skateboard in return. They went to buy comic books together, and Max even trusted y/n with her rarest comic books of all time. They had endless sleepovers and y/n even persuaded Max to play DnD with the others.

But what ultimately made this connection as special as it was, is that y/n saved Max from her depression. She told y/n about everything that had happened in the past, trusting them with her biggest secrets. And they were there for her. They listened and they comforted her. And most importantly, they helped her forgive herself.

Them finding each other was fate. Or what Max would always call it:

“It was a miracle.”

A/N: I know this was loooong but thank you so much for reading. I hope you’re happy with the ending and enjoyed the story. <3

#stranger things reader insert #stranger things x reader #max mayfield x reader #max mayfield x you #max mayfield imagine #maxine mayfield

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blu-joons · 2 years

Text

Your Child Asks To Call Him Dad ~ Jeong Yoonoh

“Why can’t Yoonoh put me to bed tonight instead mummy?”

You didn’t know what to say as your daughter pouted across to you, reluctant to head to bed after spending another evening with Yoonoh at your house spending time with you both. She didn’t want to miss out, she loved spending time with him especially, her eyes looking between the two of you as she waited for a response as to who would tuck her into bed for the night.

You couldn’t bring yourself to look across at Yoonoh, worried that perhaps he had been put in an awkward position. Despite the many months that he had spent with the two of you, there were still little things that he didn’t do, things that he felt only a parent could ever really do.

Putting your daughter to bed was one of those things that he’d never felt he needed to do, each time he stayed around in the evenings you always seemed to have everything under control, but now that she asked, Yoonoh couldn’t help but wonder how that would be.

As you remained silent, he answered for you, offering to take her up, but only if you came with them. Yoonoh didn’t know her routine like you did, but he was definitely willing to learn.

With you hanging back from the two of them, Yoonoh managed to help your daughter brush her teeth, her hair, wash her face and pick out a fresh pair of pyjamas before joining her in her bedroom, sitting down at the end of her bed whilst she slid under the duvet.

The evening played out perfectly, your daughter had a wide smile on her face as Yoonoh helped her out. Her smile wasn’t as big as yours though, Yoonoh was a natural with her, ticking yet another box of yours as you assured yourself that Yoonoh was the perfect partner for you.

“Will you still be here in the morning?” She asked Yoonoh once she was settled.

“Do you want me to be here tomorrow?” He questioned in reply, poking her toes that stuck out at the end of her duvet, “you want to have breakfast together?”

Straight away her head nodded excitedly back at Yoonoh, “you’re much better at breakfast than mummy is, she never puts enough milk in my cereal like you do.”

“I must just know you so well,” Yoonoh laughed back at her, smiling across to you as you stood in the doorway of your daughter’s room, “I’ll have to show mummy what the perfect amount is.”

Your head nodded in agreement with what Yoonoh had to say, “I’ll have to get schooled on how to look after you,” you agreed, bringing yet another giggle out of your daughter.

The dynamic between the three of you was perfect as you continued to settle your daughter down. She was full of energy though, every time that Yoonoh visited she found herself not wanting to sleep, instead wanting to spend as much time with him as possible.

“Do you want me to read you a story before you go to sleep?” Yoonoh offered, trying his best to remember the things that he had heard you tell him that you did with your daughter before. “Maybe you could show me what your favourite story is, and I can read it to you? Although I might not be as good as mummy is at reading.”

“I don’t want a story,” she huffed, pouting across at Yoonoh as he frowned back at her. “Can’t I come back downstairs and watch telly with you and mummy? The music programme will be on soon, but I’m going to miss out on it.”

As your head shook, so did Yoonoh’s not wanting to undermine you. Whatever you wanted for her, he made sure to do the same, knowing that you were the parent in the situation.

It didn’t stop him feeling a little bit bad for her though, as much as she wanted to spend time with him, Yoonoh wanted to spend time with her too. He never imagined that he would get on with your daughter so well when you told him about her, but these days the two of them really did act as if they were the best of friends.

“Maybe we can record it and we can watch a bit of it at breakfast tomorrow morning?”

“I’d like that,” your daughter smiled, “will you tell me about who the people singing are?”

Yoonoh nodded in reply to her, promising that he would tell her all about the idols who performed. Ever since she met Yoonoh, she had found herself falling in love with music, even at such a young age, you could tell what inspired her.

“You’re so nice to me,” she then suddenly told Yoonoh, “the only person nicer than you is mummy.”

“Your mummy is very nice,” Yoonoh agreed, offering you a wide and sincere smile. It was almost as if you weren’t in the room as the two of them chatted to one another, but it was something that you were used to most days now as they caused trouble together.

As the room fell silent, Yoonoh could tell that there was a little something more on your daughter’s mind. The way that she looked at him was unlike she ever had done before, almost as if something was troubling her, on the edge of her lips and ready to say to him, but not quite able to say it, until Yoonoh prompted her.

“Can’t you stay forever and just be my dad?”

Neither of you expected it, with intakes of breath coming from you both. Her eyes looked between you both, not quite sure what it was that she had done so bad to get such a reaction from you both.

“You always take care of me Yoonoh and you make mummy happy to,” she explained to him when the two of you didn’t speak. “You’ve been here with us forever, and you always say how you’re not going to go anywhere and abandon us.”

“Is that really what you want Y/D/N?”

Her head nodded straight away as Yoonoh asked the question, with her mind already made up. As his eyes looked to you, you stepped away, wanting it to be a decision that he made, happy with whatever the two of them chose together.

“If you want me to be your dad, I will,” he smiled back across to her.

Straight away she launched herself forward and wrapped her arms around Yoonoh’s broad frame, “there’s no one else in the world that I want to be my dad Yoonoh.”

“Are you absolutely sure?” Yoonoh asked as he held onto her. “You don’t feel as if you have to ask me to be your dad, do you? You’re doing this because it’s what you want Y/D/N, not what anyone else wants.”

“I promise,” she giggled, squeezing onto Yoonoh a little bit tighter, “I want to have a daddy who looks after me, and that’s what you do perfectly.”

Your smile was wide as you watched the two of them share their moment together. It didn’t take long though for Yoonoh to look across to you. “Shall we invite mummy to join our hug?” He asked your daughter.

“I suppose so,” she joked, looking up to watch you walk across the room, making space for you on the edge of the bed too to join their hug.

As soon as you did, you met Yoonoh’s eyes. “Are you happy?” He asked you as he wrapped his arm tightly around your frame to hold onto you too.

“I’m happy, as long as Y/D/N’s happy,” you responded.

“Mummy! Don’t worry, I’m very happy!”

---

Masterlist

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aftermathfanfic · 7 months

Text

“She told you this, and you didn’t say anything?” Donald hissed furiously.

“I didn’t put any stock in it!” Scrooge whispered defensively. “Even if the Templars had been cultists, they’ve been disbanded for centuries! The castle’s been unoccupied since then!”

“You can’t just assume that!” Donald countered. He shook his head angrily, snarling, “Razzle, frazzling-! Every time I think you’ve learned-!”

“I know, Donald! Don’t think I’m not kickin’ myself!”Scrooge growled back at him.

Donald let go and folded his arms crossly. “So. What’s the plan now?” He demanded.

Scrooge took a moment to think about that.

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

Huey’s phone buzzed.

He looked over from the mass of plastic and wires he was tinkering on, sitting over on the ‘electronics’ section of his workbench. Della had retired a while ago, and it was just him and his projects now. He could comfortably stay up late tonight, since the weekend was tomorrow, and he was determined to spend these precious hours working on as many of his side projects as he could.

Again, his phone buzzed.

He checked it, seeing that the notification had come from his friends’ group chat.

Violet @Huey Duck. Hello. Just confirming that the office visit was uneventful. You didn’t come back to class, so we’ve been speculating on what happened.

Huey winced. He’d forgotten to tell his friends about Nickel. He wasn’t even sure if he should. It seemed like one of those things that only the family had to know about.

After a moment’s hesitation, he sent a reply.

Huey I’m okay. I wasn’t in trouble. It’s a bit of a weird situation though.

A moment passed, then his phone buzzed again.

Violet Weird in what way?

Huey sighed. Of course, Violet was going to be inquisitive. Oscar’s icon was showing up on the app now, meaning that he’d seen the messages too. All eyes were on him now.

He didn’t say anything at first. Anxiety held him back and kept him from responding, which he imagined was only concerning his friends further. He slowly typed out his next message, then hit send.

Huey Can you guys keep a secret? Violet With my life. Oscar nope if its something serious mate, then I don’t need to know about it. odds are good that I’ll accidentally blurt it out to someone Huey Ok

Huey switched over to a private chat with Violet, then began to type feverishly.

Huey Ok, so some FBI agent was in there and he wanted to talk to me about Scrooge He was really weird. He was doing that thing that police do when they’re overly friendly with a suspect to make him confess to something. He seemed to think that my uncle had done something wrong and that I could help him somehow. He didn’t tell my mom or Mrs Beakley or anyone else, so I didn’t have a guardian present, so I’m pretty sure that the whole thing was illegal. He asked me about what we were doing in Paris and what we were looking for. I think he either already knew why we were there or at least thought that he did. And he lost his temper and started shouting when I refused to answer his questions. He wasn’t very professional overall. His suit wasn’t buttoned up or pressed or anything. But the weirdest thing is that he specifically asked me questions about some of the artifacts we had in the Other Bin Which should be impossible, because nobody outside the family knows about it (Im assuming that Webby and Lena have told you about the Other Bin) I have no idea what he wants or what any of this means I don’t think any of the adults do either It's all just so confusing Anyway my mom took me home afterwards so that he wouldn’t get a chance to harass me again

Huey stopped texting and watched the screen anxiously for a reply. He saw an ellipsis symbol in the bottom, showing that Violet was texting back a reply. After a moment, it appeared on his screen.

Violet I see.

There was a pause before the next message.

Violet Your uncle definitely hasn’t done anything wrong? I’m not saying he’d commit a federal offence intentionally, but perhaps it’s something that his company has done? Huey I’m certain of it. That Scrooge hasn’t done anything wrong, anyway. Jeez, I really hope it isn’t the company. Violet What was the agent’s name? It might be worth searching him. Huey Agent Nickel. That’s a good idea, actually. Violet I can do some research of my own to assist you, if you want. This might not be something you can fight on your own. Huey Thanks Violet. I’ll let you know if there’s anything you can do to help us. At the moment, it’s too early to say. Violet Understood. Incidentally, we should probably delete these messages and keep discussions of this offline. If your uncle is under investigation, it would be a small matter for the FBI to acquire text messages that you’ve sent. Huey I think deleting messages from a chat is just a visual thing. It doesn’t remove it from the database. Violet You’re probably right, but it’s best to take precautions. Good luck, Huey.

No sooner than Violet had written out her last message that she began deleting her side of the conversation, each message replaced one by one with ‘message deleted’. Huey followed suit until there was not a trace of the exchange, only a wall of generic empty messages.

After a moment, he put his phone away and pushed the mass of electronics to the side. His project could wait. This was far more important.

Swiftly, he got out his laptop, a blank notepad, and a handful of pens, placing them all on his desk. Once the computer was booted up, he typed in ‘FBI agent Nickel’ into the search window, then hit enter.

He sighed irritably as he saw the first round of results. None of them were relevant, just references to some old case about a hollow nickel and a Cold War spy. The next page of results was equally useless, only tangentially related to his search terms.

Deciding to change his approach, Huey filtered the search results to display news articles. He wasn’t going to find FBI databases or a dossier with Nickel’s name on it, but perhaps he could find something in the news about a case Nickel was involved in.

The first page wasn’t useful to him. Neither was the second, nor the third. It was only when he got to the seventh page of results that he finally found something. A headline that gave him pause.

Terrorist pair extradited from UK; FBI director says ‘F.O.W.L.’s days are over’

Huey stared at the headline, slowly blinking in disbelief. He clicked on the article, opening it in a new window. No sooner than he did, he saw the image the article had at the top of the page and his beak fell agape in shock.

Nickel wasn’t in the photo. But front and centre was the Phantom Blot.

The Blot wasn’t looking at the camera, his back turned as he was being shoved inside a car by an FBI agent, amid a crowd of police, secret agents and journalists. Following closely behind him was that F.O.W.L. Egghead who seemed to work with him, looking around wildly and apparently arguing with one of the agents that was handling her. Both of them were handcuffed.

“What…?” Huey murmured, scrolling down to read more.

Today marks the official fall of the notorious terrorist organisation known as the Fiendish Organization for World Larceny (F.O.W.L.), as joint operation by the FBI and Interpol results in the capture and arrest of one of its most notorious members. Known as the Phantom Blot, this enigmatic figure is believed to have been among the highest-ranking leaders of the terrorists and is now set to serve a life sentence in Washington State Prison.

How had he never heard of this? Huey started to scroll deeper, his eyes glued on the screen. He didn’t even know F.O.W.L. had still existed during this time. None of their agents had come after them after the Library of Alexandria, not in all these years had they heard as much as a peep from F.O.W.L. Yet, here this article was, claiming that the Phantom Blot had been operating all the way up to 2022.

He kept reading all the way to the end of the article, pausing only to take note of a particular quote near the end of the article.

“I would like to thank the American Federal Bureau of Investigation, particularly Special Agent Nickel and Assistant Director Charleston, for their invaluable assistance in this operation.” Says Senior Agent Jacques Monroe. “This couldn’t have been done without them.”

Huey frowned, tapping his pen against his notepad. He quickly scribbled down, ‘Phantom Blot arrest – Agent Nickel and Assistant Director Charleston (FBI)’, then moved on.

Once he was done with the article, he returned to the search page and added ‘FOWL’ to his search terms.

He hit enter.

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

Galinha, Portugal

They had been navigating the underground dungeon of Castelo de Cristo for about ten minutes when Scrooge heard a voice behind him shout, “Look out!”

Scrooge yelped as Webby pulled him back, just in time for a scythe blade to come swinging past his face. He stumbled back as the scythe began swinging to-and-fro across the corridor, into and out of a pair of slits in the wall, with two more scythes swinging asynchronously behind it.

The whole party came to a stop behind him as Webby propped Scrooge back onto his feet. “Are you okay, dad?” She asked.

“Aye, aye.” Scrooge muttered, brushing himself off. “Don’t know how I didn’t spot that…”

“You need to be more careful!” Webby scolded him. “We’re in a ruin, remember?”

“I know, I know!” Scrooge growled irritably. He peered across to the other side of the corridor, noticing an empty iron torch sconce not too far behind the swinging scythes. “Hm…” He pointed over at it with his cane, saying, “There. I’d bet my bottom dollar that pulling on that sconce over there stops the trap.”

“Sweet.” May remarked, stepping forward towards the blades.

Immediately, she was stopped by Scrooge’s cane and Donald gripping her arm, crying, “What are you doing?”

“What? All we gotta do is weave between the blades and grab the switch that turns them off.” May explained. “Simple.”

“Yeah, even a simple deathtrap is called a death-trap!” Dewey exclaimed from behind her. “If we’re gonna turn it off, we want to do it without getting sliced by those things.”

May seemed to think about that for a moment. She stepped forward just a little, watching the blades as they swung back and forth.

She knelt down to the ground, picking up a stray brick from the ground. She threw it up and down a couple of times, apparently testing its weight.

Then, with a cry, she threw it up in the air, leapt up, and kicked it with all her might.

Like a bullet, the brick flew through the air, past each of the scythes as they were swinging across the corridor, and struck the sconce, shattering on impact. The iron torch-holder immediately swung around on a vertical axis, like a giant door handle, and each of the scythes instantly froze in place.

May turned back to the others, all of them staring at her with beaks agape.

“How’s that?” She asked with a smirk.

“Nicely done, lass!” Scrooge exclaimed proudly.

“That was one of the coolest things I’ve ever seen!” Dewey gushed. “You gotta teach me how to do that!”

May beamed proudly.

Carefully, the family stepped around the scythe blades, ducking under the one in the middle, which had stopped moving right in the centre of the hallway. Once they were safely past them, they continued on their way to the end of the corridor, at which they found another wooden door.

Scrooge carefully pushed it open to the next room, revealing a hall with three dungeon cells on either side, each barred with iron. At the very end of the hallway was a wooden desk and another door that led straight ahead. Typical of a complex like this, with that immediately denoted trouble… but he’d been wrong before.

“Straight ahead?” Donald suggested, though he posed it more as a question.

“Aye.” Scrooge agreed, stepping carefully into the room.

They were about halfway through when Louie spoke up from behind, “Hey, June. I found another one.”

The party turned to see him kneeling down to pick something up from the floor. He stood up, holding another cigarette butt in his hand.

“Another one…” June mused.

“This deep into the dungeon?” Scrooge said concernedly.

June peered into the cell that Louie was standing next to. Reaching out, she pushed the cell door open, the set of bars swinging without so much as a squeak. Webby frowned and stepped into the cell with June, examining the hinges as June inspected the cell’s interior, which consisted of an old straw bed and a thick sheet of dust.

Or at least, so it seemed. As June was inspecting the hay bale, she called out what she found. “The hay here looks fresh. And the dust here’s been disturbed recently.”

“And these joints have been oiled.” Webby added, swinging the cell door back and forth to prove her point. “Like, recently oiled.”

“Someone else has been down here.” Louie breathed.

“That cannae be…” Scrooge muttered anxiously.

“Um…” June spoke up, a hint of nervousness in her voice. “There’s also, um… some of the hay here has blood on it.”

She held up a few strands of straw to show the rest. It was hard to see in the dim light, but Scrooge could just make out a few flecks of crimson upon the otherwise golden fibres.

“…Fresh blood?” Scrooge asked worriedly.

June shrugged, uncertain. “It’s not old.”

A blanket of silence fell upon the family as they considered the implications. Louie stepped back from the cell, his expression ill, muttering, “So- so, what now?”

Scrooge didn’t have an answer.

“…Give us a moment.” Donald muttered, taking Scrooge by the arm and leading him over to the other end of the hallway. Scrooge went with him, frowning as he thought to himself.

Once they were far enough from the kids, Donald whispered to him worriedly, “What do we do? If it isn’t just Goldie down here…”

“I know, I know…” Scrooge murmured.

“And blood? Do… you think Goldie got into trouble?”

Scrooge tapped the handle of his cane as he tried to think of a response.

She’s in danger. We need to hurry.

He opened his beak, then shut it tight. He knew what that voice was now, and he didn’t trust it.

“…Scrooge?” Donald asked concernedly.

“…I…” He said hesitantly. “I don’t think Goldie’s in trouble, no… but… she did mention something…”

“What?”

“She mentioned that she’d heard that there was a… cult… operatin’ out of this castle.”

“…What?”

“Aye. Claimed that they’d kidnapped a young lass, too. I thought it was impossible at the time, but now… I’m wonderin’ if I’d been wrong.”

Donald stared at him for a few seconds before grabbing Scrooge by the collar and pulling him into his face. “She told you this, and you didn’t say anything?” Donald hissed furiously.

“I didn’t put any stock in it!” Scrooge whispered defensively. “Even if the Templars had been cultists, they’ve been disbanded for centuries! The castle’s been unoccupied since then!”

“You can’t just assume that!” Donald countered. He shook his head angrily, snarling, “Razzle, frazzling-! Every time I think you’ve learned-!”

“I know, Donald! Don’t think I’m not kickin’ myself!”Scrooge growled back at him.

Donald let go and folded his arms crossly. “So. What’s the plan now?” He demanded.

Scrooge took a moment to think about that.

With a heavy sigh, he turned around and said loudly, “Kids!”

The kids approached them, all of them looking worried. Scrooge doubted that they hadn’t noticed the argument, but that wasn’t important.

“Hey, uh, I don’t know if I’m…” Louie started to say apprehensively.

“I know, lad.” Scrooge told him reassuringly. Turning to the rest, he said sternly, “Right, kids… I’ve spoken with Donald, and somethin’ definitely wrong here. Someone dangerous is down here, and… well, we don’t know if it’s safe to continue.”

“Are… are we turning back?” Webby asked disappointedly.

“…Not yet.” Scrooge told her. Pointing at the next door with his cane, he explained, “I’m going to scout ahead down there. The rest of you will stay behind here. If I’m not back in exactly twenty minutes,” He said loudly as the kids started to protest. “Then Donald will take you back to the hotel. Do not wait for me.”

“But what if something happens to you?” Dewey exclaimed.

“I’ll be fine.” Scrooge assured him. “Whatever happens, I’ll find me way out. What’s important is that you keep yourselves safe. Understand?”

Webby, Dewey and Louie didn’t answer, all of them looking uneasy. May and June simply looked at each other gravely, then nodded at Scrooge.

Scrooge turned to Donald. “You remember the way back?” Scrooge asked.

“…Yeah.” Donald replied, clearly also uneasy.

Scrooge turned back to his family. “Twenty minutes.” He reminded them. “I’ll be fine.”

With that, he made his way over to the door beside the desk, opening it and stepping inside. He turned back to his family and gave them one last confident smile before closing it on their worried faces.

He turned around, his bravado vanishing to be replaced with grave determination. He took out his pocketwatch, memorised the time, and then began to trapse forward, holding his cane tightly.

He kept his eye on the floor, scanning the stone tiles for any more evidence of trespassers. Eventually, he came to a T-intersection in the corridor, both directions looking identical to the other.

He turned left.

That corridor led him to a flight of stairs, which in turn led him down to another intersection, with a path going straight ahead, and another branching off to his right. Looking between the two routes, he spied something on the floor, a few feet in front of him. Approaching it, he saw that it was a flip-phone of some kind, broken, like it had been stepped underfoot. Kneeling down and picking it up, he saw that the back of it had been plastered over with colourful stickers.

Heard from some of the people here that a girl went missing ‘bout a week ago. Apparently, she disappeared scaling the cliffs near the castle.

He should’ve listened to Goldie.

Cursing under his breath, he stood up and started to make his way down the corridor before him. The corridor took him through two larger rooms, the first one being a square chamber with scorch marks across the walls, and the second being a long, wide corridor with sets of floor spikes popping in and out of the tiles at regular intervals. These were dummy rooms, Scrooge realised, rooms that had no purpose other than to trap intruders. Goldie must have set them off.

Scrooge navigated the traps easily. Whatever trap had caused the scorch marks had either been discharged or disabled, and the pattern the spike trap followed was predictable. At the end of the gauntlet was a corridor, from which Scrooge could feel a draft of cool nighttime air.

Confused, he followed the corridor to the end, leading him to an open door that led outside. Stepping out, Scrooge found himself on the cliffs surrounding the castle, the wind whistling ominously through his feathers. Beside the exit was a crumpled tarp covered with dirt, grass and roots – camouflage, that once covered this door.

Scrooge looked back and forth along the cliffs, frowning. Why had Goldie taken this path out of the castle?

She hadn’t, he suddenly realised. This was the way she’d come in.

Scrooge spun around and started running back the way he’d come, cursing himself all the way. They hadn’t been following Goldie. All this time, they’d been following someone else, someone who wanted to be followed. They’d walked right into an ambush, and Scrooge had been too blind to see it.

He darted effortlessly through the spike trap room and the scorched room, stumbling as he threw his back out with his pace. Gritting through the pain, he forced himself to keep running, making his way up to the second intersection.

He skidded to a stop.

There were three figures in front of him.

Scrooge held himself upright on his cane, panting as he stared at the men before him. They weren’t wearing dark robes, nor did they have occult tattoos, but they were definitely the cultists Goldie had mentioned to him. He could see it in their eyes. They each wore trousers and button-up shirts, as well as what looked to be steel necklaces buried into their navels.

One of them was pointing a hunting rifle at him.

The gunman stepped forth. He was a rooster with pale brown feathers and a cigarette hanging limply in his mouth. “Bem-vindo à Catedral de Baphomet, Americano.” He drawled coldly, speaking Portuguese before switching to English. “You’re coming with us.”

Scrooge glanced past them, towards his family. The cultists noticed, chuckling darkly as one. “Do not concern yourself with them. You should be more worried about you.”

“What have you done to my family?” Scrooge snarled.

“They are not for us to do with.” The leader replied with an evil smirk. “They belong to the Bulezau now.”

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thenextdawn-temporarilyclosed · 1 year

Text

Blood Hungry

Part Two of One in A Million

Word Count: 2.0K

Summary: your parents turn you into a vampire and you go through a very hard phase of human blood hunger.

Warnings: blood

Pairing: Wednesday X Fem!Reader

This is for the people who had asked me for part two! I’m sorry if this disappoints you I just didn’t really know what to write, but I tried my best 🥲

———

After you moved to Nevermore, you did spend a lot of time with Wednesday, but you also spent it with Yoko and the other vampires. You needed to learn stuff, even if what they could teach you was limited. For now you shared your room with Wednesday and Enid since you knew Wednesday, and for the first period of time she would help you moving around. You were still kind of weak so she helped you shower and change and get in bed. You would have never thought that Wednesday had this side of her, but you definitely didn’t mind that. Though recently, she had to admit she was jealous. As you were taking your medicines she came to you and sat on your bed.

“Are you ignoring me?” The shorter girl asked you, and you looked at her confused “what? Why would I be ignoring you Nes?” You said as you sat down next to her. “I don’t know, you just rarely spend time with me anymore. You’re always with those vampires. I almost lost you too many times, I want to spend time with you” she said and you smiled slightly at her. “Nes, they’re teaching me stuff. It’s not like they’re better than you or anything like that, I promise. Though they drink animal blood and I’m sure it’ll be a lot different, since my parents drink human blood. They’ll probably get me used to it as well.” You shrugged “but I promise you I’m not ignoring you, okay? If you feel like I am then I’m so sorry, but we can go have a drink at the weathervane whenever you want. Okay?” She nodded and feeling a little bit more relieved, she went back to writing her novel.

The medicines you were taking were slowly working. You eventually got back on your feet, and your scar was healing too, you didn’t need the bandaid anymore. You were agreeing on your parents on when to turn you, and you would have to take a few days off school to get used to the new need. After talking to Weems about it and obviously she agreed, you went to Wednesday to talk about it. “Nes, tomorrow I’ll go home because my parents will finally turn me. I won’t have any more heart problems but I’ll need to take a few days off of school because I’ll have to get used to drinking blood and all of that” you started. She was in the middle of her writing hour so she didn’t even look at you.

“Great, okay.” You looked at her confused, not expecting an answer like that. “Is that all you have to say?” You asked with a sort of disbelief. “Are you going to spend more time with those grown up bats? Or better, are you going to be always with them?” She said, turning around to look at you. “What? Of course not Wednesday! I mean I will spend time with them because we do have something in common but I’ll still spend more time with you, because you’re my best friend!” You said, really not understanding why was she acting like this. “Yeah right, your best friend” she said almost mocking you, which made you upset. “Are you being serious right now Wednesday? You have always been my best friend ever since we were kids, why would I exchange you for someone I barely know?” You said, and she turned around to look at you.

“You weren’t my best friend when you were ignoring me for weeks.” You looked in her eyes and could see how upset she was. “Wednesday I already told you-“ you realized it was no use, so you raised your arms and let them drop on your sides. “You know what? Guess I’ll leave a day sooner. See you when I get back” you grabbed your suitcase and left, luckily you had prepared it already. You asked Weems to let you go sooner and she did, so you were soon at your parents. They made sure thousands of time that you really wanted to do this, of course you did. You were so tired of always having to have surgeries to fix an unfixable problem, so they turned you. Your mother was the one to do so.

When you woke up for the first time and opened your eyes, they were bright red. You were hungry, and they immediately gave you human blood, which you thought tasted amazing. You practiced going in public with your parents and it was really hard because you kept smelling blood everywhere, luckily they taught you how to keep self control, you managed to control yourself but not for long and that worried you. You wanted to be able to be near to Wednesday without feeling the need of her blood.

Soon enough you returned to school, and the first ones to greet you were of course the vampires. Yoko was the first one to ask you how you felt, and you explained everything to her, how you felt when you first woke up. Only problem was, the blood they give you in school is animal blood, and as of now you can’t have that. Then Wednesday came up to you. “How did the turning go?” She asked as she looked at you. You tilted her head to a side “oh now you care?” You asked her, hands on your sides “I’ve always cared-“ you stopped her before she could continue. “You didn’t seem to care when just three days ago you were telling me that I wasn’t your best friend” she stayed quiet at that. “I’m sorry-“ she then said. “Are you, Wednesday? Tell me, are you sorry? The world doesn’t revolve around you and I’m allowed to have other friends aside from you. I never had that in my life and neither did you, you should try this” you said and walked away with Yoko and the others.

The following days went by smoothly, your studies did, and Wednesday didn’t bother you anymore. Little did you know that she was trying to find a way to apologize to you. She knew she had exaggerated. She truly cared for you, but she never meant for you to feel like you couldn’t have friends aside from her. She would stare at you from the other side of class and would get nervous when she saw you too affectionate with someone else. After a while, your days weren’t so smooth anymore. You had tried drinking the animal blood, buy you would always throw that up. It was disgusting and as much as you tried drinking it, it just wasn’t working.

One day after class you were heading to your room who you now shared with Yoko and Wednesday noticed that you seemed weaker than usual. “(Y/N), are you okay? You seem weak. Are you drinking your blood?” She felt weird asking it, as much as she would like to see the scene she knew it wouldn’t be a good sight. “Do I look like I am?” You asked, turning around to see her. “All this school gives us is animal blood. And I can’t drink that, not now that I’ve just turned” you said as you kept on walking to your room. “Well you could take some from me” she said without hesitance “no, forget that. Get this thought out of your mind” you said and kept walking away from her. “Why not? If you need it so bad then take it” she insisted. “I said NO Wednesday! I can’t control myself yet” you said and finally got to your room, locking her outside. She sighed once again and walked away, she felt as if she was loosing her best friend.

A couple more days passed and you didn’t go to school. You kept smelling blood everywhere and you didn’t want to hurt someone. One night you decided to go to the woods to try and clear out your nose from smelling all that blood and you did, for a while. You suddenly smelled a very strong smell of blood. You went where your nose led you and you found a guy, victim of the monster everyone was talking about. He was dead and you thought that no one would see if you took some blood. So you knelt down next to him and bit into his neck, taking all the blood you needed. You didn’t hear footsteps approach until a blinding light shined on you. You pulled away from the guy and it was cops. Blood drooling down your lips as you raised your hand up.

“U-uh… okay. This is not what it seems like. I have not killed this guy, he was already dead! I just took advantage to feed myself with his blood. I promise I have nothing to do with it.” You said trying to justify yourself. The sheriff moved his torch from you to the guy and noticed the cut in his stomach and the missing arm. “Don’t worry, we know it wasn’t you.” He then proceeded to explain everything to you and then he took you back to school, where you were taken straight to Weems’s office. “You know that getting out of school after curfew is a reason to get you suspended right?” The principal told you, as you nodded and looked down. “Then why were you out?” She asked for the millionth time. “I told you, I was trying to find some human blood! I can’t just go bite random people and here you have just animal blood! What about the vampires that only drink human blood, huh?” You told her and watched as she stayed quiet.

“It’s not fair! It’s not like we go and kill people to take their blood! You should have human blood here too, maybe you could have a day in the week where everyone donates their blood because otherwise the vampires like me won’t survive here and that is absolutely not correct” you gave Weems no time to reply because you quickly left her office and went to your room. You hadn’t drank much blood from the guy so you were still thirsty, but at some point you heard a knock on the door and went to open it, only to find Wednesday with a blood bag in her hands. “Where did you get it!?” You immediately took it from her and checked it to see what type it was. “I may have done a little trip to the hospital and had Thing help me steal some” she told you, which made you look at her and then back at the bag.

You made a little opening on it and immediately started chugging it down. You were so hungry and this was just perfect. A few drops of blood getting out and dirtying your chin and throat and she looked at them rolling down. When you were done you licked your lips and looked at Wednesday “thank you so much, I really needed it” you said and smiled it at her. She walked closer to you and wiped the drops of blood. “I’m sorry” you heard her say, and tried not to smile. “It’s okay. You made up with this bag of blood” you told her and in the end you did smile. “See you tomorrow in school?” She asked and you smiled “yep!”

Tags: @neon-lights-27 @dreifhraniquo29

#jenna ortega #wednesday #wednesday x y/n #wednesday x you #wednesday x reader #wednesday adams #wednesday adams x reader #wednesday addams #wednesday addams x y/n #wednesday addams x you #wednesday addams x reader

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serpentinearchitect17 · 1 year

Text

Just a short scene I wrote because Zutara has been occupying about 90% of my thoughts lately 😅

Side Note: This scene diverges from canon after the end of the war because damn it, Zuko and Katara will always end up together in whatever context, scene, or story I write. I’m also still working on my full fledged fanfic! I don’t want to give away too many details, but it is a Modern-Day AU with Lunar New Year celebrations, and an extreme amount of fluff and pining. I can’t wait to finally share it! I’m hoping for a late spring/early summer release on AO3, but that may be optimistic because I write about as fast as a snail-sloth.

Anyway, without further ado…

*****

~Zuko’s Favorite Color~

Three years after the end of the 100 Year War, the Gaang meets on Ember Island to spend the week together. Before leaving, Zuko asked Iroh to take over his Fire Lord duties for the time being, just so he could spend his holiday relaxing and enjoying his time with his friends.

They’re all lounging on the beach at the night, drinking tea around a fire.

After slurping her tea and setting the empty cup aside, Toph turns to the group.

“Let’s play a game,” she suggests. “The rules are simple. All you have to do is guess Sparky’s favorite color. The winner gets to have all of their meals paid for by him tomorrow.” She slaps Zuko, who’s sitting next to her, on the back. With a wicked grin, she continues, “And the loser has to plant one on him tonight, with his consent, of course.”

Zuko chokes on his tea. “Hey, wait a minute! None of that is even remotely fair,” he protests, gesturing wildly. He glares at the world’s greatest Earthbender with a scowl. “Either I have to dole out money or I have to give out a kiss. How does any of that benefit me? And why in Agni’s name would we play a game where you all guess my favorite color? It makes so sense!”

Sokka laughs. “Dude, you’re just afraid I’m gonna win and you’re gonna have buy me food. You’ve seen the way I eat - you’ll be out of money by the end of tomorrow!

Snorting, Zuko shakes his head. “Buddy, I think you’re afraid that you’re gonna lose and have to kiss me.”

“Psh, you’d be lucky to kiss me! I’m a real catch, aren’t I, Suki?”

Suki kisses her boyfriend’s cheek and coos, “You sure are.”

Impatiently, Toph sighs. “Are you in or not, Fire Lord? C’mon, you’re among friends. No one’s gonna hurt you. You can back out if you wanna, but I think it’ll be fun.”

Zuko knows she’s right. It’s all in good fun. These are his friends - the ones he’s trusted time and time again. No one would be cruel. Plus, if he’s being honest, he’s hoping that he’ll get to kiss a certain someone tonight. Someone he’s had a crush on for a long time.

“Fine,” Zuko mutters. “Go ahead.”

Toph gleefully rubs her hands together. “Excellent. Does everyone consent to the rules of the game?”

A chorus of ‘yeahs’, ‘yeses’, and ‘yeps’ goes around.

“Sweet,” Toph says. “I’ll go first. Sparky’s favorite color is…blue.”

Sokka nods sagely. “Yep, it’s 100% blue, no doubt about it.”

Suki chimes in with, “I agree. It’s totally blue.”

Aang hums, stroking his chin. “I think blue would be the correct answer here.”

It’s Katara’s turn. She furrows her brows and frowns. “Why are you all saying blue? His favorite color is obviously red! It’s the color of his homeland, and every article of clothing he owns has some shade of red in it!”

Zuko’s cheeks flush to a deep crimson. He feels himself sinking further into the sand. “Um…” he trails off, scrubbing his hands over his face. He’s not even sure how to respond.

Everyone looks at him expectantly.

Toph smirks. “So, Sparky, what is your favorite color?”

He knows he can’t lie. He’s never been able to, and he doesn’t think he could start now. He decides to give in, resigned to his fate.

Peeking between his fingers, he mumbles, “It’s…um…blue.”

Toph laughs uproariously. “Called it! And we all know why! See, you love blue because everything about it reminds you of Sugar Queen.”

Sokka makes a gagging sound, but offers his own explanation. “Blue is the color of her eyes, which you’re constantly drawn to, by the way. Don’t think I haven’t noticed.”

Suki smiles. “Blue is the color of the clothing that she wears.”

Finally, Aang wraps up the conversation with, “Blue is the color of water, which is the element that she bends.”

Katara has been silent this whole time, her entire face highlighted in a lovely, rosy hue. She only has eyes for Zuko right now.

Quietly, she stands from her spot and crosses over to him, sitting down beside him. “Is any of this true?” she asks him softly, an unreadable expression on her face.

A shaky breath leaves his lips, and he nods. “Yeah, all of it,” he answers honestly, feeling his heart thump wildly.

Then, to his complete dismay, she gives him breathtaking smile.

Her ocean blue eyes never leave his as she murmurs, “Now might be a good time to tell you my favorite two colors.” She pauses, leaning over to brush the hair out of his eyes. “Red and gold because they’ll always be a part of you, Zuko. Every time I see those colors, I immediately think of you.”

His gasp is low, but an enormous grin overtakes his face. “Really?”

“Really.” She turns back to the group, who’s been watching with rapt attention. With a gentle smirk, she shrugs. “Guess I lost the game. And I’m nothing if not a gracious loser.”

Zuko hears Sokka snort, but only focuses on Katara.

“Do you really want to kiss me?” he asks nervously, hands clenching the bottom of his tunic to keep them from shaking. “Because I want to kiss you. Spirits, do I ever want to. But, your comfort comes first to me, always. So, we can forget this whole thing if it makes you uncomfortable.”

“I want to,” she sighs dreamily. “I’ve been waiting three years. Don’t make me wait any more.”

With that, they both lean and their lips touch. Finally.

As they continue to kiss, Zuko vaguely registers the sounds of claps, hollers, and an indignant whine of, “Dude, that’s my sister!” in the background.

Eventually, Katara pulls back to catch her breath, leaving Zuko in a dazed state.

She giggles, presses a light kiss to his scarred cheek, and says, “I think you may need to tap into the Fire Nation’s budget tomorrow. Your personal finances aren’t going to look so good with all of those mouths to feed.”

His eyes widen and dart to his friends, who all wave back at him smugly.

Groaning, he wraps his arm around her waist to pull her closer.

He addresses the group. “You’re all the worst. But…” he trails off to kiss the top of Katara’s head. “This stupid game was worth it.”

#avatar the last airbender #atla #zutara #zuko x katara #zuko and katara #zuko #katara #the gaang #the whole Gaang ships Zutara #fire lord zuko #ambassador katara #ember island

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blizzardfluffykpop · 1 year

Text

Together

Summary: Wrapping presents together.

Oneshot

Fluff, Established Relationship au

Word Count: 786

Gunil X Reader

Requested: for the 12 days of winter can I request #6 and xh? any member or even all of them!

Prompt: 6. Wrapping presents together

------

Your friend group consists of six people, one of which is your boyfriend, Gunil. That means you have a lot of people to wrap for and so little time. Considering you are seeing the six of them tomorrow for a Christmas party. And that you have yet to start wrapping their gifts means tonight is going to be a long night for you. You decide to work on Gunil’s first to get it out of the way. When an idea strikes you, you immediately dial Gunil up, and he answers, “Hey, sweetheart, what’s up?” You grin, “Hi, sweetie! I was wondering if you’d like to wrap presents with me?” “Yeah! Let me finish wrapping up yours, and I’ll bring the rest of mine over, and we can do them together!” “Okay! I’ll hurry up and finish wrapping yours then, too!” With that, you hang up and speed through wrapping the last of Gunil’s presents. Smacking each of them with a bow because his presents deserved a little extra love.

Just as you finish smacking the last bow onto the final present, your doorbell rings. You smile, get up from the living room floor, and walk over and answer it. “Ho! Ho! Ho! I brought everyone’s presents!” You can’t help but laugh at his imitation, and he laughs as you shut the door behind him. He puts his bag down next to your pile before pouring it out, “Oh, I think you have even more than I do.” He looks at your tower of gifts, “Maybe an equal amount.” You say as you squint towards it as well before looking over at his pile and handing him a roll of Christmas paper.

The two of you work in silence before you notice that you’re wrapping the same thing. “Did you get those for Jiseok by chance?” He looks up before noticing that you have a giant bag of picks as well. “Ahh– I see we had a similar train of thought.” You grin, “That boy leaves them everywhere! Jooyeon’s right. The longer we’re together, the more we think alike apart.” The two of you laugh before wrapping them, “I’ll throw mine in the stocking.” He says, and you grin, “Alright! I get underneath the tree!”

You continue wrapping presents in silence. Except for a few hums here and there. When he groans, “How many more presents do we have left?” You look to your left to see the pile, which only decreased in size a little bit. With a sigh, you go, “A tower left– we have too many friends.” He laughs, “Yeah, but I’m glad I get to share them with you.” You smile, “Me too.” You stretch and pull your tower closer. While Gunil places another present into Hyeongjun’s pile.

There are probably ten presents for each of you left to wrap when the two of you start losing the momentum to continue wrapping. You’re looking at the tape in your hands and Seungmin’s present. Hoping that the Shiba Inu plushie will magically start to wrap itself. When Gunil reaches over and puts his hands in yours, “If you want, we can stop for the night?” You shake your head, continuing to look at your lap, “There’s only ten left though.” He leans down, making sure you can see his face clearly, “So?” You pout, “It shouldn’t be that hard.” He scoots over, releasing your hands from his grasp, and lays down on your lap still looking at your face, “Well, a break won’t hurt us.” You grin, “I can settle for that.” He smiles, “Good.” You lift his head for a moment and stretch out your legs. He leans up and gives you a small peck, “I love you, sweetheart.” With your cheeks blazing red, you say, “I love you more, honey.” And pull him in for another kiss before letting him lay his head back down on your lap. The two of you stare off at each other, taking in each other's appearance.

Out of the blue, you go, “Do you think we can spend every holiday like this?” “Like, hmm?” “Together?” Gunil finally looks up, “I hope so. I would like that.” You grin, “I would like that too. There’s no other way I’d like to spend it.” He grins up at you before sitting up, “Let’s finish these presents together?” You nod, “Together.”

And finally, with every present wrapped and signed, the two of you climb up and sit on your couch. Wrapped up in each other's arms, you both pass out from pure wrapping exhaustion. But as long as you are together, there is nowhere else you two would like to be than in the comforts of each other's arms.

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lyon-amore · 1 year

Text

What if…? Duskwood Chapter 16

Chapter 15 ————————————————————————————-

*Macie POV*

While I'm working, I get notification from the group. Dan has returned. I'm so happy when I see him, even though I'm mad at him for taking the car while he was drunk. If he could write, then he was perfect. Well, inside what it means to be perfect.

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

Lilly Were you really drinking? Dan That wasn’t even worth mentioning Jessie 😠 Dan For real it was barely anyhing Macie You were completely wasted Lilly And how exactly do you happen to know that? Were you at the Black Swan with him? ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I control myself not to yell at the screen. Seriously, what's Lilly's problem with me? Right now I haven't said anything that seems suspicious, why does she hate me so much?

I frown, annoyed. Do she always have to make my days bitter? ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Macie No, we were chatting Dan I love being the center of attention in your argument but I need some sleep. My head feels like it’s gonna explode Lilly Hold up Dan Dan Oh yeah, the vote ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

<< Really, Lilly? Dan just woke up and that's the first thing on your mind?>> I would make me bite my phone if it weren't for the fact that I would seem crazy, how can she do this to him? ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Macie I totally forgot about this vote Dan My vote is always the deciding factor 👌 Mmmmmmh Mh Mh Mh… Richy 😩 Dan Macie stays Jessy 🙂 Macie Haha too bad for you Lilly Lilly Dan, fid you read the entire chat? Dan Of course Lilly Then why are you voting against me? Dan I really don't need the drama right now. I am going to explain it to you once I slept ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I watch as Lilly disconnects and I laugh. "That's what you get for being childish." I say, looking at my phone. "Who is childish?" Aiden asks me. "Nobody important." I stretch out in the chair, with a smile "How good it feels when things go well!" "I'm glad to see you happy." "You know? I feel that from now on everything can go well." I continue writing a few last words in the chat when Thomas connects and I continue with Aiden ", I think today is the big day, I feel it." "I can feel it too," he says with a laugh, "I think tomorrow will be my lucky day." Ah yes, tomorrow is the anniversary. I still don't know what to do, with all this research and the fact that I don't really feel like going to the party —and even less with Aiden—, I haven't even had time to choose a dress, would it be bad if I chose one that I already had instead to buy a new one? It's not like I have to buy one, I'm still saving for the one I saw.

Wow... Truly, my life was much more boring than before now that I'm back in action. I barely remembered all the things I did before the whole Hannah thing. The only problem is that years ago I didn't have as many responsibilities as I do now. "By the way, why does Lian look so happy?" "From what she has told me, Brian arrived last night, he brought up the day of his arrival so he could spend more time with her," I answered, watching from a distance how Lian emanates that aura of love everywhere. They rarely see each other, Brian's job keeps him busy all the time. "I hope they catch that guy as soon as possible so that she's happy then." He looks at Lian, who doesn't stop sending messages on the phone. "It's better when she's like this than when she's bossy and gossiping." "Yeah." I laugh, happy to see my friend happy. I remember when she said that she had dinner with him and that I was invited, but I think something happened because she didn't mention it again. Poor Brian, the guy they're looking for is really giving him a headache, he must be pretty good at running from the authorities. << Paranoid, worried, he doesn't say anything about himself, attentive to the computer... It would be too much of a coincidence, right? >> I try to push that thought away. It is not good for me to talk about this and my suspicions… "Well, I'm going to get ready, I have to do a live show soon." Aiden moves away a bit "Will you let me know then?" "Yeah, I'll see what I have tomorrow." I replied, putting on a fake smile.As he walks away, I get a text from Jake. Was he listening or did he just happen to talk to me after Aiden left?

As he walks away, I get a text from Jake. Was he listening or did he just happen to talk to me after Aiden left?

I go to the bathroom to write to him, locking myself in a cubicle. Every time I feel that everyone is aware of what I do with my phone. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Jake I came across something really interesting. Macie Perfect! I already wanted to know about some new clue! ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I’m very curious to know what the doctor has in store for us. I hope that clears up this mystery a bit. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Macie You haven't heard anything through the microphone by any chance, have you Jake I'm a hacker investigating a kidnapping. Not your private life. You don't have to worry about it. Macie That is a yes to what can be done? 🤔 Jake Hmm… I will leave that to your intuition, Detective Connors. ;) Macie Omg! You've done it! Jake Haha. No, not really, don't worry. But I did read the group chat. It's a good thing Dan decided you should stay. Macie Would you make another appearance if he votes against me? Jake No, I think they've learned the rest of the lesson by now. Macie It would have been great Jake Do not get used. Macie Not even a small apparition? 🥺 Jake … I guess so, just to be sure. Macie 🤭 Jake Well, enough talking, I'm entertaining you and it's not your break time yet. Macie Should I be honored that you know my schedule or scared that maybe I'm talking to a personal stalker? Jake I already told you: I pay attention to everything you do. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Is just me or is the temperature starting to rise? I just remembered how he looked at me when he told me. I can tell, but he's holding back for some reason. It's what hurts me the most, because it seems that he still doesn't trust me even though he said yes. I take a breath reading his words. I have to relax or when I get out of here, everyone will think badly of me. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Macie That's not an exact answer Jake I think it says it all. See you later. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“ ’I think it says it all’?“ I don't know whether to laugh sarcastically, feel happy to read them or it's just what he does, pay attention to everything I do just because I'm investigating. God Jake…Give me a reason so I don't think you're playing with my feelings to find Hannah, I'm only asking for that, then I'll continue to help you, but don't make me feel like I'm just a means to find her like the rest of the group.

I leave the cubicle after flushing, in case someone is there. I also don't want them to think badly of me. I could reach the floor with my eyes closed or to make it more secure, with a blindfold. My feet are already alone. Before entering, I see the cats standing in the street and I can't help but greet them. "You're here again, Salem and Mary." I nuzzle the black and gray and watch a white one approach. "You are new, right?" I ask when I take her in my arms "What do you think of 'Angela'? Because you look like a little angel." The cat meows and I leave her on the ground. I notice that they have a couple of plates with food and water and I look up. Could it have been Jake who left it here? "At least you're well taken care of." I tell them before entering the building.

I was going to knock but Jake opens the door for me again. I see that he has a smile. “Entertaining with the cats?” he asks me, letting me pass. "I couldn't help it, it's a good distraction trap" I commented, going through the same ritual each time I entered. ". Besides, there's a new cat, I was curious about her." "You mean Leia?" "'Leia'?" I arch an eyebrow, confused "Did you name her? He looked to the other side, embarrassed. "I remembered that you called the other two Salem and Mary" he answers awkwardly, ",I thought it wasn't bad that the cat also had one..." I let out a small laugh. Leia. All right. So I won't call her Angela. I really likes to see when he gets nervous, he is adorable, charming… And he is good with animals. I'm sure that if he left them that food, it's because they didn't stop meowing. “Okay, I'm ready to see what we have to see.” I say, placing my hands on my hips, almost in a heroic pose. “Rather, we have to listen.” Jake walks over to the computer and I sit in my chair. This time I want to be focused, this clue is something important, Hannah may have told Dr. Ulric something that can help us.

I tuck my hair behind my ears, like I want to have a good hearing of what I'm going to hear even if I don't have to. They are a thing that I have since I helped my father that I thought were not going to return. Jake clicks his mouse on it and the audio plays. "What would you like to talk about today, Hannah?" It's the doctor's voice. He sounds curious, as if Hannah had told him something earlier to come together for this conversation "Hannah, are you listening?" "Yes, I'm sorry, Dr. Barrett..." It's the first time I've heard Hannah's voice. I look at Jake to see his reaction. I can see him worried, rubbing his hands a lot impatiently. I put my hand close to his to try to calm him down. I smile at him pronouncing the word calm with my lips and he nods, lowering his hands to leave them on the table. But when I go to pull my hand away, he takes it, like he needs support. He squeezed it lovingly, continuing to listen to the audio. “No need to apologize, Hannah. We have all the time in the world,” he advises. "I just make to be sure that you are with me." That makes me think that she must have been absent that day, immersed in her thoughts. The next thing we hear makes us look at each other at Hannah's words. "I been follow." "You let told me something similar last time." I feel Jake's hand tighten around me. Although he doesn't show it, I see that he is angry. How long would he be following her? The doctor said that she had already told him, why didn't he do anything? "But this time it's different," Hannah defends herself. "I… I… I just know it. " I listen carefully to Hannah's voice. She seems nervous. Well, I can't blame her, although I wonder what the difference between then and now is. "Does this have something to do with your past? " Past? "Is this person watching you. This stranger... In any way connected to what happen that day in the forest? " I pay attention to every detail I hear. So according to the kidnapper, it's true, everything he show us is about something related to the forest. Hannah sighs before continuing. "I know you don't believe me." "I never said that." << She already told you once… >> “He was standing right there in the forest, watching us,” Hannah recounts. I still haven't let go of Jake's hand. ”I wasn't sure then, but I am today.” Isn't she referring to The Man Without a Face? I mean… He's a legend, so he must be the one behind Hannah's disappearance. "I think it would be a good idea if you tell me what happened back then in the forest." Barret asks. "I have ready told you a hundred times." Hannah's voice sounds tired here, like she's sick of saying the same thing all the time. There doesn't seem to be any new detail, maybe? "But maybe you are going to tell me the story differently today" from the doctor's words, I think they haven't made any progress in that story, maybe there's something Hannah keeps to herself? ”Hannah, you guys were children-” "Jennifer was the same age as I am today." Hearing those words, the image of a cold Hannah appears in my head, compared to the photo I had found of her, smiling. A Hannah who had been through something difficult, but she smiled. Only maybe it wasn't a real smile. She was hiding her suffering "did you know that?" "I think we should take a little break." Barret answers nervously. The audio ends and I notice Jake lost in thought of him after the audio. I bite my lip, thinking of what to say so he'll relax first. When he gets tense, he completely changes and shuts down. I need him calm. "You were able to find something too for a change." I tell him, trying to find some relaxation before starting work. Jake looks at me confused. "That isn’t the first time that I am finding something?" He asks me as he looks at me with a frown. "Either way, you haven’t found your sense of humor yet." I teased, with a mischievous smile. His serious expression doesn't change. "Do you know what having fun looks like?" "At least I've heard of it." To my surprise, he sticks his tongue out at me. I answer him doing the same and he laughs.

I hear him let out a more relaxed sigh and until now I haven't realized that we were still holding hands. We separate our hands and both focus. "Enough funny business," he clears his throat, settling back in his chair. "Can we talk about the voice recording?" “Sure.” I reply, feeling much better to see Jake calm down. "Wait, I'm going to send it to you so you can keep it in your files." He moves the mouse quickly and I immediately receive the audio. Perfect because I'd like to get to hear it later in case we find out anything regarding the details. "Okay, let's get started: Hannah was being stalked. " "And she had told the doctor about it once before." I remember from the beginning, how angry he made me feel. "That's true." Jake stands up at the same time as me, to point on the board. "I think it’s safe that this stalker later turned into her kidnapper." "That seems likely. The doctor didn’t seem to believe her." I glance at Jake, who seems upset with what he said. I also imagine that he didn’t like his words. "Yes, even if he didn't specifically admit it." I look down at his hand, which he squeezes tightly again. "Hannah was sure, that he didn't believe her that she was being stalked" I can see how worried he is about Hannah. This time I put my feelings aside, we have something important on our hands to be jealous of Hannah now. "The doctor asked her, if the stalker had something to do with the incident back then" while he is narrating, I write down everything under Hannah's photo "Do you still remember her diary find from Hannah's cloud?" "Sure I remember." "Very good." He stands next to me and crosses his arms. "One of the things we found out that Hannah was visiting a family and that she had feelings of guilt towards that family." I remember the note. She had gone to talk to a woman named Iris, for something we don't know yet. "You think that there is a connection there?" I ask, suspecting the same thing. "Yes." I see him squeeze his arm. I thought that he would be fine. It's proving too hard for him. "It appears that in both cases the incident was weighing very heavy on Hannah’s mind.” I notice hardness in his tone of voice when he says the word 'heavy'. "To the point, where she felt that she had to talk to a psychiatrist, who, as we found out some time ago, prescribed her antidepressants." "This incident is the same." "Exactly." He looks at me and although I try to hide it, I see too many emotions in him. Analyzing gives me a headache, there are too many things that I can't follow" What else did we find out?"

I put my hand to my head, remembering everything I've heard. “Hannah was still a child during the first” I says, looking at him determinedly. ”The doctor is even referring to children.” "Really?" It seems that at some point Jake must have been thinking of something else when he heard the audio. "Hold on." He quickly goes to the computer and plays the audio, moving forward until he hears Ulric's words. "You are right! So there was at least one other child.” He looks up from the computer, looking at me. "I hadn't noticed me." "Where would you be without me?" I ask with a smile. "Definitely not as far as I am now." he incorporates, approaching again. "Do you want to listen to the voice recording one more time?" "No, that’s not necessary. But thank you." I'm sure the distraction was listening to Hannah tell her story. Maybe she never told him any of this. "Maybe we can find out who the other child was." "That would be very good." He scratches the back of his neck, looking at the whiteboard. "However, currently I can’t think of a way to make that happen." "I could ask the others?" I suggest." Maybe it was one of them." “No, it would only lead to unnecessary questions." “You're right." They would want to know how we discovered this information and maybe Lilly would accuse us even more, which wouldn't be good for us. Enough with her stupid voting. "Give me a little time, okay? I'll try to think of another way that we shouldn't directly involve others" He sounds a little stressed. We've gotten too much information today. "Ok, back to the voice recording. Again it is the forest is playing a primary role" I point it under Hannah, threading it with the video of the kidnapper "Have you noticed?" "Yes, of course. " "And that's also where Hannah’s stalker first appeared." Again, I erase and point as he talks. "In the end Hannah suddenly mentions someone with the name of Jennifer." I put Jennifer's name under Iris's, on the side of people we don't have information on yet. “She is definitely not the second child” I say, remembering the audio. ". According to Hannah she was already an adult back. " “You paid good attention." We move away from the whiteboard, reading all the information we have so far. I think we've gotten too much information out today for future clues. “Macie?” Hearing his broken voice calling my name makes my soul break into thousands of little pieces. I had never heard that tone of voice from him before. "Do you think that Hannah did something terrible?" I try to remember everything we have collected. To my point of view, it’s seemed like she felt guilty. "I am afraid so, yes" I reply, but in a whisper. I feel Jake's hand reaching for mine, holding it tight. I feel that he seeks support. I'm the only one who can give it to him. I accept his hand and try to calm him down, tracing circles on his back with my thumb. Or I try, because his hand is bigger than mine, I almost didn't get to do it. "At least we have a name now." I answered, a little tired from all we've accomplished. The truth is that after obtaining this information I don't feel like going back to work. I want to be able to reanalyze all the information and stay a little longer. "Yes." Slowly, he walks away from me, already calmer. "You can relax a little bit. I have asked a lot of you recently. " I keep looking at him. He should rest. Whenever I look at him he seems much more tired than before. I don't think he should worry about me, but about himself. "When did you last sleep?" I ask, approaching him with concern. I hear him let out a slack laugh. "Last fall?" He answers looking into my eyes. He seems to be joking, but he is serious. Since we've now stopped talking about the research, my brain goes back into relaxation mode.

I still feel the warmth of his in my hand. We are too close. So close that I hope he can't hear my heart beating so fast. "Hey Jake..." I don't realize my voice sounds sad. The thought of him leaving as soon as he finds Hannah terrifies me. "Yes Macie?" Jake's voice is soft, calm. He must have noticed. I takes his hand and he corresponds. We intertwine our fingers and my whole body trembles. "I…" I moisten my lips, they're dry from nerves, "I don't want you to go." I finally admit, almost begging him. I see how he starts to blush. I see him restless, trying to figure out what to say. I bring my free hand to his face, finally daring to touch it. This time he doesn't pull me away from him, but he does look at me with desire. "What are you afraid of?" I ask him and I see that he doubts. He takes his free hand to mine, caressing it lovingly. We both have high body temperatures, and the silence in the room makes it easier to hear our breathing. “Jake, I really meant it” I start to say, not hiding “, I like you." In his green eyes I see a bit of hope that I didn't see before. <<Please tell me something, anything.>> Jake sighs, relaxing his shoulders. “Do you think I don’t feel the same?" Hearing him say those words, my body trembles more. Good thing he has me holding my hands, because I would drop myself right now. "Before you leave, I just want to hold you and stay with me." I slowly lean back as he walks towards me, until I touch my back against the wall. It's as if he knew I was going to fall, is it so noticeable that I'm shaking? ". Throughout the day I think about you a lot more than I would like, reproducing all yours smiles in my head despite all the times I have treated you coldly, you keep smiling at me. I open up to you, even though I usually never give anyone any information about myself.” He leans his forehead against mine. It's hot. "My behavior towards you just doesn’t make any sense." "It doesn't have to make sense if it feels right." It's hard for me to speak after his words. Jake finally manages to touch my face, caressing me gently. I closed my eyes as I felt his skin against mine. He even goes so far as to brush his thumb across my lips.

By the time I feel his lips close to mine, he jerks away letting out a throaty growl. He turns his back to me leaning on the table. I approach him wanting to put a hand on his shoulder. "But it isn’t right!" He yells and I get scared, throwing myself back "And it's dangerous" he turns and I see his eyes red, tired ", for me just much as for you." "You can't decide if it's dangerous when I can't say in my decision!" I scream too, but not angry, just confused "Tell me and maybe we can solve it" I approach him placing my hands on his face, caressing him carefully ". Together." Jake runs his tongue over his lips, hesitating. He takes my hands and lowers them, then takes my things and puts them in my arms. "That's the problem, I don't want you to end up suffering because of me." He pushes me towards the door and opens it. "I am sorry Macie." He pulls me off the floor and I start to cry. "Jake," I knock on the door, waiting for him to open. "Jake please, tell me what it is, I'm not going to judge you." I call again louder "Jake! I just want to help you! Please open me!" I've seen it in his eyes when he kicked me out: fear, despair, tiredness... And above all, worry. "Why don't you trust me?" I don't want to believe that I'm still talking to a door, I want to believe that he's listening to me. This is not going to work is it? No matter how much I beg him, he won't come out.

I turn around, wiping away tears.

It really hurts not to understand the reason for his behavior. I want to understand him. Knowing what is so dangerous that we are not together. But he hasn't even let me decide if it would really be dangerous for me or not.

I go downstairs while putting on my sweatshirt. Shit… I have to get back to work now… And like this… "Dangerous..." I pronounce in a low voice "It's dangerous..." It is then when I stop crying and let the anger flood me. What is dangerous? Why? Why does he say it? He hasn't let me know the truth! How will I know that he is dangerous?! Even though I still like him—much to my chagrin—I can't help feeling angry now. I pick up my phone and instead of texting to avoid Jake seeing it, I make a phone call. He picks it up on the second ring. "Hey Aiden, can we talk about the party tomorrow when I get to work?" *Jake POV*

I hear Macie from behind the door, crying and pleading. I control myself for not opening it and apologize. I have to at least make her hate me so that she only thinks that the only thing that matters in our relationship is Hannah's investigation. "Why don't you trust me?" I hear her say, still crying. I do trust you Macie, I really do. And it is precisely for this reason that I am taking you away from me, so that the same thing that happened to me does not happen to you. So you don't run my same fate so unfortunate. Because if something happens to you, then I couldn't forgive myself for getting you into my troubles.

As soon as I hear her walk away, I can finally let the anger I feel out of me. “SHIT!” I slam my chair against the wall, angry with myself. I know this is better for both of us, even if I don't feel proud. I want to put her safety first, make her forget about me, even if I can't. I know I've been a jerk after coming out, but before my safety comes Macie's.

I lean against the wall sliding down it until I sit on the floor. Resting my hands on my head. Powerless. “Forgive me... Someday you'll understand... I promise you Macie... But please... For now I need you to hate me like I hate myself right now...”

Chapter 17

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