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#im cooking with gas i fear
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succession season 1 episode 7 // the sopranos season 6 episode 11
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ilearntocook · 9 days
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Lemon pepper chicken basted with green onions in butter with sauteed snap peas and quinoa
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backsack · 1 month
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i was disproportionately scared of a lot of things as a kid but as i cook this burger im thinking about how my weirdest childhood fear was definitely carbon monoxide (and odorless gasses in general). at the same time however i'm shocked it's not a more common fear because it's so freaky??? i still get kinda scared i'm about to get gas exploded whenever the stove doesn't turn on first try
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csamhp · 5 days
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Pelipper Mail - Birthday Gifts for Polaris!!!!
A rather large package arrives. opening it reveals a bunch of gifts.
[The first is a rather large cake in a brown box. It. Looks cursed to say the very least.
The icing is menacingly red and clumpy and written on the top in blue is "Happy birth" with the rest of the word smudged off in travel. On top of the cake are the number candles 36. Pink sprinkles have been put atop it to make it look less menacing. Upon slicing and eating the cake you would find it actually was perfectly cooked and mixed, the decoration had just gone awry.
The first proper present is a landyard with a bunch of hisuian pokemon on it, and some keychains and badges already attached to it.
The second is a thick set of pink gloves with purple accents, and a matching pink gas mask, custom made to fit polaris.
The third is a bunch of Pochacco from Sanrio merch. Including a bracelet, a fluffy hat, and a plushie, along with a bunch of trinkets from a familiar arcade.
The fourth is some books, a book of poems, written in ancient Sinnohian, a childrens book about two cyndaquil going on adventures and a book on enamourus.
The fifth is a bunch of johtoian candy and parischu themed beanie with big blue spikes.
And last, is a bunch of letters]
"Happy birthday!!!
We thought we would all send our stuff together to save on shipping, but I think you can guess who sent what!
Sorry the cakes a disaster, we were going for good but ended up with memeably bad. We couldn't find a 27 candle, so congratulations, you're 36 now! I'll let everyone write their peices now (making them change colours to seperate whose who)
I notice you're always loosing your things, I hope the landyard helped. Sprite helped me decorate it. Please take care of yourself. -Beedrill
Helloo proffesorr!!!! Hope you like the glvoes!! I know you're immune to poison but i think they could still be helpful handling the quilfish at the santurary (they ouch) also im purple because Tari "bagsed" blue smh
-Casey (^._.^)
Happy birthday Proffesor Polaris!! I really like sanrio- idk if you do, but you've always reminded me of Pochacco and, everyone else has matching bracelets for the character I've assigned them so I thought it would be cute idk
Much love Tari xoxo
I thought of you when at a bookstore. I also have something else to show you when you're home. I love you Polaris.
Delta.
Finally !! Happy birthday from your son, who loves you very much. I've been looking at games to play when you get back home, 'n a couple have caught my fancy. 'm sorry. for messing things up. But. 'm. I hope I can be better for you.
You're amazing bubs.
-Sprite Crimson Chroma :>"
i dont...know what to say. i had completely forgotten today was my birthday, but you all remembered. i feel very loved. thank you so much. i'm going to write a separate bit for all of you.
first of all, the cake made me laugh. congrats i am now a decade older. oh my. it tasted wonderful, despite its appearance.
Beedrill: The lanyard is lovely and very cute. I've put my keys on them, and as such will never lose them again. It's a very thoughtful gift. The keychains and pins are very sweet as well.
Casey: The gloves are very nice. I was thinking about buying a pair for myself and you beat me to it, so thank you very much. The pink gas mask is also very cool, and I'm sure it'll do me well when we inevitably introduce the stunky line to the sanctuary haha.
Tari: I remember your sanrio critters. You made Delta Kuromi i think. Pochacco is a very cute little character. I think you picked well for me. I'm wearing the bracelet on my lanyard, as I fear it would snap on my working hands. The plushie and the hat are very very soft and nice. And the arcade trinkets are wonderful, they will go straight on the shelf once im home
Delta: I've never seen nor heard of this book of poems. It's incredible Delta. And the cyndaquil book- I had a very similar one growing up. It's gone now of course but- You act like you aren't good at giving gifts but you are very adept. And the Enamorus book is also wonderful. They will give me wonderful things to read on the plane home. And of course a secret other thing. I shouldn't be surprised haha.
Sprite: Hello, my wonderful, loving son. I miss you so much. The beanie is very cute. There is a pachirisu litter who came into the sanctuary. They are named after stars. One of them is very sweet and a bit too comfortable with people. Will you laugh at me if I come home with her? She comes to my window and she makes me smile. I hope I can play video games with you soon.
And for all of you: I love you all so much, and I miss you dearly. I'm trying to come home as soon as I can, but I barely have the energy to get out of bed, let along push my wheelchair without- him. (Beedrill: I promise Bird is being well taken care of. She still sleeps by me and I read her bedtime stories.) I promise I will come home as soon as I am feeling better. I promise. I love you all so so very much.
Oh. and Skie wanted to attach this video for you.
[A video is attached.]
[Watch it?]
[Skie and Bird are walking in front of the camera, Skie seems excited while Bird seems a bit nervous. Skie is holding....what could be considered a cake, with the candles "36" lit up. Bird gently pushes open a door to what must be Polaris' room. The lights are off, and Skie quickly turns the light switch on.
Polaris grumbles from their bed, and Skie snorts, gently ushering Bird over to go properly wake up Polaris. Bird trots over to the bed, gently and shyly nudging at Polaris to get up. They sit up, rubbing their eyes and murmuring something unintelligible to Bird, who gives them a shy smile, and points to Skie.
(Polaris doesn't look well. Their hair is messy and tangled, and there are obvious tear streaks on their face.)
Skie counts to three, and xe and Bird break out in what seems to be a rendition of Happy Birthday in Ancient Sinnohian. Polaris' eyes go wide as they realize what's happening, and a small smile crosses their face. As the song ends, Skie brings the cake over to Polaris' lap, and Polaris lets Bird blow out the candles for them. Skie turns and gives a big grin and thumbs up to the camera.
The video ends.]
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reaganseyebags · 2 years
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reagan x non-human reader? (could be a wolfperson, some type of alien, anything - up to you)
I love werewolfs so we are doing to wolf person one ;)
//SFW
Ahhhh ok this is so exciting to write actually- :D
So you are a wolf hybrid. Tall, hairy, grey fur,with tail, long ears, claws and fangs, muzzle. You also have a good sense of smell and hearing basically irl furry
I feel like Reagan is a cat person but idk there is just something about the way you wag your tail every time you see her.
You guys just naturally spilled together.
When you guys were on the first day your tail was swollen from how hard you wagged it <3
She thinks the tail thing is really cute actually. Makes her day every time :3
You help her in her lab, cuz I can imagine you are pretty strong, so handling some heavy metal parts of her machines and stuff like that.
Cuz you have good sense of smell you probably can warn her when a toxic gas is leaking.
Also you are scary enough to make any asshole run away in fear. She just likes keeping you around. Especially Rand
Now the the domestic shit-
She loves to cuddle you cuz you are so big and fluffy and warm <333
Her laying on a couch with you on top?? Her fave thing to do
I’m assuming you like head pats cuz let’s be honest who doesn’t and you are a wolf- so a lot like of petting and scratching <3
“Who is a good boy/girl? You are <33”
And like- every time she’s stressed she just calls you like: “come her or I will beat up someone in cold blood” just so she can pet you and relax
I can’t really describe it but when dogs are so excited they tap their feet??? Yeah you do that.
She thinks it’s extra adorable when you stick your long tongue out, especially on hot days.
Speaking of hot days, she prepares a cold bath for you so you don’t overheat <3
She likes to play with your tail, it’s extra fluffy I don’t blame her.
I also imagine she would study your anatomy, like checking your claws, trying how sharp your fangs are.
You are probably scared of thunder so she would totally comfort you! Staying close to you and whispering some comforting words
On the other hand, whatever she’s stressed, just hold on your chest for a bit or lie down next to her<3
YOU HOWL ON THE FULL MOON AND SHE THINKS ITS SO CUTE <333 she mind howl with you
You eat ALOT so she’s refusing to cook for you I’m sorry </3 but whenever you are cooking, she just lays on your back cuddling you
She’s on letting you stay in the bed when you are wet cuz she hates the smell of wet dog.
She has a bag of beef jerky just on her 24/7 just in case you would need a snack.
Sometimes you guys go camping and she let’s you hunt in the forests
Overall, having a giant wolf in her apartment has its pros and cons buts she loves you unconditionally <3 she’s very royal, just like a wolf
IM TURNING ALL INTO FURRIES HAHAHA. But seriously this was very fun to write! Thank you for your request! You guys have such amazing ideas!
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madame-fear · 2 years
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Yes please you choose the villain name im too bad at choosing names for characters wahh😔😔😔
Great!! Hope you like the villain name I choose because I'd personally use it hihih🥰 Anyways!! Enjoy your reading, anon💖
(y/c/n) = your childs name
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The Nightcrow | Gotham!Dad!Jonathan Crane x Fem!Reader
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Everyone was enjoying a sweet, family Saturday night moment. You and your husband, Jonathan, were talking together in the kitchen while you cooked dinner, since you were the one who knew how to make several things and liked cooking, anyways. He just talked to you and passed you all the ingredients you needed.
Meanwhile, the child you and Jonathan had 2 years and a half ago, was laying on his/her stomach in the rug that was in the living room. He/she entertained him/herself playing with toys and drawing whatever crossed his/her mind.
You were now laughing at a silly comment that Jonathan made. "Oh, shut." You said rolling your eyes, as you playfully hitted his shoulder, making him giggle. "Oh, come on, but you thought it wss fun-" he was interrupted, as he felt his pant being tugged. He looked down, and he saw (Y/C/N) staring at him with big adorable eyes and tugging his pants to catch his attention.
"Hi, love! What are you doing here, baby?" He lifted the child from the floor and carried him/her in his arms. "Daddy, mummy, I wanted to tell you something..." your child began saying with his/her baby voice. "What is it, prince/princess?" You stood next to your husband, and played with your child's soft hair, as you paid attention to what he/she had to say to you. "I already know what I want to be when I grow up...I want to be The Nightcrow!"
The sudden comment from your child made you two look at each other for a brief moment, then look back at him/her. "T-The Nightcrow? What's that, baby?" Your husband asked him/her, not wanting to believe that it was indeed what he was thinking it was. "I want to be a temible super villain like mummy and you!"
His worst fear was ironically facing him now. He never wanted to involve you or your child in his villain missions. First, you two had been together since his teenage years before and after Scarecrow. You always insisted on helping him out, which he refused out of fear of you getting hurt or worse, getting killed because of him. Eventually, seeing that you were extremely good with helping him with his fear gas and at defending yourself and badassly kicking asses, he gave up and made a special suit just for you. Since then, you became not only his girlfriend and now wife, but also his partner in crime.
But, with his child, it was a whole different topic. He is supposed to take care of him/her and be an example for his future choices. He couldn't allow to risk his baby boy/girl's life just because he/she wants to be like his/her parents. Especially, because he/she was THE child of The Scarecrow, a temible well-known villain in Gotham.
"Baby, your mummy and I do this for particular reasons you'll understand when you grow up. We already know how to defend ourselves, but this is a very risky job for you to do, you know that?" He said trying to calm himself from the nervousness that those thoughts brought him. "Mummy and daddy loves you really much. You still have a long life ahead, you can be whatever you want."
You noticed he was nervous, so you rubbed his back. "But daddy! I'll know how to defend myself too!" He/she said, trying to defend her idea of becoming a future villain in Gotham. "Of course you'll do, but it's better for you to think about what you really want for your life, yes?" He kissed your childs cheek in a sweet way. "Please, understand us. You do your life, and when you're big enough, we'll discuss what you can do in your life." He stroked (Y/C/N) cheeks softly with the back of his index finger. It was like your child was hypnotised by his blue, deep eyes, and nodded.
"Okay daddy! We'll see..." Your child said mischeviously giggling, kissing his/her daddy's cheek and returning to the floor. As he/she ran back to where he/she was playing. As your child went back playing, he just stared deeply at him/her.
"The Nightcrow..." you gently whispered at him, "It has a nice ring to it." He looked at you, and smirked. "It does, but he/she can't get involved in it...yet. He/she still has to grow up." You nodded at his comment and you went back to stirring the food at a slow temperature. "Obviously, but...can you imagine? He/she is nearly 3 years old and already looks a lot like his/her dad. The fearsome Nightcrow, following his/her dads legacy."
Your comment made him think about it...about the future. About your childs personality when he/she grew up, and how would it be if he/she indeed became a villain. The thought of his offspring following his/her dad steps made his heart warm. He preferred not to involve (Y/C/N), but if he/she was sure about his/her decision, he would make sure he/she is respected in Gotham.
"We'll see if when he/she grows up and tell her why we do the things we do, he/she still wants to be part of it. If he/she does, I think we'd win the title of The Corvid Family, wouldn't we?" You said, trying to cheer him up, noting that he was thoughtful, and you noticed the previous nervousness he had fading away. He now fully smiled at you, and chuckled.
"The Corvid Family...it doesn't sound so bad, after all." Those words sloppily escaped from his mouth, as he thought about the chaos you three would provoke in Gotham. He couldn't be any happier with the family he had.
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carltonlassie · 10 months
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Lol omg stop having so much thoughts
It's like im dead in the center of a busy intersection of millions of different feelings zooming past by. A friend from college who's done essentially the same thing I've done in college has won an emmy working in the vfx industry. It makes absolutely no sense to compare and wonder if i could have been living a different life too, doing something more 'cool'? I always found my choices to be second rate, doubting whether I could have shot for something bigger than this. But again, I end up being thankful for the choices i made compared to my friends who ended up working for companies that people gossip about and end up in lawsuits? It really never goes anywhere comparing myself to others but I always find myself doing it. Where does it all lead to, though? I mean, why does it matter. My aunt who i took for granted is also getting old and ill. how does lung cancer even happen to someone who doesn't smoke? My uncle quit smoking back in the 90s, but apparently, cooking in front of gas stoves your entire life can cause cancer too. Weird. So, do you try to cook only on those induction ovens? But did you know that diet coke also causes cancer? Everything is cancerous in California though. What do we do? Do we let fear and doubt take over, or do we strive to climb higher or explore wider or connect deeper or plan farther? Or do we stay here and try to feel content with the present. Nobody has to do anything with their life, sure, but, we don't end up doing nothing with our life most of the times. Where's the balance? I hate that there's no easy answer.
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dhikrbum · 2 years
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I’m a poser: A thesis statement
Im an absolute fucking wannabe, I want to make that clear. Like I listen to punk music, but I listen to every music and if I hung around the DIY scene and shit it was as the mostly normy friend who hung out in a corner couldn’t understand the band and drank jack and cokes while the real punks slammed and shook and rattled in the pit. I was there when shit got thrown at cops, or gas stations got trashed, but I was the dude driving the car and telling everyone to chill and that we have to get out of here or we’ll get in trouble. I didn’t even get addicted in a cool way, more of a strung out alchy no one wanted to be around them a cool fun party dude.
I tried to get married and settle down and the most punk thing about me is that when it blew up in my face I got some tattoos and put together a battle vest to wear my heart on my sleeve because the last time I had my own personality those are the things I wanted to do. I go around in safety pinned patches and ripped up band tees and faded jeans now but I’m going grey dude, I’m not fooling anyone but who the fuck cares? I like the look, it feels like me. Fuck you I don’t gotta justify myself, but I don’t want anyone to think I’m deluded either. I’m a poser, whatever I’m still happy to be here
I’m a wannabe Muslim too, like the total cliche where I read The Taqwacores and some Rumi and House of Birds, watched a few YouTube videos, and took my Shahada. Now I’m a white boy walking around in a Kufi, and when I manage to pray it’s alongside the same two rakat YouTube video I found after googling “how to pray salat”. I ended up cooking myself spam and eggs this morning because “Eh I gotta get it out of the kitchen” and I’m a fag who lives with his boyfriend and has no intention of going celibate.
But I guess here’s the thing, I love *being* Muslim. When I took the Shahada and a whole room of complete strangers rushed in to hug me like I didn’t look like a bum who wandered in off the street, when I read the Quran and say my prayers I feel right. And I’m an addict, I know when I’m just chasing dopamine. This feels like love, and the real kinda love I didn’t know till I met my boyfriend. And so what if I’m lousy, maybe I’ll get better? Maybe I don’t have to? I haven’t figured it out yet. But I keep reading the same bit of the second Surah 2:62:
إِنَّ ٱلَّذِينَ ءَامَنُوا۟ وَٱلَّذِينَ هَادُوا۟ وَٱلنَّصَـٰرَىٰ وَٱلصَّـٰبِـِٔينَ مَنْ ءَامَنَ بِٱللَّهِ وَٱلْيَوْمِ ٱلْـَٔاخِرِ وَعَمِلَ صَـٰلِحًا فَلَهُمْ أَجْرُهُمْ عِندَ رَبِّهِمْ وَلَا خَوْفٌ عَلَيْهِمْ وَلَا هُمْ يَحْزَنُونَ Indeed, the believers, Jews, Christians, and Sabians1—whoever ˹truly˺ believes in Allah and the Last Day and does good will have their reward with their Lord. And there will be no fear for them, nor will they grieve.2
I dunno it just seems like maybe Allah in his own way loves posers too. So yeah I’m posting this and pinning this because I want to make clear to anyone who finds this blog that I’m not claiming to be anything cool, or pious. I’m some dude aping Michael Muhammad Knight who’s never gonna be a badass punk or manage strict religious living. I’m a bum who does Dhikr and reads beat poetry and sufi poetry with the same reverence. Who’s trying to pray five times a day and doing okay at it. Who’s trying to figure out what punk means when you’re 31 and the whole world seems like it’s coming apart and I’ve decided to write about it sometimes.
I think thesis statements are important and I think the Quran has the best one. Maybe we begin by praising Allah in their mercy because in the end even the Wahabis and the Twelvers are posers. Maybe the strict Imam at your Masjid telling you to get rid of your dog is a wannabe. Maybe Allah knows we’re all kinda cringe and gave us the Fatiha to remember that they love us anyway.
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marvels-writings · 3 years
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maybe reader and yelena or nat getting in a fight and r trying to make it up to her by cooking her favorite food but sorta fails and y or n is like “did you make that” and r is like 😟
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Fights
Fic Weeks Masterlist
Natasha Romanoff Masterlist
Word Count: 601
A/N: There’s wayy too many yelena requests in my inbox (not that im complaining) but i missed Nat
Scents and aromas from the dish in front of you wafted through the room. Soft music played in the background, the dim light from the drowning sun leaking into the kitchen. The smells from the stove didn't seem right, always too spicy or too bitter.
A final sigh left your lips before you switched the gas off, admitting to your failure. It had been a last attempt to lift Natasha's spirits after her fight with you. The memory of it still fresh in your mind as you began cleaning up the kitchen. It was over something trivial, a reckless move Natasha had made on a mission, but your worry escalated it into a fight.
You never meant for your worry to overpower her judgment, it was just, hard for you to not be concerned when she risked her life as if it meant nothing. You hated how little she cared for her own life, you hated how frequently she took missions to clear her ledger, to look at herself as something except for a monster.
Your words could only do so much, this time your words hurt her. Your accusations and your anger causing her to leave the room in a hurry, needing time for herself. You'd waited for her to come back for almost an hour before deciding to make something for her. It had been almost 3 hours since she'd been gone, your worry was beginning to come back to you.
"What's that?"
Jumping in surprise, you turned around to see Natasha curiously looking at the dish on the stove. She wasn't holding any of the anger from before, merely staring at what you'd made. A frown crossed her face as she examined it, reaching out to taste it, then thinking better of it.
"Beef stroganoff, I think." You answered, moving away meekly from the dish. The frown remained on her face as she looked it over, taking the spoon to taste it. You watched intently for her reaction, receiving nothing but a carefully blank look.
"Did you make that?" Natasha asked, disdain clear in her voice. She moved away from the dish, nose wrinkling at the taste. You nodded, your eyebrows furrowing as you looked towards your feet. The dish wasn't that good, you knew that, but hearing it from her made it worse.
"It was meant to be an apology dish." You commented, fidgeting with your fingers as you looked away from her. Your distracted gaze forced you to miss the regret crossing across her face before she walked towards you. Her hands slid into yours, looking at you apologetically.
"I should be the one making an apology dish." She murmured, regret filling her features. She blinked in surprise when you looked up at her incredulously. Both of you thought the blame of the fight was on yourselves, never wanting to blame the other for your flaws.
"I'm the one that-"
"I'm the one not used to having someone care for me as you do." Natasha cut you off, not wanting to hear why you blamed yourself. She'd had enough time to think of an apology on her walk, practicing it in any mirror she could find. She wasn't going to let you finish your reasons, not when she knew the fight was her fault, not when you'd already put in the effort to make it up to her.
Yet she found herself not needing an elaborate apology, you held her so close that she would never fear losing you again. She loved you too much to let you go, let alone let petty fights hurt you.
A/N: Tell me what you think!!
Tag List:
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iwilltranscend · 2 years
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through Osmosis i think one of ur characters is named vapor n i also think there's one named oliver (??). maybe one that starts with a C too, i think?? please tell me about them!!! what's their favorite food!! they're darkest fears??? what would they do on a sunday morning when they had nothing else to do. im already in love with them and i know nothing, please share 🥺 -ise
this is. probably going to be long so im going to pop it under a read more skfjslfld
so vapor, oliver, and clemency are the little bastards who are like. at the forefront of my mind most often dklsjdf
vapor is my pc in the dnd campaign im in right now, oliver is an idea for a motw pc, and clemency is the next dnd pc i wanna play bc i came up with the idea for them from a twitter meme and i havent stopped thinking about them since (some aspects are a little less fleshed out but,,, here's a start!!)
Vapor's a funky little water genasi rogue with all the classic rogue grimdark backstory stuff because im highly unoriginal <3 but she's a pretty basic gal. I think a favorite food of hers would be nice, hearty homecooked stews her mother used to make or one of the ones that the healer she apprenticed with used to make. darkest fears would probably be getting close to people again only to have something bad happen to them (because that seems to be the single common thread in her intrapersonal relationships). Also i think just. just allowing people she cares about to die? like she couldn't ever do anything about it in the past but if she were to be in that position again and she still couldn't save someone? it's a terrifying thought. as for lazy sunday plans, i think she'd be pretty content to hang with the rest of the party! probably listen to our 16 year old artificer come up with his newest invention, play some card games with the other rogue and the druid, or listen to stories from everyone else's previous adventures (while not giving up many of her own).
clemency is really cool, I have kinda imagined them to be a tiefling death domain cleric who's a real stickler about not like. messing with that (that's right, this cleric is not going to be doing any revivify so Do Not Ever Ask Them) (listen listen listen three guesses as to who served as a bit of inspiration for them and i don't think i need to let you know their deity of choice). I think they grew up in a pretty secluded enclave and are kind of being told to go out into the world before settling back down in the enclave's power structure. I think there's this one hand pie that someone in the enclave makes and it's so hearty and savory and flakey that they do kinda try to make it on their own to little success. A big fear of theirs is simply not being seen as worthy for their spot or to be favored by their goddess. Their entire life has been nothing but dedication to order so if they were to suddenly feel as though they couldn't maintain it any longer, their sense of self would be gone. I think lazy sunday's are kind of a novel thing for them but I imagine they'd like to go for some nice walks, hang out in sun, perhaps sit by the water's edge and skip a stone or two.
oliver is my beloved little bastard who i think has become really inspired by some of the pathetic fellas i wanna keep in my tote bag. his playbook would likely be the flake, leaning heavily in on some of the more unhinged aspects. I totally do see him as a generally mild mannered like. high school science teacher (biology or maybe chemistry?) and just kinda gets walked all over by his students but when he goes home, he is certain he is on the edge of a kind of breakthrough. he's determined to unlock the secrets of the universe, life, and death. i think his diet is real bad. like he lives on black coffee and gas station snacks [no time to cook, too busy] but he does love a good cinnamon roll [used to be a big treat on the mornings of big holidays]. he fears death so completely and terribly. fears wasting away into oblivion and obscurity and he is going to do everything in his power to prevent that. any means necessary. and i do genuinely believe he doesn't allow himself time to rest [though he does love reading a good story every now and then. I think he's a big bradbury and lovecraft fan. of course.]
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curious-menace · 3 years
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Arkham Scarecrow SFW Alphabet
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im really enjoying writing arkham scarecrow. maybe ill do something similar to my random riddler headcanons posts with some scarecrows
long post under the cut
 A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)
Uhhh, the short answer is no. Jonathan is almost wholly incapable of what most people would term “affection”. His idea of loving is not using you for his experiments, only giving you small doses to build up your immunity( not that that will stop him from enjoying watching you panic). Jonathan leans heavily on gifts and words of affirmation as his language of love ( assuming he can even feel that emotion). He calls you  “my dear”  and “my darling” or once “my pumpkin” if he had too much to drink. 
B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)
Jonathan would make a good friend if he could ever be wrangled into admitting it. He’s a complete bastard, but he's a loyal bastard. He always goes above and beyond for his friends but it's always in a “aw shit. My favorite idiot needs help AGAIN?!” begrudging , kind of way. You probably met in university/college and if you've stuck with him this long he’d be hard to get rid of.
C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)
He never asks for cuddles and is pretty touch adversed as a rule. Sometimes though, He simply plonks himself in your space and expects you to know what he wants. Usually it's gentle backrubs/strokes like you would with a child. Sometimes he just wants your warmth to sooth his aching body. He’s heavier than he was in Arkham asylum but still very underweight so you shouldn't have too much trouble moving him into a comfortable position.
D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)
Absolutely not. I'm not convinced this man owns more than his books and the burlap sack on his back ,never mind a home. He has plans to take the cloudburst on tour, to go cross country and then across the world spreading fear. That would be a little difficult if he had gotham mortgage sending him nasty emails every other day about missed payments. While he can cook and clean, I doubt you'd want to eat anything he made. Ignoring his filthy hands, he's probably laced it with fear toxin or a lethal amount of hot sauce.
His homemade cleaning chemicals are pretty stellar mind you. They can get blood, piss or tears out of anything. 
E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)
Scarecrow really is a ride or die kinda guy. If you've wormed your way into his life then he’s going to do literally everything and anything to keep you in it. He’s not above making you dependent on him for safety just to keep you around longer. He’s not a total monster to the people he cares about mind you. If you really didn't want to be with him, he’d let you go….eventually.
I'm not sure he fully understands the concept of a “breakup”on his end. He gets that you don't see eachother anymore but I don't think he quite grasps that it's not because one party is dead. There's a 99% chance he’ll use you for his fear toxin experiments as a way of kicking you to the kerb. If you wake up in a ditch with a text that says “we’re through” you should consider yourself lucky. 
F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)
I canon arkham scarecrow as having been engaged at one point in his life, possibly around the time of origins. I can imagine his partner gave him a “me or the fear toxin” ultimatum which has led to the man you know now. Despite how he looks, how he speaks and acts, he’s still open to the idea of a partner. He’s a loyal man who can't stand backstabbers, he’d appreciate someone like a spouse/husband/wife to have his back. If he decided he wanted to get married he’d propose almost immediately. It might be more of a business or thesis type proposal with lots of talking rather than flowers and wine and you're likely to be married as soon as you said yes. 
He has a tiny pumpkin ring saved for the occasion. Something like this (image credit https://www.banggood.
G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)
He’s gentle, in a creepy way unsurprisingly. He was a little stronger than the average man before the incident with croc, all that cardio and fighting with batman made him a skinny legend amongst the rogues for how well he could fight. Now? He couldn't fight his way out of a paper bag. Mostly he's calm and soft, especially when you wouldn't expect him to be.  He can still be an emotionally manipulative person but chances are good you're smart enough to see right through him. Calling him on his bs is actually a good way to endear yourself to him. He likes a challenge and he loves it when people think they can outsmart him.
H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)
Hmm. yes and no. Scarecrow is severely touch adversed, but...It's not like with Riddler; Edward is on the autism spectrum and genuinely gets overstimulated by a lot of physical contact, he doesn't usually enjoy it unless under specific circumstances. Scarecrow WANTS to be hugged and held on occasion, but the mere thought of someone in his personal bubble sends his hackles up. 
When he first woke up after the asylum, he clung to you like a lampent. Scarecrow gives and recieves hugs like someone who needs them to breath.Your warmth soothes the aching pain when even drugs couldn't . By the time of Arkham Knight he’s grown cold and distant. His hugs are few and far between and unusually half hearted even when he initiates them. Maybe he’s just preoccupied with batman.
I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)
I doubt he’d ever say the words ``i love you” but he’s absolutely going to quote love poetry at you, recite lines from his favorite literature  “shall i compare you to a summer's day” and all that. That’s far better than a simple “i love you” right?
J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)
Jonathan is sort of one note when it comes to expressing frustration. Coffee machine not working? Melt it down into fear toxin vials. Line at the grocery store? Gas everyone out of his way. He doesnt get mad, he gets even. He’s not a super jealous person, he’s probably the most secure in himself out of all the rogues in Gotham bar Selina and ivy. But when something does hit his jealousy bone just right? LORD HE IS TERRIBLE. 
Unless you were the instigator, you are 100% safe but the poor soul who made the mistake of flirting with you will never see the light of day again.
K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)
He can't really kiss to be honest. He lacks a lot of lip tissue and tongue dexterity for deep smooching. He’s quite happy to give you little pecks on the cheek but anywhere else will get sloppy and he's not a fan of that. Jonathan has actually started to bump you with his head like a cat in lieu of kisses. Rare as it is, when he wants kisses he has a tendency to nuzzle into the crook of your neck or rest his head on your shoulder. He likes to be kissed on the cheek , forehead and top of his head. Most other places are covered in scars and lack the sensitivity to enjoy it.
L = Little ones (How are they around children?)
He likes to scare kids. It's not as malicious as it is with adults, he just likes to yell boo at them, smiling as they scream and giggle and run away. It's probably the most innocent he’ll act around other people. He still doesnt like them per say but he’ll tolerate them in small doses. 
M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)
Scarecrow , like most rogues, is not a morning person. He doesn't sleep well and he is hella grumpy when he first wakes up. Expect to watch him shuffle around his hideout like a zombie, still wearing a quilt and his dressing gown as he complains about everything from the weather to the loud creaking of the floorboards. You should present him with food and coffee and then retreat to a safe distance until he’s fully awake, otherwise he’s liable to turn on his grumpy old man routine on you. If he's feeling particularly sore or needy, he’ll ask you to help change his bandages and dressings .
N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)
It really depends on what he feels like in the moment. Sometimes he’ll leave you at home while he goes out to cause general mischief, sometimes he’ll bring you along as a look out. Sometimes it's a low-key night at the hideout reading and sometimes it's a caffeine fueled frenzie of experimentation and lab work with you as his trusty lab assistant.  He doesn't sleep well at night, the aches keep him up. If he were ever to actually go to bed he might find that you make a great pillow.
O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)
As much as he resents people having the upperhand with information, it's hard not for people to see his past. His scars are so easily visible, inside and out. He doesn't talk about his past unless prompted. But if you do he’ll quite happily answer all your questions; he’s not afraid of discussing it. 
P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)
Jonathan is a very patient man, not just when it comes to revenge.It takes quite a lot to make him fly off the handle and he cools off again quickly. That's not to say he doesn't hold a grudge like he’s being paid for it, only that it's more of a simmering anger rather than a boiling one.
Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)
He remembers most things about you, he has an excellent memory. But that being said he never lets on that he knows these things. He likes to hear you talk about the things that interest you, even if you've told him about it before. Watching you wax lyrical about your chosen subject makes him feel close to you. 
R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)
I don't know if it's a favorite or even a positive memory but when he first woke up from surgery after croc you were lying beside him. He was understandably confused, maybe even afraid, but seeing you there brought him great comfort. He didn't know what was happening because of all the meds, but as long as you were with him he was confident things would work out for him.
S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)
He means well, you should always keep that in mind  before you snap at him. He brought you to the arkham knights HQ to protect you from his plans, he’s given you micro doses of fear toxin to build your resistance and by the time of arkham knight you can hardly move for the amount of guards he has following you around. He’s overbearing bordering on controlling but I think it's because he simply can't admit the thought of losing you scares him, even just a little. You aren't a rogue, you don't know Batman like they do. He just needs to keep you safe from batman, from the police and from the ugly world outside.
Given how weak he’s been viewed practically all his life, I believe he’d resent the accusation he needed protecting. deep in his mind he knows no one man is an island. He appreciates little helps even if he won't say it. He doesn't need protection per say but If nothing else, after being injected with his new toxin, he's going to need someone who’s corpus mentis in his corner for court and medical proceedings.  
T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)
His idea of a perfect date is you two working on your respective projects in comfortable silence, maybe a trip to the museum if he feels like the exercise. Obviously that suits some people down to the ground, myself included, but he gets that it's not for everyone. He’s probably ok with you planning the activities provided you warn him beforehand. 
Given everything he’s been planning for batman, things like important dates and even everyday tasks have a tendency to get lost in the fray. He's not doing it on purpose, He’s glad to celebrate these things with you if you remind him, He's just got his priorities in a funny order.
U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)
He shuffles his feet when he walks and is one of those people who always has conversations in doorways. You can never be sure he isn't aware of these habits and is doing them on purpose. He also used to smoke quite heavily but has since given it up due to his throat and lung issues.
V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)
It's sort of a mixed bag with him. On the one hand he knows he’s ugly, that's the point. You're MEANT to be scared looking at him, he’s leaning into it. But on the other hand his “look” is a carefully maintained visage; if it slips it might lose the intended effect. He might not be as scary to look at or worse, people might look at him in pity. It's not ordinary vanity or narcissism but yes, he is concerned with maintaining the way he looks 
W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)
The concept of feeling whole is somewhat lost on him; He’s clearly missing a few screws even in his most lucid moments. That said even in the depths of madness brought on by his toxin, he still notices your absence. Still incredibly distressed In his cell in blackgate, he can often be heard crying out to you for comfort  but is lacking the wherewithal to understand why you're not there. 
X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)
Given that he has pretty extensive facial injuries, eating is pretty difficult for him. He used to really enjoy bagels and cubanos from gothams many deli’s. His favorite was a kosher deli in The Cauldron, before Joker ruined it. They’ve since rebuilt and while he can't eat many solids anymore , he still enjoys their matzo soup and smoothies. 
Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)
Like most of the rogues, he absolutely can't stand bullies.He also can't stand physically aggressive people; if you're going to even TRY and intimidate him maybe you could use your words like someone with more than 2 brain cells to rub together, rare as that is in gotham. Back when he was a psychiatrist he hated people who were chronically late. Not his patients, most of the time it wasn't their fault  due to executive dysfunction or traffic, but people who kept HIM back and made HIM late were the bane of his existence. 
Z = Zzz (What are their sleep habits?)
Crane is a back sleeper who snores because of his damaged septum.He knows he makes a noise akin to a flip flop in a lawn mower but there is literally nothing he can do about it besides sleep on his stomach. He squirms around a lot in his sleep so even if he starts on his stomach, he’ll be on his back snoring like a dead horse in no time. The only thing that could keep him frontwise is if he were to sleep on you and have you hold him in place. 
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freerebelmentality · 3 years
Text
The high cost of living
AN:  ***TRIGGER WARNING*** MENTIONS OF DRUG USE AND OVERDOSE. **  Ok may I request a Winchester brothers x sister reader where the reader is depressed harms themselves and feels like she not good enough and is a drug addict like does weed and other drugs drinks to relieve her pain and her brothers found out and are not happy it and the reader just not having it and doesn’t want help and can’t handle being lectured about her brothers so she runs away and overdoses and her brothers find her but in the end her brothers help her in recovery and it fluffy in the end And can the reader age around 16-19 is up too you i hope this is ok for u if not I can change it. Requested by @supernerdycookietrashblr ** I took out the self harm and just stuck with the rest of the request. Sorry if this got way too long but I got carried away and I just really enjoyed writing this. Ideas came and wrote those down. So I hope you all will enjoy this and enjoy reading
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Word Count: 2,762
On the road again, you thought while sitting in the back of the Impala.
Looking out the window, seeing the trees pass by at great speed is when you begin to feel sick.
“Dean, Dean. Pull over, Im going to be sick” you say rather quickly
With one quick stop, Dean pulls over to the side of the road and puts baby in park
“Geez, are you ok? You want some water? Mint? Mouth wash?” Sam asks as he rushes to your side.
“Mouth wash?” you reply while Sam runs back to the car and searches his bag for his mouth wash.
“Feeling a little hungover? Or just sick, sick?” Dean asks as he comes check on you as well
“A little hungover” you lie to Dean while Dean goes back to the car and reaches for a beer.
He decides something a little stronger than beer.
He pulls out his flask and walks back to your side.
Sam notices how incredibly sickly looking you’ve become and begins to worry that you are coming down with something.
You knew you were coming down from your latest high, well more like from you latest fix and you needed another. Fast.
Dean hands you the flask and you greatly take it from his hands and drink the entire thing. The whisky made things a little more tolerable.
“Thanks man, I needed that” you tell him and walk slowly back to the car.
Dean and Sam looked to you and noticed how you were walking. Like as if you were in pain and cold. The weather was warm and a beautiful day really.
“Are you sure youre feeling ok?” Dean asks as soon as he gets into the car
“Yes, step on the gas. I wanna go home already” you irritatingly reply back.
Dean didnt like that, so he did what he was told and stepped on the gas to head back to the bunker.
Finally arriving.
You get out of the car as fast as you could and into the bunker. You ran all the way to your room and found your stash hidden in your room.
You felt as though you werent moving fast enough but you made it to your room.
Dean and Sam looked at you oddly as you ran fast into the bunker.
“What the hell is wrong with her?” Dean asks as he takes the stuff from the car and into the bunker.
“Maybe she needs the bathroom again” Sam replies following Dean.
“Hmm’ is all Dean says and goes to his room to put his things away.
Once you got the needle ready, you sat on the toilet and poked the needle into your favourite vain. You pulled back the syringe to draw blood is when you injected the stuff. Slowly
Once the stuff reached your body is when you started to forget about everything else. Your withdrawals, depression, everything. Numbing out everything perfectly.
Or so you thought.
You came out of your room to look for your brothers to hang out with or just to get them to stay away from your room anyway.
“Are you feeling a lot better?” Dean asks while turning away from his cooking
“Yes, I feel a lot better” you reply way to happy but oh well you replied anyway
“Ok then” Sam says while he adds more notes to the folders in front of him
He has been adding the men of letters archives, well the both of them have been doing that and they thought you were doing the same but you dont remember a thing from your last hunt.
All you thought about was how to get your next fix or even next high. Weed wasnt cutting it anymore ever since getting into the opiates.
Stupid for getting into those. Oh well choices were made and it makes the feelings go away.
As the days go by which weeks go by as well. Dean and Sam begin to notice how incredibly bad you got while hunting, sick, and more sicker.
After the sickness, you would be at your normal self and be the great hunter they knew you to be. But when the sickness came, it was as if they didnt know who you were. Didnt look like you or anything.
“Let me know when she goes out, ok?” Dean asks Sam as he watches you walk to your room
“Uh, ok. Why?” Sam asks not really sure if he wants to know the answer but he is curious to see what Dean is up to.
“I want to look through her room, I want to see if Im right about something. If not then I am going to feel like a complete dick about it later” Dean explains himself as he looks towards the hall.
“Right about what?” Sam asks looking out for you as well
He hears you coming out of your room and walk the hallway and waits for you to appear.
“Hey guys, Im going to head out for a bit and I will be home in an hour or something” you tell them and head out the door.
You didnt give them any time to say anything cause you needed to head out and look for the number one thing you have been needing. You needed your next high. You needed it bad.
“Ok, go” Sam says to Dean as he books it to your room
“What exactly are we looking for?” Sam asks as he digs through your stuf
“Needles or drugs” Dean replies as he sees a box in the bottom of the sink in your bathroom
Dean hoped it wouldn’t be the things he is looking for. Other wise all of you weird behaviour he has noticed for the past couple years would be more understandable now.
He has seen this type of addiction before in fellow hunter friends, their addiction to opiates and how they passed to overdosing.
He opens the box and sees his worst nightmare
“Sam” is all Dean could say and drops the box
Sam rushes to Dean’s side and sees what has fallen to the floor.
All the used needles, cotton balls and spoons. Along with the rubber bands. He also sees the unopened rigs.
“No” Is all Sam can say
He doesnt understand why you would want to inject anything into yourself with poison.
They get out of your roomand wait for you to come back to the bunker.
Dean has a few words for you.
Sam has a few questions for you.
They couldnt believe their baby sister would turn to drugs
Dean is beginning to understand the border line alcoholism but he always thought it was just something to help you sleep. He didnt think it was something to settle the withdrawals.
The next morning, Dean and Sam are still seated in the library waiting for you to walk through the doors. None of them moved from their seats, they stayed seated like that and waited for you. Dean was to heated to even move from his seat.
His anger turned to worry when you never showed. Until now, his nerves settled and now all he wants to do is hug you and lock you away. But he needed to say a few things first before he can do that.
As you come walking down the stairs and see your brothers in the library looking at you all tired looking. You were about to say something when you see a familiar box. Your heart begins to race.
“Morning guys, sorry I didnt come home last night and sorry I didnt call or anything” you say to break the ice but knew you should have said nothing and should have went straight to your room
“Y/n? What the hell is this crap?” Dean asks opening the box and pushing it towards you.
Your heart begins to beat rapidly because your brother has found your dirty secret. Your life long dirty secret.
“You went through my room?” you ask not even going to lie about the box they found.
What was the whole point in lying? They found it, they figured it out and you werent going to lie about it.
It was as if you secretly hoped they would find it, maybe them finding it would finally get you to stop and go to treatment.
“Of course we went through your room. We wanted to know what was making you feel so crappy and during hunts” Sam says next, he finally finds his voice.
“You found my dirty secret. Now what?” you ask as anger begins to form.
“Why? How long? This needs to stop now” Dean replies sternly, he didnt want to get too angry. Otherwise he would have ruined the whole plan he had.
“Or else what?” What are you going to do if I dont stop?”  you ask while looking to both of your brothers
They both went quiet, they didnt want to give any ultimatums cause they feared you would pick the poison over them and they knew you are going to pick that over them.
They wondered what they did wrong to make you turn to something else to numb out everything.
Sure Dean hasnt been the poster boy about opening up his feelings about anything and he feels he should have done that with you. At least.
Sam should have pestered you more about opening up. How he does with Dean, he should have done the same for you. He didnt and he feels ashamed.
“You know, I’ll make things easier for you” you break the silence and walk down the hall and into your room
“What do you mean make things easier for us?” Sam asks as he follows you down the hall
“Where the hell do you think your going?” Dean asks next following behind Sam
You grabbed what you could and what you thought was clean. At least it was warm clothing anything, it was beginning to get a bit nippy out there.
“Im leaving. That way I wont be such a burden to either of you anymore” you reply while walking back down the hall and up the round stairs
“Y/n, no. Stay here and we will help you” Sam pleads with you as he follows
“Y/N!! Stop” Dean raises his voice
“You arent a burden. Stay, so we can figure out how to help you and let us help you” Sam continues as he looks to you.
You are at the top of the stairs and finally with one final thought. You turned the door knob and walked out.
Dean runs up the stairs and tries to block you from going any where but he is too late. He ran out the door and you were gone. He yells for your name, looks around and continues to yell for you.
Nothing, it was as if you disappeared into thin air and he wondered where you went or what direction you took.
“Son of a bitch” Dean says as he looks around with both of hands behind his head.
Tears fill his eyes as a lone tear streams down his face. He falls to his knees, feeling defeated he let this happen. Defeated he let anything go this far and didnt notice anything to begin with.
Sam comes running to him and looks around as well.
“Sam, shes gone. I couldnt catch up to her. I let her go” Dean tries to keep his emotions together. But he releases a sob
“We’ll find her, someone has to see her and security cameras are every where and one of those ust of caught her” Sam says as he helps Dean to his feet.
Months went by, Dean and Sam never stopped searching for you. Drove from town to town, Dean always tracked better when he was on the road. But his leads always went cold. You knew better to go off track cause you knew he would track you.
Finally Dean’s phone begins to ring. He takes out his phone so fast and answered it like his life depended on it. In a way it did.
Dean talks on the phone for a long period of time and Sam is getting anxious. He doesnt what is going on or who is calling.
Finally Dean gets off the phone.
“Well who was that? What did they say? Say anything about y/n?” Sam asks way too quickly
Dean couldnt understand a word he said, all due to the phone call he just got and that shocked him more.
“That was Y/n’s doctor. She was admitted yesterday and he told me that they saved her from an overdose. That its their third time saving her from the overdose. Why they never called the first couple times was because she didnt list any family members as emergency contacts. Sam we got to go. We got to get our baby sister” Dean finally says and begins running to his room to begin packing.
Sam couldnt believe those words came out of Dean’s mouth. More like he couldnt believe you wouldnt add him or Dean as your emergency contact to begin with. Until now.
They drove for hours and hours.
As they stand at your door, they see you laying on your hospital bed, IV in one hand while the nasal cannula is inserted.
Your attention is brought to the door and you couldnt believe your brothers are standing right in front of you.
“Hi” you break the silence as the greeting came out a little raspy and small
Your brothers came further into the room.
Dean is the first one who hugs you.
“Hi, I missed you” as a tear streams down his face
He hold yous a little longer, feeling as though he is going to wake up and realize its all a dream and have to wake up to a bunker without you in it.
“I missed you so much” he says as he holds onto you a little longer and tighter.
He feels as though you were going to dissolve away if he let you go. Again
“What the hell happened?” he asks taking a seat by your bed side
“I chased and ended up here” you simply answer your brother.
Well you felt ashamed by answering him
“Your face” is all Dean could say
He sees the bruises on your face, the dark circles around your eyes and how sunken in your face is. He is thinking as if he is looking at your skull.
“Ooh, I owe money to my dealer and he made an example out of my face. A few times. So to medicate, I chased the high so much, that I practically chased myself in here” you reply to your brother and look around the room
“The only way for us to get you out of here is you go to treatment and get help. Dean and I were talking along the way and thats our ultimatums” Sam says while Dean looks to him in annoyance
Dean wanted some time with you before he sent you to treatment.
“Ok, ok. I will get the help. I will go to treatment, I wanna come home” you tell them as you begin to cry.
Sam is happy and hugs you. Tears stream down his face as a sigh of relief escapes his mouth
“Thats what I want, for you to come home and go get help. We want to be there for you. We love you” Dean says as he hugs you.
He felt relieved he heard those words coming out of your mouth, as if all of his stress has been removed and now he can finally settle his nerves. Kind of.
For them it was an eternity. Dean felt as though he was in hell all over again but this time felt longer.
Sam felt like he was in the cage all over again in trying to look for you. Or he felt as though he didnt have a soul. Having you around was better and you are Sam’s other half just like Dean is his other half.
When all three of you are together, its as though everyone feels complete but when separated, thats when everything crumbles.
You felt like you are getting your family back, after being away from your brothers for so long. Well more like after running from your problems and creating more. You really felt like you are getting them back and earning their trust.
You and your brother hunted like a family again. Better than ever.
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cupofteaguk · 4 years
Text
what you want
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pairing: jungkook x fem!reader
genre: post breakup au | fluff
warnings: depictions of alcohol consumption 
word count: 5k
a/n: taken from “things you said while we were driving” on my old blog
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In a way, Jungkook knows you’re on the other side of the line even before he answers the phone. One could argue that it’s because he remembers your strange and cute and endearing habit of always calling him at ungodly hours of the evening for absolutely no reason at all, or how its been a few months since things ended between the two of you and he still jumps at the notification of text messages and still catches glimpses of you on the street. 
While all those things are true, he probably knows it’s you because he has yet to change the ringtone on his phone that corresponds to your calls. That way, his action of leaping off the couch and making a dive for his phone is slightly more justified as he slides the answer button and presses the device to his ear. “Hello?” He exclaims breathlessly, cursing himself out just a moment later because he didn’t even think to cover up the eager quality in his tone and probably sounds like he had been waiting around for your call—which he has but you didn’t need to know that. 
“Hey! Jungkook!” You exclaim from the other end, a concerning amount of time between his question and your response that he can already feel his eyes narrowing and can already feel a little voice in the back of his head telling him that it doesn’t matter how he reacts to your call. 
You’re likely way too drunk at this point to notice. 
Jungkook furrows his eyebrows, bringing a finger up to tap at the crease as not just a means to calm himself but also a means to give himself a better handle on the situation. You were never the heavy drinker, especially when the pair of you were dating, so he doesn’t have any sort of default speech or words of caution to throw at you during this kind of specific predicament. From that, the only thing he can properly manage to say back to you is: “Are you drunk?” 
A pause. “No of course not!” You shout back over the line and Jungkook sighs because the pieces are just beginning to connect in his mind. You only ever shouted when you were drunk, when your mind and vocal chords couldn’t process the depth or volume of your tone. “Why would I do that?!” 
“Y/N, you’re shouting,” He points out, looking down and despite everything, despite the fact that he should really be pissed at you for disrupting his evening, despite the fact that your wellbeing shouldn’t be a priority in his life anymore—he can’t help but allow the corner of his lips to quirk up in the smallest smile. A smile of relief that you’re here and well and talking, a smile of relief that stops the flood of questions from escaping his lips. 
Another pause, and he imagines you tilting your head to the side, imagines the drunk gears turning like a wheel over and over again in your mind as you comprehend his words and attempt to adjust your own lifestyle accordingly. “I am?” You return, but your voice has lowered significantly from grand yelling to soft whispering. 
Jungkook can’t help it. A noise of laughter escapes from the back of his throat. “You’re insane,” He speaks without an ounce of remorse in his tone as he straightens up and off the floor, continuing to unconsciously cradle the phone against his ear, pressing it closer as if pulled by a desire to hear every curve of your voice. “Though I didn’t know you were the type to drunk dial…” 
“M’not drunk dialing,” You point out, your voice still retaining that hushed quality but there’s something different about it, something sensual and vulnerable and it only captures Jungkook’s attention more. “Jungkook, I need you.” 
The statement forces Jungkook into an immediate frenzy as he allows himself one second of completely disregard for the situation, for the fact that you were drunk and likely just spewing nonsense, the fact that the pair of you weren’t dating anymore, the fact that it has been months since your last conversation—all thoughts seems to fling itself out of the window. This leaves Jungkook alone in the living room, choking on his words. He swallows thickly because drunk words were sober thoughts, were they not? “Y-You need me,” He repeats back slowly. 
You whine at that, a vulnerable noise Jungkook hasn’t heard in so long that it makes his heart tighten slightly in his chest. It’s not a reaction that comes out of need or physical desire, but more so as a deep unconditional sort of longing. He misses you, misses you definitely a lot more than he should be missing an ex-partner but he can’t help it. 
“I need you for a ride,” You reply back, the addition of those last three words to that sentence doing little to diminish Jungkook’s attention on your voice. It doesn’t matter that you seem to have only called him for your own personal reason. “Karly dragged’m to this party and I don’t trust anyone else to pick me up.” 
“So you need me… to pick you up from a party?” Jungkook echoes, gradually lowering himself onto the couch. He doesn’t know the protocol of open lines of communication between someone who use to (and still does, but people didn’t need to know that) mean the world to him. He doesn’t know if he should be more watchful, more careful, more aware of its hidden implications or if he should take situations like these with a grain of salt. 
His genuine cluelessness about relationship norms has come to bite him back in the ass, yet he’s not too sure if it’s a bad thing or a good thing. 
However, his restating of your request seems to click something in your mind because you let out a groan. “Oh god,” You say, letting out a big sigh. “I can’t ask you to pick me up.” It’s hard to tell if you’re talking to Jungkook or convincing yourself otherwise. 
So Jungkook just leans against the couch, continuing to press the phone against his ear, closing his eyes just enough to the sound of you breathing lightly on the other side because holy shit it feels like lifetimes. “Well, why not?” He asks, lowering his gaze to stare down at his leg, the texture of his jeans. His finger comes out to trace at the denim mindlessly, desperate to keep you on the phone partially because he’s long since forgotten the lapsed sound of your breathing but also because that part of himself that’s always been protective over you longs to ensure your safety. 
“You must be busy, right?” You grumble, voice slightly muffled and he imagines you leaning heavily against a wall to maintain your balance. “I don’t want to bother you… I just need to figure out how to get home.” 
“N-No, it’s okay,” Jungkook reassures, pushing himself off the couch and already starting to rummage around for the important belongings such as his wallet and his keys. “Do you think you could drop a pin for me? I need to know where you are so I can come get you.” 
You hum. “R-Really?” You manage. “You would do that?” 
He swallows down the part of himself that almost admits he would do anything for you, not because he fears you retaining that statement but because he knows that speaking the words out loud would mean facing the truth he’s spent months trying to bury away. 
So he reaches over to lightly scratch the back of his neck. “Yeah, I mean…” He starts, biting his lip, trying to find the right words that don’t give away too much of his feelings yet can still convey his desire to look after you. “I still care about you.” 
He closes his eyes after the words escape, a wave of curses and frenzy and something akin to smashed keyboard lettering piling up in his mind. Fuck, fuck, that was definitely not what he was trying to go for. 
Yet on the other side of the phone, you laugh softly and quietly and it sounds more tired than anything else which only gives Jungkook a greater incentive to go out and find you. “You’re too good for me Jungkook. I don’t know how I can return the favor.” 
He feels himself practically melting at your words, at your ability to say the right thing without even having to try and it makes him wonder. His mind wanders to where it all went wrong, what happened between the two of you, why he’s here on the other side of the phone line in an apartment that feels much too empty and lonely rather than at that party with you and hearing your voice directly in his ear and not through some hazy reception. Or even better, just spending the time alone within each other’s company—playing video games or watching movies or cooking meals or just anything in general that involved being within each other’s company. Those things, once so common and mundane to the average day-by-day playback of his life, have quickly become his favorite things to reflect upon in his spare time. At least, until the realization of his lingering feelings for you and the fact that a breakup didn’t equate to breaking apart the remnants of his emotional connection. 
He simply smiles. “Text me where you are. At least drop a pin.” 
“Okay,” You manage and he can practically hear you nodding your head furiously to showcase the depth of how hard you were going to work to ensure that would happen. “I will. I really will.” 
The pair of you hang up shortly after, and Jungkook finds himself letting out a breath. He hadn’t realized how nervous he would be at getting to converse with you after so many long months of silence; just a proof of testament to how you still had the full capability of continuously inching yourself underneath his skin. 
His phone buzzes, capturing his attention as he reaches the device to his line of sight and sees the text message from you. 
from you: [PINNED LOCATION]
from you: did tiowork 
from you: jgnkook plaes tell me oyou got htaht 
from Jungkook: I got it, just stay where you are okay? 
from you: holy sih t did i use tehncaoloy coreectly im ga fucking genius 
from you: jungkok guhryy up im tured i mgith 
from you: fall sasleep 
from Jungkook: DON’T  
from you: jungkook ure too godoo for me 
from you: what did ideo to derserve you
He pockets his phone after that, because although your messages are more than enough to send him into another burst of uncontrollable emotions, he knows immediately that his absolute first priority is to get to the party before you dropped your guard even more. He can’t even begin to imagine what would happen—his thoughts getting the best of him given that Jungkook doesn’t trust a little more than half of the overall human population and those fragments of alternative realities is what forces his feet to slam on the gas pedal and his eyes to frantically scan back and forth on the street to ensure that he would most definitely not miss the house. 
He doesn’t. He gets the house right, and luckily doesn’t need to be double checking his work because not only are there long rows of cars parked along the sidewalk, but also a handful of people are littered outside along the porch. Given the quiet neighbor, their hushed voices make sense, but they’re all holding bottles and cups that leaves little to the imagination. Jungkook parks, steps out of his car, shuffles towards the house and his approaching figure is barely spared a glance as he makes his way up the steps and into the house. 
Inside, the conversations are a little louder, a little more rowdy—the laughter is freer, a mixture of different voices are heard ringing down the hallway and the rooms that individuals have gathered in. But none of those things matter to Jungkook. He doesn’t care about the prospect of drinking with strangers, the typically alluring temptation of free alcohol. The only thing he cares about it—! 
“Jungkook?” A voice sounds from one of the couches in the empty living room, the familiarity of the tone forcing him to stop completely in his tracks as he whirls around towards the source of the noise. His heart does that painful stuttering thing it always does when he sees you and he can practically feel the desperation and overwhelming swell of emotions erupting throughout his body—like that time you stepped out his bathroom for the first time in his clothes or the first time he woke up next you and saw the golden rays of morning light hitting all the curves and angles of your face. Or one instance post-coitus tangled with one another atop the mattress, deep breath matched into the evening, his fingers and eyes developing an intense fixation on your lips; that was the moment he realized he was in love with you. 
And now those emotions seem to be hitting him like a wave the longer he stands there staring at you, taking you in because even though you are curled up on the couch half asleep, you’ve never looked more beautiful and months apart definitely does not change that. 
“H-Hey,” Jungkook manages, taking the few steps towards you, quickening his pace slightly when he notices you struggling to sit yourself up on the couch. “Wait, don’t do that, you’ll hurt yourself,” He instructs lightly, kneeling before you yet you still attempt to pull yourself up. You are somehow able to get your arm underneath yourself, using your strength to push your body. Your head almost falls to the side but Jungkook starts forward to hold the side. 
Your eyes slowly find his, flickering upwards until they land upon his face and the corner of your lips quirk up in a tired yet gorgeous smile. “Hi Jungkook,” You whisper, your voice that low huskiness that always takes form when you’ve drank too much and yelled too much. He remembers bits and pieces of your drunken facade and knows this particular one to be your tired and exhausted shell. “It’s been awhile.” 
You sound significantly less drunk than you had been over the phone, which he takes to be a good sign and that you’ve spent the few minutes it has taken Jungkook to drive from his house to this to sober up and start the process of trying to make yourself as well as you possibly could be in this state. 
“I know,” He returns back. 
You laugh, a mere exhale through your nose, eyes drifting close for a second before they open again. “This is’not how I wanted you to see me after all this time.” 
He smiles softly. “Pretty sure I’ve seen you through worse.” And it’s true. He definitely has. “C’mon, my car is right outside.” 
For a second, Jungkook is not entirely sure what to do with his hands. Under normal circumstances he would have no doubts about gathering you in his arms and leading you to his car himself, but these are not normal circumstances so he just settles with bringing a hand down to the curve of your waist. 
“Can you stand up for me?” 
Keeping both hands on his shoulders, it helps propel you upwards and although you aren’t completely uncoordinated, you still cling to him and Jungkook allows you to lean on him heavily as he holds you close in order to guide you out of the house and down the lawn. 
You hum quietly under your breath, eyes fixated downwards to watch your footing. “Do you remember…” You start slowly, the exhaustion from the alcohol starts to eat away at your system. “Do you remember my house… like, where it is?” 
“Yeah, yeah I remember where it is,” He answers, slowly open the passenger door and leaning over to help you sit down. You practically slump against on the seat, providing the further fluidity of your bones and muscles, still doing enough in dragging out the sheepish laugh from Jungkook. As if by instinct, he reaches over to tug the seat belt over your frame, crossing over your body to lock the buckle in place. This forces himself closer to you, forces him within such a close proximity to your frame that he can smell the lingering after effects of alcohol fill up his nose. But underneath that, he can still smell your perfume and the lavender scent of your shampoo. He clears his throat. “Uh, you good?” 
You nod slowly, gaze unwavering from his face as he pulls away far enough to meet your eyes. You are unwavering, orbs flickering back and forth with a scary intensity that he momentarily questions the level of intoxication you are under. The only way he can know for sure is through the glassy complexion of your eyes. 
“What?” He speaks, feeling too self-conscious to ignore the look across your features. 
You inhale slowly. “You smell the same.” There is a sense of longing in your voice that Jungkook is almost sure is just the alcohol talking. 
Almost. 
He takes in a breath. “Y/N, you’re drunk,” He says, not sure if he’s trying to convince himself or you more. “Just try to get some rest, okay?” You look like you’re about to open your mouth to further explain your situation—because a tired you equates to a rambling you—but he pulls back and slams the car door shut without a word. 
Not for long though, because he reappears on the driver’s side, sliding into place and sliding the key into the ignition to start the car up. 
“Being drunk has nothing to do with how you smell the same,” You note quietly, shifting to stare longingly out of the window. 
“Being drunk means everything,” He returns, making sure to keep his grip tight on the steering wheel keep himself focused on the road rather than you. “It means you’ll say something you’ll probably regret in the morning.” 
“I highly doubt that,” You say, but he doesn’t believe you. Even when you readjust yourself once more to stare at his side profile. “Jungkook, I missed you,” You start. “So, so, so much.” 
Despite his increasing heart rate, he manages a weak laugh. “You’re just saying that because I’m picking you up from a party.” 
“No, no, no,” You protest, shaking your head. “Not true. I mean it. I missed you so much.” 
That statement forces his mind into a complete 180 rotation as Jungkook is so startled at your confession that his foot accidentally slams down on the gas, forcing the pair of you to dart forward at such a speed that both heads slam against the back of the seats. Jungkook curses loudly, managing a right turn just before the overhead light turns red. 
Jungkook’s breathing picks up as he tightens his grip on on the wheel. “Fucking hell—Y/N don’t say things like that!” 
“Why not?” You protest, leaning back against the headrest of the seat. Your eyes slide shut and stay closed for a few seconds. “It’s true…” You let out a gentle sigh from between your lips, grumbling something that he can’t make out and Jungkook decides to take advantage of your incoherent nature to just fix the rest of his attention back on the road. Seriously, if you could keep your mouth shut for the next five minutes, he could actually maintain some semblance of his sanity to prevent any further potential accidents. 
Luckily, aside from the occasional hum that leaves your lips, you are quiet which allows Jungkook to carefully navigate the streets before finally pulling up to the curbside in front of your apartment complex. The sight definitely brings back memories, but he swallows them down long enough to take himself out of the driver side and make his way back around to your side of the vehicle. 
You’re still hunched against the seat when Jungkook opens the door, eyes closed and lips parted and bombarding him with memories of good times, better times, that he almost doesn’t reach him to shake you awake. 
Key word: almost. 
He leans in to gently grip your shoulder. “Y/N, we’re here.”
You open your eyes just as he’s reaching over to unbuckle your seatbelt, but Jungkook doesn’t get far because just as he’s about to pull back, your hands dart out to grasp at the hem of his jacket. Despite your sleepy facade, your grip is surprisingly strong and it keeps Jungkook within a close distance to your face. 
He swallows down his heart threatening to crawl its way out of his throat. 
“I’m not… fucking around Jungkook,” You insist. “The months when you’re not with me suck. They really fucking suck and…” You aren’t drunk but you definitely still are battling with the remnants of alcohol clouding your mind and judgment and Jungkook wants you to stop, wants you to put a halt to something you will surely regret in the morning, but he also knows that you would chew him out for continuously trying to interrupt you. Even if it’s for your own personal benefit. You’re funny and stubborn and adorable and endearing in this sense. 
Back to reality. He blinks, biting his lip, hoping you cannot hear his rapidly increasing pulse drumming underneath the skin. Rather than put a stop to it, he can’t help himself this time around. He encourages your drunken mind. “What are you trying to say?” 
Your gaze dances across his face, eyes still glazed and shimmering underneath the light of the car and the lights from the building behind the pair of you. 
Then, without a warning, you lean forward and dust your lips against his. 
For a moment, everything seems to leave Jungkook. Everything: from his sanity to his state of mind to the ground behind his feet to his sense of balance and belonging, leaving him alone with his raw and infinite love for you and a desire for more more more. He barely processes the way your hands move up from the hem of his shirt to the collar until you’re luring him in again for another kiss, one a little bit more firm and a little bit more intoxicating. 
Jungkook practically whimpers at the kiss, a little noise of desire escaping from the back of his throat, because holy fucking shit, it may just be because he hasn’t kissed anyone over the past few months or maybe just because he hasn’t kissed you that’s making him feel this way, making him realize just how much he really fucking misses you and how perhaps breaking up wasn’t the best idea. For a split second, he longs to forget that you’re drunk, that you’re definitely not in your right state of mind, that you broke up for a valid (unfortunate) reason, that this is wrong. So very absolutely wrong. 
Although it hurts every bone in his body, Jungkook has to force himself to turn away and pull back from you. “W-Wait,” He manages, processing the fact that his voice is low from the events that have just happened. His cheeks feel warm and he feels lightheaded, but he forces himself to stay focused on what is the right thing to do and definitely not trying to notice the way you look: from the flushed cheeks to the darkened lips to the distracted eyes. “We shouldn’t do this. It’s not right.” 
The light once flickering so hopefully in your gaze dies down at his firm words, as you cast your head downwards in a mixture of utter shame and embarrassment. He can hear the gears turning frantically in your mind, can feel the way your hands pull away from his frame to settle tightly on your lap, can see the way you press your lips together as if you’re trying to keep yourself from saying anything further. 
But his eyes widen as you inhale sharply before a heart-wrenching sob tears itself from your throat. Your hand flies up to cover your mouth, but it does little to stop the hiccups and Jungkook can only watch helplessly as you crumble apart right before his eyes. 
“I’m sorry,” You admit quietly, such a soft whisper that he almost doesn’t hear you but he does and you are so broken that Jungkook’s own heart cannot be protected as he kneels down with eyes like a deer caught in the headlights. Questions swarm around his mind, desperately trying to figure out what to say because he should have known this would happen. He should have remembered that at the end of the day, after the laughter and the exhaustion have taken their phase in your identity like passage of the moon—it all ends with this. It all ends with the emotional part of you, when the alcohol gets to your head and leaves nothing but a sobbing mess behind over anything and everything. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry…” You start to ramble, each word broken up by a sharp inhale for air like your tears are drowning you. “I’m so sorry Jungkook, I’m so stupid, I’m so sorry…” 
“Hey,” Jungkook starts. “Hey, stop apologizing. Why are you apologizing? Why are you crying?” 
The questions do little but prompt further crying as another strangled sob escapes your throat and you turn your head with a refusal to even look in his general direction. Your jaw is clenched together, your hand is still at your mouth as if attempting to muffle your whimpers to little success. 
“B-Because,” You stammer, your whole body shaking with the effort to contain the wave of your sufferings. Jungkook’s heart stutters painfully in his chest, sinking down to his stomach, as the words of how this was all his fault ring like a bell in his mind. “Because you probably hate me. You hate me, d-don’t you?” 
He scoots a little closer. “No, no, of course I don’t. Y/N, where did you get that idea?” 
You shake your head, eyes slamming shut. “H-How could you not hate me? I just kissed you and we’re not even together anymore, we haven’t been together for months and it just hurts so so much because I’m stupid, I’m so stupid…” 
“Y/N, take a breath, you have to calm down,” Jungkook speaks gently, bravely reaching over to rest his hand on your knee, attempting to draw soothing patterns over the denim and hoping more than anything that you can feel the warmth and reassurance of his touch against your skin. “You aren’t making any sense. Why would you call yourself stupid?” 
You pull your hand away from your mouth and you glare at him through your tears. Your face is bright red and wet with tears, but still so beautiful it really hurts. “Because I’m still in love with you,” You speak, swallowing down your uneven breathes and forcing yourself to make the statement as clearly as possible. “Because I’m still in love with you, and I’ve been trying to get over you this entire time to no luck. A-And I thought going to that dumb party would help me, but I-I guess not because I’m here being an asshole and trying to kiss you even though you hate me…” Your face crumbles and you look like you’re on the verge of tears all over again. 
“Y/N,” Jungkook speaks up, leaning forward. “Y/N, please, stop beating yourself up for this. I don’t hate you. I could never hate you—you were the most important person in my life. I mean… you still are.” 
You sniff, reaching up to wipe at your nose. “What are you trying to say?” 
“I miss you too,” He replies quietly, gazing down for a moment to study the rest of your body. “I miss you so much all the time it hurts. If I had to give up a penny for every time I wanted to call you or text you… well, I’d probably be broke.” 
You blink away the layer of tears clouding your vision. “D-Do you mean that?” 
“I would never lie to you,” He admits, looking down and gently reaching over to grasp your hand. He runs his thumb over your skin, momentarily basking in the skin-on-skin contact with you. 
Your body jolts with the occasional hiccup as you quietly try to let the previous wave of sobbing pass over you. “I’m sorry,” You whisper again. “I probably made a mess of your evening.” 
He shakes his head before he even realizes what he’s doing. “No, it’s okay, I’m just glad to see you home safely.” 
You look down at your joined hands. “S-Since you miss me, and I miss you,” You start, biting on your lip. “Can we start over?” 
He gazes up at you. Every nerve in his body screams YES, because goddamn, it has been too long and he’s sure that if the universe was willing to give the pair of you another chance, you both would do anything and everything to make it work and not fall into those same traps that broke you apart last time. He has wanted a lot of things, but never has badly as this and he wants to hold you tightly and crush you to his chest and inhale your lavender—and yet. 
The sinking sensation seems to hit him in that moment that you’re still drunk and under the influence and thus, not in your right state of mind. He doesn’t want to get his hopes up. He doesn’t think he can handle that. 
He lets out a sigh. “If you remember this tomorrow,” He says. “Then we can.” 
You start fading again as he takes you out of his car and helps you up the stairs to the correct floor of your apartment, helps your roommate in guiding you into your bedroom, and leaves with a prompt ‘just… take care of her, please…’ with such a sad edge to his voice that Karly gives him a sympathetic pat on the back and a request to drive home safely. 
He does, but there is a longing in his chest, a doubt, a warning not to expect too much from this situation. 
He loves you too much for the disappointment. 
The next morning, he wakes up to surprisingly sunny skies, golden rays, and a text. 
from you [7,18am]: Since you miss me and I miss you, can we start over? 
He doesn’t think he’ll ever get use to your unpredictability, your determination—and for the first time in months, his smile is brighter than the outside. 
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supernaturalee · 4 years
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Green and Gold: Part 2 - Gwilym Lee x Reader
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Pairings: Widow/Single Father! Gwilym Lee x Reader
Warnings: Some swearing, Mentions of X rated thoughts, and more KAREN
Word Count: 4.4k
Previous Parts: One
Summary: When Gwilym lost his wife two years ago he feared raising his daughter alone in a small coastal New Jersey town would be difficult. In the two years since her death, Gwil and Brianne are finally ready to start moving on. Following the words of a child psychologist, Gwil signs Bri up for cheerleading with the local youth squad, something Gwil knows nothing about. As he is thrust in the world of cheer bows and back handsprings, he will learn it takes a lot more than green and gold uniforms to mend his and his daughter’s hearts. Hopefully through the squad they will find strength, friendship, and possibly a spark of new love for the widow himself.  
Taglist:@the-baby-bookworm​ @ixchel-9275​ @slutforbritdick​ @kurt-nightcrawler​ @radio-hoo-ha​ @imgonnabeyourslave​ @queendeakyy​ @girllety​ @im-an-adult-ish​ @what-wicked-delights​ @drivenbybri​
Author’s Note: It’s almost 2 am EST and I thought to myself, why not post part two. We are getting into meat of the story here, y’all! Again, this update is late, but my writing was hard to come by for a while. So without further ado, he is part 2 of Green & Gold. Please let me know if you want to be tagged in future installments. 
In the four short weeks since Brianne had started cheerleading practice, Gwilym had come to learn three absolute truths. First being that cheer made Bri happier than Gwil had ever hoped. In the time since that first practice, he had seen her smile more than he had seen since before Angela had passed away. Her eyes lit up now whenever she spoke about how the routine was coming along or how she was learning all of these different things. Such as stunts or new tumbling passages or jumps that had odd names like toe touches, herkies, and pikes. While Gwilym cooked dinner or checked over her homework, he could always hear her routine music coming from the stereo in the living room. Once he got her to wash her hands and then settled at the table. It would become Gwilym’s inquiry into the world of cheerleading and Brianne was more than happy to oblige his many questions. 
Bri had taken to cheering like a fish takes to water. It was in her blood, Angela’s cheerleading history flowing through Brianne’s veins now. It made Gwil so happy. She spent three nights a week on the mat now and Saturday during the day at either the home field or away fields cheering on the young football players. The football team’s age coincided with the cheerleaders of Bri's team’s ages. Or the Mustang Pee Wees as Gwil had learned. He had finally found out the difference between the game cheers and the competition cheer as Bri had once told him. He usually sat in the game bleachers trying to decipher how American football was more popular than actual football. Or as Y/N lovingly reminded him every time he complained, “It’s soccer here.” she would say with a smile. At first he thought it was kind of annoying but now anytime she reminded him, he found it endearing. The way her lips curled up in a smile as she said it, he found himself mesmerized by it. 
When Brianne wasn’t cheering and once her homework was done, she could be found hanging out with her new friends Jasmine, Joey, and Selma. The carpool Y/N had promised had been fruitful for Brianne and Gwilym on the friendship front. They had been the type of cheer parents Gwilym had hoped for and luckily he got in with them instead of the others. That was the second absolute truth he learned that, cheer parents were absolutely bonkers bananas insane. Karen Diguimi was just the tip of the massive iceberg that was the “Stepford Stangs” as Joe lovingly coined them. Gwil had now become a member of the mailing list. A dreaded place to be that he wouldn’t have agreed to had he known what a nightmare it truly was. 
He had now started to receive daily emails with updates on fundraising and how close they were to the nice buses. Game schedules, rule changes, and low fat recipes to keep your little cheerleader in proper cheering shape were among the other important articles. Plus little snide comments on the surrounding towns’ teams and how far superior the Mustangs were to them. It was like a tabloid magazine that Gwil now had a daily subscription too.
 Y/N had sent him a long paragraph text about the low carb recipes and how dare the “Stepford Stangs” imply that only certain shaped children could be cheerleaders. ‘It is the middle of October and they are nine and ten years old. WHY DO THEY HAVE TO BE SWIMSUIT READY?! Gwil, you will have to stop me from strangling Karen at the next practice.’ It made Gwilym feel a swell of pride for a moment that he read her text. It caused the return of a certain set of emotions. These feelings that he was feeling were something he hadn’t felt in a long time. 
Often he would check over the email for that week’s game schedule then file the email away. His new gang of misfit parents would mock the over ridiculous links in the emails or the fact that they received a new one every day. Joe always sent a meme or two about them, while Rami commented on the complete lack of email etiquette. ‘It’s too many emails and too many people hit Reply All instead of reply. It is chaotic!’ Rami had sent in their group chat. ‘I think its nice to keep us informed with the same information that we knew yesterday.’ Lucy had added. Gwil finally being able to put a face to the name as he met Rami’s other half at the first football game of the year. She was blonde, slim, and in a way almost fairy like. Her movements were graceful but she had this hidden strength to her. Rami and Lucy complimented each other well. Rami was a computer engineer, who like Gwil, could do most of his work from home. Lucy, on the other hand, was a certified midwife and a nurse at the local OBGYN. Often traveling between the hospital and the doctor office. Their schedules mostly allow for their twin girls’ busy sports schedules to work. Joe ran an accounting firm but swore he was bad at math. He stated he liked the business but preferred leaving the accounting to his dedicated small team of accountants.
Finally, the third absolute truth that Gwilym Lee knew was that Wednesday nights were now his favorite night of the week. It was the only night parents were allowed to stay for the whole practice. This meant about two hours of watching Bri have the most fun and grow into an even stronger, more beautiful young woman. It also meant getting to spend time with his new friends including Y/N.  Y/N had quickly become Gwil’s confidant in all things cheer related. Any question or need he had, she had the answer and was always there with a smile. It was just another reason why Gwil was now harboring a crush on this woman. He and Bri had not seen her coming. He thought he would scrap by with googled information and keep his head down. He would be quiet and lonely,  knowing just enough to get by. 
Yet there was Y/N with her intelligence, her helping hand, and her kind heart. Bri also loved her and Jasmine. She was treated with so much love, respect, and care by Y/N. Gwil found it hard to keep himself from melting every time he was in her gaze. He felt like a teenage boy with a crush. He had confided in Ben who told him to get back on the horse. However, to Gwil, the horse was a twenty foot tall bear that was very hungry. Angela was still on his mind, in his life, in his heart. He saw her every day in the brown eyes of his daughter. He feared that any new relationship he would start would be doomed to be branded as the rebound relationship for the man with the dead wife. Even if he found someone, they had to pass the most important test in his book, being well loved by the most important person in his life, Brianne. He shook away the heavy thoughts as the red light turned green. He pressed his foot on the gas as he continued the drive to practice. Bri and Jasmine chatting in the back of his car. 
Y/N had asked him to pick Jasmine up from school and drive her to practice. Y/N had a meeting with the college board about one of her students. She would meet them at the cheer gym later. Gwil’s mind couldn’t help but wander to Y/N. He hoped her meeting went well. He knew in just the short few weeks of knowing her that her job meant a tremendous amount to her. Professor Y/L/N had a very nice ring to it. His mind wandering further to dirtier thoughts. If they were ever to be together would she let him play the teacher's pet. His fantasy slowly took form in his head when Bri’s voice snapped him back to reality. 
“Dad?” No answer came from the driver’s seat. “Earth to dad. Father?” She laughed. Gwil pushed all X rated thoughts from his mind and looked to the rear view. 
“Hmm?” He answered, putting on a small smile to show her that he has really been paying attention the whole time. 
“Could Jasmine and Ms. Y/L/N come to dinner with us?” Bri asked sweetly. The two had joined them for dinner every Wednesday night since that first practice. 
“Please Mr. Lee!” Jasmine used the same sweet voice. Gwil rubbed his jaw with his free hand as the two girls started repeating the world please. 
“Please please please please please please please please please please please please please!” Bri and Jasmine begged together. Gwilym laughed, smiling. 
“It is fine with me but we will have to ask your aunt, Jasmine, when we see her.” He said.  Both girls cheered happily as they looked at each other. 
“Of course Mr. Lee!” Jasmine smiled. “Aunt Y/N likes getting dinner with you and Bri.” Jasmine said. Gwil felt his cheeks heat up for a moment. This came as a surprise to him in a way. Sure he knew she cared about their friendship but maybe this meant she also felt something more for him. He quickly pushed this thought away, no it wasn’t a good time for him to get into a new relationship. I’m not ready. His thoughts continued his mantra. 
“Well we like having dinner with both of you as well, dear.” He answered her. Jasmine’s smile grew. She was a wonderful little girl who Gwilym had grown to care for. She didn’t know what she was doing for Brianne, but Gwil did and how it helped her improve immensely. He had known his daughter had tried to hide her sadness from him. It was something she tried to do to prove she was strong like Angela but she didn’t need to. Gwil and her grandparents knew that Brianne had every ounce of Angela’s strength tenfold. 
As he pulled into the parking lot of the cheer gym he saw Y/N’s Jeep had not yet arrived. He also didn’t see Joe’s or Rami’s cars either which meant he would be alone. He would most likely have to face yet another conversation with Karen. Or he could just hide out in his car until his friends arrived. He shook his head for a moment, he had to go inside, he could handle this. As both young girls made their way inside, Gwil followed behind them making sure both safely got in the building. 
He signed both in at the desk where the young man who Gwil had learned was one of the coaches’ sons sat. He gave the teenaged boy a wave before moving to his usual spot in the bleachers. He had settled into the groove of sitting with everyone, Gwil sat on a lower bench due to his height, while Y/N sat on the bleacher bench above him so she could make eye contact easier. Rami would sit above her and then Joe would sit beside her, the four almost making a little diamond of security. His blue eyes looked around the room before he spotted her. 
Karen was talking to some of the other team parents, her eyes scanning the room for him. He dropped his head down trying to hide himself from her.
“Oh Gwilym!” She exclaimed, moving to him. Gwil sat up straight, damn he had been caught. He politely smiled and nodded. Please don’t come over, please don’t come over, please don’t come over… He repeated in his head, it was too little too late. She made her way over to his place of peace and quiet. 
“Hello Mrs. Digumi.” He said politely. Her smile grew. Damn, his British charm. She stood in front of him. 
“Please call me Karen.” She smiled still. “I wanted to ask how everything was going with Brianne. She is quite the little cheerleader. One of the best on the squad. Almost as good as my little McKenna.” 
“Thank you. I will tell her that later. She certainly seems to be enjoying it and that makes me happy.” He said honestly, maybe he was wrong about Karen. 
“You should have her over for a play date with my McKenna. You and I can exchange parenting tips or tips of some other kind.” She batted her heavily mascaraed eyes at him. He gulped softly. 
“I will have to talk to Bri about it and get back to you Mrs. Dig-Karen.” He corrected himself. 
“I am just saying Brianne seems like a very sweet girl and you don’t want her to get in with the wrong crowd before middle school. Popularity is key and my little McKenna is going to be one of the most popular girls in school. Just like I was. If Brianne settles herself with the likes of those children, her social life is over and I don’t want that for her or for you. Popularity is everything.” She said as she sat next to him. No, he wasn’t wrong about Karen.
Wrong crowd? What the hell, they are children not teenagers. He thought to himself before defending the children of his friends. Popularity is everything. What a bunch of bullocks. 
“Jasmine, Joey, and Selma are good kids. They are smart, fun, courteous, kind and they are Bri’s friends. They were the first ones to welcome her with open arms,” He said. Gwil was a bit taken aback that a grown woman would say something like that about ten year olds. If Bri and Jasmine weren’t on the mat about 50 feet away, he would have forgotten his manners and let Karen have it. 
“I don’t appreciate you talking that way about my friends’ children or about your child’s fellow teammates.”   He continued, his tone was serious and sharp. Her eyes went wide as she heard the manner in which he spoke. 
“Oh! I didn’t mean the kids! I meant, um, the parents.” She was quick to backtrack and try to fix her mistake. Her chance with the Welsh man slipping away. “Gwilly, you are new to all of this. I should have specified that I meant that if Brianne settles herself with the likes of the parents of those children, her social life is over. You both deserve so much but you are still so naive, honey.” 
“My name is Gwilym.” He stated. She had called him Gwilly, a nickname that Angela would lovingly call him after a few glasses of wine. How dare this woman even try to put herself in the same realm of love as his wife. 
“I am so sorry honey.” She smiled to try to cover up the large hole she had dug for herself. “Like I was saying to you that first practice those parents you have chosen to bond with don’t understand the mustang way.” It was clear to Gwilym that Karen intended to keep digging. “Especially Y/N, I mean she likes to pretend she was a good cheerleader because she was once a national champion herself. But she was the worst one of that team, I should know, I did date her brother.” Karen said as jealousy slipped between each word. It was clear to her that Gwilym cared more for Y/N than he would ever care for her. “They carried her to the gold medal and she got the recognition for it like everyone else. Even made her brother break up with me, how dare she. That bitch.” That was the final straw for him.  
“I am going to stop you right there, Mrs. Diguimi. I do not want to hear you ever bad mouth my friends or their children. Please understand I am friendly with you because I have to be. You are the team mom and I do not really like having issues with anyone. However, my daughter is the only reason I am here. Y/N, Joe, Lucy and Rami plus their amazing children came as an incredible bonus to all of this. You did not.” He said calmly. “Now please step away from me and know, this is the last conversation we will have that is not about fundraising or cheering information. I do not take kindly to people belittling others or their children for their own personal benefit. Thank you and have a good night.” 
Karen let out a breath of air through her nose, standing up quickly. Moving from the bleachers, staring him down. 
“Oh I understand.” Her voice dripped with sweetly sickening venom. “If you ever change your mind I am right over there with the good parents.” She moved to the other waiting ‘Stepford Stangs’. Gwil let out a long breath as a smile appeared on his lips. God, how good it felt to let her have it and god how he wished Y/N had seen him. She would be so proud once he told her. It was the sudden sound of two voices that drew him away from his fantasy. 
“I see you are on the list now.” Rami said as he and Joe joined Gwilym in the bleachers. 
“List?” He asked, tilting his head curiously. 
“I’ll let Joe explain.” Rami smiled. 
“It is Karen Diguimi’s way of saying you are cancelled until you apologize.” Joe smirked. “We just caught the tail end of what you were saying but from what we heard, it was fucking brilliant.” He said quietly enough for just the three men to hear. “Welcome to the list. I have been on it since the ‘I won’t let my underage child wash stranger’s cars in the shortest shorts debacle of last summer season.” Joe said. 
“Rami, how did you end up on the list? It seems like she likes you the most out of all of us.” Gwil asked. Rami chuckled. 
“I once asked her if the pom poms for adults were necessary at a competition because it was just one extra thing to carry.” 
“That’s not too bad.”
“She also hates my wife.”
“Ah, I see.”
“So we both reside on the list with Joe and Y/N.”
“What did Y/N do to get on the list?”
“What hasn’t she done to get on the list?” Joe laughed. “First it was being Dominic Y/L/N’s little sister during high school. Then it was becoming Jasmine’s key guardian when he died, then it was a few other arbitrary things I don’t remember, but most recently, it was getting you to be our friend instead of hers.” Joe said. 
“It’s a rite of passage to get on the list.” Rami said. All three men laughed as Gwil felt more at peace than ever before. Even though Karen had basically verbally bashed children in front of him and badmouthed Y/N, she did provide one key piece of vital information. Y/N as a former national champion for the Mustangs, maybe even on the same squad as his late wife. He marked it in his brain to ask her later. 
As practice started and the three men continued their conversation, still no Y/N. Part of Gwilym began to worry that something bad had happened. He checked his phone to see if she had called or texted but nothing. He tried to push the worry to the back of his mind as Joe began to talk about the upcoming competition this weekend. It was the same thing Bri had not stopped talking about for the past week. Even as he got her and Jasmine into the car today, they talked about their nervous excitement for it. 
Joe was going to ride up with Rami and Lucy. Figuring Gwil would want to carpool with Y/N. Actually all three of them, Joe, Rami, and Lucy, hoped something would blossom between the two. 
“Oh I hadn’t even thought to ask her. It is probably too late, I will just drive up myself.” He said he was a bit disappointed he hadn’t asked. 
“She’ll say yes if you do ask.” Rami smled. 
“She might not.” Gwil continued. 
“Oh no, she will definitely say yes.” Joe smiled slyly. Both men looked at each like they both held the same secret that Gwil wasn’t privy to. It was at that moment Y/N moved into the gym still in her work clothes. Her blazer that was once covering the purple silk blouse, was replaced by a jean jacket. She wore black slacks and black vans. 
“I don’t drive in heels, I don’t want to be responsible for that many lives.” She had told him their first Wednesday night dinner out with the girls. He knew that she kept a pair of black lace up vans in her Jeep for the drive home from the university. 
“Speak of the Devil and she shall appear.” Joe teased her as she sat in her usual spot. She laughed and Gwil’s heart skyrocketed into flight. 
“Ha ha. Good to see you, Mozzarella.” She snarked. 
“That’s Mr. Mozzarella to you.” Joe answered. Both tossing their heads back gently and laughed. There went Gwil’s pulse racing for a moment. 
“Did I miss anything?” 
“Gwil’s on the list.” 
“No!”
“Oh hell yeah!”
“How? Tell me! I have to know how Karen’s little lust for you somehow got you on the list.”
“Karen’s little what?” Gwil said. 
“Dude, she wanted to bone you.” Joe said. “Hard.”
“Bone?” He asked.
“Sleep with you, knock boots, cherry pick, dude I know too analogies for sex.”
“She’s married!” Gwil exclaimed quietly to the group. 
“Hasn’t stopped her before.” Y/N said. “Anyway, tell me how you got on the list.” 
Gwilym began to tell the story of her confrontation with Karen. His own smile grew as he watched Y/N’s own smile grow as he got to the words match. 
“Mr. Lee you are bloody brilliant.” She said, her hand rubbed his arm for a moment before she withdrew it. Gwil blushed. 
“It was nothing.”
“This is cause for celebration. You being on the list. We will all go out kid free and celebrate soon.” Joe said. 
“Sounds good to me.” Rami agreed. Y/N nodded, her eyes looking up and waving to Jasmine as the girl waved back. 
“Hey Y/N, did you know Gwilym here was going to drive to Trenton all alone?” Joe stated. Gwil’s eyes went wide as he looked at the man over Y/N’s shoulder. He felt his cheeks heat up.
“Really?” She asked.
“Yeah. He was going to drive by himself.”
“Why don’t you ride with me? It isn’t as long as a drive if you have a partner.” She offered him. Her Y/E/C eyes meeting his blue. A small smile on her lips.
“Um, you won’t mind?” He asked shyly. 
“No, it will be a treat to spend time with you alone.” She said honestly, all the room felt almost like it was silent around them. Joe and Rami watching the two just share prolonged eye contact. Gwil could almost swear there was a light pink tinge on her cheeks as well. 
“Then it's all set. I’d love to ride with you.” He smiled. The tinge got a bit darker. 
Joe poked his head between the two, “Is your, um, neighbor coming?” He asked her. His voice was almost giddy, like Gwil’s when he talked about Y/N on the phone to Ben. Who was this woman  that was making Joe act like the same lovestruck teenager he was?
“Oh no. Unfortunately, Jolene had one of her advanced painting classes rescheduled to Saturday. It is too much money to miss out on but she promised Jasmine she was coming to Regionals.” Y/N said as she raked her hair up into a messy ponytail. 
“Oh.” Joe’s smile faded quickly. 
“You know you could just ask her out. She likes you too.” Y/N patted her friend’s shoulder. Joe shook his head. 
“The divorce is still too fresh to Joey. It wouldn’t be fair to him for me to get involved with someone new so soon after his mother and I split up.” Joe admitted. Gwilym understood that point. A divorce was a similar loss to a child as a parent passing. Everything became different over night for them, changing so suddenly. Joe and his ex were friendly enough to a point for the sake of their son. The one thing that will keep them forever linked. 
“Okay honey. One day though, Joey is just going to want his dad to be happy.” She said with a soft smile to their friend. Joe just nodded looking over at his son. 
How Karen could ever call this wonderful woman a bitch was past Gwilym’s arena of thought. He looked at Y/N and smiled. God how beautiful she is even in the lighting of this gym. He thought to himself. As more time passed for the practice, the three experienced cheer parents told Gwilym everything he would need to know to be ready for Saturday. How he would have to have Brianne ready before 6 am to get her to the gym so that the team could take a bus together to the arena before driving there with Y/N. He would have to make sure he paced enough bobby pins, snacks, water, everything. His worry level that he would mess this all up grew. Especially the idea that he would have to do her hair in a high slick back ponytail. Brianne had hair like her mom’s thick and wavy, he could barely get it into braids without at least three Youtube tutorials. 
“How about this? I bring Jasmine over at like 5. I can do both of their hair and you can make sure they have enough snacks?” Y/N offered, once again being the incredible person that she was. 
“Please. I fear what I would do to my poor girl’s head.” He said honestly. 
“I think you would be fine, but the first competition is the scariest for both the parent and the cheerleader.” 
“It will put not only my mind at rest but Bri’s mind too. Thank you Y/N.” 
“Anything for you, Gwil.” She smiled. “Oh and um, thanks for standing up for the kids earlier with Karen. She can talk all the crap she wants about me but Jasmine doesn’t deserve that. It means a lot to me and it shows me how wonderful of a human being you are.” She said before turning her attention back to the mat. His heart raced again. God, Wednesday nights really were his favorite. 
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gamerwoo · 5 years
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[Tales from the Pack] Seungcheol: Stubborn (Part Two)
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Character: Seungcheol x female reader
Genre/warnings: werewolf au, fantasy, angsty fluff, mention of blood
Word count: 3,619
Summary: You’ve heard the stories your relatives told you about werewolves when you were younger, but you always thought it was just a scare tactic to make kids behave. Well, up until you woke up in a den full of werewolves.
Previous | Next | Stubborn Masterlist
The commotion down the hall was what woke you, and the first thing you saw when you shot up in bed was the wolf that had you in his arms before you passed out.
‘So it wasn’t a dream.’
You curled your legs to your chest, wrapping your arms protectively around your body as you stared at him, watching his every move. Despite the loud growling that caused you to duck your head in fear, he didn’t seem to get up to stop it. He knew he had to ignore it and be here to comfort you, the one who was destined to be his mate.
One of your hands slowly moved to where you typically kept your knife, only to realize it was missing now. Of fucking course it was missing. But that meant your only option was flight, and your chances of escaping weren’t good considering the first time you tried.
He didn’t like seeing you scared -- not only scared of the wolves that seemed to be going at each other’s throats from the sounds of it, but especially because you were afraid of him. The wolf in him whined, not liking seeing the fear he caused you. He also wanted to go down the hall and knock some sense into the younger wolves, but he knew the other two alphas would handle it themselves.
You really had to show up at an awful time when two of the wolves were going through heat. Then again, with so many werewolves in a pack, no time was really a good time. But did one of the wolves really have to be their youngest? And did the other have to be the only mated wolf in the house -- even if Mingyu thought he was being sneaky about it.
“You don’t have to be afraid,” his voice was soft when he spoke to you. You peeked up to look at him and saw his amber eyes matched his voice, and there was a slight smile tugging up at one corner of his mouth. “None of us will hurt you.”
“I can hear the growling,” you snapped, letting out a yip as you heard the roar of a wolf before hiding your face in your knees again.
As a thief, you were usually better with your hiding spots. However, you didn’t really have many options currently -- and you were usually hiding from humans and not werewolves.
“I’ll protect you,” he promised. He wanted so badly to go over to you, wrap his arms around you, and make you feel safe, but he knew you wouldn’t like that. “I’m stronger than anyone in the pack. Well, minus Minghao when he mimics-- …Never mind, that’s a whole other story.”
You heard the commotion getting closer, holding yourself tighter as if that would save you, before it faded again. Then it sounded like it was outside, and you slowly began to relax -- at least a little because you were still afraid of the wolf right in front of you. You raised your head again, only to see him still keeping his distance.
“If you’re not going to kill me, what was the point of bringing me here?” you grumbled, staring him down.
‘Because I love you,’ he wanted to say, ‘As soon as I saw you passed out on the forest floor, I felt the pull, and it’s never going away so I want to keep you with me.’
“Because you needed help,” he explained with a soft smile and a simple shrug. “You were injured. I wasn’t going to let you die out in the woods.”
“Then what do you eat?”
The boy burst out into laughter, making your face pull into a frown of confusion. You didn’t think the question seemed that outlandish considering the stories you had been told. Those stories were the only knowledge you had on werewolves.
“We don’t eat people, _____,” he told you, his laugh dying down to a chuckle as he wiped under one eye. “We do eat meat, but cooked meat. Unless we’re in wolf form and we’re desperate, but then we just eat like, rabbits and small animals.”
You felt your face blush softly as you averted your eyes. “Then why do humans seem to think you do?”
“Probably to scare kids,” he guessed. “We do tend to stay away from the outside world, but we’re affectionate to those we’re close to. Like…Danbi, for instance!”
“Is that the girl Jeonghan said wasn’t here?”
“Well, she’s here now. She was in town with one of the pack. She’s the younger sister of Wonwoo.”
“Who?”
“He helped you...calm down.”
“You mean the one who made me inhale that stuff?” you asked bitterly, raising your eyebrows.
Seungcheol frowned, “I’m not happy about that either, _____, I assure you. But yes, that’s him. We’re all very affectionate toward and protective of her. She’s part of the family. In fact, I think that’s what’s gotten one of them riled up right now…”
“What’s that mean?”
He let out a sigh and played with his fingers as he tried to figure out how to explain this to you, “Well…someone in the pack has gotten…special feelings for her, and--”
“So, he likes her?” you asked.
He shook his head, “No, it’s different for werewolves.”
“Different how?”
“Well, that’s difficult to explain right now…”
“Why right now?”
“You ask a lot of questions, _____,” he laughed, carrying on with what he was originally saying instead of answering any of your many questions. Your frown deepened. “Anyway, nobody knows about it, so they have to keep it a secret, but that’s difficult because... Well, it’s difficult to explain. Don’t worry about it, though. The pack bickers a lot but it always gets resolved.”
Seungcheol couldn’t help but roll his eyes and shake his head because he knew Mingyu and Danbi thought they were so sneaky about their feelings when him and the pack have always been able to tell that Mingyu imprinted on her. As if them sneaking out into the woods to probably have sex with each other without the pack hearing wasn’t a dead giveaway. Besides that, they were just always around each other and couldn’t seem to stand being apart, even if it was just being in separate rooms.
What he didn’t want to explain, though, was that Mingyu was feeling extra -- to put it bluntly -- horny because of mating season. But that also meant he was even more territorial over his mate, especially around another werewolf going through the same thing. Even if Chan didn’t want anything to do in that way with Danbi, Mingyu couldn’t help but get aggressive.
Your stomach loudly gurgled, signaling you were hungry, and Seungcheol let out another laugh as it broke him from his thoughts. You wrapped your arms tighter around your legs, bringing them to press closer to your stomach in hopes it would silence it because you knew what would come next.
“Would you like to go find something to eat?” he offered.
“No,” you snapped. “Whatever you feed me will probably be--”
“We don’t. Eat. Humans,” he stated, an amused smile on his face. “Seriously, you should really let that go. I’m sure Seungkwan will get offended.”
“Who?” you asked over the sound of your stomach rumbling again.
“He’s one of the younger ones,” he explained, standing up from the chair he was sitting in. “Now, we need to go find you food.”
“Can’t I stay up here?” you whined. The thought of the wolves that seemed to be fighting outside sent a shiver up your spine.
“I’m worried about leaving you alone when Chan and Mingyu are being so hot headed,” he told you, walking up to the bed and holding a large hand out for you to take. “Come on, you’re a lot safer with me. Everyone’s probably outside by now anyway, so nobody will bother you.”
Hesitantly, you took his hand and got up from the bed, your legs feeling a bit wobbly, but Seungcheol was ready to catch you. You still had those weird, familiar feelings about him, and they became more prominent when he touched you.
He led you out of the room and down the stairs to the kitchen. The yelling and growling had died down, but as Seungcheol said, the house was empty. You could tell he was worried by the way he glanced out of any window you passed, but he still opted to stay with you over his pack. You didn’t know why he’d do that but you didn’t bother asking since he didn’t answer your question about “special feelings” earlier.
“What’re you in the mood for?” he asked, peeling his eyes away from the window to look through the fridge.
“Anything,” you admitted, giving into the idea of food now that you were in the kitchen. “I haven’t eaten in a couple of days.”
His head snapped up, ember eyes boring into you, “A couple days?! I need to get food in you. Here, sit at the table.”
“Seungcheol, I’m--”
“Sit.”
His voice was commanding enough to make you sit in the chair closest to you. A warm smile took over his face when he saw you comply before he went back to the fridge, grabbing ingredients from there and the pantry before going over to the stove.
You lightly drummed your fingers on the table, watching Seungcheol’s back as he cut up vegetables and put a pan on the gas stove. Your eyes only peeled away when your stomach growled again and you looked away before he turned to laugh at you.
“Do you want a quick snack while you wait?” he offered.
Instead of answering his question, you asked him one, “Why’re you being so nice to me?”
It had been nagging you in the back of your head but you didn’t know if you should ask or not. But now that he was feeding you his food, you were more curious. He could’ve saved this food for the thirteen other mouths he had to feed, but instead, he was giving it to you.
“Because…” he trailed off as he tried to think of an excuse. Yes, he had saved you but that didn’t necessarily mean he had to be nice, right?
His thoughts were interrupted by the front door closing. He rushed over to the kitchen doorway to see who had entered, but your curiosity had you walking up behind him to peek out from behind his shoulder.
The first thing you saw was a silver-haired boy carrying a girl that had blood on her shirt and body, and was passed out in his arms. Your mind immediately assumed the worst, and your fight or flight senses kicked back in. You quickly assessed the options, remembering that your knife wasn’t with you anymore. There were kitchen knives, but could you really take on even just Seungcheol, let alone that many werewolves? So you ran toward the kitchen window, wanting to escape. This window was on the ground floor so you’d actually not break anything when you got out.
However, Seungcheol had faster reflexes and wrapped strong arms around your waist, groaning in your ear, “Can you please stop doing this?”
“They killed her!” you burst, not even stopping to think that the rest of the pack could hear you.
“They did not, she’s just asleep,” he told you with a sigh. “Come on, _____, why would we kill a pack mate’s sister? I think she just got scratched.”
“That means I could get scratched, and that’s a lot of fucking blood, Seungcheol!”
“You aren’t dumb enough to put yourself between two angry wolves,” someone said as they entered the kitchen, venom in their voice. He was much shorter than the boys you’d met so far, and the look he had on his face was of pure annoyance. “Unless you suddenly decide you give a shit about our wellbeing-- Well, maybe--”
“Jihoon,” Seungcheol cut him off.
Jihoon’s eyes flickered over to the boy behind you before rolling them and looking back at you, “Anyway, I suggest you just sit down and let Seungcheol take care of you. Even if you do escape, I’m sure he’ll track you down and bring you back here until you’re better.”
“I’m fine,” you hissed.
“Joshua said--”
“Oh, right!” Jihoon’s words reminded Seungcheol that Joshua stated you shouldn’t walk too much. So he lifted you off your feet and set you down on the counter by the stove. “This way, I can keep an eye on you better.”
“By the way,” Jihoon began again, stepping toward the two of you as if he didn’t care if you were frightened by him or not, “the rest of us are pretty hungry too after exerting all that energy.”
“What, all of you had to break those two up?” Seungcheol scoffed. “Make your own dinner. Do you know how late it is? I’m not cooking for that many.”
“No, half of us had to go track Mingyu down after he tried to run away,” the smaller wolf corrected. “Joshua’s still outside trying to heal Chan before anyone moves him.”
Seungcheol groaned, “Jesus, what happened?”
“Short version: Danbi put herself between Gyu and Chan because Mingyu was about ready to tear the poor kid’s head off. Her timing was awful, and Mingyu ended up hitting her instead of Chan. Gyu ran off because he was upset, but he got a few good hits in on Chan before any of that happened.”
Seungcheol pinched the bridge of his nose, his eyes closing as he sighed, “So they-- ...Okay, whatever. Is that it?”
“No.”
“What?”
“Nobody’s allowed to tell Wonwoo.”
-
The room you stayed in was apparently Seungcheol’s room, which meant one of three things: you were changing rooms, he was changing rooms, or you two were sharing a room. Some weird part of you -- the one that felt that weird connection to Seungcheol -- was hoping for the latter. That, and you were sort of terrified of the rest of the wolves living in the house. At least with Seungcheol, you had someone to use as a human shield.
Seungcheol had introduced you to each of the pack members as they entered the house, keeping the meeting short for your sanity. He was almost positive you’d start screaming again, especially considering how on edge you were about Danbi being unconscious. But at least now you could recognize faces, and you knew names. That was better than being completely confused.
Now that you were fed, and Seungcheol had made sure everyone was in their rooms, he went back into his bedroom where he had left you and smiled tiredly. “Alright, it’s way passed bedtime, _____.”
“I’ve slept like, half the day,” you frowned, not feeling at all tired.
“But you still have to heal more, and rest is good for that,” he told you, gently pushing your shoulders down to make you lay down. “If you prefer, I’ll sleep on the floor.”
“Isn’t that uncomfortable?”
“Wouldn’t sleeping with me be uncomfortable too?”
You just shrugged, unsure of how to respond to the question. Seungcheol chuckled and grabbed a pillow and an extra blanket off the bed before laying them out on the floor right beside the bed. You watched him, rolling onto your side to see him lay on the floor.
This only made you want to understand why he was being so nice to you even more. He saved you, brought you into his home, fed you his food, was keeping you safe from his pack, and now he was sleeping on the floor and gave you his bed. Either there was something he wasn’t telling you, or he had really great manners.
“Just let me know if you need anything,” he mumbled sleepily as he rested his head down on the pillow, amber eyes meeting yours once more before he closed them for the night. “Goodnight, _____.”
You just rolled onto your back and didn’t reply.
-
You woke up to more loud growling and banging, immediately making you feel on-edge. It didn’t help when it grew louder like it was coming closer, and then it was banging against your door. You sat up and shoved yourself into the corner of the bed near the wall like you had before, wrapping your arms around yourself and waiting for the door to inevitably break down as you hid your face in your knees. This wasn’t something you could fight or run away from. Any angry werewolf, you definitely couldn’t fight. And where were you supposed to run to? Even you knew it wasn’t safe to go outside this late at night.
Instead, you felt strong, warm arms wrap around you. Instead of holding you back like they usually were, they were holding you in a calming manner. It was…quite comforting; safe, even. Seungcheol softly rubbed your back and shushed your squeaks of fear whenever one of the wolves hit the door or wall.
“Don’t worry,” he told you softly, “one of the other alphas will take care of it. I’ll stay with you, okay? They won’t hurt you when I’m here.”
“Ugh, Mingyu! Go the fuck to sleep!” Jihoon’s angry voice shouted. “It’s the middle of the night, what could have possibly set you off?!”
“This really had to happen at the worst time...” Seungcheol sighed. “Normally, everybody gets along really well, I swear. I think-- Ah, it must’ve been Soonyoung going in to give him the medicine he was supposed to pick up from Soomin.”
“I just healed that!” Joshua’s sleepy voice whined, stomping up to the bedroom door.
Seungcheol chuckled as he listened to the pack mates wake up to yell at the territorial wolf, hoping maybe you could find humor in how idiotic his pack sounded, “That idiot is lucky Danbi is still out. She would be furious. Although, I don’t know if it’s more lucky that she’s passed out or Wonwoo’s clueless, because he’d definitely be at Gyu’s throat.”
You looked up at Seungcheol, a thought popping into your head, “How many alphas are there? You said one of the other ones would take care of it, so does that mean there’s multiple?”
“Yeah, there’s three of us.”
“‘Us’? So…you’re an alpha?”
He nodded with a proud smile, “Yup! Soonyoung and Jihoon are the other two.”
Your eyes widened as you looked at the boy with his arms wrapped around you. It wasn’t in fear, it was out of curiosity. He seemed too…nice to be an alpha. You figured the alpha wolf would be aggressive and mean, but Seungcheol was more like a puppy than anything.
“Why are there so many?” you wondered.
“We all just kind of clicked,” he explained with a shrug. “Soonyoung was originally his own pack with Jun, Minghao, and Chan; Jihoon was his own with Joshua, Jeonghan, Seokmin, and Seungkwan; and I was my own with Mingyu, Wonwoo, and Hansol. When we all met, we just…fit together. It’s like mating, we don’t really pick who our pack is.”
“Mating?”
Seungcheol mentally face palmed. He completely forgot he hadn’t explained that to you yet and was adamantly avoiding the topic. If he explained mating, you might catch onto his feelings for you, and then you’d be even more scared than you already were.
Instead of answering your question, his head perked up like he had heard something, and he unwrapped himself from you and got off the bed, stomping toward the door. He threw it open to reveal a whole mess of boys in a group, grabbing onto a wolf with shaggy brown hair -- who was gripping the shirt of another with platinum blonde hair who was clearly trying to stay calm about being shoved around.
“If you shift in this house again, I swear to god, Mingyu…” Seungcheol growled, his threat hanging unfinished in the air. His tone was enough to make the group freeze and look at him with wide eyes. “You’re scaring _____ and I don’t really appreciate seeing her upset.”
“Sorry, Seungcheol,” Seugnkwan squeaked since he was the closest to the door.
“I was trying to get him to calm down,” Soonyoung insisted, putting his hands in the air to show his innocence.
“Go. To. Bed,” he ordered before throwing the boy against the opposite wall, and slamming the door closed.
‘Yeah, that seems more like an alpha,’ you thought to yourself.
He turned around, and while he still looked annoyed, his muscles weren’t as tense as they were when he was yelling at his pack. He sunk down onto the bed again and looked at you, the annoyance melting away and being replaced with a soft look, “Are you okay?”
Meekly, you nodded, still hearing the shouting and snarling in the hall, but it was much less loud. It still worried you nonetheless because they could get in if they wanted to.
“That doesn’t look very okay.” he chuckled. “They’re still going to be angry, but they’ll at least stop fighting outside our door. I promise I won’t let them hurt you.”
Seungcheol wrapped his arms around you again, and this time, you leaned into him, tired and afraid and just wanting to sleep. You were way too fatigued to resist, and he was just so warm. He hummed deep in his chest and pulled you into his lap, letting you curl up and close your eyes as you listened to his heartbeat. It was oddly comforting -- maybe the most comforting thing you’d heard.
You genuinely felt safe, but you just blamed it on how tired you were.
There, you fell asleep in Seungcheol’s arms.
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sector-i-closed · 4 years
Text
ATEEZ's Reaction to You Going into Labor
Requested by a wattpad user
Asian Man x Black Woman
a/n folks are free to have their own opinions about these reactions.
Image credit goes to @myloveateez​
Tumblr media
Hongjoong: The contractions began while Hongjoong was at the recording studio, happening earlier then was expected because the due date was a few weeks away. You did your best not to panic and debated on weather to text him and let him know that your water broke or should you allow him to go ahead and finish up with work. You decided to do the latter since the contractions weren't that strong right now and you probably had hours before you would even fully dilate. Hongjoong arrived home after midnight, looking tired but happy to be back with you again. You was sitting on the couch, making the best of the situation. "The baby is coming." You blurted out. "Why didn't you tell me before now?" Hongjoong helped you to your feet, feeling a whirlwind of all of his worse fears of what could possibly go wrong with your pregnancy overwhelm him in that moment. "Because I think it's a long time before the baby will be born, just get me to the hospital and we'll talk bout this after the baby is born!" A stronger contraction ripped through you and Hongjoong put aside his displeasure at your stubbornness for now, feeling responsible for this himself since he was not here with you while your due date was weeks away. While he helps you to the car he can't help being amazed by how badass you are.
Seonghwa: You was fastening your seatbelt when you felt warm fluid gush from between your legs. "Fuck! Why now?!" You groaned beneath your breath. It was date night and you hated to interrupt anything. "Are you okay sweetheart?" Seonghwa looked over at you alertly. "Y-yeah, I think my water broke and I don't want to interfere with our date..." You chewed your plump lower lip anxiously. "The date can wait. Our baby can't." Seonghwa said firmly, starting the car engine and promptly driving you to the hospital. You wanted to argue with him but you knew he was right.
Yunho: Yunho was helping you with cooking dinner when he saw you suddenly freeze in place. "Honey I think my water broke..." Your breathing became labored as you panicked. "Y/N, Y/N we've got this. Everything is going to be alright. Just stay as calm as you can and regulate your breathing. I'll get you to the hospital." Yunho instructed you as he escorted you to the car. Remaining calm to try to keep you calm.
Yeosang: Yeosang was at work when he received a text from you, stating that you was experiencing labor pains and that you was going to drive yourself to the hospital. He immediately texted you back "hell no im coming right over and driving you hospital myself" You sighed and texted him back "cant ya find your chill" Yeosang texted back "Im only looking out for everyones wellbeing"
San: You was hyperventilating on the bathroom floor, experiencing the spasms that was making it feel like your entire reproductive system was being ripped from your body. Moans of pain eminated from your lips and the sounds was what grabbed San's attention. He entered the bathroom and found you sobbing into the tile floor. "Please make it go away!" Your brown, tear filled eyes pleaded with him. San threaded his fingers through your thick locks, looking emotional himself as he looked into. "I'm so sorry Y/N, I want to take away your pain but I can't. It will be better soon angel." He helped you to your feet and rubbed your back in comforting movements as he helped you to the car. Knowing that he would cherish this memory in spite of it being painful.
Mingi: Mingi was doing his best to maneuver the afternoon traffic, panicking because you was in the passenger seat experiencing terrible contractions. "Can't you make this car go any faster?!" You bit out, feeling yourself dilating quickly. "I'm going as fast as this fucking traffic will allow me!" Mingi was on the verge of tears, feeling frustrated with the situation at hand. "The baby's coming!" You cried out painfully, unable to fight the instinct to push the baby out of your body. "Oh shit!" Mingi stepped on the gas, passing cars and going as fast as possible without having an accident.
Wooyoung: You both were lying together in bed when your contractions hit and you did not hesitate to shake your significant other awake. "Babe, my water broke." You informed him loudly. "Okay." Wooyoung turned over and snuggled into his pillow. "Jung Wooyoung my water broke!" You smacked his ass to wake him up. "Ouch! Why didn't you just say so?" Wooyoung got out of bed and and got dressed to go to the hospital.
Jongho: He was enjoying the moment with you sitting in his lap while streaming a movie when he felt you stiffen. His hands were resting over your baby bump as he held you close to him. "Sunshine, are you alright?" He asked softly. "Yeah, I think my water broke though..." You trailed off, feeling uncomfortable at the moment. "Hold onto me, we'll get you to the hospital right now." Jongho scooped you up in his arms and carefully carried you to the car.
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