#imagine what people can make with the means to do so. man.

[waldau]

the most handsome man in the world — seventeen | 1,165 words | fluff

i just needed to get this out of my system okay

gender neutral reader. warnings: none.

premise: you tell your boyfriend you've seen a guy you consider to be the most handsome man in the world, wait for him to react, and then show him a picture of him that you took. you know, because he's the most handsome man in the world.

seungcheol

what do you mean you’ve seen a guy more handsome than him? isn’t he broad enough to fill up your entire line of vision? pouts at you cooing over said man on your phone till you hit a little nerve by saying the guy looks like he’d be so good to cuddle with that he immediately marches over to see who you’re giggling over. only to find his face staring back at him. immediately wipes off his frown and tickles you for having done something like that.

jeonghan

is aware that this has to be one of your traps where you want to draw a reaction out of him, so he holds out on giving any commentary for however long he can. it’s only when you roll over in bed, clutching your phone to your chest does he finally break, sneakily pulling you into himself so he can see who you’re talking about. it’s him, of course. had no doubt it would be him but he had to confirm. becomes the big spoon for the rest of the night.

joshua

you don’t ever bring up other people or their attractiveness in conversations, so joshua is mildly interested in hearing if you’re going to elaborate on this guy. doesn’t even consider said person to be a threat till you say something about this guy looking reliable enough to imagine a future with. his curiosity wins and he leans over to see his face lighting up your screen. gives you a kiss to remind you he’s going to fulfill that dream one day.

junhui

is torn between wanting to know who this person is and also not wanting to know because…do you actually find another guy more attractive than him? didn’t you say he’s the most handsome person you know? keeps to himself till you run up to him and show him your phone, only for him to see a picture he’d sent you when he’d been working out at the gym. makes sure to take some more photos for you.

soonyoung

laughs. oh, yeah? really? but then it turns out you’re not joking, because you’re blushing over someone he doesn’t even know? and you’re not telling him about it? chases you around the house to sneak a peek at your phone and collapses into a blushing mess when he realizes it’s him you’re talking about. gives you bear hugs and forces you to cuddle with him for a while to make up for the stress you caused him.

wonwoo

raises an eyebrow when he hears you talking about this really handsome guy you saw in the queue at the cafe today. gets curious the more you talk about him; how didn’t he notice this guy when you did? traps you in place against the wall to see who you’re talking about and can’t help but smirk when he sees it’s himself. gives you a smug kiss and tells you he wants to hear more about what you think of this guy.

jihoon

hears you, nods, focuses his attention back to the song he’s working on and wonders if it could use some more bass. it’s only when he’s about to finalize the song does he realize you were talking about…someone else? spins around to see you lounging on the couch and asks who you were talking about because he wants to jog his memory. feels slightly satisfied when he sees a picture of himself. so he did hear you right. he didn’t.

seokmin

he’s more curious about who you consider to be hot apart from him, more than the fact that this other guy could be a threat to him. indulges in you talking about this guy and theorizes about who it could be till you finally just show him who you were talking about because he apparently couldn’t get a hint. oh. it’s him. he blinks. almost squeals. peppers your face with kisses because his mind is all blank except for you.

mingyu

pouts. becomes a grumpy baby. even if you’ve seen someone more handsome than him (which is impossible, by the way), do you have to rub it in his face? feels more antsy the longer you talk to him about this guy. pulls the puppy face till you show him who you’re looking at. seeing his face on your screen is the last thing he expected, somehow. feels relieved for a few seconds before he makes you promise never to scare him again like that. takes payment in the form of cuddles.

minghao

another one who knows this is one of your ideas to get him to react some way. nods along and even says oh, really? when you tell him about how handsome this guy is, and how you feel kind of shy when you just think about him. doesn’t even need to look at your phone to know there’s no one else you’re talking about, so he tilts your chin to make you face him and presses a kiss to your lips, asking you if that’d help make you less shy.

seungkwan

you’re seriously talking about another guy? right now? stares at you in disbelief, at the fact that you’d do this after he spent his morning making you breakfast and cuddling with you because you seemed a bit exhausted. he’s sure he’s stared enough to burn a hole through your head. you roll over with a laugh and show him who you were looking at. it’s his own self bent over the stove, trying to figure out how to switch it on. pouts and doesn’t face you till you lure him with kisses.

vernon

overhears you talking on the phone with your friend about this handsome guy you saw while you were out on a walk today evening. you don’t stop talking about how he looked at you, how nice his smile was, and how good he looked against the setting sun. his brain runs in loops trying to figure out which guy looked at you like that while your hand was in his. opens his phone to see some pictures you’d taken of him, with the sun setting in the back. smiles and presses a kiss to your head when you’re done with your call.

chan

instantly competitive. him being drunk doesn’t change the fact that he’s the most handsome man in the world. struggles to pull himself out of your embrace to see who you’re talking about so he can give both of you a piece of his mind, only to find a picture of himself smiling goofily at the camera. that’s me, he says, mind a bit slow. where’s the guy you were talking about? turns out he’s the one you’re talking about. snuggles back into you like nothing was ever wrong.

taglist: @bookyeom @wootify @strnsvt @cloudycaramel @thepoopdokyeomtouched @minnieminshi @nonononranghaee @hrts4hanniehae @viewvuu

#seventeen #seventeen fluff #svt #svt fluff #fluff #coups #scoups #joshua #junhui #hoshi #wonwoo #woozi #dokyeom #minghao #mingyu #seungkwan #vernon #dino #waldau writes #ot13

[azullumi]

"honey in your mouth when you say my name" ; aventurine

premise— happiest birthday to the man who had stardust on his wake and the sun for a soul; he was warm and he was everything you have ever dreamed for. this is a gift to the man who knew cruelty all his life but remained kind despite the cracks and blood on his skin.

content tags — 2.1 QUEST SPOILER, established relationship, soft aventurine (WE SAY IN UNISON), angst and fluff, a few metaphors, mentions of death and blood, birthday sadness (idk what u call that), NOT PROOFREAD I DID THIS ON A RUSH, 1.4K ; one-shot (bullet-form)

note — i have exams tomorrow and a lot of things due but the moment i heard it was his birthday, i wrote this for him AAAAAAAAAAAAA

AVENTURINE can still remember the smell of rain the day blood filled the line of his vision. It’s horrifying, haunting, sharp in all of its corners as it finds him in a sunny morning when he tries to look for the pieces of himself scattered on his floor, hidden beneath the carpet (and when he lifts the pattern, he’ll find torn and broken memories of when he was still young and loved). For this reason, he is not really into the prospect of celebrating his birthday, not when the day is intertwined with grief.

He avoids telling people of his day, avoids thinking of it by burying himself in hundreds of paperworks and cases to handle. He can’t think of that day without thinking of death, without thinking of his sister who laid lifeless in the golden sands (she probably thought of him in his last moments), without thinking of his mother who prayed even when her knees and hands are bleeding (the rain came to her as a blessing, but for him it has become a curse), and without thinking of his father who never got to hold his son (he never knew what he sounds like).

He’ll remember everything, that was his curse.

He never celebrated that day, not anymore, not even once. Perhaps he tried, perhaps he went into the bakery with the thought of getting himself a cake and lighting a candle, perhaps he tries to seek beauty on the day that he was born, especially when it coincides with the day of rebirth of his goddess. Perhaps he did and perhaps the cake was left rotting in his fridge because he can’t seem to enjoy the taste of it when its reminiscence of the bitter rain and fresh blood. 

(He can’t bear the thought that silence was his only companion either) He’d like to think that the meows of the critters as they approach him translate to words that greets him a happy birthday, but how could they? It’s a silly thought, it’s not like they can understand him nor any of these stupid traditions, and it’s not like he can understand them either. So he still remains alone.

But there, you came—unexpected, unwavering. When you learnt of his birthday, when he told you of his past and every line that exists in his being, a shell of determination washes on the shore of your thoughts. It didn’t have to be grand, it didn’t have to be extravagant; you only wish to make the day memorable for him, even just for once. You wanted him to let go of the thorns and feel how nice it is to have nothing that makes your hand bleed.

Although, you must admit, you were anxious, scared, nervous, everything while you were preparing for it. I mean, sure, it’s just going to be something simple with you and him only, and you made sure that in some aspects of it, he’ll enjoy it. You know that the burden he carries is heavy on his shoulders, and letting go is never easy nor simple, but for once, you wanted to do something for him to ease the tension that lies in his thoughts and bones.

Imagine the surprise and confusion on his face when he comes home to his apartment smelling like freshly-baked bread, tangled with the scent of lit candles and flowers, and the aroma of food. Surely, this wasn’t a burglary, right? What type of burglar would leave rose petals on the path of his doorway leading to wherever? What type of burglar would spend the time to bake a cake and even cook dinner? And what type of burglar would dress up so pretty and smile at him while their hands are trembling behind their back?

There’s the sound of his voice calling out to your name and soon, he heard something cluttering followed by rushed footfalls, and there you were, peeking behind the wall with a nervous grin plastered on your lips. You greet, “You’re home early, I thought you were going to be late?”

“I was going to be but I decided to bring some of the leftover papers home instead. I didn’t know you were going to come by, you should have told me.” He answers, taking off his dress shoes and placing it on the rack, “I could have come home much earlier if I knew.”

You laugh, emerging from behind the wall, “It’s fine, it’s fine.” You try to find the words to say in your trembling palms and fidgeting fingers. If he knew of what you were planning, surely, he would stop you and you didn’t want that. Albeit you don’t recall him saying he didn’t want nor like celebrating his day, but he did mention that he simply avoids it—does avoidance equate to dislikeness or hatred? It was plaguing your mind.

He hums, ushering you to come close to him so he can wrap his arms around your figure, engulfing you in a hug as he rests his forehead on top of your shoulder. “Why are you so dressed up? What’s the occasion? I don’t recall setting a date for the both of us tonight.”

“Do you not remember?”

Panic quickly shot over him like a bullet as he stood up straight from his position, “We have plans tonight?! There’s nothing on my schedule for today so I thought.” He’s quick to utter apologies, anxiety seen on his face as he spoke. It breaks your heart a little hearing what he’s saying—he doesn’t even remember.

“‘Rine, it’s your birthday.”

Silence.

Disbelief outlines the line on his lips, “What?”

You bite the inside of your cheek, feeling like there is something that wraps and binds around your chest which suffocates you; It was your turn to panic, feeling it overwhelm the nerves of your body, “You mentioned it once, perhaps a few months ago. I wanted to make it a little special for you so I prepared something for us, for you. It’s okay if you don’t want to, I mean I can just—”

You were interrupted by him, your sentence cutting short, “Oh, love, you didn’t have to.” He cups your cheek, warmth seeping into your skin. You didn’t listen to his voice for so long to not be familiar with how it cracks and breaks when the words fall from his lips.

“But I did and I wanted to.” You answer, softly, reassuring him as you lean into his touch.

“Having you beside me already makes it all special.”

You laugh, eyes forming into a small crescent that reminds him of the moon, “And I want it to be more than just that kind of special.” And he sighs upon hearing your answer, it’s not one of frustration but it still has worry forming on your stomach as you swallow, “Are you mad at me?”

“No, how could I ever be mad at you? I’m just surprised.” He brushes the pad of his thumb across your cheek, gazing into your eyes with such affection and adoration as if the stars were born from his eyes. He presses a kiss on your forehead, whispering to your skin as if a small confession, “Thank you.”

How could he ever be worthy of you?

You hum, "I love you, Kakavasha."

Aventurine is grateful—it fills every gap and crack on his skin, soothing the scars of his flaws, and everything that sets him apart from his humanity. He never knew that cakes could taste this sweet, so kind and gentle as it melts on his tongue.

Slowly but surely, he soon let the warmth settle in his skin. The gray walls that surround that day are soon painted and drawn with different colors, with doodles that were made by your hands mixed with a few of his works. Perhaps the ocean of his grief will still haunt him but he won’t drown in it, nor will he find comfort in the cold embrace of nothing and everything that rejects him.

(Kakavasha, your sister would be so happy for you.)

And when the day comes once more, he’ll see and dream of the rain but not how bitter and heavy it was, but how it soon became warm and sweet, washing away the blood on his feet.

special mention to @toorurs, thanks for always being there for me even when i say the most nonsense of things or when my sheep genes are acting up 😔 i hope everything is going well for you and will go well for youuu!! sorry for being inactive AND NOT REPLYING TO YOUR TIKTOKS AAAA I SWEAR ILL BE MORE ACTIVE SOON I WILL REPLY EVEN WHEN YOU STILL HAVEN'T MESSAGED 👆 anyways this is a very short dedication note because gosh i still have to study hejsad ilyyyyy a lotttt please always remember that !!

© azullumi — do not plagiarize, copy, repost, nor translate any of my works.

#—stellaronhvnters. #aventurine #hsr aventurine #aventurine honkai star rail #aventurine x reader #star rail aventurine #aventurine hsr #aventurine x you #aventurine imagines #aventurine fluff #hsr imagines #hsr x reader #star rail #hsr #honkai star rail #honkai fluff #honkai x you #honkai imagines #honkai #honkai x reader #azul.writes

[skeletonsloverockcandy]

Man, each year I get to it, I love the May 5th entry and what it means. I take something new from it each time. Like last year I noticed the sacrifices and efforts the Driver and the other passengers made to try and save Jonathan, a stranger to them, by showing up early, by giving him gifts, by blessing him, despite the danger that puts them in. Especially when Dracula, as the driver, points it out to the Driver of the first coach, what he was trying to do, and scares him by pointing out what he said (despite it being heard far out of normal earshot and over the sound of horses galloping).

This year though, I notice that, but I see some of the smaller details too. Like how the mountains are full of blooming fruit trees, and how we are so used to the “gothic” aesthetic we almost forget it’s Spring. How Jonathan takes notice and comfort in the view, despite the growing unease he feels because of the people around him. He is trying to distract himself from how scared he’s getting based on their warnings. Warding him from the Evil Eye.

"No, no," he said; "you must not walk here; the dogs are too fierce"; and then he added, with what he evidently meant for grim pleasantry—for he looked round to catch the approving smile of the rest—"and you may have enough of such matters before you go to sleep."

I also take notice of this from the driver, as it’s almost a morbid gallows humor that he clearly knows to expect the wolves, and knowing what happens later, I’m sure the people here have a horrible fear of them, knowing what Dracula can do…and what he does to that poor mother later.

There were dark, rolling clouds overhead, and in the air the heavy, oppressive sense of thunder. It seemed as though the mountain range had separated two atmospheres, and that now we had got into the thunderous one.

We also get here what might be our first indication that the Count can control the weather to an extent.

They were driven by a tall man, with a long brown beard and a great black hat, which seemed to hide his face from us.

All I can imagine is Dracula in a fake beard now lol.

"You are early to-night, my friend." The man stammered in reply:—

"The English Herr was in a hurry," to which the stranger replied:—

"That is why, I suppose, you wished him to go on to Bukovina. You cannot deceive me, my friend; I know too much, and my horses are swift."

But God, this must have been terrifying for the driver and the passengers. What would Dracula do to punish them for trying to escape him? Would he dare make an example in front of the Englishman right now, or would he grant them mercy to say nothing else as Jonathan is unsuspectingly led to his doom, so they think.

"Denn die Todten reiten schnell"— ("For the dead travel fast.")

The strange driver evidently heard the words, for he looked up with a gleaming smile.

It feels like they’re all in on some sick joke that they know the punchline to, but Jonathan doesn’t, so with the dramatic irony, it feels like we the readers are the same peasants, trying to do anything to save or warn Jonathan but it’s already too late.

I also notice how quickly Dracula tries to shift the power dynamic with Jonathan, and have him doubt his sanity so soon, and he’s not even in the castle yet.

He drives him in circles to try and disorient Jonathan and make him feel even more lost, also keeping him out for far later and making Jonathan question if he’s dreaming or if what he’s seeing is real. I’d also bet more than anything that wine he offer Jonathan on the coach that Jonathan didn’t end up taking was drugged. Because it’s far easier to disorient an unconscious passenger in the dark than it is to disorient a conscious passenger. But he still does a pretty darn good job.

Then there’s the blue flames, which Jonathan doesn’t know how to react to as they seem supernatural and he doesn’t know how to rationalize it yet, so he takes it as if he’s dreaming.

This gave me a sort of shock, for I suppose the general superstition about midnight was increased by my recent experiences. I waited with a sick feeling of suspense.

Jonathan also has already felt the fear and nerves associated with the supernatural and superstition after what all of the townsfolk have told him, and later he tries to brush this off and rationalize again, try not to get too scared, but a part of him already realizes something is wrong.

Then a dog began to howl somewhere in a farmhouse far down the road—a long, agonised wailing, as if from fear.

I also want to point this out, as it’s right before the wolves surround the coach, but it’s the second time a “dog” has been mentioned howling in the night, and with this evidence, I bet Dracula uses the wolves as a threat to keep the peasants and townsfolk in line, as he can’t munch down on everyone. But it shows how powerful he is and what a threat he poses. I wonder who the wolves kill in the night.

Also how Jonathan, as an Englishman where there were no more native wolves, can’t even imagine that’s what they were and thinks they are dogs.

And it makes sense now that earlier when Jonathan was getting out his good ol’ polyglot dictionary, how the two words mean the same thing.

"vrolok" and "vlkoslak"—both of which mean the same thing, one being Slovak and the other Servian for something that is either were-wolf or vampire.

As Dracula, as we see later, can transform into a wolf himself, and so there is probably less distinction between the two in this culture than we have tried to establish in the modern day.

Once there appeared a strange optical effect: when he stood between me and the flame he did not obstruct it, for I could see its ghostly flicker all the same.

Ah, I wonder if this is an early indication that Dracula cannot be depicted through traditional means? Like how he can’t be seen in the mirror. Certain lights just, pass through him.

I shouted and beat the side of the calèche, hoping by the noise to scare the wolves from that side, so as to give him a chance of reaching the trap.

We also see Jonathan taking an active and proactive approach, in this manner trying to be helpful and aid his (what he assumes human) driver. With these sorts of actions already, I can see signs of the man who will pick up a shovel to try and do what needs to be done. Who takes a knife and vows action, not hesitating.

He is polite right now, he’s on business. He doesn’t know what’s coming. But regardless, that person is still in him, and he’s capable of taking great action and doing great things for the sake of survival and doing what he thinks is right.

And Dracula commanding the wolves to stop as the driver, and the cloud passing overhead, I feel is like a subtle display of power and threat to Jonathan. He’s still playing pretend, but when Jonathan does figure out he was the coach the whole time, and he plays coy, the Count knows Jonathan will remember this threat, and it feels that much more sinister.

Jonathan still questions and thinks he fell asleep, as he doesn’t see how he’d have missed the approach of the castle otherwise, but I think he was awake because it was dark, and the count was intentionally taking him a winding and confusing path under a lot of fear. Though if he did fall asleep, I’m that much more terrified about how Dracula was driving him about, now secure in the knowledge that Jonathan would be thoroughly isolated and lost.

And the thing that nearly gives Dracula away twice as the driver is the strength of his grip on Jonathan’s hand, also lacing a subtle threat.

through these frowning walls and dark window openings it was not likely that my voice could penetrate.

Well this is just scary knowing how trapped Jonathan becomes later, knowing he wouldn’t be able to hear the outside world, and how the outside world might not be able to hear him, and how he’s already acknowledging that.

The time I waited seemed endless, and I felt doubts and fears crowding upon me. What sort of place had I come to, and among what kind of people? What sort of grim adventure was it on which I had embarked?

He already is expressing doubts and fears, he isn’t ignorant of what situation he might be in, and it’s only later when he tries to rationalize with the count and is given the comforts manipulation of food and sleep, that he tries to dismiss these fears and take the Count at his word.

Was this a customary incident in the life of a solicitor's clerk sent out to explain the purchase of a London estate to a foreigner? Solicitor's clerk! Mina would not like that. Solicitor—for just before leaving London I got word that my examination was successful; and I am now a full-blown solicitor!

Okay, this is just really cute. Mina said You passed the Bar, you Deserve to call yourself a Solicitor Jonathan <3

Also explains a lot that Jonathan is a fresh faced baby lawyer who just passed the bar and needs this assignment. He’s probably hoping that after this pay day he can marry Mina and have enough for them to start making a life together. Also says a lot for Dracula’s strategy to him to get someone young, inexperienced, and unfamiliar with the area, who might be seen as “expendable” so that Jonathan’s sudden “disappearance” might go unremarked by those in charge (though Mina would notice).

I began to rub my eyes and pinch myself to see if I were awake. It all seemed like a horrible nightmare to me, and I expected that I should suddenly awake, and find myself at home, with the dawn struggling in through the windows, as I had now and again felt in the morning after a day of overwork. But my flesh answered the pinching test, and my eyes were not to be deceived. I was indeed awake and among the Carpathians. All I could do now was to be patient, and to wait the coming of the morning.

Again, those early signs of doubt and fear from Jonathan, showing his unease already at the situation. We did not deserve to be clowning on him so much when this book club first started. It’s not his fault he’s not genre aware 😔 I’m sorry Jonathan.

And when Drac does show up to open the door:

"Welcome to my house! Enter freely and of your own will!" He made no motion of stepping to meet me, but stood like a statue, as though his gesture of welcome had fixed him into stone.

I wonder if he’s like that because he needs to be invited into places to be there, so if it’s almost like a supernatural hold of importance for him to offer the same thing. Almost like a subtle joke or curse with the knowledge that after Jonathan enters, he won’t be allowed to leave of his own will

holding out his hand grasped mine with a strength which made me wince, an effect which was not lessened by the fact that it seemed as cold as ice—more like the hand of a dead than a living man.

I also like how all the clues are there, and since Jonathan has written them down and taken note of them, the expression on them must be some of the things he’s piercing together about his own fears as well that he’s afraid to voice aloud or in his journal, because if he voices his suspicions, they might become more real to him.

The strength of the handshake was so much akin to that which I had noticed in the driver, whose face I had not seen, that for a moment I doubted if it were not the same person to whom I was speaking

See? He knows what’s up, he’s just afraid to say it.

I also didn’t pick up that Jonathan’s room is octagonal for some reason. I wonder if there’s any reason for that or symbolism with the 8 sides?

Also the letter from Mr. Hawkin’s feels very ominous in retrospect knowing what’s coming and how Dracula will treat Jonathan:

"I must regret that an attack of gout, from which malady I am a constant sufferer, forbids absolutely any travelling on my part for some time to come; but I am happy to say I can send a sufficient substitute, one in whom I have every possible confidence. He is a young man, full of energy and talent in his own way, and of a very faithful disposition. He is discreet and silent, and has grown into manhood in my service. He shall be ready to attend on you when you will during his stay, and shall take your instructions in all matters."

I feel like Dracula knew to take advantage of that, and also this feels like him basically reading the menu for an ideal victim once his business is said and done, so I get shivers, brrrrr.

Hitherto I had noticed the backs of his hands as they lay on his knees in the firelight, and they had seemed rather white and fine; but seeing them now close to me, I could not but notice that they were rather coarse—broad, with squat fingers. Strange to say, there were hairs in the centre of the palm. The nails were long and fine, and cut to a sharp point. As the Count leaned over me and his hands touched me, I could not repress a shudder. It may have been that his breath was rank, but a horrible feeling of nausea came over me, which, do what I would, I could not conceal.

I also like that while Jonathan is describing Dracula, he notice his hands. And I am also struck with how little it is brought up that he has hair on his palms, and I can see the more wolf-like nature of this vampire mythology. I wonder if Bram Stoker intended for werewolves and vampires to be the same thing in his novel? They are certainly compared and have similar powers and weaknesses, so it’s possible I guess.

Also Dracula has corpse-breath lol. Nasty.

I saw the first dim streak of the coming dawn. There seemed a strange stillness over everything; but as I listened I heard as if from down below in the valley the howling of many wolves.

Ah ha! Also the first foreshadowing we get for the importance of dawn and dusk in the novel, as we know later how important timing becomes for our protagonists, so seeing its affects already make me smile at the recognition of the signs so early.

"Listen to them—the children of the night. What music they make!" Seeing, I suppose, some expression in my face strange to him, he added:—

"Ah, sir, you dwellers in the city cannot enter into the feelings of the hunter."

And ah, an iconic line. Though I just get second hand angry and uncomfortable at Dracula’s insistence that he’s a “hunter” 🤢. God I just hate him haha.

I am all in a sea of wonders. I doubt; I fear; I think strange things, which I dare not confess to my own soul. God keep me, if only for the sake of those dear to me!

And literally Day 1 of being in the castle and Jonathan is already questioning his sanity and piecing things together he’s afraid to even voice in his journal. This is the second time in as many days he has already wished that those around him find this journal and laments should anything bad happen to him. It creates the impression of one who knows they’re walking into danger but must go on anyway.

But I love Jonathan so much, and I definitely really like the May 5th entry, and it does so much work to set up what happens later.

#dracula daily #dracula #Dracula daily may 5 #Dracula may 5th #jonathan harker #count dracula #re: dracula #dracula meta #my post #original post #Skele talks #skele talks Dracula #long post #skele analysis #Dracula analysis #mina murray #mina harker

[weebsinstash]

Really contemplating the possibilities of yandere Vox but you meet him as his employee

--"this could've been an email" but it's your yandere boss constantly forcing you into unnecessary company Zoom calls which may not be occasionally just the two of you and he may or may not try and make himself look more cool/handsome with some sort of dumb filter or trick of his (and also your coworkers can kinda lowkey tell why they're suddenly getting pulled into calls where your boss is making them cringe trying to make your oblivious ass laugh or something and they all kinda hate you for making their jobs more annoying actually 😅 so then you have Vox potentially being a shoulder to cry on if people are being mean to you--)

Actually, about that office bullying.... something like... you overhear your coworkers in another room or around a corner or something talking shit and making fun of you to the point you start to cry and you turn around and Vox is there watching you totally about to boo hoo baby sob and you like, have to borderline run away from him because you're crying and you're hurting and just want to get away from everyone, but you also don't want to embarrass yourself and make some sort of scene where they'll mock you even more, so you're just, excusing yourself in tears, not even talking to Vox, not even confronting the others.

Here's Vox, just ever so casually popping his head into the room where your coworkers are still mocking you, "hey you guys? :) you're fired! :D and also? Since I own your souls, how about you do as I say aaaaaand go tell Valentino he's allowed to shoot you?" and Vox then goes to comfort you and says the gunshots are "like, a trespasser or something, it's so weird, so, um, anyways, I was thinking maybe you and I could--"

--VoxTek already having or suddenly installing crazy biometric surveillance state level equipment all over their portion of the tower, which includes a security camera in every office/workspace (which of course means there's ESPECIALLY one in yours). This man would be all but drooling over your retina scans, talking about how gorgeous your eyes are, all counting every pore or hair or scale you have on your face in extreme up close detail

--One on one training where if you mention even the slightest interest in something, he's completely indulging you or at least hearing you out. You wanna learn something coding-related? You wanna learn about music production? Oh, you say you have a product idea? And an idea for a commercial for it too? And if you're actually GOOD? If you, at the very least, give him solid ideas to build off of? Now you're getting an even bigger promotion to, say, his executive creator director or something! Maybe he'll invent some new position just for you and absolutely no one in the company will tell you about it because they're threatened with something much much worse than termination if they do

He does want his boo to feel important and special 🥺❤️ like he's a grown man from the 50s, he's older than you no matter what, but especially he's kinda coddling you a little if you're in your 20s or especially young like 18, he's got major cute aggression for you

--You're just in the company break room trying to enjoy your lunch and.... why is the head of the company in here with the normies? Oh, of course it's to sit with you. I can't help but think he probably eats a really shitty, processed, kinda typical modern gamer diet despite having the money to indulge himself, probably does on occasion, but, I can really see him appreciating a home cooked meal and ESPECIALLY if it's by you.

D'ya.... d'ya think he'd just... stick his fork in your lunch... and you wouldn't feel like you could say anything because He's A Fucking Overlord

--Imagine you've been employed like MONTHS before he becomes aware of your presence as an employee and, you started as a barely paid intern or, something real low level, SO low level that, Vox doesn't actually own your soul. So. After several MORE months of buttering you up, really giving you some good raises, some absolutely AMAZING fun times, he's dropping the bomb on you: everyone else at the company has their soul signed over, and you're the only one, and, honey, it's kind of company policy, so--

When I say I would love the idea of Employee Reader just IMMEDIATELY "w wait you wanna... What the fuck do you mean you wanna 'own my soul', why, why the fuck would you-- you know what, nah, I'm, I quit? I quit." And you're literally fleeing the fucking room, potentially having to jump out a window in case Vox has some sort of, lockdown defense mechanism, maybe one to keep angels out, but, you escape, and next thing Vox hears?

"Wait, what do you fucking MEAN 'THEY'RE A SOUND MIXER FOR THE RADIO DEMON NOW'--"

#alastor can mix on my sound til i *static noise sound effect* #yandere x reader #vox x reader #yandere hazbin hotel #hh #sinprompts

[gators-aid]

decode (pt. 5) - toji f. x reader

masterlist

part four | part six

you and toji fushiguro have been in an on-again-off-again relationship all throughout high school. over the summer break after graduation, you find out you're pregnant. too bad toji has already skipped town after your last breakup.

tags: fem!reader, cheating, mention of spiking drinks (nothing happens, just mentioned in passing), americanized setting, non sorcerer universe, 00's setting, reader is megumi's mom, exes to lovers (eventually), their relationship is toxic rn, not beta read we die like toji :(

wc: 2.9k

Present

“Please make your decision quickly. I think the fuckin’ cops are looking for me.” He says. His voice sounds deeper than you remembered. You thought you had imagined it in the diner, or that his change in tone was a consequence of his anger toward his brother, but there was no denying it here. You glaze over that comment about law enforcement apparently searching for him.

He was leaning slightly out the window of his truck, etching toward you so that you could hear him over the sound of the surrounding traffic. You feel Megumi tug on your jacket, so you look down at where he’s tucked in. 

You always knew he looked just like his father, your mind tormented you with that fact every waking moment, but it was hitting you now. Here you had the framework to sit and compare their faces from more than memory alone. 

Needless to say, all of the pictures you had of Toji had been destroyed after you found out he left town. All of the clothes he had given you or left in your room had been donated when you moved out of your mother’s house. You had no physical reminders of his existence aside from the child the two of you shared and the golden angel necklace that sat tucked away at the back of your dresser. It was sitting against the back of the drawer, tucked away in a pair of polka dot socks that you never wore. You couldn’t bring yourself to let go of that one.

“Momma, that man is swearing.” Megumi says in his sweet voice. You grimace. Is this how you wanted your son to meet his father? In response, you rub his back and try to muster a smile. “I know, baby.” You whisper to him. “We can talk about swearing later.” Megumi had taken “Don’t say ‘fuck’, you’re only four” to mean, “anyone that swears, including adults, should be chastised.” You would have to redo that lecture. 

You really, really shouldn’t get in the truck. You should carry on with your life and pretend that all of this never happened. That Toji isn’t in the flesh in front of you, looking more handsome than you had ever remembered. Looking just like his fucking son. So much like his son that it felt like you were being taunted. He could never deny Megumi again once he saw his face. Even people who weren’t close to you could see the resemblance. 

It’s cold, you justify to yourself as you adjust Megumi in your arms and stand up from the bench. We’ll get home quicker, you think as you round the front of his truck towards the passenger side. You’ve run out of excuses by the time you’re opening the door and sliding in his truck. 

There are countless reasons why you shouldn’t have even looked up while you heard him call you. For starters, the fact that he just said law enforcement is allegedly in pursuit. He’s been back in your life for less than an hour and you’re already doing stupid shit.

What the fuck. You keep Megumi tucked into your chest tight as you sit down in the truck. Megumi is facing his father, trying to get a read on the man his mother had broken the rules for. 

“Okay baby,” You had said to Megumi merely weeks prior, “If a stranger asks you to get in the car with them, what do we say?” You ask him, holding his little hand in yours. 

“My momma said no!” He says. The two of you were sitting on your living room floor, with a blanket under you and watching The Little Mermaid on DVD. You had to save costs wherever you could, and those costs did not include cable. After watching Ariel go into Prince Eric’s palace-house within the first couple of hours being a human, you felt it appropriate to give Megumi the kidnapping talk. He takes a bite of the apple you had cut for him earlier. 

“And what if the stranger said, ‘I’ll give you Pokemon cards if you get in the car’?” You ask him. “I don’t even like Pokemon anymore!” He says proudly, in response to the hypothetical stranger. “What? Since when?” You asked, slightly horrified that you weren’t as attuned to your 4-year old’s interests as you thought. “Since the stranger asked me, momma.” He replied simply. 

This exchange must be very odd for Megumi. You had done your best to raise him right. The best that you could with the resources you had. You tried to teach him hard rules. Don’t talk to strangers, wash your hands before you eat, for the love of god please do not stick forks in the outlets. Now the ‘no strangers’ one was out of the window. It would be tough to explain this. Another lecture to redo.

Toji’s got his eyes on the rearview mirror, looking back at the diner. “Jinichi called the cops on me, the fucking asshole,” He mummers that last part to himself. “So where am I taking you?” Blunt and to the point like always. You give him your address before you could even think about it. Megumi’s tugging on you again to indicate he heard that comment, but you’re slightly out of it. 

There’s a big tear that exposes the cushion of the seat you’re on. You had left that there a lifetime ago when you drunkenly stole Toji’s knife and acted out a confrontation between you and a random girl that was hitting on him. That was one of the many nights that ended in laughter instead of tears.

 It smells exactly the same, he still uses the black ice scent for the little tree hanging from his rearview mirror. He’s still got his CD collection strapped to the sun visor on the driver’s side of the truck. It’s grown since the last time you saw it, expanding to the passenger side sun visor as well. There’s still a mysterious dark stain that you don’t feel comfortable speculating on the nature of in the floorboard. Evidently, he never managed to get it out. 

It’s too much. You have to fight to hold back tears. You had told yourself to never give an ounce to this man again. No tears, no anger, nothing. You had broken that in the diner earlier. It would not happen again.

You should have told him to take you to your mom’s house, so he wouldn’t have any kind of access to you or Megumi. Why would you give him your own address? How fucking stupid. 

It’s silent in the truck. You weren’t going to say anything, you might burst into tears if you opened your mouth. You had sat Megumi on your right side, away from Toji. He was pressed in between you in the door so that you wouldn’t have to be any closer to the man than necessary.

 You still don’t know if Toji had gotten a look at him yet. You take a moment to study the man. He’s got both hands on the steering wheel, sitting pin-straight in his seat. His eyes are very pointedly on the road, as if he’s trying not to look over. If the whites on his knuckles were indicative, and after spending years with him, you knew they were, Toji had already figured it out. 

After that call four years ago, you had a lot of time to ponder Toji’s reaction to you telling him about Megumi. Logically, you knew he was doing what he always did. Avoiding it because he didn’t wanna deal with the prospect of it. The same way he cheated on you to try and get you to run like you should have. The same way he used to pick a fight just to see if that would be your final straw. He denied Megumi because he had some weird psychological avoidance issue. 

Emotionally, you couldn’t see it as anything other than him being selfish while you gave your life to your child. Literally, that’s what it was. 

You were too busy looking at him to notice you had pulled into your apartment complex. 

“Um..” He clears his throat. “Which building do I drop you off at?” Drop you off. You scoff out loud. Of course. He finds out the kid really is his, and he’s avoiding us again. 

“The second one.” You say. You don’t know what you expected. For him to immediately pull Gumi into a hug and move in with you within the hour? Yeah fucking right. 

“Mama, can I play with the Christmas tree when we get home?” Megumi had asked you as your apartment came into view. ‘Christmas tree’ was one of his favorite games to play, where he got all the pots and pans from the cabinets and stacked them on top of each other to make a “Christmas tree.” It was a very messy game that required you to rewash all of your dishes when you were done, so it was a rule that he had to ask for permission before playing. The game had started when last year, tips were slow and you were late on your electric bill. You had already asked your mom for help that month, and refused to do it again. This, of course, meant that there was no money for a christmas tree. After Megumi’s December birthday and the one christmas present you could afford, you had to find some way to explain to Megumi why he couldn’t have a tree like the one at grandma’s house. “We have a better one.” You had told him, “One that you can play with all year long.” 

Needless to say you had cried yourself to sleep that night. 

“We’ll see, Megumi.” You say. The truck comes to a stop in front of your building, and without a word you’re grabbing Megumi out of the truck and slamming the door shut. Not a word said to Toji, not even a glance directed his way. 

It had started sprinkling rain on your drive over. This morning, your mom had called you to let you know there was a flood warning for the next city over. You usually didn’t take those entirely too seriously, waving her off when she had asked you to bring Megumi and spend the night at her house. 

The apartment is two stories tall with stairs on the outside, so you hold Megumi’s hand in yours as you slowly traverse up the stairs. He was skilled enough to walk up them on his own, but after an incident where he took a small fall down them, you were slightly paranoid. 

By the time you’re unlocking your apartment door, you notice that you hadn’t yet heard Toji’s truck pull away, so you glance back to see him still sitting there, waiting for you to get inside. For a moment, the two of you lock eyes. You can feel your heart drop as you usher Gumi in the house and close the door behind you. Don’t give him an ounce. 

You hope and pray that that is the last time you will ever have to think about Toji Fushiguro. The last time until Megumi gets old enough to realize his last name is different from yours. The last time until he asks you why all his friends in school have two parents and he only has one. The last time until he gets old enough to ask why you and his dad never made it work. Until you have to hold him as he cries and wonders why Toji never wanted him.

You let Megumi play Christmas Tree so you can lock yourself in the bathroom for a moment to compose yourself. 

By the time you get Megumi bathed, fed, and ready for bed, it’s eight at night, and the rain outside has been pouring heavily for a couple hours. Gojo had texted you to let you know that the tips had been good that day, but you had a feeling he was lying so he could slip a bit of his parent’s money into what he “owed you.” The diner was never busy on the Monday lunch shift. 

You had made spaghetti that night, a common occurrence in your home and something you were grateful Megumi hadn’t gotten tired of yet. Occasionally, you would get the kitchen guys to sneak you a meal in a togo box to offset grocery costs and eat something different every once in a while. Nanami was one of the cooler managers, which was why you were more comfortable asking that Megumi sit in the diner while you worked that day, but he was not one to let free food slide. 

The night was surprisingly peaceful once Megumi was distracted by his toys and tonight’s DVD movie, Toy Story, which Shoko had gotten him for his birthday. You were distracted by cleaning every single pot and pan you had after Megumi was done playing with them.

Once the two of you sat down for dinner, the inevitable questions came, and Megumi had asked you about the encounter with Toji earlier that night. 

“Mommy, why did those two guys at your job,” he took a breath in between his sentences and spaghetti, “start hitting each other, and then why did you got in one of their cars?”

That was a long conversation about how some brothers (you had let that slip), don’t get along, and how you had already known Toji, though you didn’t say from where or why. Thankfully, Megumi was more curious about why brothers and sisters fight than why his mother got into this random man’s truck. You would definitely have to revisit the “stranger danger” talk. 

It’s about 11 at night when you hear a booming knock at your door. It had pulled you out of your “almost-asleep” daze on the couch. You had already put Megumi to bed by then, and were taking a couple hours to yourself before you went to bed too. You prayed the sound hadn’t woken him. 

Whoever it is knocks again, this time harder and faster. Now that you have more mental capacity to process that, someone uninvited is knocking at your door at an inappropriate time of night for a single mother, you dash across your living room to grab the baseball bat you keep by the door. You’ve never had to defend yourself and your son in this capacity anymore, and suddenly the adrenaline kicks in, and you squeeze the wooden slugger to center yourself.

The only light in the room is coming from the TV, playing the play menu of Clueless on repeat. You must have been asleep longer than you thought. Hoping not to be seen through your shadow by the window, you slowly crane your neck up toward the peep-hole of your apartment door. What you see is the last thing you expected.

Of course it’s Toji. Of course he wouldn’t just leave you alone. You’re such a fucking idiot. 

For a second you contemplate on whether or not you should open the door, but when he bangs again, somehow even louder, you fear that he won’t only wake up Megumi, but the entire apartment complex.

You put the bat back down and unlock the door, pulling it open slowly so that he would only be able to see half of your body from the angle he’s positioned at. He has his hand leaning on the doorframe, and his figure is hunched over to the point he has to lift his head to look you in the eyes. When he does, you realize what this is. He’s drunk.

His eyes are bloodshot red and watery. He’s soaked from head to toe, he had clearly walked through the rain from wherever he was coming from, or stood out in it for so long that he was drenched. He had a bottle of vodka in his hand that wasn’t against the doorframe, hanging precariously from his grasp like he would drop it at any moment. You couldn’t see how much was in it from here, but you knew he had to have drank quite a bit for him to be in this state. 

It’s only when he looks you up and down that you realize you’re only in an old t-shirt and underwear. If this were anyone else, you would’ve squirmed under their gaze, maybe ran to go throw something on, but with Toji, as dumb as it sounded, you couldn’t care less. 

“What are you doing here?” You ask him.

He says nothing, just looks you up and down again and takes a shot from the bottle. 

“Did you drive here?” He nods. Well that’s not fucking good. 

You wait for him to say something, to explain why he felt entitled to knocking on your door in the middle of the night soaking wet with nothing to say. Or maybe you’re waiting for him to explain why he left you in the first place without saying a word. Maybe you’re waiting for him to explain why he never even felt the need to come check if Megumi was his. You’re waiting for a lot of explanations? But you don’t get a single one.

In a voice that can only best be described as broken, he softly slurs out, “You… you named him Megumi?”

very... very sorry for the wait. that semester ended up kicking my ass. no excuses i am very sorry D;

if you wanna be off the taglist lmk

comment to be added to the taglist

taglist: @mechalily @nialiuwanderlust @xo-evangeline @ilovebattinson @cherrypieyourface @amaiyasha @erensslut @heyauntieeee @verypeanuttrash @vlsquuu @ryuv1i @tqd4455 @blkmystery @planetlina444 @mimiemie @queendessi24 @just-pure-trash @baji-keisukes-wife @sylvermoon

#jjk x reader #toji fushiguro x reader #toji x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #toji x y/n #toji x you #toji fushiguro

[marnikula]

Hey! I was wondering if you would be able to write a post about a Derek x reader where Derek is in the hospital after getting shot and the reader is just so distraught and bursts into his room, but plot twist, no one knows that they are in a relationship except for Garcia, who let the reader know, and they are all so confused.

Also, I imagined it as a female reader, so if you are comfortable, could you do that?

Hey! Sure, I can do that for you😊

Not my best work, sorry about that, but I hope you enjoy none the less

CW: Injury, female reader, mentions of gun shot, hurt / comfort, talks of deatb

✨Enjoy!✨

You have never felt your heart drop so quickly and so violently into your shoes before that moment. "He just went into surgery, I don't know how long it's going to take for him to come out, I called as soon as I could."

Derek was shot. He was in surgery. He was shot. Shot. He could be dying. He could be dead.

Shooting out of your seat you grabbed a bag and flung all of your necessities in it, letting Garcia know you were on the way before hanging up the phone. He was in California, 6 hours away by plane and you hadn't even bought tickets yet, you didn't have anywhere to stay. You knew you were being rash rushing to the other side of the country without a plan, but you didn't care. The love of your life was on an operating table and you weren't there.

Hailing a taxi to the airport you finally took the time to book a flight, thanking whatever higher power there was for the fact that the soonest flight out was in less than an hour and praying that you would be able to make it.

===============================

Rushing into the hospital, your bag still in hand, you ran up to the front desk.

"I'm looking for Derek Morgan's room, he was shot, can you tell me where he is" even to your own ears your voice sounded frantic, like you were hanging on by a thread. And to be honest you were, you just needed to know that Derek was okay. "What is your relation to the patient?" "I'm his girlfriend"

After getting his room number from the nurse you practically flew up the stairs, not having the patience to wait for an elevator. Seeing his room you moved even faster, breaking into a sprint and almost knocking a tall and lanky man over in the process. Shouting your apologies behind you, you were met with a door, slowing down just in time to not run against it.

You were in such a flurry of relief seeing Derek alive and awake that you didn't even register the rest of the people in the room as you rushed in, dropping your bag at the door and enveloping him in a hug. His good arm reached around you and hugged you back as tightly as he could muster, which was still pretty tight considering he had just woke up from anesthesia.

Kissing the top of your head Derek spoke the first word between the two of you: "Hey princess, what are you doing here?" You shoved yourself out of his embrace, still sitting on the bed and letting the agitation you felt show on your features

"What am I doing here?! Seriously? You got shot and went into emergency surgery and you're asking me what am I doing here?!" "Whoah baby, calm down, I'm fine, doctors said I'll make a full recovery, no lasting damage except for some scarring" your reply followed, with a smack against his good shoulder as well "Don't you ever, and I mean *EVER* do that to me again, do you understand?! I was so scared that I would loose you" "Baby, I'm so sorry that I scared you, but I'm fine now, and I promise to try my best not to get shot again. It ain't exactly fun you know. Now do I get a kiss or what?"

A loud clearing of a voice broke the two of you out of your little world. "Are we perhaps interrupting something?"

"Rossi, man, I respect you and all, but please, get your and everyone else's asses out of my room so I can spend some time with my girl"

#dr spencer reid #derek morgan fluff #bau #derek morgan x reader #derek morgan #Morgan #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fluff #Marnikula #Not my best work #But hey #What can you do? #Also why do commas end the hashtag? I want punctuation gosh dang it

[x-liv25-jamieswife]

Grayson enemies to lovers hc?

grayson enemies to lover head canons

sure! i don't think this will be very long bc i don't really have any ideas and i'm not good with oc's/reader hcs. you also didn't specify if you want the other character to be a man or woman so i'll just refer to the character as 'them'. this is really bad and cliche. im sorry T-T.

i just know he'd be like cardan in the cruel prince (if you know what that is) when he kept writing jude's name on this piece of paper (basically, he'd hate them but wouldn't be able to stop thinking about them).

he'd do the biggest background check on them. he'd hire 10 private investigators to make sure they're not going to kill his family.

he'd call them something like sweetheart (or anything else) in a condescending way if you get what i mean

the other character would call him smth like 'love' to annoy him or smth meaner like 'asshole'

the other character would outsmart him all of the time, but grayson would be too prideful to admit it so he'd just ignore them or stare at them weirdly.

i imagine the love interest being quite funny and being the type of person to crack jokes. they make grayson smile but he always hides it. he never admits to it when someone brings it up.

they would be the only person capable of getting a rise out of grayson. he never swears unless they provoke him.

i don't think grayson is the type of person to not apologize when he does smth wrong. although he hates them, if he says/does smth really shitty and uncalled for, he would apologize

i can see the 'who did this to you' trope happening, but grayson is the one to get hurt (somehow got in a fight or was ambushed by some people who wanted to kill him), not the other character

grayson would consider himself in debt after the other character helped him with his wound. he'd end up doing some digging and finding out that the other character wishes to travel to europe cause they never got the chance to. he'd buy them a plane ticket and book them a room at a super expensive hotel to some place.

nothing extravagant ends up happening before they confess that they love each other. it's more of a slow build up. they'll be sitting next to each other at night (why, its up to you to imagine that), and one character (im thinking the love interest is saying this, but it could also the grayson) will go 'i think i might be falling in love with you' really quietly.

the other person ends up ignoring them for days bc they love the other person too but they're scared of what might happen if they give in. eventually, though, they talk it out and get together.

even when they become lovers, they still call each other sweetheart and asshole sometimes bc it reminds them of how petty they used to be when they were younger.

late at night, one day, they'll be lying in bed and they'll start talking about what made them fall in love with the other person (a lot of tears were shed).

the love interest would constantly tease grayson about how petty, prideful, and untrustworthy he was. they'll be at an event talking to strangers when the love interest goes 'you remember when you hired 10 private investigator to do a background check on me?' and the people they're talking to just stare in shock and are slightly frightened.

this is probably the shittiest thing i've ever written but oh well T-T. i didn't want to not do it so here we are. im posting an averyjameson hcs post soon to make up for this shit.

#the inheritance games #jameson hawthorne #grayson hawthorne #avery grambs

[10underoot2]

Character Study - The chilling warmth of Haein

Haein is a really misunderstood character. She has dark humour. She cares immensely but doesn't show it very openly. She hides her feelings cause she doesn't like to be vulnerable. She's very quick to say things that protect her emotions and she bites with her words just to protect herself. But all of this assertive feistiness comes at a cost. People tend to misunderstand and write Hong Haein off as mean, rude, cold and difficult to live/work with.

Her personality and tendency to appear uncaring has a lot to do with the lack of warmth she received by her family especially her mother. When she meets Hyunwoo she's no different, she puts on no pretences. Over time she warms up to him and shows him her softer more vulnerable side - all of which I'm sure aided in him falling for her deeply. But then that damned chasm occurs, and Hyunwoo much like the rest of the world forgets Haein's soft heart and soul that live underneath the iron clad armour she wears. It hurts me when I think about the pain she experienced realising she's misunderstood even from the man who once showered her with unyielding love and warmth.

Some incidents of Hyunwoo misunderstanding her are so interesting:

- The scene where Haein requests/orders Hyunwoo to accompany her to the hospital.

I love that it was shot from both perspectives. In her mind she sounds extremely soft and worried. It was a request meant to be delivered that way. I'm sure Haein couldn't register what her tone was because her intention were so soft. Why would he reject my request, He's free I'm just asking him to accompany me? But Hyunwoo had just heard about the will. That paired up with the continuous blows he's received the past two years were too much for him to take a moment and understand that this is how she's always spoken.

-The rain scene after their Yongduri night stay (I hold the belief that Haein did indeed often wait up for him).

Haein says: 'I really wasn't waiting for you.' to which Hyunwoo replies 'I know better than anyone, you're not the kind of person who would wait up for me.' In the scene you can see Haein slightly taken aback and offended by that. Because she is the kind of person who waits up for him. Her offence seems so justified. Because why can't Hyunwoo of all people see the real her. When did he forget to understand her? It must be so hurtful for her to think Hyunwoo's forgotten how warm she was with him. I imagine she used to wait up for him before the miscarriage but here she's listening to her husband say she's not that kind of person. (That little scene where Haein sits on the sofa waiting but Hyunwoo chose not to ask her if she was okay is my evidence! There was a post on this as well a while ago!)

It's also evident in her desire to run a hand over his shoulder to remove the dampness there. Her screaming at him to hold the umbrella properly. But he's so oblivious and deaf to her love that it hurts to witness.

- The bar after their day at the Lavender field in Germany at their honeymoon

Haein smiles and says, she wasn't angry after he told her that he had noticed no one else and that his eyes were only on her. But Hyunwoo remembers her being angry for another two hours. This scene was such a small example of it. What if Haein's anger did immediately dissipate but Hyunwoo just interpreted it as her still being angry. I can't offer any evidence as we don't see this scene but their different accounts make me think what if she was just feeling down but he assumed it was a continuation of her anger.

There are so many other examples sprinkled throughout the show as well. I started off really disliking her character but I've grown to really appreciate it. Because once you see how warm Hong Haein is in love, you'll see just how fierce, loyal and undying her conviction and mind is. She'll show and tell you in the most beautiful ways just how much she cares without ever telling you she loves you. She's not cold, she's just misunderstood.

Unfortunately though, life isn't a drama. So when people like this do exist, they tend to be written off as cold, harsh, unlovable. Humans have the potential to be infinitely complex creatures which is why it's been so interesting to see Haein's multi faceated character these past 8 weeks.

Just an additional thought: I also love the difference between Haein and Hyunwoo's business ideologies. Haein is sharp, to the point, efficiency, money and loyalty oriented. While Hyunwoo is soft, caring, warm and people oriented.

We see Hyunwoo's ideology against his father in law. When the FIL wanted to stab his long serving employee it was unfathomable for Hyunwoo. Hyunwoo's ties with the past employees of Queens got him so much information and support. His logical request to the manager of maintenance to make it snow comes after a long, good relationship - it's pretty evident in that scene. I loved how the show displayed Hyunwoo's ability to make deep and good relationships and how it ended up helping them to get Queens back. It's a hugeee contrast to how things run in the Hong Family. It was very fresh to see him show from his actions 'You can be nice and still get the job done'.

But even Hae-in's contacts, though acquired differently, are just as instrumental. The employee she took a stand for, the juice guy and Secretary Na. None of them would call her warm or soft but they would sing her praises if you ever ask them. It's such an interesting parallel between their characters. It also goes to show Haein is a good person, she just tends to show it very selectively and rarely. I do think the 1 Trillion club made her think of only money and efficiency for a while, but I still do believe she had been doing good away from public eyes, changing people's lives - it's just that no one was there to witness or publicize them.

#i relate with Haein in some ways #she's a very interesting character #the show gives such an interesting contract between both of them #queen of tears #baek hyun woo #hong hae in #kdrama #kim soo hyun #kim ji won #baek hyunwoo #hong haein #baekhong #character study

[silassinclair]

hiiii💙💙💙

i just have a request about Maddox but i want to start with saying english is not my first language and secondly i LOVE your writings, they are sooo good like i just read them again and again and again......

so about my request, its like a story but i just hope you will understand what im trying say

So darling and him while running away from the law Maddox face some other outlaws or having a duel he gets shot, some bad wounds or whatever and darling has no choice but runaway. Before running away darling says that she loves him and will wait for him, something like that.

After two years darling and Maddox meet again (can be when he is leaving a saloon or when he is stealong from the people on the road who is just moving from town to another town) Darling doing really great, she has a small but cute house, she has a great job paying her greatly BUT darling carrying a child

BIG SUPRISE its his child

Yes!

When darling was runing away she was pregnant but didnt tell him cuz she was afraid of his reaction

Anyway him and darling talk about what happened after she runaway, how she manages to live, about the child

so the thing is how he will react about all of this, i mean he has a child and a cute house he can live with darling but he has to run from the laws. Would he somehow live with darling or will he take darling and his child with him and keep runing

I know its long but i tried so hard to make it short and i hope you undertand it AND if you want you can ignore it

💙🤍 I LOVE YOU 💙🤍

UWWAAHH THIS IS SO CUTE <3 I’m about to cook so hard with this one ya’ll aren’t ready 🥶

Masterlist Here!!

Yandere Wild West Outlaw x Long Lost Lover Reader

CW// Pregnancy, Gun Violence, Blood, Suicide Mention, Maddox kills pedophiles, Pedophilic comments

“Shhh! Just stop! Stop talking!” Y/n wept as her s/c hand put pressure over Maddox’s oozing bullet wound. Her skin was stained with his crimson blood. The whole world was collapsing down on her. Maddox, her husband, was dying. He was losing so much blood and those damn bounty hunters were getting closer.

Coming to this town was a mistake. It was a fucking trap and they walked right into it. It was a false rumor spread to lure Maddox to the bank. It was supposed to be unguarded; and instead of cash and gold in the vault there was a lethal group of bounty hunters unloading their bullets in a barrage right at Maddox.

The masked outlaw coughed, hacking up some blood. Y/n and Maddox were lucky to get away. Using all her strength she pulled his body into a neighboring saloon and hid with him behind the bar. The outlaw's tearing brown eyes looked into Y/n’s with a mixture of emotion. Adoration and despair. Because he knew this will be the last time will ever see her again.

“Sweetheart, princess please look at me..” He utters. Y/n can barely hear him over the gunshots and screams from around. But her ears are honed to only listen to his voice at the moment. He is all she sees and hears.

“Untie my bandana… Use it to pack the wound.” The paling man says.

Her eyes widen at his request. Her and Maddox have been in so many life or death situations. All of them they have escaped narrowly. Maddox has had mortal wounds, he’s bled countless times over the years. But never, never has he taken that bandana off. Even when they kissed he would tell her to shut her eyes and she would obey, respecting his privacy. When they made love the lights would be off or she would be blindfolded. His face was a mystery that she always wanted to solve.

She imagined the say he showed her his face they would be watching a sunset. Or maybe laying underneath the star in a romantic setting. But now… It’s different. She doesn't want to see him. Not now, not like this. He was dying and this was a desperate attempt to extend his life. This was the end.

“Maddox…” Y/n sniffles. Her vision blurs as tears cascade down her cheeks. She knows this is the end for them. She can feel it.

The woman’s hands go behind his head as she shakily unties the burgundy bandana. And when she takes it off what she sees has her crying even harder.

He’s gorgeous. This is the face of her husband.

“Why Maddox? Why does the first time I have to see you also have to be the last?” Her voice cracks as she stuffs the wound with the bandana.

He smiles and for the first time she can see it. His cracked lips, stubble of facial hair, his crooked nose from being broken so many times, and the scar above his top lip.

“I love ya’ Y/n.” Is all he says in reply. His hand comes up to cradle her cheek. “I need you to do one last thing for me..” He takes her hands in his one hand as the other holds the cloth to his wound.

“Anything… I’ll do anything for you.”

“Run far away baby… Run away from here and don’t look back. Don’t come back for me.” Maddox peeks over top the bar counter they’re and sees the bounty hunters about to enter the saloon they’re hiding in.

Y/n bites her lip as she shakes her head back and forth. “I’m not leaving you! I can’t! You can’t die, I need you! You’re..”

Y/n freezes. She wants to say it but she can’t. Not now, not when he’s going to die.

“You’re going to be a Father.”

“Y/n.” Maddox smiles. “Jasper should be outside. Get on him and get outta this town.” He brings his lips to her hand, kissing her blood stained skin.

The sobbing woman can’t bring herself to move away from him. If she leaves she will never see him again. But she has to leave, she has to survive and save their baby. It’s what he would want.

“I love you.” Y/n pulls him into a passionate kiss. One which he returns as he tries not to wince in pain.

Maddox is the first to pull away for the first time. And it only breaks her heart even more.

“Now go princess… Go live ya’ life to the fullest. And I’m… I’m sorry for killin’ your old man back then…”

Y/n stands up silently and nods. So after a full year he finally apologizes. Honestly, Y/n forgave him long ago. Was it Stockholm syndrome? Was it love? It didn't matter, her love for Maddox was true. But now he was dying... If she turns around and faces him now she’ll never want to leave.

Without facing him she lets her tears fall and hands form fists, “Goodbye Maddox. And I forgave you long ago. Back when I fell in love with you for the first time.��

She runs to the back of the saloon and leaves out the back entrance. Once the woman is outside she hears shouts from inside, along with gunfire.

“NOOO!” She screams and clenches her hair in her fists. Her vocal cords strain from her guttural scream. The pain of losing Maddox feels unbearable. She can’t feel her legs, so she drops to the dirt ground. All she can do is cry and curl up alone. The trotting sound of a horse is heard from above. Looking up she sees Jasper, Maddox’s loyal horse and best friend.

“Jasper…” She weeps. The horse looks down at his owners lover with sympathy behind his dark eyes. The animal can tell she’s in pain. He neighs and uses his nose to nudge her.

“L-Let’s go bud.” Y/n says and stands up from the ground. She gets on Jasper’s saddle and rides out of town, leaving behind the painful memories of losing Maddox. The ring on her finger has never felt so heavy.

"I help! Rosie help Mommy!" A small two year old girl says as her chubby little hands reach out towards Y/n who is carrying a pail of milk.

Y/n Graves; widow and single Mother, smiles down at her daughter. When she lost the love of her life she gave birth to a new meaning to go on. When Maddox died Y/n felt alone. She contemplated ending the pain permanently but she knew she could never do that to him and their baby. So she lived, and thank the lord she did.

The past two years were hard. Being pregnant, working a job, finding a place to live, and raising a newborn all by herself. Life was hard but that's just how it is. Being a Mother is a sacrifice that Y/n took the day she decided to keep on living after Maddox's death.

Now she has a beautiful baby girl. And her resemblance to him brought tears to the Mother's eyes.

She has his dark brown hair that almost looks black and his brown eyes that Y/n would find herself lost in. At the young age of two and a half Rosie even knew how to speak and understand English. She has her Mother's smarts and her Daddy's looks.

Rosie was a gift from Maddox, a parting gift so she wouldn't have to be alone anymore. Just thinking about how she almost killed herself and Rosie destroyed Y/n. The thoughts she had during those dark times were regrettable. She hates herself for possibly thinking such things.

"Mommy? Why sad?"

Y/n blinks a few times and doesn't even realize she was crying. Rosie tugs on her Mother's dress, big brown doe eyes creased with worry. Giggling, she wipes her tears and puts the heavy pail down. She reaches for her daughter and picks her up and holds her instead.

"Because you look just like your Daddy princess. You remind me of him and I miss him a lot." Y/n kisses Rosie's cheeks, making the little girl squeal and kick her little legs.

"Now let's finish up our chores yeah? We need to get this milk to a cool place." Y/n reaches down and grabs the pail to take it to the cellar.

"I carry it Mommy!" Rosie pouts and reaches her arms towards the pail in Y/n's hand. But the woman only laughs softly at her daughter's antics.

"It's too heavy for you baby. Besides, princesses don't do chores like this yet. Rosie's only job for now is too behave and listen to Mommy."

The little girl pauses and leans her head on her Mother's shoulder. "Okay.." She mumbles.

Sensing her daughter's sadness Y/n decides to compromise. "How about we go into town and get ice cream?"

In an instant the little girl perks up. "Really?!" She says in her baby accent; unable to pronounce the 'R' well and instead it coming out more as a 'W'.

"Yes princess. You've been good all this week so you deserve a treat."

Y/n finishes her work in the cellar with the help of her daughter. Who really was just following her around and pointing at stuff, asking what each thing was. But now that everything was done Y/n rode into town on Jasper and her daughter on her lap.

It wasn't often that the single Mother came into town. Every time she was there she could feel the stares on her and her daughter when she did bring her. And she knew why. She has a daughter yet no husband. Y/n knows what the townspeople say behind her back. Calling her a whore, trollop, and an ex prostitute. But nobody knew jack shit about her. They were all making assumptions. They didn't know her life and the pain she's been through.

Not only that but being in town just felt unsafe. The hungry stares of the men made her feel nauseous, which was why she always carried a double barrel shot gun on her back. It was her own way of silently saying "Don't fuck with me and my daughter."

Y/n tugs on the reins a little and Jasper stops in front of the ice cream parlor. She gets off of Jasper and little Rosie clings to her Mother's back as she fastens the reins to the wooden pole.

"We won't be long bud. Come on princess, let's go."

Y/n pets Jasper on the head before holding her daughters hand and taking her into the parlor. Once inside the conversation around them immediately dies down as all the patron's eyes are on Y/n and her daughter; who goes to hide behind her Mother's leg.

"Why staring Mommy?" The little girl asks. Y/n pats her hair and answers back with a reassuring smile.

"They just think your dress is pretty and can't help but look at it."

Rosie grins and giggles, her cheeks pinkening with blush.

"Now let's go get ice cream yeah? What flavor do you want?"

"Strawberry!"

Since we're in town I may as well grab a few things so I won't have to come back. After finishing our ice cream I take Rosie with me to the hardware store across the street. While in there I grab a few things from the shelves. Life shot gun shells, a new steel file, and soap.

I go up to the clerk and put my things on the counter. The old man looks at me with his usual unimpressed look, just like how any other person in this miserable town looks at me.

"Will this be all?" He asks. I nod silently and hand him the appropriate amount of cash. After bagging my things he hands me my change and I grab the paper bag.

"Come on Rosie, let's go." I say and look down by my side at Rosie. But instead of my daughter I see the hardwood floor. My heart drops to my feet.

"Rosie?" I say again and perk up, looking around the store and down the aisles. Briskly walking to the store clerk I place my things back on the counter.

"Can you watch my bag? I need to find my daughter."

The old man nods with a grunt and opens up a newspaper. I ignore his careless attitude and I practically search the whole store for Rosie. Where the hell did she go? She was right next to me! I took my eyes off her for one second and this is what happens to me? I'm a horrible Mother.

Running outside the store I approach the first person I see. A blonde woman with a green dress and matching lace parasol.

"Excuse me? Have you seen my daughter? She's about this tall and has dark brown hair. She's also wearing a white dress." My words pour out of my mouth so fast that even I can barely understand what I'm saying. But the woman only shrugs.

"I do not know. Maybe you should keep a better eye on your child and you never would have lost her."

I glare at the prissy bitch and shoulder check her as I strut past her to ask the next person if they have seen Rosie.

"I can already see the potential in her Davis. Look at those beady little eyes. She'll be beggin' to suck cock in no time."

Rosie is shaking in fear, the poor girl has no idea what's going on. One minute she was in the hardware store looking at shiny things on the shelf, the next a hand was clamped over her mouth and she was being dragged outside the back entrance. She tried to scream but the hand over her mouth was too big. She tried to fight but her body was too small and weak.

There are three men standing above her. What they are talking about? She doesn't know. But her Mother taught her that strangers were dangerous. So their intentions were bad; these men were bad news. They had her tied up and gagged, her shivering body laid curled up on the ground as she silently sniffled.

"We'll take her to Alabama. She'll go for a hefty price there. I know a guy who likes em' younger." One of the men says. The same man hacks up mucus and spits in out on the ground right next to Rosie. Making the girl whine and cry even more.

"Quit your fuckin' cryin' or I oughta' give ya' somethin' to cry bout'" The scrawniest man of the group says. But his loud voice only makes the two year old cry more.

"Fucking hell, people will hear if she keeps this shit up. Someone hit her in the back of the head an' knock her lights out."

"She looks no older than two Marty. That'll kill her you dumb oaf!"

"Then wha do we do?"

The three men bicker back and forth. Arguing about how to silence the little girl. But as the three criminals argue they don't hear the approach of footsteps. It isn't until the girl stops crying that they turn around. A man with his faced covered by a bandana has Rosie in his arms. His brown cowboy hat is tilted low, casting a dark shadow over his eyes.

"Who the fuck are you?! Put her down!" The biggest man of the trio says. He reaches for his gun but the mysterious man tuts and wags his gloved index finger back and forth at the criminal.

"I wouldn't do that if I were ya' big guy." The man holding Rosie says in his smooth, accented southern drawl. The little girl is scared stiff as she clings to the man holding her. She doesn't know what it is about this stranger but he makes her feel safe unlike the three men who made her cry.

"Don't tell us what to do. There's three of us and one of you, we oughta fill you full of lead and piss on your corpse for thinkin' you can FUCK with us!" The scrawny man draws his gun and aims it right at the masked man's head.

Rosie cries and hides her face in the stranger's neck. He rubs her back and reassures her with a gentle coo.

"You'll be okay, just trust me alright? I'll get ya back to ya Momma and Poppa."

Rosie doesn't understand what he said, but she does understand that this stranger is protecting her.

"Keep your eyes closed honey, can you do that for me?"

Rosie shuts her eyes and holds onto him tighter. Beneath his dirty red bandana the man smiles. Then he looks back at the three scum bags in front of him. He heard everything they said about the girl. All of the disgusting things about how she had "potential" and wanting to sell her.

Men like them didn't deserve to live.

"Hand over the brat you fuck-"

The masked man draws his silver revolver in the blink of an eye and cocks back the hammer. He shoots the scrawny man right between the eyes. Rosie cries out at the loud burst of gunfire but he shushes her gently as he cocks back the hammer another two times and shoots the other two men dead before they can even draw their guns or speak. The three bodies lay stark still on the ground. The life from their eyes is gone as blood pools from each of their heads.

"Burn in hell ya' nasty bastards." The mystery man walks away from the scene to go somewhere safer, the little girl still in his arms. She has her hands over her ears because of how loud the three gunshots were. But with a pat on her head from the man she lowers her hands and looks up at him.

"It's over honey. Those bad men won't touch ya' ever again." He says and sits against a tree a little bit outside of town. The little girl sits crisscross applesauce on his lap. Her chubby little hands rest on her thighs as she stares at him.

The man reaches behind her head and unties the rag around her face. Those men treated her like livestock. If not worse. Abducting a little girl and tying her up like cattle? How disgusting. Men like that didn't deserve to see the light of day.

"What's your name little girl?" He asks her. Rosie sniffles and rubs her puffy eyes.

"R-Rosie.." She stutters, still shocked from the whole ordeal.

"Hey now, no need to be scared anymore okay? I won't harm a hair on your head. And your name is really pretty. Matches ya' rosy lil cheeks." He pinches her plush cheek, making the girl smile.

"Name?" Rosie says and pokes the man's chest with a little finger.

"Maddox. Maddox Graves."

Rosie only nods. Maddox can still tell she's scared. So he asks her some questions to get her mind off things.

"How old are you?"

"Two and half."

"You got a family?"

"I have Mommy!"

"Got a Daddy?"

"Mommy said Daddy in heaven."

Maddox sighs when the girl says she doesn't have a Father. Growing up Maddox didn't have a Father figure either. He only had his Mother who worked tooth and nail to provide for him when he was younger. It was a shame she died of tuberculosis. He was only 16 when she passed. And after her death he was born a new man. When his Mother died so did Manuel Gonsalez. And he was reborn Maddox Graves, the west's most feared gunslinger and outlaw.

"My Daddy's in heaven too Rosie. But my Daddy was a bad man, he had it comin' to him."

Rosie looks at Maddox with a sympathetic expression. Though she couldn't see his face she could see his eyes under the shadow of his hat. He seemed... hurt.

"Married?" Rosie asks him. She sees his eyes crease. He's smiling.

"Yeah, to the most beautiful woman in the world."

"Where she?"

"I don't know honey. I'm looking for her. I hope I find her.."

Maddox stiffles a gasp when the little girl suddenly hugs him. Her little arms go around his neck. It's been years since he was last shown any affection. the last person to give him a hug was Y/n. This little girl just had no idea how much her warm embrace meant to the man. He hugs her back and shuts his eyes, letting his years long guard down. Maddox parts from the hug and pats Rosie's head.

Maddox goes to ask the girl another question but the feeling of a cold hard object on the back of his head makes him pause. The outlaw doesn't flinch at the familiar feeling of a barrel of a gun being pressed against his head.

"You have three seconds to get your filthy hands off my little girl." Y/n growls out, her finger on the trigger of her double barrel shotgun. But Maddox feels his heart skip a beat when he hears the little girl's Mother's voice. How badly he wants to turn around and confirm his suspicion. But the slightest movement on his behalf may result in his brains being splattered onto the grass.

"Mommy!" Rosie squeals and jumps off Maddox's lap, making him wheeze and cradle his gut.

Rosie runs to Y/n and hugs her leg. Tears form in the eyes of the distressed Mother. She drops her gun and falls to her knees to embrace her daughter in return, completely forgetting about the man.

"Oh princess you had me worried sick! What happened?! Who is this man? Did he hurt you?"

Rosie shakes her head back in forth and parts from the hug. "He saved me Mommy! From bad men!"

Y/n feels her heart squeeze in pain. She couldn't even protect her own daughter, let alone keep an eye on her. Instead a stranger had to save her. Speaking of the stranger, Y/n looks up and sees the man standing above her and her daughter. They make eye contact and the man's brown eyes widen as Y/n's lips part. Something about him is familiar.

"Thank you for-"

"Princess?" He says in utter disbelief.

Y/n feels her words get caught in her throat at the oh so familiar pet name. Only one man has ever called her that.

"Maddox?"

The outlaw removes his bandana. A scar, stubble, and crooked nose. The same face Y/n saw before she ran out of that saloon years ago. He drops to his knees and pulls his wife into a tight embrace. His long search for his wife has finally come to an end.

"My wife, my beautiful beautiful wife. Mmm I was searching every end of the country for you. I thought you were gone forever." Maddox buries his face into her neck and inhales her familiar lavender scent. Even her skin has the same softness it had years ago.

Y/n though, is silent. She doesn't return the embrace her long lost husband gives her. Her mind and heart are racing. It's like she's witnessing a paranormal encounter with a ghost. If this is a trick then it is a cruel one. That wound should have killed him. But no, he survived and came back to her. After about three years he returns looking more alive than ever.

"I thought you died..." Y/n utters softly. Her eyes are wide with shock as tears form from her tear ducts. Hesitantly, she hugs him back. Arms moving slowly up his back she rests her hands on the blades of his shoulders and sinks her body into his. The two are like snakes, their bodies constricting and melting into each others warmth.

"I got you sweetheart, I got you. Just let it out princess. Everything's gonna be okay." Maddox soothingly coos and rubs her back as her tears finally fall. A shrill cry leaves the depths of Y/n's soul. Her hands grip the fabric of his jacket. She's afraid if she let's go he'll die again.

But no. He never died. He survived, and he's here in her arms. All her sacrifices have led her to this moment. In the end, living was worth it.

"Mommy?"

Y/n blinks the tears from her eyes and looks to her daughter who stands there with the hem of her dress in her tiny fists. The little girl looks like she wants to cry too.

"Why crying?" She asks in a wobblily tone. Y/n smiles and pulls her daughter in with her and Maddox's embrace.

"Mommy's just happy that Daddy came back from heaven."

Rosie's brown eyes light up with wonder. The man who saved her is her Father? She opens her arms as wide as she can and hugs Maddox with all her two year old might. However Maddox is frozen.

"She's... she's mine?" He whispers.

Y/n nods. "Mhm... I had her eight months after I ran out of that saloon. She's about to turn three."

Maddox's jaw is on the floor. Not only has he found his wife but he has a little girl too? His heart hurts at the thought of Y/n going through the pain of pregnancy and childbirth all alone. The outlaw looks down at the little girl. And he looks to Y/n for silent permission and she nods with a light chuckle.

"She's your daughter, you can hug her silly."

And with that the Father hugs his little girl close to his chest. He doesn't even know that he's crying right now. And he doesn't care, all he cares about are his two girls right in front of him. Nothing matters anymore except for this. He isn't going to run anymore, he's tired of running. Running is what made him lose everything in the first place. Running is how he lost Y/n. And he never wants to lose his wife again. Especially not when he has a daughter too.

It's time to settle down and raise his family. Maddox never considered having a family before, let alone no longer being an active criminal. But for Y/n? He'd walk on glass through the depths of hell.

"I'm never leaving you alone ever again, you hear me?" He says in a firm tone to Y/n, his eyes piercing into her own. "We're gonna be a family. No more running baby, I promise."

He pulls his wife in by the back of her neck and kisses her passionately. This moment was one he would photograph into his memory; his daughter in his arms and his lips on his wife's.

Being a Father was NOT something Maddox thought he would ever be. Hell, he’s Maddox fucking Graves, the most threatening man in the west. A guy like him raising a kid? Yeah it’s unimaginable.

He’ll never admit it but fatherhood scares him. And nothing scares him (well except for losing Y/n again.) because he’s just that damn tough! Or so he thought.

Rosie is a little bundle of joy. She’s smart, funny, and damn fast. Too fast.

How did Y/n raise her all on her own!? It’s like the girl wants to die or something because why is she always getting into shit!?

“Rose! Get ya’ little mitts out of the knife drawer!”

“Hey! Jesus Christ kid you’re gonna kill yourself if you get too close to the edge of that cliff!”

“You’re giving Daddy a heart attack sweet pea. I just got ya, ya can’t leave me yet.”

Y/n has been through so much so he never asks her for help when it comes to little Rosie. He can figure it all out on his own no problem. Maddox is a man so he’s the tough guy of the house. There isn’t anything Y/n can do that he can’t do.

However…

“Y/n! Rosie done gone and crapped herself!”

Loves kissing Rosie’s cheeks. They’re so chubby! Maddox is so happy that his little girl is healthy and happy.

Rosie may have his looks but she has her Mommy’s smile and attitude. It’s adorable.

Now back to Maddox and Y/n…

They’ve been separated for nearly three years. So their relationship dynamic has changed a little bit.

No more lone wolf outlaw Maddox. No, he’s putty in his wife’s hand. Meanwhile Y/n has grown more independent over the years having raised Rosie and gotten a job all by herself.

Maddox needs her by his side 24/7. He’ll get grumpy at the idea of her leaving. He doesn’t want a repeat of the past either. Just the thought of Y/n not being within his vicinity makes him worry.

“I gotta go into town and grab some food.”

“Huh? Why’s that? We gotta garden princess! Whatchu need food from there for when we have all that we need here?”

Don’t think for a second that Maddox isn’t a yandere anymore just because he’s a girl Dad now. Nope, nada, zilch.

He won’t hesitate to kill anyone who poses as a threat to his family.

Maddox was crazy for Y/n before but now he’s outright insane. He’s just really good at hiding it. And he’s also insanely over protective of Rosie.

“I was thinking, maybe we can send Rosie to the school house when she turns th-”

“Absolutely not.”

“Huh? Why not? She needs an education Maddox.”

“I will not have my daughter be around those nasty town boys. No way in fuckin’ hell is that happening. We’ll home school her.”

“Aww you’re so cute when you’re protective!”

In the end Maddox ended up enrolling Rosie into school later on because he had no idea how to explain Mathematics to her.

MAN this was a long one. Sorry for any grammar mistakes, my phone buggy as hell 😩

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #x reader #yandere imagines #yandere oc x reader #yandere oc #obsession #western #cowboy #maddox graves

[calaisreno]

An Arrangement

1200 words / Prompt: Hobby

Summary: Mycroft finds an ally

Mycroft Holmes regards the police officer who is sitting on the other side of the desk. Dark eyes, prematurely greying hair. Good at his job, recent promotion. A sense of humour (laugh lines), and an uncompromising commitment to honour. Maybe that’s not quite what it is. Honourable, yes, but it’s an inner sense of rightness, a gut feeling about people. Not impressed by power.

He wonders what DI Lestrade is thinking about the man he’s come to see without an appointment. 

“You’re here about my brother,” he says, sparing him the explanation. 

Lestrade nods. “I’ve seen him around, talked with him a few times. Last night—”

“Thank you.” Mycroft isn’t good at thanking people, not when thanks seem so inadequate. “I am truly grateful that you found him before… well, before more serious harm was done.”

Lestrade looks at him directly, openly, and Mycroft imagines this is the face he uses when interrogating a suspect. “You don’t know what to do with him.”

Surprised at the deduction, he responds. “I have taken some measures. It seems what I’ve attempted has not been successful, but I have the means to try other things.”

“What about your parents?”

“Our parents are not able to fully grasp the problem. Sherlock has always been… difficult. They have never understood him, and blame themselves for his problems. The matter elicits a great deal of emotion, and I have elected to be my brother’s keeper, so to speak, in order to spare them that ordeal.”

“Mr Holmes, I can’t claim to know Sherlock as well as you do, but I know a thing or two about addiction. The measures you’ve taken… well, nothing’s going to work until he’s ready to work on himself.”

Mycroft smiles grimly. “Mr Lestrade, I’m sure you’ve met many junkies in your line of work, but I’m equally sure you’ve never met anyone like Sherlock.”

“True enough. First time I met him he was high, stumbled on a crime scene I was investigating. It was like he had x-ray vision or something. Described exactly what had happened, pointed out where the murder weapon was, even suggested that the murderer was left-handed and had a limp. I didn’t dismiss him as a nut job because I could see it all— he was right.”

Mycroft’s smile is more genuine now. “My brother is several levels above any junkie you’ve met, Mr Lestrade. His problem is one he could solve, if he turned his mind to it. He resents my interference, however, and resists the measures I’ve taken. I will not give up on him, however long it takes. You need not feel responsible for Sherlock.” 

Lestrade stares down at his hands, which he holds clenched in his lap. When he speaks, his voice has lost something of the policeman. 

“Forgive me for speaking so freely. I know what it’s like to talk to someone on the phone, to say see you later, knowing that it might be the last thing you say to them. Guarding your words so you won’t sound bitter, won’t drive him away, when all you want to do is shake some sense into him, scream at him, lock him up until you can make him right.”

“Ah.” Mycroft leans back. “Your own brother.”

Lestrade smiles. “Five years younger than me, baby of the family. Our parents worked hard, and we did all right. All of us but Andy. I don’t know why. He was bright enough to do anything, be anything. We loved him, but something made him feel unloveable. It was never enough.”

“I’m sorry.” There really isn’t anything else to say when someone admits something so personal. This conversation is far more personal than he wants it to be. 

“I always take an interest in the addicts because of Andy. Maybe I can figure it out, save someone when I couldn’t do anything for him. Last time Sherlock and I spoke, I made him an offer, said I’d be willing to talk to him about homicide cases I’m working on, if he stays clean. He seemed to like that idea, said he might be a ‘consulting detective,’ the one I come to when I’m in over my head.”

Mycroft shakes his head slightly. “Sherlock is meant for something greater than police work, Mr Lestrade. I’m afraid you’ll find he quickly loses interest.”

“I don’t know, Mr Holmes. What police do matters. I’m not suggesting that Sherlock would make a good policeman. I saw a spark in him, though, one I hadn’t seen the other times we talked. Even if solving a crime is just an intellectual exercise to him, it might be the thing that keeps him from needing his next dose. That’s how you solve addiction, I think, one dose at a time.”

“That’s very simplistic.” Mycroft frowns now. “Believe me, I understand what rehab entails. And I know the success rates of most programmes.”

“True, there are a lot of failures. I don’t mean to suggest that I can cure him. You can’t cure an addict. But you can give them something else, something that absorbs them, even for a while. And maybe over time they’ll learn that there is something they want more than drugs.”

“You’re asking my permission,” Mycroft says. “I give it to you with conditions. First, you must not let him in simply to let him down. If you invite him to solve things, you will need to keep giving him things to solve. I’m not sure that’s feasible, but it is my condition. Do not treat him like a hobby.”

“I wouldn’t.” Lestrade looks at him solemnly. “I’m doing this because I think I can help him, and it would go against everything in me not to try.”

“I have another condition. You must check in with me and let me know if you see him slipping. Sherlock doesn’t see me often, doesn’t answer my calls. As I’ve said, he resents my efforts to help. You will recognise the signs. If he’s doing poorly, I want to know. I don’t care about confidences and trust between you and my brother. I must know if he is in danger.”

“I’m willing to do that.”

“Even if it involves lying to him?”

This gives the detective pause. “I want him to trust me, and lying to him would break that. I don’t want him to think I’m working for you. At the same time, I won’t pass along anything you say to me; our conversations will remain confidential.”

“In addition.” He sighs. “I am appalled that I must say this, but I would be remiss not to mention it. Do not use my brother. People have used him before, taken advantage of him. I’m not suggesting that you are the type of person who would do that. I don’t know you, Detective Inspector Lestrade. But if I ever learn that you have done such a thing—” He breaks off, giving him the humourless smile that explains more than words. “It would be very unfortunate.”

“Of course.” Lestrade looks sad. “I would never.”

“Very well, then.” 

He extends his hand. Lestrade takes it, gives it one shake, and nods. “You’ll be hearing from me.”

---

Shoutouts to everyone who is writing these! I'm so impressed 💕 Please keep writing your mini-epics, fluffy/angsty one-shots, hilarious AUs, limericks, and whatever else your brain comes up with. Please do tag people, and if you're posting on AO3 as well, consider adding to my MayPrompts2024 Collection. Much love to you all 💕

#mayprompts2024 #my fics #bbc sherlock #mycroft holmes

[atopvisenyashill]

Hey how come all the costumes in the final couple seasons of got were just black leather with pointy shoulders and chains

the real answer is that michele clapton is a hack and fraud who hates me, personally.

but there's probably a few reasons. i think irl, people associate black, leather, and wide shoulders with power, intimidation, more serious energy so to visually signal that sansa, cersei, dany, etc are now Power Players they have to put them in those costumes. michele clapton especially really loved using black leather and chains to signify Someone Is Being Serious - she has that interview where she talked specifically about Cersei and Dany wanting to be taken seriously by shying away from colors, using "chains of intent", and emulating the men who had the greatest affect on them ie Tywin and Viserys. You can really see when you look at Michele's interviews that she's bringing her own view of things into the costumes, which, yeah that's how it works (there's like a joke that Bear McCreary, for example, uses his partner as a singer in all of his soundtracks purely because he just wants to hear her sing lol) but I do think you really see the limits of her creativity there too. She has this idea that extravagance = unseriousness which is incredibly at odds with the way George has built up his world - I mean, Aegon IV was out here wearing like a 9 pound crown, and Daeron II wore it as well specifically to show how serious he is about being King. Roose wears all pink! The Tyrells are always awash in color, hell the Lannisters are always awash in color. The only person it makes sense to shy away from color is Dany - I imagine it was just easier for Viserys to find black leather to wear and buy that still showed his house colors than something red so that's why he leaned on it, and it would make sense that Dany is trying to emulate the only other Targaryen she knew by dressing the way he did when she feels like she's finally stepping into her role as The True Queen of Westeros. For Cersei, Sansa, even Arya, I think it's deeply silly that she took that similar approach.

Like, I do think some of her choices were okay - I love that she usually has Dany wearing trousers of some sort underneath her dresses because she felt like she always needed to prepare to run away, for example. I love Cersei's coronation dress, if not the ugly crown. I liked her dedication to making sure the Sons of the Harpy masks looked handmade and not factory produced. I love that Arya outfit in the last season, and I liked the attention to detail there when it comes to the coat looking slashed by Arya herself to make it fit her in the way she wants it to. I think where Michele consistently fails is a) the idea that the North is somehow less interested in fashion when the reality is that the North simply has different taste in fashion because they have a vastly different climate than most of the other kingdoms (similar to Dorne) and b) she tends to conflate feminimity and androgyny with weakness or silliness and masculinity with strength. It's not to say that you shouldn't think about the ways in which We As A Culture define power when designing a costume but just uncritically regurgitating "man = strong, woman = weak" sartorial work is lazy beyond belief. Jany Temime is leagues better, like even with some of my criticism of her work, I think she just has a much deeper understanding of color work, silhouette, and the way character informs style.

(people through a FIT in the tags of that post i linked tho even tho the op was Literally just making a gifset showing the costume change? no it's problematic to say "dany is trying to be taken seriously by emulating her brother" even though...that's literally exactly what she's doing. once again, targ nation are babies, sorry for my hater rant here but that post is one of the most annoying pile ons in this fandom to me).

#especially when the op was RIGHT dany emulating viserys WAS a bad sign LOL. wrong AND loud. #asks #anons

[isabelguerra]

like once i got older and realized movies are made by people with worlds inside of them and not by the gods of wealth and power. something broke a little. movies are so beautiful

#del toro wanting to make pacific rim the antithesis of a sexy car commercial and saying ‘god is in the details’ nearly had me crying in a #coffee shop earlier. what a person can do because they want to see a world exist is so beautiful #then i learned that del toros dad won 6m in a lotto that launched his film career and well that’s important too and has its own messages. #imagine what people can make with the means to do so. man.

[craycraybluejay]

this is exactly what im talking about btw, baeddels harassing trans men but trans men are expected not only to shut up and take it but not do anything in turn. just like a specific brand of abuse on the tip of my tongue

like waow i guess im OpPrEsSiNg you for telling you its bad to call a whole group of people slurs as insults and being a misgendering and transphobic piece of garbage.

why cant we make 'theymab' a thing? oh yeah because its acceptable to abuse a trans person under the pretense of their agab if you see them as a woman but not if you're seen as a man. huh. i wonder what that reminds me of.

#wtf was the goal of that hate comment. stop #anyway to make 1 thing clear if you want to harass people and act patriarchal i really do not care ab how Most Oppressed you are #if you want not to feel like a man maybe stop degrading women and even calling people who arent women that so you can degrade them #like imagine being racist and crying about racism?? no one cares bro you are the asshole #i should not have to tolerate harassment because you feel that you deserve and still chase after the same pariarchal space that cis men have #because you want all the power to abuse inherent to being a cis man at the same time as saying you dont want to be seen as one #you could say its properly transmisogynistic to not let you abuse people for percieved womanhood even a LITTLE #how dare they? this was your birthright #i dont believe in karma but i believe you deserve to get what you give on some level #baeddels are clinging so hard to the conventions of toxic masculinity #and u have to stay quiet about it and try to reword that glaring fact bc its Misgendering #i am not the one running around trying so hard to be transphobic and misogynistic to vulnerable ppl #also yall act like oppression is always gonna align with your identity. its not thats the point. #but just bc you start experiencing misogyny for the first time does not mean you need to level it at transmasculine people #go find a better outlet. go the fuck to therapy #we are not your punching bag

[derpinette]

too many males getting veneers when really they should be investing in hair transplants if anything

#you can clearly afford it & you are going to turkey for it anyway #& do NOT cheap out replace that whole scalp you never know how ruthless norwood is going to be on you else you get The Hair Band #just do it in one surgery #i advocate for teeth crookedness anyway i wish i could just yank out my braces to push my canines into yaeba i especially like #that thing people have where they teeth grow atop of others my cousin had that but the dentist just REMOVED them instead of realigning... #really makes me wish death on aesthetic dentistry STOP that madness. #i sincerely believe that teeth hold so much character & it genuinely pains me to see people get them replaced with chiclet piano keys #all straight & uniform uber white colored YUCK #honestly having thin hair as a male is a sign of genetic failure whereas misaligned teeth is not #at least you can fix that with braces that you will later take off ( when will it be my turn to... ) nothing added All You #it really sickens me to see just goes to show poor decision making skills. thin hair is infinitely more humiliating than “ugly” teeth #but there are situations where better teeth aremore of an improvement TBH if a man wants to self harm for looks go ahead IDC but ♯JustSayin #i wish you could have seen it but one time a classmate came to class to let our teacher know that he was leaving in the seventh grade #& she was like Erm why what excuse could you possibly have & he uncovered his mouth to reveal several of his teeth broken & missing #turns out he had them knocked out by an upperclassman who pushed him onto a pole while playing a game #i still laugh out loud whenever i remember it was so absurd literally the last thing i expected it was like a tom & jerry gag IRL #he was crazy rich so thankfully he got them all replaced like immediately but imagine being anyone in that situation. even the mom #i mean i felt bad for him that must have been so painful but i cannot help but burst into laughter whenever i remember

[tomboyyyaoi]

trigun twitter blows like actually fucking sucks ass like actually eats shit like good god what a cesspit. what a fucking travesty how those people live and consume media, twitter fandoms continue losing, seethe, rot, fester, youre all doomed

#sorry idk why i turned into an evil wizard at the end there #but fr trigun twitter fucking sucks its so bad good lord what a sad little life jane #those mfs will say 'i hate when ppl fetishise and feminise vash' to mean ppl draw him with a pussy and call him babygirl #and it makes them fucking seethe for some reason #like man if u want hypermasc vash with a big swangin cock u draw that u go right ahead #but ppl like the way he cries and whines and whimpers and theres fuckall u can do about that imagine getting upset over that #imagine spending ur precious free time ranting on twitter bc ppl ship fictional incest #imagine getting genuinelh passionately upset bc ppl 'dont get' media u like bc they fucking read it differently #imagine not having fun #jesus fuck its so miserable #these ppl are pathetic #jesus christmas man #what a life #god my braincells are burning #trigun twitter sucks so bad christ i hope u all get clowned on we are officially one of the worst fanbases just from how ppl act on there #actual brain damage #im shifting into hyper retard mode #god almighty #sad little people so much fucking discourse over virtually nothing #dont even get me started on the reprobates who talk about vamery like its some rancid problematic ship actually shut the fuck up kys #maim maim kill kill die die die die die #god #hate breeds hate ur all rancid #this is why im not on fandom twt it makes me so fucking angry #rancid site #rancid #putrid

[smol-tired-binch-blog]

hate how im now at a point where im legit like kicking my legs and grinning like an idiot over fictional characters SEND HELP

#take One Guess who im talking about. YES ITS KOI BOI #hes so prettyyyyy and cute and lovely and i love looking at him i wanna hear him speak and laugh and sing just AAAAAAAAAAAA #(turns to my own brain) BITCH WE ARE MEANT TO BE AROACE WHY ARE YOU IN LOVE WITH TWO FICTIONAL CRIMINALS WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING????? #my brain: (that fuckin anime girl gif from evangelion (i think??)) #like fuuuuuck man is it self shipping if u use a proxy? like. hes an oc but he's a stand in for me. he is me and i am him but we also arent #he is his own person and i am my own our lives are very very different but i use him to express love for Mad Dog and Koi Boy #cause they could actually love him if i were in their world i wouldnt stand a chance but my boy has one so he loves them for me #its far easier to imagine him kissing them than it is for me to imagine myself kissing them but that might be because im wired weird #idk it *feels* like it counts yknow. my dumbass out here gettin jealous when i see a Certain Ship cause like i disagree with it on #a Fundamental Level. and on TOP of that half the time the art is so CUTE and im like 'motherfucker that should be ME' or i guess my lad but #STILL am i making sense?? doesnt help that i worry im like. misreading what content i have but also fuck you i can do what i want and also #i get him more than yall kgyugkhjhk (jk jk. Unless) basically when i call them my boyfriends i fuckin mean it #look its Real Missing Nishiki Hours i love him i wanna kiss his perfect face someone shoulda shown him love i could save him and he could #make me worse <3 I Want Him #and do not get me wrong i may be focused on him but Majima is still my wifey too!!! hes mine you cant have her <3 #i just have koi boy brainrot i very much desire them Both (YES THAT MIGHT BE WHY I SHIP THEM TOO LOOK I ALSO THINK THEYD WORK WELL TOGETHER #OR AT LEAST HAVE A FUN DYNAMIC TO EXPLORE I SHOULD DATE THEM AND THEY SHOULD DATE EACH OTHER WE ALL HAVE 2 HANDS) #might delete this in the mornin who knows but im feelin silly i wanna talk about them i wanna talk about my boy but idk if ppl would really #GET IT yknow i can think of maybe Two People and that INCLUDES bestie but just aaaa point is i love my koi boy so much hes so lovely <3 <3