#is generally gonna be BS anyways | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

razypie · 8 months

Text

Colors of Different Hue (You) || Gun Park x Reader

cw: a bit graphic in one of the scenes, wc: ~5.2k summary: gun is a lovesick idiot but doesn't want to admit it third-person pov, fem nurse!reader, ooc gun (my delulu version actually), and reaally fast-paced a/n: heavily-inspired by 'Hotarubi no Mori e' story-telling, so there are lotsa flashbacks hehe

"Oooh, look who’s got a date today!" Goo giggled as he peeked back from the wooden porch facing his partner's backyard.

Gun almost had uncharacteristically gotten on his knees in front of the chairman to let him off on this specific day, and now this weapon freak's presence was about to wreck the day before it started.

"Not now, Goo. Why the hell are you even here?" Gun fixed his tie in front of his wide half-length mirror, scooped a generous amount of gel, and brushed his hair back neatly.

"Oh, come on, I was getting bored. Samuel wasn't picking up because of his Workers' Affiliate BS, and Logan has exams this week. For real? That guy should drop out already, it's no use."

"So you decided to stroll your way here to annoy me instead?"

"You got that right!" The blonde eyesore jumped up and hopped his way on square concrete blocks to one of the bamboo trees lined up along the fence.

"Whatever. You better leave the house before I do, or I'll stick that bamboo shoot you just pulled up your ass." Gun warned his house's intruder, who reached out to one of the young bamboo plants.

"Not everything is a katana, you anime samurai wannabe." He picked up his sunglasses and black coat and made his way to his Porsche parked in the space opposite the bamboo trees.

"Says the guy who bought a Japanese mansion in the middle of nowhere." Goo huffed a childish pout. "Jeez, I was gonna use these for cooking snacks, but you just had to give me a disgusting picture."

He gave the man in the car a side glance and sighed. "I was doing you a favor here, man."

The morning sun radiated a warm glow on the dark sheen of Gun's sunglasses as he swiftly drove through the outskirts of Seoul. The wide stretches of green pastures emerging from both sides of the road whistled a soft tune into his ears.

Unlike most people who want to live in extravagance with cameras shoved in their faces every single moment, there were times when Gun preferred to settle in a remote area, far from the reeks of city lights, where he could be alone with himself, his thoughts, and his hard-earned (i.e. bloodstained) money.

But of course, the nature of his work required Gun to be by his employer's side around the clock else his grand funeral wouldn't be much later.

So he made the best of these hand-picked moments when he could persuade his boss to grant him off-days.

Gun has the whole map of Seoul memorized from his monthly crusades and made that mental map involuntarily take the wheel and let his mind wander off for a while.

He pulled his car to a stop in front of a flower shop. As he got out, he noticed a gray umbrella hanging on a covered shed's railing.

'That bastard still owes me for that… and a shit-ton of money for losing in every bet.' But then again, he wouldn't have met Y/N if Goo didn't break his umbrella.

'Hah. No way I’m telling him.'

It was a stormy night with distant rumbles of thunder.

His eyes landed on a small figure of a lady in front of him and a bit to his right; the two were taking refuge under a mono-sloped roof of a bus stop.

Even with thick layers of bright-colored clothing enveloping her figure, Gun noticed her shivering with her arms crossed to her chest gripping her shoulders.

The man had nothing to do anyways beside impatiently waiting until the rain wanes, and everything else around him was too dull and gray to entertain him. So, his eyes remained on the peculiar lady, the only other color he could see; a color that penetrated even the darkest tints of his shades.

He examined her.

'The hell is up with this woman? It's not even that cold.'

Gun turned up an amused grin at the memory as he stopped over at a flower shop. He grabbed his coat and caught a whiff of lavender-scented detergent he recognized as Y/N's.

'Oh. It's her again.' Gun recognized the woman from the other day who had now crouched down to check his injuries. He tried telling her off but to no avail.

"I knew you were a gangster five meters away, dumbhead, but that doesn't mean these 'scratches' (as you called them) will heal themselves… I'm only here to do my job."

'Okay, lady. Be my pest.'

He yielded and rested his back against the brick wall at the end of an alleyway where this meddlesome woman found him.

A light trail of lavender caught his nose; 'That's odd…” his eyes lingered on the lady. “for someone with a sharp tongue and flashy style.'

Now that she's much closer with her hair tied up in a bun, Gun could examine her more closely. Unlike yesterday, she's in full white get-up now: a clean set of white scrubs matched with white shoes.

'A nurse, huh. Probably an intern because I'm looking at a fucking dwarf.'

…

"Shoot."

Apparently, patching Gun's 'scratches' made her miss the last bus.

"That's what you get for doing your job."

"Oh, shut up."

Droplets of pouring rain halted the bickering that was about the start.

…

Gun had to admit though, she did a stellar job mending his wounds.

Ego not permitting him to tell her his thanks, he nonchalantly dropped his thick coat over her head instead while noticing blotches of rain wet her uniform.

Recalling her trembling the other day, the self-proclaimed gentleman also offered to drive her home.

Gun's eyes lingered down his coat and figured he hadn't picked it from his wide selection of corporate attires to wear since Y/N returned it; he might've intentionally kept it there to let her fragrance rub off on his other clothes… or not, only he and God knew.

A bell chime signaled his entry to the shop, and a lady from the opposite end greeted him with a welcoming smile.

After paying for a bouquet of white chrysanthemums, Gun bowed and turned his heel to the wooden-framed glass door.

The cashier gave him a concerned look but settled with a short smile.

Gun decided to walk the rest of the way, paced long strides along the stone-paved sidewalk into the busier streets of Seoul.

Turning his head towards ordinary stalls he used to turn a blind eye to as flashes of Y/N’s twinkling eyes with her hand around the doorknob and an arm linked to his tattooed one surfaced.

A grin crept up to his cheeks.

Since their first encounter, Gun found himself driving past the hospital Y/N works at. Later on, it became a routine. Random nights when he stops by and waits for her at the bus stop in front to chat about each other's day or to give her a ride home, especially when it's raining.

But of course, he took account of his schedule. He's a busy man, and his spare time, scarce; all of which however, have been filled in by Y/N the more they hung out:

Mondays to Thursdays, he would take the longer route to HNH Building, to have a cup of morning coffee (or so he says) at a restaurant near the hospital. Y/N would walk in, couple of squints later, then wave at him.

"What a coincidence!" she exclaims. "Yeah." he replies dryly.

Fridays to Saturdays, Y/N's off-duty schedule. She would go to the public library to study for her weekly moving exams. It just so happened that Gun also reviewed for GED exams there (the real coincidence).

Surprisingly, Gun is good at memorization, so is Y/N at general trivia. It was effective mutualism.

Sundays were the wildcard. One is busy. Or both are busy. If neither, Gun would accompany Y/N to a random place she keeps going on and on about for the entire week or they would chill in his house (whether he wants it or not).

It's an actual miracle that Goo didn't catch them hanging out, really. Although, he had suspicions… getting a sweet trace of lavender in his partner's house when he barges in without notice (you don't just put "sweet" and "Gun" together). Or when Gun's mood swings become less and less frequent despite the blonde's incessant annoyance sprees.

Goo was itching to bully him for it, but he needed concrete evidence—the ones that would put the jackpot horrified look on the demon's stoic face.

Gun needs to be more cautious around his pest of a partner.

It won't be too long until Goo sees through his lies of checking into brothels on Sundays.

Ah, about that.

It's been ages since Gun set foot into one.

…

Huh.

Guess he found Y/N a more entertaining distraction from work than any bent back he broke.

They just… instantly clicked after their first encounter–like a string of Fate wrapped each of them in a disgustingly cute bow as a present for each other.

They were inseparable. One was the other's breathing space: from Y/N 's tiring hospital duties and from Gun's major crew business.

They were each other's pieces in the puzzle they didn't know were missing.

Friends... they would call each other. But were they really? Might've been even more if they knew what the force that attracted them to each other actually was.

(Ugh. Fate was having none of this folly.)

Gun stifled a laugh. A lot has happened in the short time he met her, yet there's still a lot to be unpacked for this lady.

"W-wait!" Y/N huffed, holding up a hand between her and Gun. "Not the one to use gender cards here but… go easy on me here, man. Clearly, you have the men's advantage in stamina." Y/N pouted at Gun with what seemed like an attempt to do a puppy face, but she only looked like a constipated shih tzu to him.

He raised an eyebrow but maintained his stance.

"Oh, cut the bullshit, woman. You run around the hospital 24/7. Sparring should just be a piece of cake to you."

"Still–"

"You think those harassing fuckers were the same brats you fought in middle school and go easy on you because you're a girl?"

His eyes scanned her from head to toe. He sneered.

"I bet bruises aren't the only thing they'll leave you had you let your guard down."

"Huh?"

"Nothing."

"Anyway, I don't know why you're suddenly so adamant, teaching me how to fight." Gun didn't answer, earning a glare from Y/N.

"Besides, I only wrestled those wimps back then to keep them from bullying other kids. That doesn't mean I'd actively engage in one now," She put her hands up in the air in surrender and crossed her legs to sit down, to which Gun loosened up.

"...unlike SOME people."

"You did last time at the park." He jeered.

Y/N rolled her eyes. "Well, duh. Those two creeps kept pestering me, asking for my number. I also texted you, but you left me on read. Did it look like I had a choice?" She eyed him daggers.

"Could've at least used your strength for something genuinely helpful, you sadist."

"Which I did, your punches were getting slow, and you couldn't defend yourself for two whole minutes when I got there, so I finished the job for you. Good work lasting for even a minute."

He was lying, of course.

As soon as he read her message, he sped to the location she sent. When he arrived, the fight had just broken out with Y/N caving in one of the creeps' faces with her clenched fist. He saw her give the other one a solid kick on the ribs and counter back with a knee to the face.

He could tell she had fighting experience, despite sluggish, with those limbs; and he just watched her fend for herself until she wore out…

He cringed.

Yeah… he is a sadist.

"You're right. Let me make it up to you by making you tea then." She used that as an excuse to end their training for the day as she stood up and went to Gun's kitchen.

The latter watched her back disappear in the hallway.

With how their conversation went, it seems Y/N isn't interested in becoming his successor at all. She already rejected him before he could even offer it.

"I guess beating people up for money isn't her 'cup of tea.' It's way easier than having a hospital suck your life out."

…

But not long after, when they were on their way to a cake shop Y/N wanted to check out, some weak-ass thief was also on the loose and unfortunately chose Y/N to be his target.

Yes, that's right. Unfortunate for the thief.

Long story short, Y/N's hospital will get another patient.

Gun looked at the disfigured face of the stupid fucker with beaming pride at what his student is capable of (Y/N dislikes the idea of Gun calling her his student, though).

He then turned to his masterpiece with a pleased grin and noticed her with arms across her chest while shaking.

"What are you doing?" No response; she was uttering something with her eyes closed.

"I am safe; I am strong."

…

She seemed shocked.

'Eh. It'll pass. I taught her enough to deal with punks like these.'

The sun's afternoon rays peeked from the thin linings of thick-smoked cumulonimbus clouds. It dulled the shadow of the man walking on copper-bricked pavement.

Gun heaved a deep sigh. A couple of months ago, he was laser-focused on managing their debt-collecting business, then working as Crystal's bodyguard and finding a successor.

That felt ages ago somehow. His recent calendars have been him dealing with Y/N's antics. Not that he was complaining, he found it amusing to know a woman he could see eye-to-eye on things. No strings attached.

There was something about how she looked at him; neither a hint of fear nor looming intimidation.

Just warmth.

Warmth that melts the iciest of his glares. A soft smile that ebbs his turbulent chaos. Words that tear down his barriers, strip him off his 'Shiro Oni' persona, leaving him with just plain Jonggun Park.

He's also seen patterns of her behavior: the way her eyebrows arches up when she looks at him, the glimmer in her eyes when talking about her pets at home, her nose scrunching up as she recalls medical acronyms, her fingers curling up as she tucks strands of her hair behind her ear, her pouty lips and rosy cheeks when he teases her (his favorite). He memorized them all; and still she continues to surprise him with more.

Stitch that with mood swings and annoying outbursts, and you have Y/N!

How can a woman be so complex yet so... normal?

'One moment she gets mad when I keep my clothes all over the place in my own house, but then when I visit the hospital, she's the one who was all over the place herself with stress and panic...'

"The hospital was packed when you came in; it was just bad timing. I'm perfectly calm most of the time." She huffed.

That didn't convince him one bit.

She continued to weave questions into his mind.

'What was this weird fixation on this lady? How very unlike me to have interest in anyone beyond their physical strength. When did I start to…'

She does have a slightly above-average physical strength; he wouldn't have batted an eyelash at her if he didn't see potential.

Was that the reason why he was so drawn to her, though? Did Gun ever really sit down and mull over his odd relationship with the quirky Y/N, who is living a life opposite to his?

…

Oh.

...

That IS the very reason he got attracted to her; the fact that she's composed of a lot of things.

Unlike him, who lived the script laid out for him, she wrote her own.

Unlike him, who has only ever seen the thick crimson stains on his shirt, the light gray smoke he exhales from his cancer stick, and the overall black-and-white world he's caged in, hers was made up of different shades of life, the different hues of people she met, and different flavors of memories she savored.

All of them painted a picture of a woman that spilled color onto anyone she touched--including him.

She showed him what lies beyond his dog-eat-dog world.

"Dude, tell me. You're actually blind, aren't you?"

'Ah, shit. Here we go again.'

"Your eyes were gouged out in a fight and you spent years training with your remaining senses, didn't you? Now, you're hunting to seek revenge on those who wronged you."

Y/N gasped at her eureka moment. "I cracked the code."

"Cool backstory you've built there, but no. How the fuck could see the road if--"

"Or maybe you are a famous celebrity! They always wear sunglasses to hide their identity."

"Ever heard of famous celebrities getting into gang fights?" Gun knows one, though. But Y/N doesn't.

"..."

"There's your answer."

"Ditch the sunglasses then, you hitman try-hard." She pouted in dismay and looked away with her crossed arms on her chest.

"It baffles me how you still wear them even in training. Even now, you look more like my bodyguard instead of a friend. What the hell?!"

"Then, deal with it."

"Gah! You insufferable prick!" Y/N buried her face in her arms on the table.

Gun stared at her small figure with the very eyes that tickled Y/N's curiosity.

He had long forgotten what his inborn eyes looked like… those wretched eyes.

He'd rather gouge his eyes himself had he failed to unlock his unconscious sense.

He hated those eyes.

He hated how they made him look vulnerable and inferior.

He hated how "soft" they were and made people deem him incapable at a young age. Gun eventually made them eat their own words.

But most of all, he hated how they began to resurface around Y/N and became more frequent the more they hung out… he didn't want her or anybody to see his image that's been long since buried.

So Gun dulled them out with tinted shades.

"Hey."

He called to break the awkward silence.

No response.

Gun leaned closer. At the same time, Y/N looked up.

He was caught off guard when she suddenly sandwiched his face between her palms.

"Hehe. Gotcha!" She snickered.

His sunglasses loosely fell down the bridge of his nose. Y/N caught a view of his ebony eyes for the first time, at which her eyes widened.

"Gun, your eyes..." Naked eyes meet each other for the first time. Locked as time stopped. Her sudden perplexion eventually subsided, turning soft as she rubbed his cheek.

"They are pretty."

He didn't know which pair of eyes she was looking at right now. But it didn't matter anymore.

The red string was dusted off to clarity.

He was taught to discard his humanity aside and embrace his pitch-black monstrosity all his life. Since then, that was all he saw--darkness. The void he had ever known engulfed all colors visible in the spectrum.

On the other hand, white emitted them, like how her ridiculously bright-colored clothing pierced his dark-tinted sunglasses. Her comforting rays of light were outstretched for him to latch on.

It was no wonder how he was captivated by her, ensnared in her mere presence.

He was a pathetic moth bewitched by the warmth of her lamp's flame. It was blinding. He knows she is a whole 'nother kind of destructive, and he shouldn't come close, yet her tiny blaze's euphonious crackle, egging on him to inch closer, lulled him into submission.

He was an Icarus flown to her scorching sun. He knew she would destroy him all along, and he let her.

Gun stopped in his tracks at the sight of Y/N 's family nameplate. He collected himself and took a deep breath.

"What a surprise, Jonggun! Are you paying Y/N a visit?" Her mother greeted him with a warm smile.

"It's been months, young man! We missed you!" Her father guffawed, lightly smacking Gun's back.

"Good afternoon, Mr. and Mrs. L/N." Gun bowed his head and offered them a box of cupcakes he remembered Y/N was gushing about. He appeared calm in front of her parents, but he couldn't meet their eyes–not like they'd notice anyway.

Gun snapped his eyes open and landed on Y/N below him; her eyes closed, and her hair sprawled messily around her. She looked ethereal with white draped over her peaceful form.

He got so used to seeing her face filled with intense expressions that her relaxed face seemed fresh as her other features popped out.

It's like falling in love with her all over again.

God, does she look beautiful right now.

She resembled an angel with wings spread on the cold, hard ground.

…

Ground?

…

Color drained from Gun's face as he got pulled back to reality at the sight of carmine ichor oozing from Y/N 's side, seeping through the stitches of her white dress.

It… it all happened in a blink.

She darted towards a lost kid who aimlessly crossed the highway, unknowingly about to get hit by a speeding car. She pushed him to safety and took the hit.

The lady beside Gun shrieked in panic and frantically fished out her phone to call an ambulance.

'She might not make it if we still wait for the damn thing.' He knelt down and checked for response and airway in her system.

She was unresponsive but breathing.

He knew this method. With how frequently he and Y/N were together, how she talked 80% of the time, more often than not, she had run him down the basics of first aid, even if they were out of the blue.

'Must've thought I didn't pay attention, huh? Too fucking bad, Y/N. I always listened to you.'

He carefully roamed his hands on various parts of her unconscious body to check for severe bleeding.

'Shit. Three of her ribs are broken. Her right arm is fractured, and she's rapidly losing blood.' His calloused hands cupped the side of her face where her silky strands loosely hung.

'Her temple is also bleeding, probably from the impact when she hit the ground.'

Blood. All too familiar. It never left Gun as soon as he got his first kill.

The sight of blood shouldn't faze him. But his hands were trembling the more he realized how grave her condition is.

It took everything for him to stop driving his fingers to her hair despite being spotted with dried blood. He withdrew his hands and brushed his stray locks back instead in an attempt to keep his composure.

He was planning on taking her to the hospital himself or treating her in his house (he already has enough nursing supplies for his personal use, but Y/N constantly nagged him to buy more for emergencies). But, in her current state, he couldn't carry her otherwise the issue with her ribs gets worse and affects her internal organs, if they weren't already.

"For emergencies, my ass. Can't use them right now, can I?"

Funny how Y/N remained her composure and even kept their banter going when she first treated Gun. Just goes to show that she IS calm at work.

It's kind of ironic now that they've switched places, though. Even if Y/N taught him all this medical stuff, Gun still couldn't do anything more helpful than wait anxiously for the fucking ambulance.

Gun pinched the bridge of his nose. These injuries wouldn't be a problem for Jinyoung Park. Gun could certainly vouch for that, as he and Goo were regulars in his lab when they were still on probation… when the man was still borderline mentally stable.

He would phone him immediately if he wanted to but decided against it because God knows what that maniac would do to her now at his current state, if he even agrees to tend to her injuries.

Gun withdrew his coat and covered Y/N 's upper body. He rested his left hand on her cold ones in hopes of delaying Death's touch on her.

Honestly, he was at a loss--which was a first; he didn't know what to do with it. But Gun knew he had to stay with Y/N until help arrived.

He curled his hand around Y/N's.

"She is safe. She is strong… She isn't alone."

Gun found himself uttering the same chant again as if in prayer.

He always viewed Y/N as a warrior shielding the weak, a saint devotees pray to for protection. She had always put others' well-being above hers--a trait befitting of a nurse.

But that overshadowed the image of blood and bones beneath her soft, paper-thin skin as it was under the guise of a rigid exterior.

Fucked up it may seem, but Gun knows he isn't at fault entirely for what happened: Y/N made her decision, was well aware of the consequences, and still chose to do it.

Even so, he could feel a stinging pang in his chest, telling him that he should've caught up to her had he ran and pushed Y/N and the stupid boy himself. But the four major crews were at peak then, so he ultimately chose to do nothing.

And it tore his heart--something he thought had been long abandoned.

The 'heart' was meant to be just an empty hole where every last bit of tenderness was carved out of his chest. The hollow pit that reminded him of his decision to walk the path of blood… was forcefully filled with infectious laughter, sweet melodies, and soft rhythmic heartbeats of life.

The words "Gun" and "sweet" didn't seem uncharacteristic when put together now, huh.

He gazed at what remained of her longingly, reminiscent of memories they'd shared, despite short.

"You painted my heart in different forms that I can hardly call it my own anymore."

Gun's grip on the bouquet tightened.

"We shouldn't even have met--we're worlds apart, for crying out loud. But Fate decided to fuck around people and chose us, I guess."

But at least he was able to see the world in color--for the first and last time.

He was never meant to have it, anyway.

…

...

"PFFT--"

Gun jolted on his seat as laughter echoed around the room.

Y/N wheezed. "I didn't know you could be so poetic, Gun Park!"

It took a moment for Gun to process his surroundings.

He is currently in Y/N's bedroom. A relatively small space compared to his bedroom, which is infinitely wider. Her room looks more lively and festive than his empty one, though.

Other than her working table, everything else was decorated with strings of polaroids, LED lights, and stuffed toys ranging from tiny crocheted keychains to life-size pillows randomly decorated the room.

Wow. There's a whole new world to be explored in here.

Gun waved his trailing thoughts away and finally faced Y/N, who sat on her bed. Her lively demeanor didn't cover up her poor condition though, which is painfully understandable.

He should've brought medical supplies that were piling up in his house. And cupcakes, really? He didn't go out for a picnic.

Well, it's nothing worse than her in a casket.

He cleared his throat.

"More importantly, how long since you left the hospital?"

"Two months."

"And you never even contacted me once?"

"Well, you've never visited me since… the accident. I thought you simply forgot about me, you being a busy person and all."

He TRIED to forget her, for Christ's sake.

After Kouji tracked the bastard's location with the car's plate number he sent, Gun didn't waste a second and pummeled the hit-and-runner to death.

Then… he carried on to another chapter of his life, as usual.

Gun wholeheartedly believed Y/N was just another fleeting name in his book, just torn scratched pages of requiems lacing love songs that weren't supposed to be written.

So, he let time help him forget.

Spoiler: he never did; he just couldn't. How could he when everywhere he looked, he saw her?

"I was… busy at work."

"See? Anyway, that's okay. Don't sweat it, man. My prank made up for it." She laughed it off.

Gun prepared himself for the worst when he entered Y/N 's house; he felt his stoic façade crack as a flash of disappointment in Y/N's face was conjured in his mind.

Her cheerful welcome (sneaky prank) washed all of his worries away.

In the end, it was better than what he anticipated.

"So, how are you feeling?"

She frowned, an eyebrow arched up in disapproval.

"The Gun I know doesn't give a shit about 'feelings'. Who are you and what did you do to him?"

He deadpanned. "Just… answer the question."

"To be honest, I feel like shit right now. Being bedridden for months? Getting injected with pain relievers, tons of prescriptions and rehab sessions, everyday? Now, I know how my patients felt…"

How talkative for someone feeling like shit. Even so, he let her talk–like how they usually did. It felt melancholic.

"...and I was finally discharged. They said I can go back to work when I'm fully recovered." She sent him a toothy grin.

Her eyes landed on the bouquet in his arms, and cocked her head to the side.

"Are those white chrysanthemums?"

"...Yes." He could almost see a question mark form on her lips.

"Dude, you thought I died or something? Why bring 'mourning' flowers?" She giggled.

"No? But…" He set down the bouquet on her bed.

"I heard that they have other meanings…"

"Oh? What are they?"

He plucked two flowers from the bouquet and inched closer to Y/N.

'Eternal…' he tucked one of them behind her ear.

'...and devoted love.' he pried her hands open and placed the second flower on them.

Gun rested his forehead on her shoulder, his eyes welled up at the contact.

He couldn't say the words out loud.

Not after leaving her when she was at her lowest.

...

Ugh.

This isn't how he planned it to go.

He really did love her--but he was also selfish. Distancing himself didn't do any better for the both of them; quite the contrary.

Would stitching back the torn pages heal their wounded hearts this time? Let their colors paint over the dried stains of their past and turn over a new chapter?

Splashes of rain decorated her bedroom window. The colors in her room desaturated as evening enveloped the sky.

"Gun," Y/N held his arms, squeezing them. "It's getting dark. I'm gonna turn on the lights."

"Let's… stay like this for a while." was Gun's only response.

…

Their close proximity. The familiar scent of her detergent. The nostalgic periods of tapping raindrops. The yoke of her shirt getting wet.

It was similar to their first meeting but a little different.

Y/N felt him shake. She chuckled and rubbed circles around his back.

"What's up with you, dummy? It's not even that cold."

#this sounded better in my head/outline i promise #lookism #lookism x reader #lookism manhwa #lookism webtoon #lookism fic #park jonggun #gun park #gun park x reader #park jonggun x reader #congrats and tysm if you reached the end! you get nothing from it tho (prob a headache) haha #bro's still completely ooc tho 🙇‍♀️#i also don't have a particular writing style so my bad if some of these are ❓❓ lol #also my sht grammar sorry abt that

189 notes · View notes

16-jarrah · 2 months

Text

mentioning LOST's church ending got me riled up about the racism in LOST again lol. i obviously am aware that some actors just did not return to production for possibly other reasons, but also especially in the case of harrold perrineau (michael dawson) he felt like his character (and walt, his son) was treated like shit by the writing. and he was absolutely right. i've already made posts about this (will try to dig them up later), but michael was treated absolutely bullshit and unfairly wrt the story. michael betrayed them and killed two people, yes, but what did he do it for but to protect his son? he felt like nobody gave enough fucks about walt and there was some truth to that claim. his whole character arc is about being a dad to walt and their improving relationship over the course of being stuck on the island, so of course he would do that. it just makes sense.

which is why i don't think it's all that fair to punish him for it immensely in the narrative. harrold perrineau said it himself that he didn't want michael and walt to be another case of the absent black father stereotype [citation needed, i'll look for it but he said it in an interview] yet that's what he ended up being anyway. after his and walt's escape from the island, apparently walt cast him away because he doesn't agree with what his father did—which i actually think its interesting to explore: walt disagreeing with michael's actions and trying to grapple with it, but i don't think separating him from his dad was the best writing choice to make. walt is being punished for caring about his son by making his son be the one to cast him away. you can argue it's supposed to be tragic, michael is supposed to be a tragic character, but with the context surrounding michael's character? there's better ways to make his character be tragic than this.

which brings me to his next punishment. i was happy to see michael again on the kahana (just happy to see him in general), but it didn't last long when he gets killed, sacrificing himself to prevent/prolong the kahana's explosion from happening. (put a 📌 on this bc it's similar to how sayid dies and we'll come back to that later.) michael dies here and walt doesn't know about this. and then michael joins as part of the whispers, his soul trapped on the island (presumably forever) and that's why he's not in the church ending.

i'm gonna be frank. michael being trapped on the island because of his guilt or remorse or perhaps repenting for his sins is just bullshit to me. a lot of characters seen in the flash sideways and in the church ending are characters who've done "bad things". it's bullshit to have michael be the only one doomed to pay for his misdeeds forever. his misdeeds for... killing two people. not that killing two people is Nothing, but moreso if you examine the circumstances it's hardly anything to be damned eternally for.

remember the 📌 we had wrt sayid and michael? both of them died trying to prevent an explosion from reaching everybody else. which makes this more egregious imo. i can say 1000 things about sayid's arc (points to url), but this is about michael and not him, so i'll just focus on this: sayid was grappling with "being a bad person" for torturing and killing so many people. he worked as an assassin for ben. and yet, somehow, you're telling me sayid is not being damned eternally for his misdeeds but michael is? if you don't see the BS in that i don't know what to tell you.

i'm also aware why some characters don't appear any more re:conflicts with their actors (or just availabilities or other reasons for declining to come back), but even then arguably any conflicts with harrold perrineau stemmed from a justified place because of how michael was treated.

i think mr eko had a more dignified arc (he's one of my fav characters, thematically speaking) and honestly he had some of the rawest shit i've ever heard:

I ask for no forgiveness father for I have not sinned, I have only done what I needed to do to survive. A small boy once asked me if I was a bad man, if I could answer him now I would tell him, that when I was a young boy I killed a man to save my brothers life. I am not sorry for this, I am proud of this. I did not ask for the life that I was given but it was given none the less, and with it I did my best.

but despite this it doesn't change the fact that his absence in the church ending is very noticeable. he had meaningful connections with charlie, with locke, and interestingly like michael he kind of parallels sayid but this time thematically through their arcs. sayid is constantly burdened with feeling like he's a bad person and resigning to it as some sort of self-fulfilled prophecy, but mr eko is very firm about how he sees himself as not necessarily a bad man, just a man whose hands were forced because of the cards he was dealt. i wish we could have seen a more direct parallel between them, because it would've been interesting. back to the main point: i think it's such a missed opportunity for mr eko to not be here. especially since even after his death, hurley was able to communicate with his ghost, showing that he still had connections with his fellow losties even long after his death.

ana lucia being "not ready to move on" is interesting. but ultimately you can't help but raise a few eyebrows at it anyway. you can argue that, unlike mr eko she died an unresolved death, but most of the LOST characters died with an unresolved death. (she was killed early.) that's the whole point of the sideways segments. so what makes ana lucia so different from the others? yeah she killed shannon, but that was completely a freak accident. her people (the tailies) were being picked off one by one by the other so she was understandably on edge. she was kind of a hated character but i think a lot of it is just racism and misogyny combined tbh. (LOST is...notorious for a lot of misogynistic character writing decisions.) ana lucia was just as complex and morally "ambiguous" as the rest of them. i find the decision to make her corrupt in the sideways segments interesting (negative). cz like, there was never any indication she was like this in real life. what does that corruption symbolize? because obviously that corruption is a key to why she "can't move on yet". what exactly is she supposed to be repenting for? they hinted at a possible direction her arc is going towards before killing her off, ie. her ultimately choosing not to kill "henry gale" because she no longer wants blood on her hands. again, in a way, she's just like sayid! someone who decided they'd turn away from ceaseless violence. only right afterwards she got killed. so what does she need repenting for so much that she's left out of the church ending? much to think about.

i don't really know how to conclude this post. but my main point is that the lack of these characters during the church ending is and has racist implications. (again, i understand the casting issues, but it's still a writing decision you can critique as a viewer at the end of the day). i'll try to find the old posts i made last year abt michael and mr eko and their parallels to sayid and link them here (and self reblog).

edit: go read/look up "burn it down". it details a lot of the behind the scenes mistreatment of the staff (including racism and sexism), including actors and writers. the quote from an interview from harold perrineau that i mentioned was also linked in a reblog. (post link)

#op #lost #lost abc #abc lost #lost 2004 #<- have we agreed on a main tag yet #michael dawson #mr. eko #ana lucia cortez #meta #analysis #media analysis #church ending #//#lostposting #<- my tag for LOST rambles on this blog

73 notes · View notes

helloheyhihowdyheya · 9 months

Text

Rose Thorn Blues | pt. 2

Peter Parker x fem!reader

Part One Masterlist

Summary: Begrudgingly, you let Peter Parker help you with the story. Even if it leads you two going undercover as a couple...

Word count: ~4k

Warnings: Enemies to lovers!! Fake dating!! Banter. More Criminal activity. Swearing. A lil bit of tension.

A/n: Well, I thought I'd share this smaller part before I head on vacation. Sorry it's not longer, but I hope this holds over until I'm back home! Thank you for reading, and let me know your thoughts <3

“Should I be regretting this?” you asked, immediately shaking your head as Parker wheeled over to your side.

“Too late.” He grabbed your notebook from your hands, kicking his feet up on your desk as he began to read. His lips moved silently along with the words, each curved syllable whispering past his mouth. You looked away when his eyes flicked to yours, those lips tilting into a grin even as he continued reading.

His fingers flipped the worn page of your notes, leaving you to pick at the hem of your shirt while waiting for him to finish.

You pulled your legs closer to you, trying to focus on the material of your pants rather than the urge to draw yourself into your body. But your nerves flared at the edges of your senses, telling you made the wrong choice. And only once you were about to pretend to need coffee just to step away, Parker blew out a tight sigh.

He muttered out, “Christ…”

Swallowing down the jolt in your muscles at his words, you turned to him, eyebrows raised. “Is that good or bad?”

His hand scratched along his jaw, his gaze following the words before slowly rising to meet yours. “Uh, your research is… good. Really good. But this,” he said, gesturing to the notebook, “is pretty bad.”

You chewed on your bottom lip, that quiet doubt inside your mind growing ever so louder. Barely blinking, you stared off wondering where this could go. Where you could end up if you went through with it. Your attention only snapped back when Parker cleared his throat.

He watched you, your expressions, with no humor on his face as he whispered, “So, you really went to this warehouse… by yourself in the middle of the night?” His finger pointed at your notes that indeed held your observations from last night. Still, that didn’t stop you from trying to lie and come up with anything that wouldn’t incriminate you.

When you didn’t answer, instead glancing at your fingers intertwining, he scoffed. “You know you could’ve really gotten hurt going there alone. Or worse. I don’t think these guys play around.”

“I wasn’t alone. I talked with Spider-Man,” you said, as if that could convince Parker that your plan hadn’t been a bad idea. But he raised an eyebrow at you, a half-smile on his face.

“Yeah? Now you’re buddy-buddy with him too?” A ghost of a laugh escaped him, but his eyes hardened, not leaving you. “I’m serious, sunshine. Spidey’s not gonna be there to always save you. We gotta do this carefully.”

Choosing to ignore the unyielding tone his words were wrapped in, you grabbed your notebook back from him, your jaw set. “I know that, Parker. And I’m not exactly in harm’s way now that I don’t have any other leads. All he’s got is some BS fundraiser I can’t get into,” you said, sitting back in your chair. Silently, as you traced a finger down the writing you’d gone over dozens of times already, you grumbled under your breath about the rude receptionist you’d talked to about it.

“A fundraiser?”

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. The collar of his long-sleeve shirt swooped down an inch, drawing your eyes to the shadow of his chest before nodding. He then asked, “What could we find out from that anyway? Not like Beaumont is gonna be any more truthful with those rich people than he is with the general public.”

He brought the end of a pen to his mouth, beginning to chew on it before you could realize he took it from your desk. You just pressed your lips together, letting it go as he thought out loud some more — now beginning to spin in his desk chair.

“He’s hiding plenty of secrets as is, I’m sure there’s gotta be some that we could uncover by getting close, right? Maybe we could-”

“Parker! Where are those pictures you promised me!”

Jameson’s voice boomed through the office, sending the both of you jumping in your seats. Parker cleared his throat and called back, “Emailing them to you now, sir.”

Beneath the sound of Parker’s squeaky desk chair rolling back to his side, you heard Jameson swear under his breath. You didn’t dare peek over the half-wall and risk getting yelled at too. Instead, as frantic typing came from Parker’s keyboard, you wrote on a post-it note, “Able to stay late. We can talk about this piece. In peace. Haha…”

You folded it in half twice before tossing it over onto his side and returning to research — even as it felt useless to do so. A small twinge of hope trickled up your spine, so subtle you barely noticed it before it reached the base of your head. A hope that Parker said yes.

As another site turned up blank, you told yourself asking him was just to move this story along, even if it meant spending the evening with the intern you always seemed to stand in the shadow of. But this story could bring you over the top and show Jameson you deserved that job.

A few minutes later, a flash of paper flew from Parker’s side and landed right on your eye.

“Shit…” you groaned out, lightly rubbing your eye and blinking it repeatedly — all while you heard suppressed laughter from the other desk. Quietly, you muttered, “Dick,” and opened up the note. The only thing added to it was a poorly drawn thumbs-up.

With that settled, along with the weird relief at his answer that you shoved lower and lower, you worked on some of your assigned stories. One blurred into the next, all of them superficial enough to turn your brain fuzzy over the course of the work day. You wondered what Alice was working on and if they ever made her feel like this.

By the time people began packing up for the day, long after your mediocre lunch from the closest food shop, your head nearly felt numb. At least this story could be the break you needed from all this — all the unimportant parts of reporting, like who broke up with who, and how Spider-Man is somehow the reason for it. Again.

You rubbed a tired hand down your face, letting the warm darkness of it swallow you for a moment. Your head shot up finally once a granola bar clattered across your desk.

Parker’s head then appeared from around the half-wall, the wave of his dark hair looking ran through. “I stole it earlier today, but I think you need it more than I do, sunshine,” he said, pointing to the bar with a tilt of his head.

Your stomach growled as you grabbed it, ripping it open. “That’s such a stupid nickname,” you muttered before taking a bite, looking up at him with a half-assed glare.

“It’s more creative than you calling me ‘Parker.’ That’s just my last name.” He laughed, his eyes lighting up.

Quirking your head, you blinked slowly at him. “If I’m sunshine, then you’re moonshine. Makes sense too, cause I need to be drunk to even tolerate you, Parker,” you grumbled, finishing off the granola bar.

And before he could open that stupid mouth of his, you threw away the wrapper and said, “I think Jameson’s gone if we want to start on the story. We-”

“Now?” Parker’s eyebrows shot up as he looked at you, his hand coming up to run down his neck. “Immediately vetoing. C’mon.”

Before you could ask any questions, he stood up and walked toward the doors, shouting over his shoulder, “Keep up!”

As much as your mind resisted listening to him, your eyes and legs definitely needed the break. So you followed after him, staring at his back as you made your way down the building’s steps.

Out on the sidewalk, the sun sat lower in the sky at this hour. Clouds scattered throughout kept the air from getting too hot, the feeling bringing a content smile to your face.

Blinking at him, you saw the way the sunlight showered down on Parker. The effortlessness of his hands sitting in his pockets and his hair laying perfectly messy — even his goddamn freckles glowing in the light — set a sparking anger in your chest. It only twisted, turned more sour, when he opened his mouth.

“You know… it’s not polite to stare at someone. Even if they are ruggishly handsome.”

A laughing scoff escaped your mouth, your eyes instead drifting across the crowd of people passing along the sidewalk. “I was just trying to figure out how your head fit such a little brain inside it. Does it just roll around like an acorn in there? Maybe a pea?”

Feeling the glare from his side-eye, you caught his growing half-smile. “Yeah? Could a pea-sized brain be smart enough to find us an actual dinner?”

“I mean… probably. But,” you said, tilting your head at him, “that’s not the worst plan you’ve had.” For emphasis, your stomach growled while you two walked down the street. And through grabbing carryout to eat back at the office, you made it a point to not stare at Parker — or do anything to give him a bigger ego than he already had.

His often irritating words certainly made it easy enough, like now as he spoke in between bites of his food from the takeout box. “So, I’m thinking–”

“Don’t hurt yourself.”

You let out a laugh as he flipped you off, the shaking in your shoulders helping lift a weight from them. At least it was easy to laugh with him — or at him.

With a pointed stare, he continued. “I’m thinking that we have to find the connection between Beaumont and spidey… man. Spider-Man. With that warehouse you nearly burgled.”

You raised a skeptical eyebrow at him as he leaned against your desk. With your feet propped up next to where he sat, you ate your food from your desk chair. The office lay bare beside you two, your ID cards giving you access after hours. Unsurprisingly, the brainstorming hadn’t been terribly productive yet.

“I did not burgle anything… yet. But I haven’t seen anything between those two before. Maybe Beaumont’s just a big fan. He’s taking all our money just to grow his collection of supervillain memorabilia.”

Parker let out a quiet laugh. “Sounds like something Jameson would do.”

You internally shivered at the idea of finding your boss’s secret stash of Spider-Man collectibles.

Silence slipped over the two of you, just the noises of eating and the building’s air conditioning as you both thought through the details. Eventually, he said, “So this Ellis Beaumont guy has to have some sort of conflict with Spider-Man, meaning we could research what crimes of Beaumont’s that Spider-Man has stopped.”

An unsure look overtook your face. “That’s way too many to look through — and it’s not like that information is recorded anywhere. This politician keeps things tightly under wraps…” you sighed, letting out a tired laugh that didn’t feel all that funny. “It feels like I’m right back where I started.”

“Could that fundraiser of his give us answers?” Parker asked, his eyes glancing at yours.

You hesitantly nodded as you swallowed your next bite. “Probably, since it’s at his house apparently. But without an invitation, we’re kind of shit out of luck.”

“So we get an invitation and do some snooping during the event. Easy enough.”

Parker had put his food down, and you did not like the growing smirk on his face. “Before you say anything,” he told you, “I know a guy. It’ll be fine — we’ll just dress the part and do some investigative journalism.”

“Oh, so it’s bad to check out a warehouse, but we’ll just crash the fundraiser of a member of the government body and suspected criminal? You’re insane.” A scoff escaped your mouth when he nodded.

As you dropped your feet from the desk, you wanted to regret letting Parker in on this story or at least question who this guy was that could get you two into this fundraiser, but you had no better plan — or the guts to pull this off without him.

“This has got to be pretty illegal…” you whispered.

Parker gave you a smile that both calmed you and let butterflies loose in your stomach. “Absolutely. But Beaumont committed the crimes first, so we’re just evening it out.” He crossed his arms, the fabric of his long sleeve wrapped tight around them. With an expectant look, he raised his eyebrows at you. “So, are you in?”

A minute passed as you thought, considering any other plans that wouldn’t end with the both of you in jail. But you came up with nothing.

This better be one hell of a story. “Okay, fine. Let’s do this.”

“Great!” he said, clapping his hands together. “One more thing, though. We’re going to have to go as a couple. I’m thinking our last name could be–”

“Excuse me?” You cut him off, your eyes widening. Despite your mouth opening, nothing came out. You just dropped your gaze to the wall behind him as you let out a long breath.

“How else are we going to be convincing? All the other people joining are families or couples, right?”

He explained it so matter-of-factly. You understood, really. But pretending to be married to him while sneaking through a mansion? All for a ridiculous unpaid summer internship?

“Parker, have you come up with a torture plan?” You put your face in your hands, quietly groaning. You could be cordial with him and cautiously appreciate his (persistent) help on the story, but the idea of acting as a couple in love with him brought an uneasiness to your body.

Would Alice approve? It felt again like you weren’t following your heart, which wanted to hide deep down behind your ribs.

Parker looked at you, his mouth pressed tight. “Hey, not exactly like getting down on a knee to you was my original plan here,” he muttered.

Still, you looked back at him, ignoring the intensity of his stare. “So what will our last name be?”

Bennet, it turned out, would be the last name on your IDs and invitations for the banquet in two days. Sam and Rose Bennet.

During the days leading up, the two of you worked on regular assignments under the eye (and screaming) of Jameson.

But if someone looked closely, they’d see your leg constantly shaking beneath your desk and Parker’s nails being bitten down to the bed. They might be able to hear the whispered comments between the two of you — most about what your story would be. They would even see the things neither of you could make out, like the unasked questions on the tips of your tongues or the pull that seemed to exist between you and Parker.

The story you decided on was high school sweethearts — private school, of course. Something arranged by your equally rich and philanthropic parents, whose money you’d be happy to donate to Stronger Together during the fundraiser.

In reality, you both scrounged up enough money to rent nice enough clothes for the event and hoped that you wouldn’t have to pay for any extra damage. Besides the money concern, the risk of something happening to the clothes (and you, more importantly) weighed over your mind. Parker didn’t seem to have any worries, or voice them to you at least, about this whole plan going sideways.

So, you planned for it by yourself. Which exits would be best, which people you should probably stay away from. And you still didn’t ask how Parker exactly got you two into this, not that you were sure you wanted to know.

It didn’t even cross your mind the night of, not as you stood in your apartment, slipping on a floor-length gown that seemed to lay just right. Your fingers ran along your body, fixing things here and there until you were sure no rich politician would look twice at you and suspect something. Looking at yourself in the mirror, you weren’t sure you recognized yourself — or the idea you had of yourself. Maybe that was a good thing.

Your frayed nerves turned electric as your phone went off, a text from Parker letting you know he was here. For a minute, you hesitated. The constant thrumming in your chest clouded your thoughts, telling you something that you couldn’t quite make out.

As a second, more impatient, text came through, you gave one last glance at yourself and walked out into the hallway.

Each step to the front door in shoes that squeezed your feet much too tightly felt like a jolt to your heart. A breeze pushed past you as you walked out to his car — one that he’d have to park far away so the valet couldn’t see his shitty 2004 Honda Civic.

Parker stood leaning against the side of the vehicle, one hand scratching at his jaw and the other shoved far into his rented tux’s pockets. He stared down at his shoes, his vacant look telling you he also had a thousand thoughts running through his mind.

But as his gaze drifted up, connecting with yours, that worried crease between his eyebrows smoothed out, his hand dropping from his jaw down to his lap. Your steps slowed, your fingers clutching tight onto a purse you borrowed from a friend.

Those honeyed eyes turned bright as a ghosting smile spread across his face. You took in the image of him staring at you in that tuxedo — one that you could tell he wasn’t used to if you looked too hard. Not that you were doing that, of course. Still, the expensive material sat nicely along his tanned skin from the summer sun.

Though, you couldn’t figure out what felt off about him until you came closer, the buzzing in your ears growing much too loud as you neared. Reaching a hand up, your eyebrows furrowed, you went to fix his hair. The caramel strands sat straight and slicked back. It didn’t look like he’d run his fingers through it a hundred times.

But as you felt his breath brush along your skin, saw the stillness of his body, you paused. Too close. Too much, even for a fake couple.

You dropped your hand by your side, begging your body to calm down. You avoided his eyes as you took a step back. “Sorry,” you whispered, maybe for the first time to him, “Your hair just looks so…”

“Stuffy? Obnoxious? Greasy?”

“Pretentious is what I was going to say.”

His tight laugh brought some sort of relief to your tense muscles, even as he pushed off his car and muttered, “Glad we both look the part then.”

You raised an eyebrow, staring at him while fighting a smile. “You know, Parker — or Bennet, I should say — a real gentleman would’ve opened my door for me.”

Right before he plopped down in his car, he said, “You’re lucky I’m even picking you up, Mrs. Bennet.”

Quietly, you let out a huff and got into the passenger seat. Your hands brushed along your dress, straightening it out.

As you picked off a stray piece of lint, you said, “I’m not sure this is the right way to start as a couple.” You tried to make your words sound easy, but it didn’t even sound convincing to you.

Parker began driving, keeping his eyes on the road as he drummed a finger along the steering wheel. “You’re right — but don’t let that get to your head, sunshine. Okay, when did we first meet?”

“We first met fifteen years ago, but we didn’t start dating until ten years ago when our parents put us together. Toward the end of high school…”

“Where we went to different colleges but made the long-distance thing work. Somehow,” he said, waving a hand as if it didn’t matter or no one would ask how.

“And now, using the money we’ve saved up through our parents’ endowment funds and-”

“Wait, what does that even mean?” you asked, realizing he came up with this without telling you until now.

“It uh… it’s something to do with donations. I Googled it — it’s fine. Anyway, we’re using that and their savings to give back like they have always wanted. Great, fool-proof.”

Pursing your lips, you nodded for a second before shaking your head. “Parker, that makes no goddamn sense. This is a terrible idea.”

“Well, we’re going to be there soon, so too late now.”

“It’s actually not too late,” you told him, your throat feeling tight. “Let’s just turn around, okay?”

“Hey,” he said as the car came to a stoplight. He turned to look at you, the shine of the light illuminating half of his face.

His voice came out soft. “You nearly burgled a criminal’s warehouse, and you lied to a government official’s secretary, or something. This will be a piece of cake, alright?” Ever so quietly, a warmth bloomed in your chest, melting the cold fear that’d been wrapping around you. You gave him a short nod, making him give a tight-lipped smile and keep driving. “Great! Now, suck it up, sunshine, and come up with a better backstory. I can’t do all of the thinking in this marriage.”

A laugh bubbled up from your mouth. You rolled your eyes, even though your fidgeting had calmed down.

With a long breath out, you said, “What about if my grandmother left me money in her will, and I’m honoring her memory by giving it back to the city she loved?”

“Not bad… and sorry for your imaginary loss. I think it’ll keep people from prying too much further.”

“I hope so,” you muttered, hoping this half-baked plan would work.

Eventually, Parker slowly rolled the car to a stop. He parked on a smaller residential road a few blocks away, but you could still see the lights shining into the sky from Beaumont’s place. His castle to overlook all the peasants of the city.

Your shoes clicked across the pavement, the two of you nearing the mansion. With each step, you tried harder to ignore your heart hammering louder.

You breathed out a shaky breath when Parker held out his arm next to you. Hesitantly, you took it, wrapping your arm around his. Normally, you might’ve ignored the hardness of his body or the warmth seeping into your skin, but the solid, unyielding feeling of him brought some sort of grounding.

Leaning his mouth toward your ear, Parker said, “Which one do you think is going to pop first? The vein bulging from Jameson’s forehead or the huge one in his neck?”

The laughs you let out were sharp and involuntary, a smile breaking out on your face. Looking at him, at the grin he sent your way, you said, “Definitely the one on his forehead. And you’re going to be the one to make him mad enough to pop it.”

“I’ll be sure to wear those plastic ponchos the next time I’m late.”

“So… Monday? We can pick one up after the fundraiser for you.”

The giggles underlacing your words slowly died down as you turned the street corner, your eyes catching all the other couples approaching the towering house. Valets stood at the front, taking car keys from guests before they came to the doors — guards standing on either side.

“You’ve got the invitations?” you whispered to Parker, your hold on his arm growing tighter.

He quietly scoffed. “Of course I have them. Who do you think I-” His words stopped, his hands patting down his suit jacket for the invitation. Right as you felt your stomach threaten to curl in on itself, he flashed you a grin. “Just kidding, they’re right here,” he told you, grabbing them from his pocket.

With a forced smile plastered to your face in front of all these guests, you gritted out, “I’m going to murder you.”

“You are too funny, dear,” Parker said, or more likely, Sam Bennet said as the two of you walked up to the doorman holding his hand out for the invitations.

The way Parker’s mouth curled around the affectionate name felt foreign at first, but the way the doorman looked at the two of you — as if you really were a happy couple — made it feel right.

And that was it, that was all it took for a softness to flow over you and let yourself become Rose Bennet. For tonight.

@hollandweather @dil3mma @reidslovely

#peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker x fem!reader #tasm!peter #tasm andrew garfield #tasm peter parker #tasm spiderman #the amazing spider man #spider man x reader #spider-man x reader

158 notes · View notes

mayakern · 4 months

Note

I don’t think that they’re only interested in going after conventionally attractive people just asking for help there specifically because going for someone society says is way out of your league and would never look at you except with disgust if you asked them out is a fucking huge mental hill to get over .

Also tbh I find people say “ conventionally attractive “ about anyone they find attractive regardless of if they actually fit in that narrow cookie cutter

idk dating just kind of sucks in general and all i can say is… sometimes if you want to be with someone you just have to shoot your shot and put yourself out there.

it’s painful and it sucks, but at the end of the day, everyone has different things they look for in a partner and the people who won’t give you the time of day for being fat aren’t people who make good partners anyway. almost everyone gains weight as they age. someone who wouldn’t find you lovable for your weight now is someone who likely will dump their skinny gf once she has health complications or gets depressed or just… ages normally.

i’m not gonna say some BS about learning to love yourself or finding confidence by getting really into makeup or whatever, bc at the end of the day, what we look like doesn’t really matter. all you can do is try to be yourself and let people get to know you. and that’s important: if you’re trying to find someone you genuinely care for, you have to let them get to know you. and that means you have to be honest, even when it’s difficult.

but idk i’ve only dated like 4ish people and i’ve only ever been in love with one person. i can’t talk about dating as its own, like, sport. i really only know about my specific relationship.

#ask

66 notes · View notes

ryuseibutgayer · 7 months

Note

I’m hopping on the yamagishi agenda.. Yamagishi watching in awe as his girlfriend kicks ASS to protect him(and maybe mizo mid in general)

HIII thank you for your request!! <3 so sorry for the late reply :v I tried my best to provide the envisioning I thinnnnk you want? Hope I did :v let's beat some ASS, anon 😤

TW: beating up, Swearing, Makoto theft, blood mentions, Makoto pervy, Takuya future job reference

ꜱᴍᴀᴄᴋ ᴀ ʙɪᴛᴄʜ ɪɴᴛᴏ ᴄʜʀɪꜱᴛᴍᴀꜱ ᴇᴠᴇ

YAMAGISHI

• He was just at the wrong place at the wrong time. That's all. Then some assholes decided that he looked funny.

• The second he spoke up to try and defend himself even the tiniest sliver, he immediately regretted it as the tallest one stood closer to him with that ugly stretched neck look.

• The thing that Yamagishi wasn't clenched and prepared for was you to come flying out from behind him- landing your foot square on that ugly bitch's face

• Yamagishi thought he'd been hit actually, so he'd flinched and dropped his ass back against the pavement- you can imagine his face when he looked up and it was y o u kicking ass

• This boy would immediately get right back up and start trying to find the best angle to watch

• He would start SCREAMING cheers and supporting you kicking ass

• God knows he can't do it himself

• Once you come back over to him after handing them back their last ass, he'd hold your face in his hands and start saying the most self-berative thanks to you💀💀 he'd also question how the fuck you did that

• expect ice cream later, constant bowing for the next week, and maybe a little hesitation he has with you when horse playing

AKKUN

• Oh God not the pretty boy

• Why him

• 😭 people were makin fun of his clean looks n shit like they could look half as good

• They were right out at the front of the school (exhibitionist jackassed punks)

• Akkun was ready to fucking take it just to get it over with with a gritted face as the brown haired assholw held him up by his collar

• AND THEN BAMMO YOU COME IN FUCKIN UP THAT BASTARDS ARM, LETS GO (nice job)

• Akkun just fell and got dust in his eyes 😭 after he rubbed his scratched butt and rubbed the dirt out of his vision, you were on top of the guy?? Goddamn you rabid freak, girl go off beatin his ass like that

• Yeah Akkun was worried tho so he shouted a tiny bit after he figured the guy had enough and trieda pullya off a tad

• Once you were back on your feet, the both of you were standing there out of breath just looking at each other all bewildered like 😧

• Then akkun would speak up and ask you "where the hell did you learn that, y/n-"

• He'd end up barely listening to your explanation and drag you off to the school nurse for your little scratches and knuckles

• He's gonna make sure he walks you home that day to make sure you both have the time to talk about- alla that

• He'll ask you to try and keep it in check, but he'll definitely thank you- he's STILL shocked at that

• He'll ask you try and not get involved with his bs affairs, just to make sure you'll be safe and not get in trouble for anything he dragged you into

• Sweet pomp boy <3

TAKUYA

• Mr future drug dealer

• IM KIDDING, ITS OVER THE COUNTER LAXATIVES TFYM, COOL IT Y/N

• Anyways

• Yeahhhh he was approached by some cunty punk that heard he was getting good grades in his science classes and started pushing onto Takuya with his "will you tutor me?? 🥺" bullshit

• Takuya obviously just flat out tried to express he didn't wanna be associated with this guy and his grunts, even if it meant helping him out

• Guess what set the idiot off

• y/n I can't imagine how mad you must've been going around the school looking for your boyfriend just to find him shoved onto the floor by someone that wasn't you

• "Only I sexualize bullying my boyfriend you bitch" vibes

• so of course you knocked that low grade asshole in the side of the head

• Once you got that punk just dazzled and walking in a dumb little circle, Takuya got up in time to slug him in the jaw for the final pinch and bwoof, suddenly there's a punk on the floor

• Takuya just was so grateful and physically affectionate after that

• He'd check ya all around to make sure you're all set, give you a hug or a noogie, then you'd both walk to the infirmary (his favorite place <3) ew takuya

• expect giggles and shits in the nurse's office like two little psychos until you both went home to watch a movie together

MAKOTO

• Yeah he's a thief, so what? B)

• Makoto kinda stole some cash from this unattended wallllleeeeeet..

• It kinda belonged to a big bad guyyyy....

• And he was kind offff being held against the wall of the alley outside a grocery store you two planned to meet at that day to grab snackkkkks, soooo

• BWAM SLAM HIS FACE IN THE GLASS

• GET 'IM IN THE SPINE Y/N, GRAHHH

• You absolutely got that guy's blood all over the pavement, look at you go

•Makoto practically shit himself when he got approached by in the first place

• THEN he almost shit himself when someone kicked him in the head

• Makoto was this . close to leaking that shit down his pant leg when he realized the person beating up that delinquent was you.

•......girl.

• Imma be dead ass with you, Makoto is horrified, but from that point on it's an immediate turn-on.

• He's gonna suggest some weird ass service in order to thank you, but ofc what else

• HE'LL BUY YOU DINNER FIRST, DONT DISCARD HIS CLASS MK

• speaking of, he bought all the snacks you breathed on in that grocery store after.

139 notes · View notes

devine-fem · 2 months

Note

Oh, thank you for the explanation! But like i said, again, i generally don't ship kids at all (any, not just Jon, Damian, etc) and I am not even your follower. I came across your account because of a post and you are under the replies and saw your bio and just decided to casually ask (hence I said I am neutral and all).

And honestly I can relate about this particular thing you talked about: shipper of particular ship doesn't know about half of the ship at all because they only read one series and don't care about the rest of comics predated this particular series that justify their ship. And it's worse for me because the ships that I dislike is white mlm with quite huge fandom so they don't care if they butcher half of their ship character, as long as they can continue shipping this bland and again bad characterization of half of the ship they supposed to like. It's even bad when this ship fans are badmouthing half of the ship’s canon love interest which is a woman of color character. Like bam, they really went for misogyny and racism to justify their hatred for her.

Not me ranting lol but yeah that's it. Anyway again thanks for answering my previous question.

I’ve talked about this before.

The post.

I don’t get the whole crying misogyny and homophobia thing but sometimes it IS very blatant that someone is using stuff to hide both misogyny and homophobia at times.

A lot of damijon hate is homophobic and a lot of twitter damijon stans hide their misogyny.

I also believe that we can just dislike any character, for reasons or no reason at all. There shouldn’t have to be a reason for you to dislike anything ever. No one is obligated to like something.

I saw a post that was like “Damijon stans don’t have a good enough reason to dislike Daminika-“ on twitter (of course) but I was like, nice, we’re generalizing a group of people in a queer space and spewing BS on how people should be obligated to like something be it feminine, masculine, POC or whatever it may be.

Making generalizations that ALL people in a queer space sounds like something a y’know… would do, but eh, that’s just me.

Personally, If you like JonJ*y, go right the hell ahead. I cannot stop you, I know that and I don’t care to. Why you’d want to inflict that on yourself is beyond me because obviously, I don’t like it but me hating it should not stop you from enjoying it.

Notice how I always censor the words and never tag hate - it’s because I don’t want any Jonj*y enjoyers getting this on their dash and feeling bad about their ship. It’s totally up to you what you consume and enjoy and someone on the internet should never take that away from you.

I’m the same way with damijon and it’s the happiest I have never been. I realize that people feel the need to drag other’s down to make themselves feel better. I know it’s cliche but it’s real. It’s always easier to trash and degrade someone else than it will ever be to work on yourself.

Damijon is my OTP. I’ll always stand behind it for the near future and no one’s gonna take that away from me. Anon hate, hate dms, hate berating on twitter. All these things will only make me like it more all the while watching you spiral into loneliness and self pity the moment you realize no one on twitter actually cares about what you have to say.

Me on the other hand? Girl, I graduated with a degree in IDGAFeology and I really couldn’t care less about anything someone else has to say about me or how I spend my time. When you take a step back you realize that we really trying to publically humiliate people using an idea of people in our head and shreds of paper that represent life but don’t infact replicate it, how you represent these stories may reflect deeply on you in negative ways but I’m just the type of person who, again, does not care enough, just keep it AWAY from me.

What I’m trying to say is some people really gotta pipe down and live a little. And no prob, anon.

#jondami #damian wayne #jon kent #supersons #super sons #jonathan kent #jon kent age up #asks #dc comics

43 notes · View notes

princess-of-the-corner · 2 months

Note

For no particular reason here is some important, totally canon MHA lore courtesy of Smash:

The support course makes most of the stuff for the hero course including comedy props and robotic copies of the staff.

UA occasionally lets people who want to apply there watch classes and even take part in Hero Course lessons.

Momo can perfectly copy others' behaviour if she tries, can stop her lungs at will and is a magnificent opera singer.

Competitive baseball ceased existing after the dawn of quirks but Ochako is a fan anyway.

Fighting game combos are real but only Ochako can do them because her quirk lets her replicate weird physics engine bs.

Bakugo is an expert cook and baker but is also too scary to be asked about it. He's also a pretty good life coach, a favourite of local kids and one of the better rescuers on the team (according to Aizawa)

Endeavor is the most awkward motherfucker on the planet

Mt. Lady wasn't allowed to take hero courses due to her quirk but still decided to be one with some remedial courses to inspire other people with "volatile" quirks. This was a very mixed success.

Disney doesnt exist anymore but its remnant company is still an ass about copyright.

Izuku has a shitton of stuff about Katsuki in his notebooks and made multiple copies of it to hand out/in case they explode. He's also a cat's cradle expert.

The class is generally pretty good at improvised group dances.

All Might drafted up an anime about his life back in his early career and apparently it's Bad.

Midnight has a shonen rivalry fetish.

Shoto has used Half Hot before the Sports Fest but only in love doses and exclusively to attract cats. He also likes hunting bugs a lot (with a similar tactic) and doesn't know how mosquitos work.

Mic knows Muai Tai and wants to show it off really badly.

13's outfit is apparently a uniform UA just has on hand for Reasons.

Gonna respond to these individually so:

Love that! I've actually discussed before on the same wavelength of how the Support Course would be best suited to learn alongside Hero Students so they can see practical applications! I'd like more if they worked together a bit and/or the support students got classes where they just watch the Hero Training classes and take notes.

Honestly being allowed to check out potential schools you apply to does make sense.

Girl has many talents

how do you lose competitive baseball of all things? Like don't get me wrong I have little love for baseball, but why would it go away?

Ochako is best. Just fuckin. That's hilarious.

Katsuki being good at cooking is great but also being good with children? If a hero career never works out then housewife is a great option. (but also something something 'character with abrasive personality and power that's default dangerous and destructive also being one of the best with soft things that take patience like food and children)

This one? Beautiful. He's a loser. I love him.

It seems some bullshit that she wasn't allowed to take Hero Classes like. She can make a good Hero! And while her Quirk application is somewhat niche, it's not out of the realm of being needed. Hell, between her debut scene being fighting a giant villain therefore matching him in size, and the fact that this is a world where things like giant robots can exist, she's def needed. Like yeah she- she needs to learn to be a bit better about property damage but if she'd had gone to one of the schools and had experienced Heroes coaching her, that learning curve would be fantastic.

Disney will be Disney lmao

Izuku. Honey. I love you but that's a bit stalker-y and I would not be surprised if Katsuki blasts you into oblivion for that.

The gang is just all sharing a brain cell

All Might is also a fucking loser I love him.

I 100% think that all Heroes just have something for the shonen rivalry thing because like. Just. You need a close friend you can have a rivalry with to push each other to be the best you can be and then also spar with one another and oh hey getting pinned down like this is kinda hot ain't it? Every Hero has a 'type' and it's 'someone who will be affectionate but also throw me through a wall'.

Shoto using his fire to make himself warm and attract cats is fucking hilarious like baby!!!

Also a fucking loser I love him

That's hilarious actually

14 notes · View notes

cat3ch1sm · 2 years

Note

could u write about what you think the hxh adult trio would look for in a potential s/o, personality-wise along with general appearance preferences? would they be attracted to someone more level-headed, assertive, bubbly, lighthearted, flirty, coy, teasing, able to see through their bs or nottt🤭what do u thinkkk

🐸| this is late for no reason man im sorry

what the adult trio looks for in an s/o!

ʚ┈┈୨❁୧┈┈ɞ

illumi

physical appearance

first of all, i don't see illumi caring excessively about appearance. but regardless of gender, i feel like illumi would want someone with a more delicate, elegant build. he pays attention to features most people don't- collarbones, hands, etc.

for a male s/o, i think he'd be more attracted to the veins in his hands or the prominence of the bones/muscles in his neck and collarbone rather than wanting huge, hulking muscles or rock-hard abs. illumi would probably appreciate him having long hair as well- it has nothing to do with his own hair, he just thinks it's an elegant look. he kinda wants more of a thin frame instead of dwyane johnson or something

and for a female s/o, rather than looking at boobs or ass or things like that, he'd look at the shape of her hands or how slender her fingers are. i imagine he wants her to have softer, less obvious curves rather than looking like an IMVU character or something.

in general, he wants his partner to look refined and put-together, but he doesn't want someone who looks boring- be just a little out there; have something slightly different about you than everybody else.

personality

illumi, honestly, could care less about true romance or chemistry- you just have to make him look good (not that he really needs you to do that anyway, but it helps).

an absolute must for illumi is intelligence. like, above normal, almost genius level intelligence. you need to be able to think very fast, be able to rationalize, and be able to manipulate effectively. and illumi will not hesitate to lie to you to see if you can see through it or not. if he's looking at you for a potential s/o, but you can't see through the lie, he'll immediately become detached- but if you can and point it out, he'll definitely want you around often.

everything you do has to be suited to illumi's agenda- he doesn't see why you should have any objectives of your own when you're with him. you serve him, and if that's a problem, he won't have a bit of an issue with completely cutting you off.

illumi can't deal with an overly affectionate or emotional s/o. it's annoying to him, and he won't like being around you if you're extra clingy or something like that. he needs you to not need any display of affection from him- he really isn't all that emotionally available. he also can't stand disorganized people who don't get things done in an extremely timely manner- also an instant no.

despite not wanting you to be clingy, illumi does want you to be very submissive to him. you can't defy any orders and whenever he wants you, in more ways than one, you have to comply. there's not much of an option for you, honestly.

hisoka

appearance

ultimately, your looks won't be what Hisoka stays with you for- but they're probably the very first thing that attracts him to you.

unlike Illumi, hisoka does tend to notice the typical things most people point out- muscles, boobs, etc. although, he doesn't care for extremely large/almost disproportionate body parts like these. his personal favorite is thighs,

there's a pretty high chance Hisoka will go for you if he things you look innocent. wide, sparkly eyes and a shy, submissive demeanor is what really turns him on. not gonna lie, the first thing he thinks about appearance-wise is sex appeal. (yes, it is a bit concerning that innocence=sex appeal to him, but i mean, what did y'all expect💀)

if you have a boring appearance- no makeup, jewelry, unique outfits, generic hair- hisoka won't pay any attention to you. you don't catch his eye, he'll automatically assume you're weak and not very intelligent.

personality

this was already very obvious- you have to be powerful. at least at hisoka's level or show potential to get to Hisoka's level. nothing else will really matter if you're not powerful- he'll think of you as boring and want nothing to do with you.

like illumi wants as well, you should be capable of lying and manipulating without feeling bad about it. people with a lack of conscience really get him going.

he also loves feisty people who are never satisfied with anything. if you're stubborn or impossible to please, he'll for sure make it his personal mission to fix that- of course, in his own fun ways

hisoka either wants to be with people for their power or just to make him look good/sex appeal. assuming you're not any more powerful than Hisoka, he just wants you as a pretty little thing on his shoulder. you'd more or less be there for when he gets horny or feels like showing something off. in summary, you're just for show if you're just an average person ability-wise.

he won't like an s/o who always wants to know everything about him. in other words, he doesn't care for openness. if you interfere in his daily activities or inquire about any of them, he'll definitely get annoyed.

i doubt hisoka would want an overly emotional s/o- as in, you get very upset or angry at a lot of things and act irrationally. hisoka just doesn't see anything as worth the trouble. hisoka can be quite cold and aloof if you get on his nerves. so, yeah, if you're sensitive, Hisoka is not the man for you.

like most people think, i believe hisoka would like a submissive s/o. but i also think he wants someone dominant every once in a while. not just in the bedroom, just someone to keep him on his toes and from being bored.

also, i hope you like playing cards...!

chrollo

appearance

chrollo probably cares the least about appearance of these three. but, that isn't to say he doesn't have his preferences.

unlike hisoka, he doesn't care for extravagant or loud appearances. if you have unusually colored hair, strange makeup, odd clothing, or numerous piercings, he probably won't take a second glance at you. he'd prefer someone plainer- but with that little spark to them that lets him know you're different. (of course, tattoos aren't a problem for chrollo.)

if chrollo has an aesthetic preference, i think he'd go for a dark academia or nymphette s/o. something sophisticated and innocent but simple.

chrollo much prefers long hair to short hair, for women or men. long hair just flows so nicely and looks so elegant, especially in the wind.

i think chrollo has a thing for blush as well. if your cheeks are naturally red or pink, or your knees and knuckles have that red tinge to them, he'll probably find you attractive regardless of your face.

chrollo likes wide eyes as well. they always appear alert and shiny and seem mysterious to him; it makes him wonder what the owner of those eyes has experienced.

personality

chrollo wants someone who makes him think. he wants someone who asks philosophical questions, and can also answer them, and who makes him see life in a different perspective.

chrollo doesn't mind affection, even physical- he will want someone who draws out the softer side of him, someone who he doesn't have to pretend to be ruthless around. as a matter of fact, he's touch-starved- feel free to touch his face or hands as much as you want.

if you read a lot, chrollo will be instantly fond of you- especially if you're into antique books or old plays like he is. you'll probably talk about books a lot

quiet people are his favorite- to him, it means you think a lot, and chrollo enjoys the long, not awkward silences where you both are okay with being in your own little worlds for awhile. usually, when he goes out, admirers (of course being oblivious to who he actually is) flock around him and want to do nothing but fawn over him. with a quiet person, he can relax and escape all of that.

chrollo's love language is acts of service. even a small, sweet gesture can make his entire day. so if his s/o's love language is the same, you are quite compatible.

you really need to be able to defend yourself if you're going to be chrollo's s/o. the number of people who come after him seeking revenge every day seems nearly infinite, and chrollo won't always be there. as a matter of fact, he won't even consider dating you if you're not a very skilled Nen user or extremely, extremely proficient in other attack skills if you're not a Nen user.

513 notes · View notes