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so ig i like never talk abt fortnite on here but for whatever reason its been Loving Nolan Chance Hours and i just want everyone to know that i consistently read his backbling name wrong
i’ve always read it as “lunchbox” (as opposed to “lockbox”). and yk what? it makes more sense. that mf WOULD bring a lunchbox to his heists.
little sandwiches cut into dinosaurs and shit. maybe a capri sun and a fruit roll up
#idk why i’m posting this#i just feel like the nolan lovers will understand me#nolan chance#nolan chance fortnite#fortnite
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We love diamond guy aka montague fortnite covered in blood ( at least I do )
#montague#montague fortnite#french man is very attractive to me#never thought i’d write that out but here we are
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Did you ask for bloodied midas
#midas#midas fortnite#holy shit these are so insane#i’ve always been a slut for a lil blood but gawd DAM
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I’m out.
#tlou part 2#ellie tlou#tlou art#she’s so babygirl#i ADORE artists that give ellie a little blood for seasoning#give me the violent lesbian content#art#illustration
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“So will you please show me your real face
Draw the line in the horizon
'Cause I only need your name to call the reasons why I fought”— Poets of the Fall, War
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hyperfixation acquired: sad writer game [wip]
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i’m gonna add onto this mess: the block button exists.
i fucking hate that shit. i don’t want to interact with people who write it, read it, or think it’s okay. so i don’t.
you wanna know how i do that? i just fucking block them and move the hell on. i think we need to take some notes here.
#leon kennedy x reader#srsly guys grow up#leon kennedy#leon kennedy fic#ALSO publicly bullying someone is fucking vile
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#i HÂTE the tower ending#BUT#it’s such an amazing goodbye scene for johnny and v#cyberpunk 2077#phantom liberty
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Guyss, new Sex Bob-Omb album!! (Real)(Not Fake)
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a new song
gideon graves x reader.
words: 1439
fluff
canon divergent, i love my pookie bear soft gideon, sorry. this is very lightly proofread, so if there are mistakes, look away. ill fix it eventually. i dont know if i want to exclusively use gordon or gideon or bounce between the two. if you have any strong thoughts about this lmk. as always, thanks for reading!!
The longest imaginable day at work had finally come to an end. Escaping the torrential downpour at home, comfy clothes on, bed looking nice and cozy, getting ready to settle down for a nice quick end to your night. But just as you sat down, throwing the blanket over your lap, locking in to watch that new show everyone has been discussing, you swore you heard the faintest knocks on your door.
Two raps, so quiet you had to pause and strain to listen, attempting to decipher if they were even real, or just residual noise from thundering rain outside. A beat, two. Nothing. Several moments pass before you pick up on the sound of shuffling feet moving away from the door slowly.
Standing and moving quickly to peek outside, you see a man. His features are almost nondiscernible through the droplets and the dark of the night, and it takes a moment to place the black hair and tri-color suit. Lighting strikes nearby, and the same bolt of light strikes you. Flashes of a little, scrawny kid with glasses plague your mind all at once, stunning you momentarily before you finally rasp out the name.
“Gordon?”
He turns back to you, only illuminated by the pale orange light let out from your cracked door. His clothes are demolished, his white suit jacket torn through and fraying. His glasses are broken in several spots, leaving them to hang loosely on his pale, sunken face.
“Hey.” He sighs out, breath catching and fogging in the brisk air. Watching him makes your muscles ache. Violent shivers wrack his body, and you can tell even in the dim light how hard he is trying to minimize them. If he clenched his jaw any harder, he'd break his teeth.
“What are you doing here? In the rain?” You ask puzzled, opening the door further to scan the surrounding night. Silence. It was just him, and you weren't sure what that meant. The great Gideon Graves, filthy and soaking wet on your doorstep looking an awful lot like some kind of dumped kitten.
“I… I didn't have anywhere else to go. Anyone else to go to…” He chokes out, sounding strangled. He looks away to the ground, kicking some spare gravel littering the sidewalk instead of meeting your gaze. You watch silently as he gives out a particularly hard shiver, and despite him trying to hide it, he winces in pain.
“Look, I’m freezing just standing here, I can't imagine how you feel. Come in, we can talk more.” you offer sympathetically. Is your mother's voice in the back of your head, yelling out to you to not let this almost stranger inside your home, yes. But, are your memories of the dorky kid you used to know playing on the same frequency? Also yes.
He freezes, pondering, before looking back to you. The smallest smile graces his features, before he nods, and journeys back up the steps to your front door. On the last step, you stick out your hand to him. He grabs it gently, and despite his hand feeling like it is solid ice, it sets you on fire.
-
Gordon was a bag of surprises tonight.
It started when you had offered to get him some warm, dry clothes, and while he gladly accepted the offer to get rid of the soaked suit he was wearing, he very kindly informed you that he didn't need a new shirt. He must have seen the baffled look on your face, staring at the red shirt that was currently leaving a water puddle in your entryway, and he revealed a white top underneath that was (mostly) dry. But that wasn't the true surprise. It was the large black font of the front spelling ‘NO FEAR’.
It gave you a flood of familiarity and nostalgia, and you couldn't help but smile. He's different, you're different, but somehow all these years later, you're still just the same kids you once were.
The second surprise was when you finally got him to sit down and let you look at the scratches and cuts on his face and arms. There were plenty of them, all in varying sizes and severity. You were no ER doc, but you figured that with this many wounds combined with the borderline hypothermia (thank god he didn't put up a fight when you offered him to use your shower, his shaking had disappeared when he rejoined you) as well as playing in rainwater for only god knows how long, it wouldn't hurt to clean them up. Luckily none of them were bad enough to need serious medical care.
You had asked what happened, and other than a few very non-committal answers, Gordon had all but ignored your questions. You had mostly resigned yourself to quietly looking over his wounds, while he taped up the frames of his glasses and the TV droned on in the other room when Gordon sat up straighter and shook you off. You stepped back to give him some room when he started talking.
“You deserve answers. It isn't fair of me to crash on you and then not tell you why.” He says, rolling out his shoulders and meeting your eyes. “Everything I have is gone. My job, my company, my life. All taken away by some low level theater junkie I made the mistake of underestimating. I have nothing, I am nothing,” He ends.
“Gordon, I’m…” You start, but he cuts you off.
“It's over now. What's happened is already done, you know? The real question is what I'm going to do about it, and trust me, he's going to regret double crossing me like he did. Sooner rather than later. And the rest of those clowns that took his side will be right there with him, and…” He pauses to take a breath before deflating. “And… nothing. I don't know what I'm saying.” He drops his head into his hands. “You're all I have left. And, I shouldn't be dumping this on you,”
You rest a hand on his shoulder, and he stops his rambling. He looks up at you, and you feel your face beginning to burn. The look in his eyes is so heartfelt and sweet you can't hold eye contact for long. You swear the vibrancy of the room around you has multiplied in your peripheral like you've been transported into a supernova. You give his shoulder a gentle squeeze before letting go.
“It's late, you should get some sleep.” you say quietly, not wanting to disturb the aura that's been created, afraid if you speak too loudly or move too quickly, it'll vanish. Gordon nods, standing from where you had pulled out a seat for him in your kitchen, and follows you to the living room. He sits himself down on your couch, and even if you pretend not to notice, you can see him watching you turn on the various lamps to softly illuminate the room. When you turn to him, he looks away.
“I promise it's super comfortable. Fell asleep on it more times than I can count. I’ll, uh, find you a blanket, and stuff. One second.” you say shyly. It only takes a moment to find what you are looking for, and upon reentering the living room you find Gordon standing and examining the room. From the pictures you have displayed, to various knick-knacks, and everything else in plain view. Eyes scanning each thing, looking them over slowly, before turning to the next. It's strangely endearing to see him so engaged with random bits and pieces of your life. It's your turn to observe for several moments before he notices your presence. Meeting him halfway, you hold out the pile of blankets.
“Thank you, for everything. You don't know how much it means to me, after everything that’s happened.” Gordon says in a low voice, taking the stack from you, your hands brushing as they pass. His hands are much less frigid now, and the same electricity from earlier passes between the one simple touch, and it once again lights up your chest with a divine warmth. Electric wings flutter between your ribs. Sparks. You think it must just be you, but upon looking at Gordon, the same look of surprise and delight is on his face as well. And then he smiles. For the first real-time all night, and god, it's beautiful. The kind of smile where you can't help but smile back with just as much intensity.
“Anytime. Goodnight, Gordon.”
“Goodnight”
-
The butterflies in your chest flew all night long.
#gordon goose#gideon graves#gideon graves x reader#scott pilgrim takes off#gordon goose x reader#my writing
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just found ur blog after revisiting my gravity falls obsession and am so happy to see new gravity falls content! keep up the good work!!:) m sure every ford fan is so grateful
thank you so much!! i’m so glad you’ve enjoyed them! ❤️
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running out of second chances
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I really like your Ford fics. It is such soft and warm love between Ford and oc, I really like the way you write.
Kind of tmi, lol, but I tend to feel a bit sad when I read Ford writings, which I haven't done in so long, because I had a "Ford" in my life once. He had blue eyes, the same brown hair, and a nice pair of glasses. We liked each other for some time but I was just too shy to make any moves. Last I've seen, he's found someone new.
But I feel a nice, warm feeling when I read your fic on Ford tying oc's shoelaces and I just feel hopeful to have these little moments of love in the future.
Wonderful writing. Thank you.
this literally has made my entire (otherwise shitty) day.
i’m ngl that’s why i write fluff or like comfort? fics. i’ll be sitting there kickin my feet and giggling writing it, and if i can even make one person feel that same way, it was worth it.
thank you for reading my silly little stories.
#ask answered#i do have more ford stuff otw i promise#i have a full fic and some asks coming i just need to get my ass in gear and finish
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implied nsfw under the cut
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serenity
luis serra x reader
words: 737
angst/no comfort
one day ill proofread before i post but we die like men round these parts
“I'll be okay, I promise”
When you were younger, you used to imagine finding “the one”. Maybe you'd meet in a library, or a coffee shop, or a class. You'd grow more and more fond of each other, maybe they'd ask you on a date. It would go well, they'd understand you, more than anyone else had ever dreamed of. Maybe you'd get another date, and another. They would know every quirk of yours and embrace them all, as would you to them. You would be given the privilege to have their early mornings, late nights, and everything in between. You'd watch their hair gray, smile lines and crow's feet develop as the years pass, your love maturing with your bodies, finding something new to love every day. Inevitably your mortality would catch up to you both, but your souls would be forever intertwined and your love would never cease to exist.
You knew Luis was “the one”. His cheesy flirting had initially put you off, seeming like another playboy only looking for something to entertain himself with, but he had slipped up, and you got to see the real Luis Serra. The one he hid from the world to protect himself, the kind and gentle, the good and just man he always was underneath. And you were gone. You could've never imagined how short the glimpse at your childhood dreams would be.
He was everything you had wanted. He was sweet, and had a knack for making you laugh. He was incredibly intelligent, and always pushed you to be everything he knew you were. You didn't know you could feel as loved as you did with him. He never let you forget it.
You couldn't pinpoint the moment you knew something was wrong. It was a build up, something dangerous sailing over the horizon, but too far to make it out. Until it wasn't. He was panicky, always looking over his shoulder, waiting for the other shoe to drop. The fear turned him into an entirely different person, and he brushed off all attempts to pry more information out of him. It terrified you. After months of erratic scrambling to cover his tracks, the fear had gotten to you. You threatened to leave, and he broke.
He had gotten in too deep. The horrors of what he had been contributing to were far too serious to let go. He had to get out. If the parasite didn't kill him, someone would. You didn't trust his contact as far as you could throw her, but you had no way to protect him. She had offered the two of you an out, and if you delivered, you could get out of here, away from everything you had done. Deliver the sample, and you were home free.
It was never supposed to be this difficult. You wanted to be furious with that damn agent, but you couldn't. You knew it was in Luis’ nature to help if he could. It was something you loved about him; it was also something that scared you about him. Saddler knew, there was no doubt in your mind. You needed to get the hell away from here before he could kill you both, and your time was running out. But, Luis refused to leave without helping, at least trying to right some of his wrongs.
“I need you to trust me, I'll be back before you can miss me. And we can get out of here.” His thumb grazes your cheekbone, and he soothingly pets the stray hairs away from your face. His eyes burn into yours, desperation filling his warm brown eyes. His message is clear. I need to do this. I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I leave.
He closes the gap between you, hands still holding your face, freezing you to the spot. He tries to tell you everything he can't get out with this one gesture. That this is not goodbye. This is just a “see you later.”
You trust him. You believe his words. He will be okay.You will wake up tomorrow and he will be waiting for you like he always is, but safe. Away from the danger of the village and the clutches of Saddler. You will get your decades of love. You will get your lifetime with him. Just let him finish this. He will be okay.
How wrong you were.
#luis serra#resident evil 4#luis serra x reader#angst#like i write anything else lol#its missing luis hours#luis sera#luis sera x reader#my writing
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