#WISHLIST : WISHING ONLY WOUNDS THE HEART . | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

yandere-sins · 2 years

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On the other hand, to round out my previous post, here are things that I think all my yandere do that can be sexualized, but they don’t do it in a sexual way (5 out of 10 times) more in a romantic, domestic way.

Gifting things. Especially in pre-kidnapping scenarios, the yandere may go out of their way to give their darling things they love. And I am not just thinking about the hearts of their enemies; I also mean emotionally valuable items. Even more so when the yandere actually managed to befriend their darling, and they tell them about how they lost their favorite stuffed animal while they were young, a yandere may go out of their way to do in-depth research and pay collectors just to get an exact replica. It doesn’t even need to be expensive things. Still, I can also see yandere take odd jobs to provide gifts for their beloved darling, just like a fan of a musician or so, buying out their darling’s amazon wishlist. However, if they aren’t close or the darling doesn’t even know about the adorable stalker listening to all their conversations with their friends to find out what they like, it might still be a refreshing (even if a little creepy) surprise to come home and find a box with a new bracelet on their bed from a “secret admirer”. Yans love seeing their darling use the things they bought for them, let’s be honest. Even after kidnapping, that is still a thing, of course.

Using the bathroom together. I admit, a bathtub is very tempting to be used for other things, but also: The yan picking their darling up from their room after coming home from work and putting them in the shower while the yan too gets ready for bed. Sometimes they shower together, sometimes the yandere is next to them, shaving (beard/legs/etc.) or doing skin care while the darling gets their refreshing shower. The yan making sure the bathwater is right for their beloved before sitting down with them in the bathtub, nuzzling their face in the nape of their darling’s neck, sighing and venting about something bad that happened today while the smell of herbs and roses fills the room. Already prepared toothbrushes, so the darling just has to brush their teeth, the yan helping them floss, shave, or brush their hair. They put on face masks on their darling, telling them how lovely they look now that they have them close to themselves. Applying body lotion, drying their hair, or helping them dry off their body if the darling is injured. Little kisses dotted on their face, fingers caught in the darling’s wet hair. What a life, sigh.

Dressing wounds! Clearly, an excellent way to punish the darling more than they’ve been through to receive the injuries, but man. Just the yandere having calmed down, silence in the air except for the few sobs and hiccups from the darling while the yandere applies ointment and bandages. The cupping the darling’s cheek and pulling them closer to kiss their tears away, murmuring it’s okay now as the yan lets them sob in their shoulder. Cleaning them up afterward, so they don’t stain the fresh clothes the yandere prepared for them and feeding them their favorite food that the yandere ordered while getting the first aid kit. Tugging them in, elevating the limbs in pain with more pillows, the yan sits by their side until they fall asleep, the yan only climbing into the bed if they are sure the darling won’t get more hurt when they sleep next to each other. Sometimes they hold their darling’s hand. Other times they bring them a sentimental item from the past to hold on to and calm down. The subtle guilt feeling is not enough to keep the yandere away, but at least there’s peace until the following day.

Dreaming about the outside. Not just the darling wishes they could leave and enjoy the light of day or the fun of the night. No, the yandere also wishes they could take their darling places. Perhaps on vacation, eating ice cream and enjoying wonderous dinners of different countries’ delicacies. Laying in a sea of flowers, drinking sparkling wine and feeding each other grapes before resting next to each other in silence, sharing tender touches and burning the image of their darling so content, happy, in their brain. Go to a club together, take dancing lessons, ice-skating, visit family, adopt a dog, marry. There is so much that can be done outside their apartment, far away from the safety that both of them have come to know. And yet, those are all just silly dreams compared to what the yandere truly wants—their darling’s love. Maybe they can take them outside once they are more comfortable around their captor. Once they feel more connected to the yan, be more obedient. Maybe... maybe one day. Until then, the dreams have to be enough.

#yandere #yandere imagines #yandere headcanons #yandere scenarios #yandere fanfiction #yandere writing #yandere stories #yandere oneshots #yandere oneshot #yandere drabble #yandere x reader #yandere x darling #Yandere TW #yandere talk

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girlhunts · 3 years

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tag drop .

#OOC : SPINNIN’ LIKE A GIRL IN A BRAND NEW DRESS .#PROMPTS : CAUSE YOU KNOW I LOVE THE PLAYERS .#WISHLIST : WISHING ONLY WOUNDS THE HEART .#SAVED : BECAUSE IT’S AMAZING .#PROMOS : I HAD THE TIME OF MY LIFE FIGHTING DRAGONS WITH YOU .#SELF P : IT’S A GREAT DAY TO BE TRASH .#EDITS : I MAKE MEDIOCRE THINGS IN PS .#tag drop.

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magizoologst · 3 years

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tag drop .

#IMG : THE GUY WITH THE CASE FULL OF CREATURES .#AES : I WILL STAY GENTLE NO MATTER WHAT I ENDURE .#INTRO : I’M MORE OF A CHASER REALLY .#MANNER : BECAUSE.. I LIKE TO TRAVEL INTERNATIONALLY .#POETRY : YOU NEVER MET A MONSTER YOU COULDN’T LOVE .#META : WORRYING MEANS YOU SUFFER TWICE .#IC : IS THE THING RIGHT IN ITSELF .#OOC : HUFFLEPUFFS ARE PARTICULARLY GOOD FINDERS .#PROMPTS : CAUSE YOU KNOW I LOVE THE PLAYERS .#WISHLIST : WISHING ONLY WOUNDS THE HEART .#SAVED : BECAUSE IT’S AMAZING .#PROMOS : I HAD THE TIME OF MY LIFE FIGHTING DRAGONS WITH YOU .#SELF P : IT’S A GREAT DAY TO BE TRASH .#EDITS : I MAKE MEDIOCRE THINGS IN PS .#tag drop.

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mischiefes · 3 years

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tag drop .

#OOC : SPINNIN’ LIKE A GIRL IN A BRAND NEW DRESS .#PROMPTS : CAUSE YOU KNOW I LOVE THE PLAYERS .#WISHLIST : WISHING ONLY WOUNDS THE HEART .#SAVED : BECAUSE IT’S AMAZING .#PROMOS : I HAD THE TIME OF MY LIFE FIGHTING DRAGONS WITH YOU .#SELF P : I’M TRASH BUT LIKE NICE TRASH .#EDITS : I MAKE MEDIOCRE THINGS IN PS .#tag drop.

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westcrn · 4 years

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tag dump.

#* ❛ pay no attention to the woman behind the curtain ❜ ⟶ OOC.#* ❛ well? are you coming? ❜ ⟶ STARTER CALL.#* ❛ wishing only wounds the heart ❜ ⟶ WISHLIST.#* ❛ then you’re going to have to learn ❜ ⟶ HEADCANON.#* ❛ bright? she’s phosphorescent ❜ ⟶ STUDY.#* ❛ a vision almost like a prophecy ❜ ⟶ AESTHETIC.#* ❛ or do they have wickedness thrust upon them? ❜ ⟶ MEME.#* ❛ take a message back from me ❜ ⟶ PSA.#* ❛ you’ll be with me like a handprint on my heart ❜ ⟶ KEEP.#* ❛ there’ll be a celebration throughout oz ❜ ⟶ SELF PROMO.#* ❛ pink goes good with green ❜ ⟶ PROMO.#* ❛ and there we’ll finally be ❜ ⟶ QUEUE.#* ❛ what is this? ❜ ⟶ META.#* ❛ alright why not i’ll reply! ❜ ⟶ ANSWERED.#* ❛ everything is green this is my best life ❜ ⟶ CRACK.#* ❛ maybe some of us are different ❜ ⟶ ELPHABA THROPP.#* ❛ i have done everything i could for you ❜ ⟶ NESSAROSE THROPP.#* ❛ my father hates me ❜ ⟶ FREXPAR THROPP.#* ❛ she never woke up ❜ ⟶ MELENA THROPP.#* ❛ you’re the only friend i’ve ever had ❜ ⟶ GLINDA UPLAND.#* ❛ it’s looking at things another way ❜ ⟶ FIYERO TIGGULAR.#* ❛ just a mere munchkin ❜ ⟶ BOQ.#* ❛ something bad is happening in oz ❜ ⟶ DOCTOR DILLAMOND.#* ❛ this distortion this repulsion this wicked witch ❜ ⟶ MADAME MORRIBLE.#* ❛ no one believe in you more than i did ❜ ⟶ THE WIZARD OF OZ.#* ❛ i didn’t mean to frighten him ❜ ⟶ THE LION.#* ❛ she was a child of both worlds ❜ ⟶ VERSE.#* ❛ hallowed halls and vine-draped walls ❜ ⟶ VERSE.#* ❛ your life could end up changing ❜ ⟶ VERSE.#* ❛ everyone deserves the chance to fly ❜ ⟶ VERSE.

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vidova · 2 years

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tag drop part i .

#OOC : YELENA SIMP FIRST .#PROMPTS : CAUSE YOU KNOW I LOVE THE PLAYERS .#WISHLIST : WISHING ONLY WOUNDS THE HEART .#SAVED : BECAUSE IT’S AMAZING .#PROMOS : I HAD THE TIME OF MY LIFE FIGHTING DRAGONS WITH YOU .#SELF P : I’M TRASH BUT LIKE NICE TRASH .#EDITS : I MAKE MEDIOCRE THINGS IN PS .#IMG : PALE LITTLE SPIDER .#AES : A GIRL IS A GUN .#INTRO : I WANT A RAISE .#MANNER : THIS WOULD BE A COOL WAY TO DIE .#POETRY : I NEVER HAD CONTROL OVER MY OWN LIFE BEFORE .#META : THE BEST PART OF MY LIFE WAS FAKE .#IC : THAT SOUNDS LIKE A SHITLOAD OF WORK .#tag drop.

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griefstoic · 6 years

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shaun tags.

#─── ☆ his sharp edges somehow only make him softer / visual.❞#─── ☆ underestimate me so i can embarrass you / apropos.❞#─── ☆ art offers a certain breathing room for the spirit / aesthetics.❞#─── ☆ black jeans﹐ crop tops and chipped nail polish / wardrobe.❞#─── ☆ the body is a bundle of careful compromises / physique.❞#─── ☆ i’m fearless now but it’s cost my soul / habits.❞#─── ☆ to want someone is a very dangerous thing / bait.❞#─── ☆ push me up against the wall and tell me you want me / desires.❞#─── ☆ redwood tries and a fresh mountain breeze / rio dell.❞#─── ☆ a look inside the fearless mind / meta.❞#─── ☆ comfortable silence is so overrated / radio.❞#─── ☆ wishing only wounds the heart / wishlist.❞#─── ☆ come join the murder / starter call / mutuals only.❞#─── ☆ all this talking kind of wears me out / writings.❞#─── ☆ an open ended story is the best kind / open starter / mutuals only.❞#─── ☆ stories just between you and me / closed starter.❞#─── ☆ these voices won’t leave me alone / answered asks.❞#tags.

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slayir · 3 years

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tag drop .

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vidow · 3 years

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tag drop .

#OOC : SPINNIN’ LIKE A GIRL IN A BRAND NEW DRESS .#PROMPTS : CAUSE YOU KNOW I LOVE THE PLAYERS .#WISHLIST : WISHING ONLY WOUNDS THE HEART .#SAVED : BECAUSE IT’S AMAZING .#PROMOS : I HAD THE TIME OF MY LIFE FIGHTING DRAGONS WITH YOU .#SELF P : I’M TRASH BUT LIKE NICE TRASH .#EDITS : I MAKE MEDIOCRE THINGS IN PS .#tag drop.

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dragonsmother-a · 7 years

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ooc tags uvu

#* vi. ooc posts ━━ does dany know i’d die for her / i’m asking for a friend .#* vi. wishlist ━━ wishing only wounds the heart .#* vi. prompts ━━ where are my dragons ?#* vi. psa ━━ they can live in my new world or die in their old one .#* vi. about ally ━━ too gay / too short for this shit .#* vi. self p ━━ i’m like tinkerbell / i need reblogs to live .#* vi. promos ━━ a talented bunch of coconuts .#* vi. saved ━━ because it’s amazing .#* vi. appreciation ━━ thank you for making me feel special .

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inikavulpixelreviews · 5 years

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Let’s Talk About Pokemon - The Bug Type

Oh boy, it is indeed TIME for the finale of all these type reviews. Covering my absolute favorite type of them all: Bug!

I had always had a loving fascination with insects and arthropods since I was a young child. I'd not be shy to let them crawl on me so long as they weren't outright menacing like a particularly dangerous spider or some variety of ant with some mean chompers. I was THAT KID that caught caterpillars, fed them until they became butterflies, and then let them go. The kid that tried (and sadly failed) to keep an ant farm. I only kill bugs in my house that are being particularly invasive (and even then I always feel awful doing it); the rest I just escort outside. I don't care what any “whoa kill it with FIRE!!!!” kinda commenter says, spiders are pretty much welcome to stay in my room.

How sad is it that as I see it, one of the perks of having an outdoors day-job is I regularly get to make friends with insects?

Point is, bugs are good. They're good for the environment, and important to Pokemon's history itself. The man credited with creating Pokemon, Satoshi Tajiri, cited the major inspiration for Pokemon being his childhood memories of collecting bugs. OF COURSE bug would get its own dedicated element in this sort of RPG! As well as being one of the more populated types in the series.

It's just sad that it's not exactly THE most meta type out there. It's weak to a lot of types that are bad to be weak to like Fire, Rock, and Flying, but don't have much in the way of resistances or type advantages. The one real perk they have resistance-wise is blocking Fighting. They're at least good against some types that are handy to have a counter to. Either way, I pretty much CAN'T go a whole playthrough without picking up a bug buddy. It's impossible.

It also comes to light to me that, when you look over the whole roster of buggies like this, it turns out not one Bug is really designed to be “gross” or unappealing outright. I mean, I guess shed cicada skin can be uncomfortably crusty to the touch, but other than that, hmm. Nah, the closest we get is “arthropod menace” and that's about it. How do was have a COCKROACH Pokemon in the series at this point and the type is more or less squeaky clean as ever?! I guess I kinda do appreciate that Gamefreak rather legitimately celebrates insects as some really neat and fascinating creatures. Bugs aren't gross, they're cool! Bugs aren't nasty, they're neat! It's heartwarming to know a series as big as Pokemon sees insects and arthropods in more or less the same light as I do. Heck, I'm sure you could credit the series to warming up PLENTY of other people to be less squeamish toward bugs. Or at the very least think twice before they go squashing one that's minding its own business.

...That said, I wouldn't say no to them making more gross-looking bugs.

Top 10 Favorite Bug Types:

HNNNGH. This is too difficult. I can't. I gotta highlight more.

The Other Top Favorites:

There. My heart is a little more at peace now.

The Bottom 10 Least Favorite Bug Types:

Okay Fine

The 10 Bug Types I Wish Were A Little Bit Better:

Because the only Bugs in the whole type that just outright aren't my jam are Volbeat and Illumise, and that's it. The rest have just a little tidbit or two that I'd change or do a slight redesigning outright to get em to be up to par with other Bugs. Additional mention to Mega Heracross just because I'd almost rather Mega Heracross was its own, unique Pokemon instead of an alternate form of Heracross.

The Cutest:

Gen 5 is so good with adorable Bugs oh my goodness.

The Coolest:

The Prettiest:

The Spookiest:

...See what I mean? There is a CRIMINAL lack of spooky bugs in the Bug type!

Weirdest/Most Unique:

Shuckle is still a mystery.

Most Inventive Use of the Type:

How many times have I gushed about Shedinja's design throughout this whole review series? It's hard to make “the fact that it's a Bug” a real inventive thing by itself since it's a rather matter-of fact state of being for monsters like this. But these bunch in particular REALLY take advantage of their bughood and really show the designers at Gamefreak did their homework or just in general had some really neat ideas. Araquanid being a reverse of a real-life diving bell spider, a mosquito that sucks blood to increase its FLEXING capabilities, a cockroach that is a self-grooming neat freak just like real cockroaches are. Escavalier and Accelgor lumped together because of their specific interaction reflecting a real-life interaction between a beetle and its snail prey; albeit the ending is a little bit happier for this snail than in real life. Kricketune is a sadly unsung little stroke of minor genius in how a violin beetle gets to actually BE a violinist that plays its own violin body. Kricketune's just overshadowed by its own memey cry, sadly.

The Buggiest of them All:

I'm always perfectly fine with stylized body types when it comes to bugs, but I can also take a moment to appreciate the Bug types that are convincingly insectoid. Plus y’know. It helps when the odd bug type has the correct number of legs.

BUG TYPE WISH LIST:

NOTE: These Type Wishlists were written out before any news on new Pokemon from Sword and Shield. The Pokemon revealed over time will not affect these wishlists. Just to present them unaltered despite spoilers and in the interest of getting the wishlist out there, and to see which items on said wishlists get fulfilled by Sword and Shield!

[Inhale]

A Grasshopper/Cricket:

Despite their english names, Kricketot and Kricketune aren't actually crickets, but are actually moreso designed after beetles. So we've still yet to have any true orthoptera species of insect in Pokemon yet!! And that is a CRIME because Grasshoppers and Crickets are criminally underrated just because they're fairly common insects. God I could comprise of list of just some neat orthoptera I like. You could even kill two birds with one stone here by having an inter-species evolutionary line where a cricket evolves into a grasshopper!

Termites:

I'm still bummed Durant's evolutionary path is painfully underwhelming compared to actual ants. Where's like, the Queens?! And big-headed Majors?!? Either an expansion of Durant's current forms or a new set of Termite-mons would be really nice!

A Fly:

How weird is it that we've still yet to get a common house fly?! We technically have Cutiefly, but I'd love to see a more traditional-looking house fly. Or any other number of fly species if you're feeling adventurous!

A More Traditional Mosquito:

Buzzwole is absolute gold and I don't at all mind it, but I'm still feeling a bit of an itch (hah) for a more traditional looking mosquito. My first shot at making a mosquito monster in the form of my own Fakemon was incorporating the aquatic larval form as a scuba-diver that eventually evolves into a water-drinking and squirting big mosquito. MAINLY because I didn't think Gamefreak would ever even slightly elude to blood if they ever made a mosquitomon, yet here we are.

A Wheel Bug/Assassin Bug in general:

I just point out Wheel Bugs because they're easily my favorite kind of assassin bug, distinguished by the big gear-shaped hump on their back. But I'd love any assassin bug, really. Just look at their goofy faces.

A Giraffe Weevil:

I'm sure tons of people have seen pictures of this thing around the internet. And if you still haven't there it is. You will lay your eyes on this stupid thing and you will immediately understand why we needed a Giraffe Weevil Pokemon like, four generations ago.

A Bombardier Beetle:

While it may not look like much of the surface, this beetle is packing a venomous spray that it ejects from its abdomen to ward off predators! We could always use more Bug/Fire types, so why not pick this thing up and a flame-spewing or actual-bomb-chucking beetle!

A Dragonhead Caterpillar:

There is an irritating lack of insectoid dragons in the Pokedex that are actually classified as insects. You passed up DRAGONflies multiple times, guys! So fine, I guess I gotta pull out a more obscure wish; one of these bad boys! The Dragonhead Caterpillar is easily one of the sickest looking caterpillars out there, and totally befitting a Bug/Dragon type as is! The one sad thing about this is, like the antlions, it's another case where something's larval stage is a lot more neat looking than its adult form; for A Dragonhead Caterpillar would eventually become one of these:

...Yeah, while the Plain Nawab is pretty, its significantly less impressive looking than its caterpillar form, huh? Still no reason you couldn't just elect to give us a draconian butterfly while you're also at it! I guess I wouldn't be TOO upset even if an official Pokemon version of this bug wound up with a more fun base stage than its final stage.

Any Wooly Caterpillar:

I don't care which one you pick, a big ol fuzzy caterpillar is something CRIMINALLY missing from Pokemon at the moment!!

A Devil's Flower Mantis:

Mantids are some of the micro-world's coolest monsters. It's a shame then that the three mantid monsters in Pokemon so far are 1. A lizard with some mantis parts on, 2. More of a lobster, and 3. Not actually a mantis. And that sadly the latter means orchid mantids are out. While I'd be overjoyed to see any new mantis Pokemon, I think a Devil's Flower Mantis would be my personal go-to for a new mantis. It's just so god dang WICKED looking!

This Mind-Controlled Snail:

Because this thing has to be demonstrated in gif form to really portray the oddity of what's going on here. Although, the description is on the gross side, so here's a fair warning to skip past if you're squeamish.

This particular species of parasitic flatworm preys on snails. When they're eaten up by these unsuspecting mollusks, they'll soon find themselves getting their brain taken over by the pulsating worms that wriggle inside the snail's now-bloated eyestalks precisely to make the snail more enticing to birds to eat. Not only that, but the parasite also hijacks the snail's brain. Snails normally prefer damp and dark areas where they're relatively well-hidden away from any predators. These parasites force the snail into bright and wide-open areas like the tops of bushes specifically to make it as easy a meal as possible. They multiply in the bird's stomach before beginning the cycle anew when the bird, ahem, “drops” them off.

Obviously there's a lot of parallels to draw here from this and Parasect. But heck to it if I'd say no to a new, freaky mind-controlled hypno-snail. It'd be such a cool effect on an ingame model to see their eyes pulsating in color. You could even go ahead and make it a candidate for our first Bug/Psychic type!

A Stick Bug:

It's not super pressing that one gets in. I just think stick bugs are neat.

A Black Widow:

I know we got Ariados, but something feels missing from the spider roster in that we don't have a traditional creepy crawly-type spider. A Black Widow is about the most stereotypically creepy spider out there, but I'd love to see it for its potential either way.

A Peacock Spider:

One more spider while we're on the subject of spiders. And offset a spooky spider with a cute one! There's all sorts of fun takes to have on a peacock spiders.

A Pelican Spider:

No hold up. Wait a second. One more spider because I had literally discovered this thing as I was writing this very list. Look at this thing. Look at this spider. What the hell. What the actual hell. What is happening. What. I want one now.

APPARENTLY this Pelican Spider is a species of spider that specifically evolved to eat other spiders. Its weirdly long “neck” and extended mandibles are designed to keep its prey at a long length away from itself so they the spiders it catches can't retaliate with their own bites. That's so neat. I could see how you can intemperate that into a gameplay sense; make it specialize in biting moves and have an ability that makes all biting moves no longer make contact. Maybe that's not HUGE but.

A Dobsonfly:

Again, no pressing reason I can think of other than dobsonfly are underrated, and getting a nice Pokemon to go with em would be cool.

Gah, there's probably a good billion or so I could continue to think up but I SUPPOSE it's gotta stop at some point.

“How on Earth did we wind up with some internet person talking about insects for about half an hour's worth of reading?”

ANYWAY, that's the final of the type reviews. Sword and Shield are just two weeks away, believe it or not. It’ll be a while before I’m back into the funk of making reviews. As I’ve said before, I’d like to take a month or two to really absorb all the new Pokemon they have on offer. For a brief little preview-opinion, the new Pokemon are overall pretty dang good so far. There’s already a couple I’ll be excited to talk about, but if preview event-goers are to be believed, there's’ apparently a TON of new Pokemon to look forward to.

ANYWAY Future-talk:

I dunno if I’ll do something in the meantime review-wise. I would go back to look at the recently discovered Beta Pokemon from Red and Green and Gold and Silver, but I feel like I’ve not got a ton to add to that conversation in particular. (Literally the only hot take I can really come up with is the Baby Vulpix is kinda lame)

I MIGHT look into doing character design reviews for some non-Pokemon properties. I felt like it was eventually gonna happen at some point, I’m just not sure about it happening YET given SwSh are so close and once I’m ready for those reviews I’d have to put the non-Pokemon project on hold. Tell me what sorta series y’all would like to hear my thoughts on for character design. My personal biggest candidates are looking at the creatures from the Pikmin series, the various boss characters from all the various Mega Man games, and looking over the Champions from League of Legends, as well as reviewing the monster cards of Yu-Gi-Oh.

Mega Man would probably be the easiest. Robot Masters don’t exactly require deep analysis to critique their designs. (Though that wouldn’t stop me from getting rambly.) It wouldn’t be until the X, Zero, ZX, and Battle Network/Starforce series that the designs get crazy detailed.

YGO and Pikmin would be easy too, the only issue would be figuring out a format for what order to do them in.

League would easily be the hardest to do. Cause being the completionist that I am, I would want to cover EVERYTHING. Old versions of the characters, NEW versions, as well as every single skin. The problem is figuring out an order to put it all in. The easiest would just to do iit in alphabetical order and cover the skins of each champ as we come across them. But I’d ideally like to do everything in chronological order. Start with the first 40 champions and then pan out to cover each one in order of release, skins included. It’s just really difficult to find a consistent timeline on League content, especially for skins. I dunno. That’d be something I’d have to look into.

Either way, no matter what I end up going with, I’ll see you next time!

[Archive]

#Pokemon #bug type #The Bug Type #Pokemon Reviews

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stereksecretsanta · 5 years

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Merry Christmas, @theydraggedmein!

I hope you enjoy this little fluffy piece that I wrote for you. I didn't manage to tick all the boxes on your wishlist, but some of them at least.

I wish you an amazing holiday with lots of love and warmth!

Read on AO3

*****

vivaldi

Chapter 1

Stiles returns to Beacon Hills a mild afternoon in April, with absolutely zero warning. Derek only finds out when he hears the unmistakable, clunky noise of the Jeep’s engine making its way up the driveway. The Jeep has been safely tucked away in the Stilinskis’ garage during the four years Stiles has been with the FBI, but Derek would recognize it anywhere.

He steps out on the porch right when the Jeep turns around the bend and becomes visible through the thick branches, just when Stiles’ slightly elevated heartbeat becomes audible. Derek is pretty sure that he would recognize that anywhere as well.

The car slides to a stop, the driver’s side door is kicked open and Stiles spills out of it, arms raised.

“Surprise!” He exclaims, loud and cheerful in a stark contrast to the otherwise serene and quiet woods bracketing the rebuilt Hale house.

Derek’s eyebrows shoot up his forehead, arms crossed over his chest. Undeterred, Stiles slams the door to the Jeep shut and bounds up the steps.

“I can’t believe you finished it, it looks great!” He says, eyes flickering over the white panels and sturdy wooden beams. “The pics don’t really do it justice.”

He’s older. No longer a teenager. His eyes aren’t as tired as before, like when he left. Derek recognizes the journey he made himself when leaving Beacon Hills in the joyous twist of Stiles’ lips. He’s been healing.

Stiles is grinning when he slaps a hand down on Derek’s shoulder and then promptly invites himself inside. Derek is momentarily frozen in place, unaccustomed to Stiles’ whirlwind energy after so much time spent apart. Stiles, however, does not pause. By the time Derek gets moving, Stiles is already collapsed on the couch, reverently stroking the fabric of the decorative velvet pillows while waxing poetic of their plushyness.

Derek clears his throat and there’s a lot he’d like to say, a lot he’d like to ask, but only one thing that comes out.

“How long are you staying?”

Stiles looks up and his features softens knowingly.

“Forever, dude. I’m here for good.”

Derek’s heart swells.

Chapter 2

If anyone had told Derek that he would meet his untimely demise by a leprechaun attack, he would’ve snorted in disbelieving derision. Witches? Sure, seems legit. Pixies? They do have very sharp teeth, so he wouldn’t rule them out. Leprechauns? Not a chance. Just no. Which is why he’s equal parts baffled and frustrated while he’s being dragged across the forest floor by no less than five, knee-high leprechauns, bleeding profusely from a head injury after they had tossed that big rock at his face.

He would get up, has tried to many times, but as soon as he lifts his head off the ground his vision swims and his stomach twists into nauseous knots. Their small, grubby hands are clasped tight enough around his arms and legs that he can feel the skin bruise and try to heal itself over and over again. He’s not sure why his head isn’t attempting to do the same. Or maybe it is, but the wound is too severe. He might never find out, considering how the leprechauns are currently chattering about how best to cook him.

Derek supposes that this will be his legacy. The wolf eaten by leprechauns. Just his luck.

There are drums in the distance. He had not heard them earlier, due to the pounding in his head, but there’s definitely drums and they’re drawing nearer, judging by how the sound gets louder and louder by the minute.

Derek closes his eyes, shuts out the tree tops gently swaying up above and tries to ignore how twigs and dirt prick at his skin while he gets dragged over the ground. He’s feeling cold, despite it being one of the hottest days this year.

He thinks of Cora. He thinks of Isaac, of Scott, of Liam and Mason. He thinks of Chris Argent of all people. Mrs McCall and the Sheriff. Lydia. Malia.

Most of all he thinks of Stiles. Of Stiles and his pitter patter heartbeat and of what he wouldn’t do to hear it one more time. The way it always seems to pound a little bit faster than anything or anyone around him, almost always betraying his every thought. Honest, even when the words leaving his lips aren’t.

If he really concentrates, digs deep into his mind, he can almost hear it over the ache in his head and the drums, so loud now that they nearly overpower all of his senses. But Stiles’ heartbeat is there, in the back of his head, soothing him.

Derek opens his eyes and squints up at the bright, blue sky. They’ve stopped and the leprechauns have released his arms and legs. They’re in a clearing and when he hazards lifting his heavy head off the ground, he finds himself surrounded by what must be at least twenty leprechauns. Half of them are banging on the drums in an ominous rhythm.

But Stiles’ heartbeat is still there, faster and louder than anything else. It’s a comfort. One of the leprechauns, who wears a headgear resembling a crown of thorns and leaves, raises a blade towards the sky with two outstretched hands and Derek has the time to think that this truly is it. He’s too weak to get up, too weak to fight or even attempt to flee. He’s really going to be the wolf eaten by leprechauns.

He closes his eyes and lets out a shuddering breath, searching for that familiar thump thump to accompany him. Only this time, the heartbeat has picked up pace. It’s almost dangerously fast and Derek frowns when another noise breaks through the deafening sound of the drums. It takes him a second to identify them as rapidly approaching footsteps.

He tries to stave off the hope which flares in his chest, but that’s right when Stiles charges into the clearing with a hoarse war cry which Derek can’t wait to tease him about once they get out of this situation.

The leprechauns clearly haven’t expected Stiles, because they scatter in panic around his feet. The drums are dropped and the crowned leprechaun turns just in time to see Stiles raise a sword, and where the fuck did he get that from, over his head and slices it in two.

The crown drops from the leprechaun’s head and everything in the clearing stills. Nineteen pair of beady wide eyes turn to watch Stiles, who’s breathing hard with the sword still held high. He looks as wide-eyed as the rest.

“I’m the king now, leprebitches.”

Derek would roll his eyes if he didn’t think that it would actually finish him off.

What follows is chaos. The leprechauns swarm Stiles and Derek is too weak to do anything about it. All he can do is listen to the cacophony of screams, Stiles’ steady stream of curses and the violent noise of steel meeting flesh. He’s so tired, so incredibly tired, but as long as he hears Stiles’ heartbeat, he feels hope.

“Derek? Derek!”

Derek opens his eyes, which he doesn’t remember closing. Stiles is kneeling by his side, face flushed and chest heaving with exertion. His forehead is sweaty and his deputy uniform is covered in garish green leprechaun blood. There’s a cut across his cheek, but it’s the only injury Derek can see. The clearing is a leprechaun massacre.

“There you are, big guy,” Stiles says, a tremulous smile on his lips and he sags with relief, but his worried hands keep hovering over Derek’s body. “The others are on their way. What did they do to you?”

“My head,” Derek murmurs, lifting a weak arm off the ground to gesture towards it.

Stiles leans forward and cups his cheek, eyes scanning Derek’s head. Blood drains from his face at the sight of it, which probably isn’t a good sign.

“Jesus fucking christ, that’s a big hole.”

Derek lets his head loll into Stiles’ gentle hand. It’s warm against his clammy cheek.

“It wasn’t healing,” he says.

“And it is now?” Stiles sounds doubtful, but Derek can feel it now, can feel the warmth spreading from Stiles’ palm. Soon he’ll feel the heat of the July sun again, soon the pounding in his head will stop.

“Mm.”

“I’ll believe that when I see it. Now, where the fuck are they…?”

Stiles makes a move as if he’s going to get to his feet and look around, but Derek clasps his wrist with energy he doesn’t really have to keep Stiles close.

“Don’t.”

The look Stiles gives him is one he can’t interpret. It’s calculating, wistful and soft all at once. Derek doesn’t know what it means, but at least Stiles has stopped moving.

“Alright,” he agrees and settles fully against Derek’s side. “But they better hurry.”

Stiles is a bundle of nerves, of anxiety and worry, his gaze flickering through the trees. Derek finds himself soothing his thumb over the pulsepoint in his wrist.

“Who gave you a sword anyway?” Derek asks.

The corner of Stiles’ mouth twitches.

“Craigslist.”

Chapter 3

They’ve been working in the garden all day, outside in the crisp October air. The sun has been bathing them in light from a clear blue sky, which made the chilly breeze almost unnoticeable, but brought a blooming red shade to Stiles’ cheeks and the tip of his nose. He should’ve worn a jacket, or at least the woollen hat Lydia had gotten him for Christmas last year. Derek thinks it’s cute on him, the way his hair sticks out beneath it, but he’s never told him as much.

Leaf piles, evidence of the day’s work, are scattered neatly across the lawn. Stiles asked him more than once if Derek didn’t want to change into his other skin and play among the yellows and browns. He only cackled when Derek growled in retaliation.

By the time the sun starts to set, Stiles is ready to call it quits and Derek isn’t very far behind.

“Come oooon!” Stiles moans pathetically while attempting to drag Derek by the arm up the stairs of the back porch. “You promised me a hot beverage if I helped you out and I have received exactly ZERO hot beverages!”

Derek could stand firm a little while longer, just to tease him, but can’t help giving in to Stiles’ attempt of puppy eyes. It’s not even that cute.

“Alright, alright, stop whining.”

They make their way inside and toe off their dirty shoes by the backdoor as to not muddy up the floors. The kitchen is just around the corner, the windows opening up towards the garden. Stiles, after having washed his hands in the kitchen sink, hop up onto the counter and looks at Derek with poorly hidden excitement.

It’s a good look on him. Derek ducks his head into the pantry, worried that his affection might be written across his face.

“What are you going to make?” Stiles asks.

“I distinctly remember someone demanding pumpkin spice lattes, or he wouldn’t have showed up,” Derek replies and levels Stiles with an unimpressed stare once he’s gathered the spices (and his stupid emotions) from the cupboard.

Stiles crows victoriously and proceeds to fill the kitchen with chatter while Derek prepares their drinks. He speaks of his last shift at the station, of the grimoire he recently got his hands on, of a YouTube video on how to best sharpen your sword and the ugly-enough-to-be-cute, three-legged pug he had seen when he visited Scott at the vet clinic the other day. The words wash soothingly over Derek and he hums and awes at all of the appropriate times, successfully keeping Stiles going up until the point where he hands Stiles is mug. It’s Stiles’ favorite mug, the one with Yoda on it.

Stiles’ fingers brush across Derek’s when taking the mug.

“Thanks, Derek,” he says, giving him a grateful smile.

“You’re welcome,” Derek replies and takes a sip from his own mug.

Not for the first time, he thinks about kissing Stiles. Not for the first time, he doesn’t. Instead he lets Stiles pick up wherever he left off, he hums and awes at all the right times, and wonders what his life would be like if he dared to ask for the things he wanted.

Chapter 4

They decide to celebrate Christmas at Derek’s house, as per Stiles’ suggestion. It makes the most sense, he had argued, considering the size of the pack and the fact that Derek’s house is far bigger than anyone else’s. Derek plays hard to get, but only for a minute or so, considering that he can’t deny the warm feeling in his chest when just thinking about the house being filled with people, food and laughter.

There’s little less than a week until Christmas Day when Derek hears the telltale noise of the Jeep’s engine coming up the driveway. Derek hasn’t done much in terms of decoration, but he’s put a wreath up on the door at least. He should’ve known that wouldn’t be enough for Stiles.

Derek puts the book he had been reading away just as Stiles stomps up the porch steps, and gets to his feet when there’s banging on the door.

“Come out, loser, we’re going Christmas tree chopping!”

Derek rolls his eyes just before opening the door. Stiles is practically bouncing with excitement, his woollen hat pushed down on his head and the biggest grin on his face.

“What?” Derek says, leaning against the door frame.

“Don’t pretend like you didn’t hear me, asshole,” Stiles replies and gives him a light shove. “You and I are going to traipse out in the forest and get ourselves a Christmas tree. I have an axe . I am ready. ”

“Who keeps giving you weapons?” Derek questions with a concerned frown, but he still reaches out to get his jacket. He shrugs it on on his way out the door.

“Excuse you, I’m an honorable officer of the law, I think I can handle an axe.”

They bicker on their way into the woods, until they’re swallowed by the stillness of the trees and Stiles becomes hyper-focused on eyeing every evergreen they come across from top to bottom. He informs Derek that he has measured the assigned Christmas tree space in the living room exactly, of how ‘thicc’ he wants the tree to be and which shade of green which would best compliment Derek’s eyes. Derek’s not sure how that’s relevant, but is weirdly flattered.

Over an hour passes before Stiles finds the one. It’s a tree they’ve walked past at least three times now, which Derek points out, but Stiles simply shushes him.

“No, this is the one,” Stiles assures him. “Can’t you see that it’s a sign that we keep coming back to it? Like, sure, some of the others might seem more shiny or prettier from afar, but this has character. It has soul.”

“It’s a tree, Stiles.”

“Don’t listen to him, baby,” Stiles coos at the tree after giving Derek the stink-eye. “You’re beautiful.”

They chop the tree down. ‘They’ here means that Stiles took one swing with the axe, feigned a strain in his shoulder and promptly handed it over to Derek. Derek of course then has to carry the damn tree all the way back to the house. He would be annoyed, but Stiles’ excited grin makes all the frustration melt away.

By the time they’re back home and Derek has propped the tree up against the wall while working up the nerve to ask Stiles inside for hot cocoa, Stiles’ phone chirps.

“Oh, I’ve got to go,” Stiles says, face twisting in an apologetic grimace. “I promised Scott we’d take care of some last minute gifts today and he just got off work.”

“That’s fine,” Derek replies neutrally.

“I’ll be back tomorrow with ornaments so we can decorate it!” Stiles promises, nudging Derek’s shoulder to lure his lips into a smile.

“Okay.”

“Okay, I’ve got to go. See you tomorrow!”

And then, just like that, Stiles leans in to kiss him. It’s just a peck given in all haste, short and sweet and barely there, but it has Derek frozen in place. Stiles makes it approximately ten steps towards the Jeep before he too comes to a halt. Slowly, slowly, he turns around to face Derek again.

“Uuuuhm. Quick q?” He says, a thoughtful finger raised into the air.

“Yes?” Derek manages to choke out.

“Did I just kiss you?”

Derek swallows, and nods.

“Yes.”

“Right,” Stiles replies and licks his lips. Can he taste Derek on him? Can he feel his lips tingling, like Derek’s do? “Soooo, how do we feel about that?”

“Not… not sure.”

“Oookay.”

Stiles looks crestfallen. Derek thinks of unmistakable heartbeats. He thinks of healing touches, vivid green blood and swords bought off of Craigslist. He thinks of daring to ask for what he wants.

“Maybe you should try again?” Derek finds himself saying, cracking his chest open for Stiles’ to see.

Stiles smiles.

#theydraggedmein #stereksanta18 #*fic18 #*gifts18

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apotheum · 5 years

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I never know when the waves of grief are going to hit me, but it’s usually deep in the night when everyone is asleep and the weight of being alone sinks in so deep my chest hurts. I have mostly graduated from painful, heaving sobs, nails digging in my skin, and face sore from contorting in a wail. I have mostly graduated from crying myself to sleep, begging my body to fall unconscious so the hurt stops for at least a few fucking hours.

It is pain. I see reminders all day, every day, and it drives the wound deeper. A pregnant coworker that I worked with. I remember thinking how strange it was that there were two additional beings, two unknown souls floating around the room with everyone earthside. What a wild concept. I get baby clothes adverts on Zulily (where I browsed just picturing the cute outfits I would dress you up in). Luckily Amazon seems to have released its tenacity on suggested baby toys and diapers since I refused to open any of the emails or quick links in the homepage.

I would be over sixteen weeks pregnant now. I should not have looked it up on a pregnancy calculator, I knew it would cause me to have a minor meltdown, but I did it anyway also hoping to hurt myself, I guess. Because I deserve to be hurt by it. At sixteen weeks baby is the size of an avocado (thaaanks). You know if it’s a boy or a girl. I still think you were a boy, but I’ll never know for certain. Maybe it’s best that way.

I miss my baby so fucking much it feels like a piece of my soul is gone with it, like my part of soul was sucked out in the operating room too and the rest is walking around bleeding, asking where the rest is so it can be put back together. It truly is a void in my heart.

I miss being pregnant for the simple fact of knowing I was pregnant. Poking my belly in the shower, pressing down until I felt my growing uterus, hard under my soft chub. Feeling the subtle shifts of my body changing. I even miss the almost-constant feeling of not-quite-nausea. Of how cooking smelled absolutely disgusting and I ate chikfila grilled nuggets almost every day. The perpetual groggy feeling, like I could never get enough sleep and nearly always required a nap after work. Just knowing I was creating you, baby. That you were forming inside my body. That’s so fucking crazy to think about. Thinking literally every waking moment about this baby inside me, how it was not quite a baby in form but a baby to me. The doctor smiled and called you a “little gummy bear”, which I thought was perfect since I love gummies.

I knew I was pregnant before I even took the test, before I was even supposed to get my period. I mean, I didn’t KNOW, but I knew. I was sitting on the floor of my living room. I don’t remember why, maybe I was cleaning something. I went to stand up and there was this great intense stretching sensation to the point of almost pain in my lower abdomen where I knew my uterus to be. It was so uncomfortable i gasped and had to lean down on my couch for support. I had never, in my 10 years of having a period, felt that sensation and I knew instinctually “what if I’m pregnant?”.

I was at Kroger buying groceries, wearing a pantiliner for a period I knew was not going to arrive, when I decided to buy a $3.99 pregnancy test because why not, it’s only $3.99. I took it as soon as I got home even though it was early and you’re supposed to wait until the morning when the potential hormone is strongest. I didn’t even have to set the timer for three minutes, because the double line immediately apparated. I felt a mild buzzing in my ears but not the dramatic scenes like on tv or cringy YouTube videos. “Well, I’m fucking pregnant.” I thought. “Holy shit, I am pregnant.”

I immediately texted my sister 911 and told her. “I’m pregnant” ran through my brain 47 times a second. It was such a weird thought. So bizarre, that I, Grace, am pregnant, there is a life growing inside of me.

Even though I never carried the pregnancy close enough to have a baby bump (besides my normal chub), I would catch myself rubbing my lower abdomen absentmindedly. When I drove, I rested my hand on my belly. when I caught myself, I usually chided myself for being silly and moved my hand, but it was such a natural motion to rest my hand over where I knew my baby was growing. My little gummy bear. (I always pictured a green gummy bear, which is strange? But always green, because I think you were a boy.)

I still am dealing with the residual effects of once being pregnant, but not anymore. The acne on my chest (seriously baby, wtf was up with that) is mostly gone. I don’t quite cry (and I’m talking big, bawling sobs) at the drop of a hat anymore although I still am very emotional. I haven’t gotten my period back, though the doctor told me it could be a few months. And, I am grieving. Real, painful, messy grief.

I am grieving the baby I was growing but not anymore. The baby I pictured - a boy with curly brown hair and blue eyes and a smile. The baby I will never meet, will never get to know. The baby whose outfits I put on my shopping wishlist. The baby that would shriek gleefully at my - our - cats roughhousing. The baby who my entire family would dote over.

I will miss that baby, my baby, forever and for the rest of my life. October 19 I fear will always be a very painful, raw day marking the due date of the baby that never made it earthside.

I can’t regret what happened. I can’t, or it will literally drive me over the edge. But it is so hard. The worst depression and overwhelming sadness I have ever felt. I have been depressed over life circumstances since the fall, but knowing I was pregnant and then not finishing the pregnancy have truly ruined my mental health and stability. I am SO fucking depressed I can’t even describe it. I thought I hit my rock bottom in 2012-2013 but that’s not even close. I don’t care about myself at all and frankly if I didn’t have guilt over leaving my cats behind I would not be here. Good thing I love animals so much, huh. I thought I would find purpose and a joy in being a mother but that couldn’t happen and I fervently wish and pray with my whole heart I will have the opportunity to in the future. All I want is my baby, or to be with my baby.

The last thing I thought before going to sleep was “I’m sorry. I love you. Please come back to me again.”

I hope our souls meet again, my baby.

💔

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jugheadonmymind-blog · 7 years

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Clues To My Heart - Jughead x Reader

Here you go! It’s slightly longer than usual! I tried my best to make it as sweet as possible without it being overly sappy for someone like Jughead :) Enjoy!

“Jughead,” you seeth, eyes ablaze, “Get the hell out of my sight,”

He rolls his eyes and shakes his head in what looks like to be disappointment, his eyes filled with hurt and anger, but turns around and leaves anyway. You deflate a little, the argument that just happened sapping the energy out of you and you collapse onto a nearby park bench. It started innocently enough but it somehow just grew out of proportion, and into one of the worse fights you’ve ever had before. Tears prick at the corner of your eyes and you stubbornly wipe them away, unwilling to let your emotions get the best of you as the words he said to you echoes in your head.

School, the next day, is more tense than awkward. Neither of you smile, speak, or even look at one another, despite the fact that you’re seated next to each other for most of your classes. You can feel the animosity emanating off Jughead, and you’re pretty sure he can feel it coming off you too. Proud. Stubborn. Smug. That’s what you called him the day before, but really, it seems you’re not much different. You avoid him during lunch, keeping away from the places you know he usually gravitates to, and you eat alone, the food leaving a bitter taste in your mouth. But it’s even worse after school, when the void that Jughead left behind materialises in a lonely milkshake at Pop’s and a distinct lack of text messages.

This goes on for a couple of days, the anger in you slowly melts away into longing and uncertainty, and if the furtive glances that he’s been sending you when he thinks you’re not paying attention, are to anything to go by, he’s starting to feel the same. You’re infinitely grateful for the fact that it’s a Friday, at least after school you can go home and wallow to your heart’s content, without having to worry about homework or assignments. When the bell signalling the end of the school day rings, you leave quickly, knowing that lingering means a higher chance of running into Jughead. The night is agony; you stopped bothering to check the notifications on your phone hours ago, and you just wish you could have your best friend back, terrified that a permanent rift might form between you and him.

The next morning you decide that enough is enough, and that you’re going to message him by lunch time. Your phone buzzes on the table while you eat breakfast and you reach for it embarrassingly quickly, hoping that maybe, maybe, he sent you a text. You’re greeted, instead, with a rather ominous looking message from an unfamiliar number.

Look under the flower pot by your front door.

You open your door and pause at said flowerpot, staring at it apprehensively, wondering if you should follow the instructions of strange text. Deciding that there’s only so much one can hide under a flowerpot, and deciding that the the chances of something terrible happening are slim to none, you gingerly lift it up. You reveal a sheet of paper sitting innocently on the floor and you pick it up for closer inspection.

Ask Pop for your favourite milkshake.

You’re taken aback by the strange instruction, and you frown at the typed words, wishing it was handwritten, then at least you can attempt to identify who it is. You contemplate whether you should carry on before settling on just going with it, hoping that it isn’t some strange prank by some strange person. You walk over to Pop’s, not missing the way he perks up when you stride through the door, and lean against the counter, glancing down at the note in your hand.

“Hi Pop. I’m supposed to uh, ask you for my usual milkshake?”

He nods in understanding, and pulls out another piece of paper from behind the counter.

Drink. Then go to your favourite spot in the library. Look under the table.

The clink of glass on the counter makes you look up, and you find a freshly made milkshake before you.

Pop smiles benignly, “It’s already been paid for,”

“Pop,” you begin, a grin growing on your face, “Who…?”

He shrugs noncommittally and turns away, pointedly ignoring you. You sip the milkshake, relishing the cool, creaminess of it, excitement rising in your chest. Whoever’s making you go on this wild goose chase, it can’t be someone that bad if they’re buying you milkshakes. When you finish the milkshake, you beam warmly at Pop before heading off to the library, wondering what would be in store for you.

“My favourite place in the library,” you muse to yourself, “That would be near the heater in the winter and near the air conditioner in the summer… Unless of course…”

There was one place. It was a secluded part of the library where they kept books from less common genres and generally received less traffic than the rest of the place. You remember spending an entire day there in the summer with Jughead, where the both of you flipped through the books, entertaining yourselves with the esoteric texts. You nod politely at the librarian as you pass, heading towards the spot you have in mind. Glancing around quickly to make sure you’re not being watched, you drop to your knees and peer under the only desk in that area. To your complete surprise you find a wrapped rectangular object taped to the underside.

The wrapping paper is generic, the sort you’ll be able to find at a corner shop, but there’s a printed message taped to the front telling you to open the present outside the library. You gasp audibly when you tear the package open to reveal one of the books you’ve had on your wishlist for the past year. And only a select few people know about your list; your parents, Betty, maybe Kevin, and… Jughead? Was this his work? A piece of paper flutters to the ground when you flip the cover open, and you bend to retrieve it.

Go to the place where we first met.

You bark out a laugh. It has to be Jughead. You can’t imagine who else would know about your favourite milkshake, the spot in the library, the book. You’re puzzled by this entire affair; was this his way of apologising to you? Part of you feels as though a huge weight was taken off your shoulders, knowing that he wasn’t angry with you anymore, but another part of you has no idea where it’s headed or why he’s even doing it. Deciding to just go with the flow, you make your way to football field, remembering how you first encountered Jughead. It was a few years ago when you just moved into Riverdale. Somehow, you managed to get lost in the small town and wound up at the field, where you spotted him seated on the bleachers, his head tilted as he watched you curiously. You talked as he led you home, and that was the start of your friendship.

You see bright yellow splotches in the distance but it’s only when you near it that you realise exactly what they are. The yellow balloons with smiley faces sharpied on bob and sway in the wind and you grin widely. There’s another piece of paper taped to one of the balloons and you gingerly pull it off, reading it.

Tie them to your wrists because I don’t ever want to lose you again. Come meet me at our favourite spot in Riverdale. I’ll be waiting.

You chuckle at the cheesy line but you feel your cheeks heat up. ‘Our favourite spot’ can only be one place, and your heart starts to race in your chest at the mentioning of it. It was just over a month ago when the both of you stumbled on it, a bench in shady spot by the lake that was shielded from the path and that had a spectacular view of the water, and declared it the best spot in Riverdale, barring Pop’s of course. It was there, bathed in the warm light from the setting sun that you were confronted with the fact that your feelings for Jughead ran deeper than friendship. And now, having to return to that same spot, knowing that he’ll be there waiting for you? You’re not sure whether you’ll be able to hold your emotions in for much longer.

Feeling slightly ridiculous with bright yellow balloons tied to your wrist, you make your way to the lake, anxiousness rising in your chest. Your breath catches in your throat when you see him, fidgeting on the bench, glancing around every few seconds. He catches sight of you, or rather of the balloons, and he stands up slowly as you approach.

“Hi,” you murmur, avoiding his eyes.

“Hey,” he nods, a smile tugging at his lips.

“I’m sorry,” you both say simultaneously, bursting out into quiet laughter after.

“So, all this,” you gesture to the book in your bag and your wrist, “Was this your way of saying sorry?”

“Yeah,” he beams, before adding a little more quietly, “And more,”

“More?” you frown, boldly taking a step closer to him.

He looks out at the shimmering water, unsure if he should continue. He’d just repaired the friendship, would it be wise to broach the topic now? And risk undoing everything?

“Jughead?” you prod.

“I…” his brows knit, clearly struggling with something.

“You…”

It comes out in a rushed breath, “I like you, alright?”

You open your mouth to say something but he continues, sounding resigned.

“I want this,” he gestures at the space between you two, “I want… more of it. I want…”

He glances at your lips.

“God,” he sighs, frustration evident in his voice, as he turns back to the water, “I want to kiss you,”

Laughter bubbles out of you and he frowns, affronted.

“If you’re just going to laugh at me then—”

“You idiot,” you break out in a wide smile, shaking your head at his silliness as you bring up a hand to rest on his cheek.

“I’m guessing this means you’re not opposed to a kiss?” he grins lopsidedly, placing his hand on your waist, pulling you in.

“Not at all,” you laugh, pressing a chaste kiss on his lips.

You bring your other hand up to his shoulder, ready to lean in for another kiss when a balloon smacks him in the face and you both erupt into fits of laughter.

“And I thought these would be a good idea,” he rolls his eyes in mock annoyance, “Let’s get them off you,”

“Hey, Jug,” you whisper as he undos the knot, “Thank you,”

“Thank you?”

“For this, for everything,” you stroke his cheek affectionately, “For just… existing,”

He breaks out in a smile but doesn’t say anything until all the balloons are off your wrist.

“What should we do with them?” he asks.

“Let them go,” you nod towards the sky, “I don’t want anything ever interrupting any more of our kisses,”

“What a coincidence!” he exclaims in false astonishment, “I was thinking the exact same thing!”

“You’re an idiot, Jones,” you laugh, tilting your chin up at him.

“But you like me anyway,” he grins smugly.

Tiptoeing for another kiss, you laugh against his lips.

“God knows why,”

How was that? :)

Gif Source: http://mientusandy.tumblr.com/post/156860756657/jughead-jones-%EF%BE%89-%E3%83%AE-%EF%BE%89%EF%BE%9F

#jughead jones #jughead x reader #jughead imagines #riverdale imagines #riverdale #riverdale cw #my fics

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