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#and the fact that his life savings that he worked so hard for as a handicapped (effectively) single parent
bs2sjh · 2 days
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Blue, Pink and Orange
Fandom: Sherlock (TV)
Also on AO3
TW: referenced suicide attempt and drug use - nothing explicit or descriptive, though.
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It was the colours that made his life hard to bear, that really made it obvious that something was missing. They lacked vibrancy; muted hues with no saturation, no brightness, no excitement.
He’d noticed the lack of colours at a young age. Things that excited those his age failed to bring even a smile to his face. Interests, hobbies, the latest music, movies, clothing styles. All had no effect. He had tried to act like they did, to mimic their responses and actions to certain stimuli. But it never quite worked, and they soon saw through his performance. He wasn’t very old at all when he was first called a ‘freak’ and cast out to the periphery.
He existed there for a while, sad that he was so different. That he couldn’t enjoy the same things that everyone else did. As he grew older, he decided to own his eccentricities, played on them, made them more obvious. Purposefully alienating people was far better than being cast out. At least it was his choice, or so he told himself.
He was sixteen when he first saw the colours himself. When he first experienced life in vivid technicolour. The effect was brief but long enough to make him realise that the colours were, in fact, there. He just needed a little chemical help to see them. Ten years of his life passed in a haze of euphoria intermingled with dullness. The highs made the lows almost unbearable and, more than once, he had attempted to end it all at the top, with bright light and vibrancy all around him. But he had never succeeded. He had always been ‘saved’ against his will. Forced to endure the desaturated tedium of the world.
Then, one day, as the colours were fading from the previous high, they brightened again—slightly, almost imperceptibly. The crime scene tape was vivid, bright blue and white. The lights flashed like argon over the houses and buildings. He stumbled through and saw everything the police seemed to have missed. Shouting his way across the tape, he yelled what he could see, and for a moment, the world was bright. They didn’t listen at first, and he spent the rest of his come down in a cell. But then they did.
A deal was struck. Crime scenes and contacts at New Scotland Yard in return for sobriety. He took a few days to think about this. Could be stand to only have excitement every now and again? He knew that the drugs were killing him. He’d already survived endocarditis, just, and wasn’t keen to go through that again. The looks of sadness that had replaced disappointment on his parents and brother’s faces were also hard to bear. So he accepted.
At first, the time between cases was almost impossible to endure. More than once, he had put on his coat to go out and score when his contact at NSY would call and ask for his help. Before too long, he was called more and more, the intervening dullness getting shorter and easier to cope with. The highs were not as bright, but they lasted longer. The colours stayed with him for several hours post case resolution. Life was okay. It was enough, he reasoned, as the memories of brightness haunted his sleeping hours.
Sherlock had reconciled himself to a life of half-colours, slightly muted with occasional flashes of brightness when in limped John Watson. At once, the colours sprang to life, and the green paint on the microscope slide seemed to glow. Turning once again to look at Mike Stamford’s unassuming friend, he knew.
“Afghanistan or Iraq?”
The next twenty-four hours were a blinding sea of colour, all surrounding a sea of neon pink. As he stepped away from the ambulance, the bright orange of the shock blanket around his shoulders, Sherlock smiled.
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For @flashfictionfridayofficial's prompt #256 - Muted Colours
@lisbeth-kk @totallysilvergirl @calaisreno @a-victorian-girl
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ninyard · 3 days
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I really like the way you portray Nicky in your Twitter AU! I feel like there isn't much discussion of him in general and when there is it can be a little wonky because he is sometimes a controversial character in the text. I always appreciate your thoughts on these kinds of things so I thought I would ask! What are your general thoughts toward him that go into the way you have him in your AU?
Oh!! What a good question!!!
Nicky. Nicky, Nicky, Nicky. I think that he has a bad rep in the fandom and like I GET it. I do. Regardless these are some things I personally believe to be true about him:
- He’s a people pleaser. Sometimes to the point of manipulation, but all he craves in life is to be liked, and accepted, and he will do ANYTHING for anyone if it means he’s their friend.
- He’s a chatterbox, the life of the party, but he’s got to be overcompensating for something. I think Nicky is deeply, severely insecure and self conscious and the best way he knows how to mask that is by being this larger than life personality. He seems like this stuck up I-Love-Myself kind of person, but the reality is, is that it’s a front for the fact that he just wants to be loved.
- He is physically incapable of thinking before he speaks 90% of the time. He hates it about himself, but the words are out of his mouth before he has time to stop them. His loud-mouth gets him in trouble more often than not.
- All he wants in life is to make people laugh. Like, he can be a dick sometimes, and he can be very spiteful when he wants to be, but other than Neil, Nicky is the first monster to make an effort to connect with the Upperclassmen. He needs that connection to thrive.
Idk I had a whole thing in my head to write about him but I’m stuck for words at the minute. I guess I just find Nicky hard to talk about sometimes because I know how divisive the Eden’s incident is among the fandom. Even now I’m thinking about it and having one opinion before my brain chimes in from the other side of the argument and makes a better point in favour of the other side. I don’t KNOW.
(It’s kind of funny that it’s perceived that Nicky is a difficult character to embody but honestly I have a way harder time with Renee and I really don’t know why. I have a pretty solid idea of who Nicky is to me but genuinely I struggle a bit sometimes with Renee. I don’t think I’ve done her character justice anywhere at ALL so I’m still working on that one.)
((Pinterest also helps, in my opinion. I don’t know if people still use it the way that we use to, but I still save inspo to my fox boards that help me with their characters. Here’s some super pointless things I have on my Nicky board that you didn’t ask for at all:))
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ulltraviolences · 14 hours
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let the light in | haymitch abernathy
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pairing: haymitch abernathy x fem!covey!reader
synopsis: deciding to indulge in old habits after a particularly hard night & glimpses of his past life, haymitch doesn’t expect to be comforted by the voice of a beautiful songbird in the hob of 12.
warnings: mentions of war, canon violence, ptsd, alcohol, mention of blood, flirting, age gap (reader is in early 20s), slight sexual themes, kissing, fluff-ish, sweet haymitch
song included: the ballad of lucy gray baird
a/n: this is something I’ve had for so long in my drafts & now that we’ve got the prequel announcement, what better time than to post it! <3
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Maysilee’s loud screech echoes throughout the trees, the mockingjays repeating the blood curdling sound as they start to encircle around him. Haymitch’s feet moving fast beneath him against the dirt trail in order to lose the career pack behind him. His movements beginning themselves before his mind can process them and the fact that she is gone.
The only thing on his mind now being that he survives this, for her, for his family, for his district, and more importantly so he can show that they don’t control him.
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
The sound of glass shattering against the hardwood floor is what finally pulls his consciousness out of the nightmare of the arena. Flailing his arms around as if to protect himself from ever being touched again, haymitch is quick to his feet to stand up and surveil the empty dining room for the slight hint of the ghost of a past tribute looking to attempt to take his life once more.
He stands completely still as he finally takes into account his surroundings, his heart still pumping out an extra beat per minute and silently waiting as he catches his breath. it’s just a dream. you survived. you’re here. you’re home. He repeats the mantra in his head over and over again till it hopefully sticks this time.
It isn’t until he feels a slight trickle drip down onto the table that he sees the fallen glass shatter all over the floor and mixed with the hint of crimson from the shards stuck to his palm.
It feels like a cruel joke almost, a reminder. The blood that he’ll forever have stuck to his hands. The mess of blood that no matter how hard he tries to clean up will just keep flowing in an endless cycle no matter what he does to prevent it from happening again.
A bitter chuckle escapes him at the thought. Amused by his own misery and the situation he’s found himself in. He backs up and slowly treks himself to the kitchen sink to turn on the faucet, relishing in the slight sting that the lukewarm water elicits from his wounded hand.
A small price to pay for the families he thinks about every waking moment that he’s, no doubt, wounded for life by surviving the games against their children. Their loved ones that they’ll never get the chance to see again. Yet, whose faces and names haunt him every night since he’s stepped foot out of that arena.
The pain of not only them but his parents. His sisters. His girl. And Maysilee. Her family. People who he couldn’t save even here at home and after the games. All because he wanted to show them, the capitol, that they couldn’t control him they way they did everyone else.
The growing pit in his stomach now feeling inescapable the longer he stands in front of the running faucet. Shaking his head, he slams the faucet switch off, grabbing the alcohol beside him to disinfect the wound. Hissing and banging his leg against the drawer beneath his sink when when the liquid hits his palm. He slowly bends down to open the drawer and finds the bandaging wrap that he keeps for instances like these, which have happened to become routine for him. He bandages up the rest of his hand until he looks down and hums in slight satisfaction at his work.
As soon as he’s finished, his mind is already preoccupied with what the next choice, or beverage, of distraction he is in need of. It can’t be here though. Anywhere but the empty, cold house in the almost unoccupied, lone victor’s village.
Walking towards the front door, he quickly shrugs on a light coat and his boots. Stepping out into the cool, autumn night out in district 12. He continues down the path towards the main part of the district. Letting the sound of the wind be the only thing present in his mind before he decides to sit down at the hob and think more about his decisions in life so far.
As he nears the hob, he can hear the slight sound of music making its way through the open doors to the outside. Both young and old residents of the district out tonight and drinking, the only semblance of fun and normalcy you’ll find them indulging in despite the circumstances of their situations.
He walks in, immediately making a straight beeline towards the bar. Trying as hard as he can to ignore the lingering stares and pointed whispers of those who recognize him. The only lone alive victor of district 12. Eyes filled with both curiosity and pity as they follow his frame to the bar. All were surprised that he had decided to grace them with his presence for once. As his absence was growing long enough for him to almost be forgotten till the painful reminder on reaping day each year.
Haymitch settles onto the stool near the end of the bar, ordering whatever scarce brew is available for the night. Once it’s placed in front of him, it’s almost gone just as it was full. Already raising his hand to catch the attention of the bartender for another glass. Opting to ignore the judgmental stare and low warning given to him before the bartender hesitantly slides another glass his way.
Lost in thought of the nights earlier events and his second helping of beer, his mind is pulled away by the loud cheers of the people in the hob. Still nursing his beer, he takes a small peak from the corner of his eye to where everyone else’s attention is on to the girl twirling her way onto the stage with guitar in hand.
He’s a bit taken aback for a second, not ever having seen much of her before around the district or even hearing of her name. Yet, he might be the only clueless one as to who this girl is, he thinks. Spotting even, off duty peacekeepers who’ve decided to join in once they see the young woman take the stage.
“Well hey y’all!”, The girl beams, “Now just how might all of you fine folks out here in district 12 must be doing tonight?”
The crowd roars in excitement at the question. Never had he ever seen in life someone command the attention of a majority of a district in such a way that wasn’t related to the games. In a joyful way, nonetheless.
“Alright! Alright! Settle down y’all, I hear you all quite clearly, no need to go rupturing my ears now!”, You say as you playfully roll yours eyes at the crowd, “For those of you who may not know, or have been living under a rock, my name is Y/n Ivory!”
As the crowd around him laughs at the charming display of your personality in full force, Haymitch finds out he’s not immune to the power of your charisma either. He finds himself, still secluded in the dark corner of the room, cracking a small smile at your undeniable stage presence.
Pale white dress flowing freefully over your body landing just right above your knees with flowers woven through your hair and all. You’re the purest untainted vision of beauty he’s ever seen dancing in a place that has seen so much violence and pain as 12. It’s a wonder, he thinks to himself, how he’s gone so long without ever seeing or hearing of you.
He doesn’t know if he should be mad at himself for not getting out more or grateful for the fact that he chose to leave tonight. By having it lead him right here tonight as he watches you illuminate the room with every step you take and smile never breaking off of your face for even a second.
“Now don’t you worry, I’m gonna sing y’all a special one tonight,” you say, strumming the guitar as you continue to speak, “this one is a little tune some of you might know, a ballad we’ve all heard passed down, figured something slow is fitting for a nice night like this”
Haymitch watches you slightly clear your throat a little as you strum the chords on your worn leather guitar. He marvels at the intactness of it, such a prized possession to be in hold of that he’s sure has seen so much in its time. Figuring to himself that it has to be some sort of heirloom, as he knew at least no one, not even him, could afford such a luxury except if you lived in the capitol.
“ When I was a babe I fell down in the holler
when I was girl I fell into your arms
we fell on hard times and we lost our bright color
you went to the dogs and I lived by my charms ”
Your voice is sweet, he thinks. Melodically beautiful, just as he expected, yet it doesn’t take away his surprise nonetheless. The glide of the strings paired with your voice forces him to shake his head a bit just to make sure he wasn’t dead yet from the alcohol and your voice was mistaken as angel from above.
He concludes that regardless, there’s not much of a difference. As he takes in your frame, almost floating above the crowd as high as the sound of your lungs can take you, he figures that you might as well be an angel.
“ I danced for my dinners, spread kisses like honey
you stole and you gambled, and I said you should
we sang for our suppers, we drank up our money
then one day you left, saying I was no good
well, all right, I’m bad, but then you’re no prize either
all right, I’m bad, but then, that’s nothing new
you say you won’t love me, I won’t love you neither
just let me remind you what I am to you
‘cause I am the one who looks out when you’re leaping
I am the one who knows how you were brave
and I am the one who heard what you said sleeping
I’ll take that and more to my grave ”
The lyrics are familiar, he concludes to himself. He remembers the ballad well, one his mother would often sing to him & his sisters when they were younger. It would be a way for her to calm them down each night before a reaping.
He remembers the stories she would tell along with it, of how before the rebellion, there were these people who’d call themselves, “covey”, traveling from district to district singing to their hearts content for the enjoyment of others. She knew them well, she’d tell them. Telling them how the covey eventually settled into district 12.
His mother would talk about the nights where she would go to the hob and dance away. Making great friends with the girl who sang these infamous songs that had been passed down. The girl who also coincidentally introduced his mother to her father one night. Pushing his father until he asked his mother for a dance.
She would end each story by telling Haymitch, “well, now you know that you have someone to be thankful for making sure that you exist”.
The story seemed so mythical to him then, as it still does now. To think of a time when there was so much free will that people once held, especially outside of the Capitol’s restraints. To how something so frivolous as singing was enough to be one’s way of survival. A life of fulfillment and light melodies sung with no threat or existence of the games to ever ruin them.
The sound of Y/N’s voice sweetly coaxes him out of his thoughts. It is then, as he hears her, that he does believe in the stories. That if he continued to hear her voice for the rest of his life, it would be enough to ensure his survival for good. Not even the games would be enough to take him away from her. Not if he could help it.
This line of thinking scares him as it does entice him. He hasn’t felt this way since his first love, the one that they took away him. He feels like a teenager once again, heart practically bursting at the sight of the girl in front of him.
Her eyes roam the crowd as she continues singing, before they eventually catch his awe stricken expression. She smiles slightly, lightly fluttering her lashes at the attention. All before closing her eyes, swaying and losing herself in the music once again.
Not one for ever caring about appearances, he suddenly feels hyper aware of himself. He’s not used to feeling like this, he’s not quite sure how to process it. Just desperate, hoping that when her eyes linger a bit longer on him that she hopefully is feeling what he is too.
When she eventually looks away, he finds a part of himself chasing the high that she had bestowed upon him. Thinking how nothing could ever compare to the way he’s feeling now, not even the smooth liquor that would soothe his mind enough to make him forget things that have happened to him.
Now abandoning the half drank pint in front of him, he finds himself wanting to remember this night. This moment where he doesn’t need anything stronger than your presence to tell him that everything is okay.
The song ends, much to his dismay. The last few chords of your guitar lingering in the air before the hob breaks out in a harmonious applause, praises & hollers being shouted out your way. He watches you graciously thank the crowd, letting the band behind you take over. His eyes linger on you as you exit the stage, watching you laugh & thank everyone who meet on your way through the crowd.
It isn’t until he sees your frame slowly getting nearer that he suddenly feels shy, quickly diverting his attention down to his drink. Hands getting slightly clammy as he registers your sweet voice beside him, asking the bartender for a pint for yourself.
“Well my, my, to what do I owe the pleasure of dragging a victor out to one of my shows tonight?”, you say while letting out a slight giggle at the sight of him.
He’s a bit bewildered at first. Not exactly not knowing how to respond out of fear of embarrassing himself. His mouth slightly opens, letting out a playful scoff at the nickname victor, before replying back in the same playful manner you had.
“Just had to come down to hear what all the yapping around the district was about a pretty girl singing her heart out here each night”, he lightly flirts, hoping it lands well with her.
The action is thankfully welcomed as her laugh floats through the air. He wishes he could bottle the sound up so he could hear it over and over again.
“Now you’re just a peach aren’t you? Trying to butter me up .. hm?”, she says. Poking fun at his attempt of flirting before adding on, “And? Did I meet your expectations?”
His heart flutters at the question, chuckling to mask his nervousness that she so easily seems to trigger.
“That you did, sweetheart. Better than I could’ve thought”, he says, relishing in the way her wide eyed expression lights up at the praise he gives to her.
He feels himself mirroring her contagious smile. Nerves still present, but easing themselves when he sees her relaxing into his gaze.
“You’re a very sweet man, Haymitch Abernathy”, you tell him. Warmth slightly flooding your cheeks as his eyes remained fixed on you.
Quickly, taking the opportunity to glance away from the intense eye contact to take in the details about him. You take notice of the way his hair falls around his face, carefully framing it in a way that was too-professionally done to be of his own doing as the rest of the men in the district. A small testament to his time back and forth between his home and the calling of the Capitol. His slightly rugged appearance combats this, a small show of rebelliousness in the appearance the Capitol attempts to smooth over in a Victor, yet still seeming so distinctively him.
To anyone else, his demeanor would have been enough to ward off lingering stares here in the district. To you, it radiated a rare aura of comfort & warmth around him that you had never felt around another man before. You had wanted to get lost in it, envisioning yourself spending late mornings, running your fingers through his locks and humming a secret tune just for you both.
He chuckled dryly, swirling around the ale in his pint before glancing back up at you, “Sorry to disappoint sweetheart, tell anyone else here that and you might get a different answer”.
He watches as you cock your head to the side, a sly smile on your face, “Well good thing I wasn’t planning on asking anyone else”, sternness lacing your tone before scooting closer towards him, “Anyways, I think I like that I might be the only one in this damn district that can tell the difference”.
Haymitch could feel the way the way his heartbeat practically sped up, his hands fidgeting around the handle of the pint in front of him. Taking a deep breath before turning his attention back to the way your wide eyed gaze is fixated on him, eyes slowly analyzing him as if he’ll run right off. The thought crossed his mind for a minute, more so out of fear of embarrassing himself.
Taking a leap of faith, he brings his hand up to run his hand through a lock of your hair, tucking it behind the flower adorned between your ear. He hums at the pretty detail before plucking it to hold out in his palm, “A primrose?”.
You can feel your body still at the motion, warmth pooling in your chest at the feel of his hand. Carefully eyeing his expression, something that reads as a mixture of wonder and adoration at you. You remember to let out a small breath in the midst of the intimacy this situation, softly smiling as he hums in notice of the flower that lays against your hair.
“It was one of my mama’s favorites”, he can feel the wistfulness in your tone as you recall her, “She used to tell me stories of how my grandma and her great aunt would collect different flowers from their travels in the covey to use to bathe her and her cousins, since the borders between districts closed in the dark days, she gathered primroses here from the fields instead for me”.
He takes notice of the way you softly grasp onto his hand, your smooth palm contrasting with his hardened one and its tiny scars littered that hold unspoken memories of the arena. Your finger lightly traces the petals he holds in his palm, he watches as the mixture of nostalgia and sadness battle in your mind as you recall these memories.
Haymitch feels his own heart twinge, thinking back to what he can remember of his own mother, her voice, her stories, her mannerisms, anything. There’s a thick layer of understanding in the air between the two of you, unspoken feelings and experiences of loss and familiarity. The scattered chattering of the hob and instrumentals seem far away as the two of you take in each other’s presence.
He makes the first move to break the stillness between you two, bringing his hand back up to place the flower in your hair once again. You sigh softly as you feel his hand go to cup your cheek, the pad of his thumb softly tracing back & forth on your skin. Haymitch feels the ghost of a smile threatening to overtake his lips as he feels your nestle your face further into his grasp before asking, “Would you wanna get out of here?”.
You softly nod at his question, not trusting your own voice to betray you and tremble at the delicateness in which he’s treating you. Standing up, you envelope your hand into his as his other finds it’s way onto your waist to lead you through the crowd. A motion so easily done as if it is second nature to you both. There is nothing but comfort and safeness in the act.
The cold air hits you both as you walk out, not feeling quite sure if the goosebumps forming on your skin is a result of that or the proximity of the man that still has a firm hold on you. You don’t seem to mind either way. You take a small peek over to him, watching the internal battle with himself as it plays on his face, eyebrows creased in deep thought. Yet still, he holds onto you, as if it’ll ground him.
You stop walking after a minute or so, watching the confusion in his expression as he snaps out of his thoughts. You pull him over to the small alley way, taking his face in both of your hands and forcing him to look into your eyes. His eyes trace over your questioning expression, taking a hard swallow before he speaks, “I .. I haven’t done this in a long time, sweetheart”.
“And what exactly are we doing?”, you say while lightly laughing.
He feels his nerves dissipate little by little at the sound of your amusement, still battling with the lingering fear in the back of his mind. He hesitates in his action, slowly leaning in to rest his forehead against yours, hands tightening their hold around your waist.
He can feel your breath hitch, your nose slightly touching against his own as your lips part, begging for him to make a move.
“If I do this, I don’t think I’d want to ever have another day where you’re not near me, at least to where I know you’re safe”, he whispers gently as his lips begin to ghost above yours.
“You won’t have to, I’ll be right here”, you whisper back. Your voice filled with reassurance and desperation, willing to give almost every part of you to him if it takes.
You feel the wind knocked out of you, as if you’ve forgotten to know how to breathe once you feel his lips against your own. Your mouths molding perfectly against one another as if this is what you’ve both have been waiting for your entire lives.
You whine softly as he deepens the kiss, his mouth claiming you with purpose. Whether it’s his way of subconsciously ensuring to himself that he won’t let anything happen to you or to convey his own worthiness to you, he can’t tell. The only thing taking up space in his mind being the way you sound as he familiarizes himself with you, tongue exploring yours while his hands grasp at your body.
You both finally break apart after what feels like an eternity, your heart racing as you try to catch your breath. Unable to shake the burning feeling of that his lips left against yours in their wake. Your lids flutter open, already finding his gaze with what reads as both love and protectiveness staring back at you.
“I …”, he clears his throat before finding a way to gather the right words he wants to say to you. He goes over every possibility of what this could mean between the two of you, of letting you in. It would be easier if he could just act like this was meaningless, that he could walk away now and never think of it again. But as with everything else, he knows that you will ruminate in the back of his mind forever with no avail. Not now that he already has you in his arms.
“I won’t be able to give you much”, is all he is able to choke out. A twinge of disappointment lacing his words.
“That’s okay, I’m not looking for much anyways”, you hum. You tip your head up slightly to look at him, “Just want you, it’ll be enough for me”.
“Yeah?”, he says softly. His eyes searching yours for any sign of doubt, relief blossoming in his chest when he doesn’t find any. The only thing staring back him being the firmness in your vulnerability as you hold him in your palm. He pulls his hand from your waist to grab ahold of your hand against his face, bringing your knuckles to his lips, before leaning back in to press another kiss to your lips.
A part of him knows that it’ll always never be this simple. He will do his best to make sure he can protect you from what he can, if it ever comes to it. But right here, right now, in this moment. It’s not something even, Snow himself, can ever take from him.
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takemeorleaveme · 2 days
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Honestly I’m tired of people talking about buddie shippers not getting the joke and that buck was obviously flirting atp I don’t fucking care about that dumbass joke or that whack ass 50 sec awkward ass date anymore I don’t like them I will never like them there is never gonna be a chance for me to ever like Tommy ever again even if by some miracle that guy became the most talented actor on earth and the writing for it got better I will never like them and atp it also has nothing to do with buddie I will never like Tommy I will never like buckTommy because that man that plays him is actual garbage he’s not a good person at all and everytime i see posts from BT fans or even some buddie fans saying we are doing to much not liking him for no reason I don’t give a flying fuck anymore I’m gonna continue to tell them what a piece of garbage he is. You wanna support that guess what you’re trash too IDC it’s not even 10 year old post anymore because he posted a fucking ableist meme about spitting on blind kids while working on show with Gavin… the man is a disgusting human being. He’s a creep as well cause he literally has posts that prove that he is that creepy guy who take pictures of women’s asses in the gym not to mention he posted an ableist joke meme to combat the call out for his racist joke memes and then proceeded to delete said racist memes but kept all the other weird memes up i don’t give a fuck if it was 10 years ago you know how old he was 10 years ago 30 he was 30 and instead of taking accountability and apologizing like a MAN he started blocking people. & not to mention the stupid ass cameos that are probably making his ego so big and why he looks uninterested in any bts video with the cast of 911 cause he has a cult following of weird fucks who are spending hundreds of dollars to hear him talk about what he thinks BT is and will be and they take that and run with it even though in the actual show BT are severely underdeveloped and poorly written and have no chemistry at all because Lou can’t act to save his own life that’s why he has very little lines to say and has weird ass one liners. That guy is a creepy weird fucking racist who supports trump the opposite of Oliver Stark btw and if you choose to if you ignore it and make up excuses for that man I’m gonna assume you are just as bad as him. & I don’t want to hear no bullshit about why did they have to go and dig stuff up just because they want buddie to happen and are jealous why the fuck does he have shit to dig up in the first place as an “actor” he kept that weird shit up also the fact that people are mad that it was dug up and not mad at him for being a shitty human speaks volumes ya’ll ride him so hard and for what he don’t care about you he wants your money he probably don’t even care about the show or the ship ya’ll are just obviously very easy to manipulate and use and he sees that and he’s cashing in. It’s embarrassing!
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meowmarkie · 19 hours
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nct dream as yearning songs
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a/n! This is for funzies only! I don’t know any of them personally so I’m only comparing and linking their behavior shown through videos with the behavior of those I know in real life (me included). And also, If you haven’t listened to any of these songs, PLEASE give them a listen bc I feel like it’ll help you guys better understand my vision :)
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Mark - End Of Beginning, Djo
Just one more tear to cry, one teardrop from my eye
You better save it for
The middle of the night when things aren't black and white
Enter, Troubadour
"Remember 24?"
Mark’s always talking about finally beginning a project whenever he’s with the dreamies, so I always get reminded of this song (that’s not the only reason tho) once the “is it really starting this time?” teasing commences — even though it might pass as a “funny” quirk, the need to establish out loud that they are “restarting” or finally starting things as if from scratch, might be because of something deeper. Mark seems like the kind of guy who works hard and reminisces about his past, especially when it comes to where it all (ironically) started. He works so hard and is almost never relaxing or taking a vacation, he says he’s fine, but since I'm a workaholic as well, I can tell you guys that we always end up breaking down because of how much stuff we’re doing. So, in those overwhelming moments, I can imagine Mark looking back to when he was in Canada, being able to rest and take in all the small pleasures the world can offer, not having to worry about his image, his feelings, his needs or if he’s “korean enough” to be working as an idol (idk about you guys, but that distinction between being a pure korean vs a mixed korean would drive me insane. I’d be so upset to always have to prove myself and prove that part of my nationality), reminiscing about the times when he was full of dreams, peace, and most importantly, energy.
You take the man out of the city, not the city out the man
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Renjun - Abstract (Psychopomp), Hozier
See how it shines
Renjun is a very simple and honest man; he knows what he likes, what he doesn’t and knows how to set up his boundaries. However, he’s really sensible when it comes to life (in ALL its meanings), which is why I’m reminded of this song whenever I think of him. I’m grateful for all the things Renjun has shared with us, such as his mental health, hobbies and just his personality in general. Abstract is a song that shows how much its “subject” is sensible, brave (for jumping into traffic in order to rescue the dying/already dead animal) and never seems to catch a break, while the one singing (in this case, Hozier) can only take in the sight, not being able to do anything to help. In this analogy, Renjun is the subject and his friends/family/fans are Hozier, y’all. I feel like he strives to protect those he loves, and yearns for their well being when he can’t do anything to help.
(it was tough to choose just a small part of the song, when in fact, in my opinion, the whole thing describes him so well)
The speed that you moved
The screech of the cars
The creature still moving
That slowed in your arms
The fear in its eyes
Gone out in an instant
Your tear caught the light
The Earth from a distance
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Jeno - Yes To Heaven, Lana Del Rey
If you go, I'll stay
You come back, I'll be right here
Like a barge at sea
In the storm, I stay clear
We’ve got ourselves a lover boy! No surprises there, I think. Even though this song comes from a female point of view, I think it still describes Jeno really well. Getting back on track, I feel like this suits him given the fact that when he likes someone, he likes someone — if he feels strongly like that, it’s even more intense when it comes to his loved ones, hence the song. Jeno would do anything in the world for his partner, and that includes fighting for them, to keep them by his side even if things get incredibly tough. 
His reason to yearn would be his person, before he even managed to win them over. Jeno would yearn for a life next to his loved one, for their acceptance and approval of him — nothing would make him happier than hearing a yes from his lover.
Say yes to Heaven
Say yes to me
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Haechan - Gilded Lily, Cults
Now it's been long enough to talk about it
I've started not to doubt it, just wrap my head around it
I remember when you told me it's an everyday decision
But with my double vision, how was I supposed to see the way?
This boy is one of the most hard-working human beings on earth, methinks. Because he’s always giving, exposing and donating parts of himself to the world, not gaining anything back… The amount of hate and fake news he gets thrown at him is insane, being the reason why I always think of him when listening to this song. He has the biggest heart ever, and he pays the price for it every single day of his life. Haechan’s personality is bright and it should shine as much as it needs to, he might look overly confident but I wouldn’t doubt that in fact, he’s totally insecure about himself and about his skills, lost in the world yearning for appreciation. Gilded Lily suits him so much it actually pains me to make this connection anywhere other than my brain.
His hard work isn’t half as repaid as it should be. Some “fans” should be embarrassed to call themselves such when the first thing they do is to attack Hae.
Haven't I given enough, given enough?
Always the fool with the slowest heart
But I know you'll take me with you
We'll live in spaces between walls
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Jaemin - Chemtrails Over The Country Club, Lana Del Rey
I'm on the run with you, my sweet love
There's nothing wrong contemplating God
Under the chemtrails over the country club
In another life, I believe that Jaemin could’ve been living peacefully in a suburb, white picket fences and all. This song is filled with nostalgia and the wish to run away with your loved one, which painfully reminds me of Jaemin. He’s the perfect man, the perfect gentleman even, so that’d make his partner want to elope with him. However, this image of him resides only in my (and now, your) imagination — that’s why I chose this song for him. Whenever I take in anything that Jaemin does, I can help but think about how I’d feel in his shoes: he had the plan to become a doctor, did charity work, played the piano, got good grades and was handsome. Having such high standards and some fondness towards the academic way of life, would I be 100% satisfied living an idol life? The answer is no, ergo my need to choose this song for him. If my hunch about Jaem is correct, he’d be yearning for the possibilities of having another life, especially when it comes to love. From what he has shown us, he wouldn’t be the type to voluntarily want to hide his loved one — I feel like he’d want to boast to the world about them.
I interpret this song as a life the singer would like to have had with their loved one, but couldn’t since the opportunity passed, and is now cursed to live forever with their “what ifs”.
My love, my love
Washing my hair, doing the laundry
Late night TV, I want you on me
Like when we were kids
Under chemtrails and country clubs
It's never too late, baby, so don't give up
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Chenle - loml, Taylor Swift
If you know it in one glimpse, it's legendary
You and I go from one kiss to gettin’ married
Still alive killing time at the cemetery
Never quite buried
In your suit and tie, in the nick of time
You lowdown boy, you standup guy
You Holy Ghost, you told me I'm
The love of your life
I apologize in advance to all you Chenle stans out there for bringing this up, but… IT NEEDS TO BE SAID. He fits this song so much it’s actually insane. He doesn’t have many regrets in his life (as said by the man himself), so in a world in which he’d yearn, it’d definitely be because of love, hence why his song is loml. Chenle wouldn’t be able to get over his first love, leading to countless daydreaming sessions and longing sighs. He’d reminisce about his time with the person, over analyzing everything that was said and done, remembering even the smallest things the other person said he didn’t care about. Losing something makes you realize what that thing really meant, thus creating the eternal heartache of knowing that you took it for granted — despite all the fights and wrong-doings, Chenle would never be able to forgive himself for losing the person he loved.
His first love would stay with him forever, but as time goes by, they’d be only a soft memory instead of a lingering sadness.
Our field of dreams, engulfed in fire
Your arson's match, your somber eyes
And I'll still see it until I die
You're the loss of my life
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Jisung - Brother, Kodaline
If I was dying on my knees
You would be the one to rescue me
And if you were drowned at sea I
'd give you my lungs so you could breathe
If there’s one quality I’d use to describe Jisung, It’d be loyalty. He’s extremely loyal towards his hyungs, and that’s why I chose this song for him. Once the dreamies weren’t a fixed unit, Jisung shared his fear of being alone, and without his older brothers by his side, he knew not of what the future had in store for him. Hence why the lyrics (this one in particular: When we were young, we were the ones // The kings and queens, oh yeah we ruled the world) and just the “desperate” vibes of the song scream Park Jisung. He loves the dreamies so much that losing them would be as devastating as losing one of his family members. We don’t get to see the clingy and soft side of Jisung as much as the boys do, but just because we as fans don’t experience it, doesn’t mean that they can’t feel it. 
There’s just not much to say besides that he loves his members to the point of sacrificing himself for them.
I’ve got you brother
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The whole group - Home, Edith Whiskers ver.
We laugh until we think we'll die, barefoot on a summer night
Nothing new is sweeter than with you
I couldn’t do something like this without mentioning the dark period of when Mark was removed from the unit (sorry in advance <3), so here it is! Home would be their song from when they missed Mark, and kept reminiscing about their debut and previous comeback when their leader and older brother was still there with them. The song might come from a romantic point of view, but it’s just as fitting for a friend group, therefore making it perfect to describe the dreamie’s situation.
Losing someone important is awful, especially when that person is “removed” from your day-to-day life thanks to other people’s choices — it isn’t fair, and I’m sure the boys felt this way for a long period of time until they could shine again with Mark by their side. They’ve never been better and nct dream is now on the way to become even more powerful than before, and for that I’m incredibly proud of the children they were, who maintained themselves strong and brave throughout a heartbreaking moment. The dreamies deserve the best and my heart is at ease to see that their recognition is finally arriving. They are my home, and I’m sure they are your home as well :)
Oh, home, let me come home
Home is wherever I'm with you
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debbiechanclub · 4 months
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Trying to tell myself that maintaining my mental and emotional health now is more valuable than having a large sum of money in the future
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mars-ipan · 2 months
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had an absurd amt of fun doodling cal last night so take the other dnd character i've been playing this semester (her campaign just ended </3). her name is pellet (full title sir pellet the rambunctious) she is a spores druid and she is Stinky (i love her dearly)
#martzipan#she's actually. very difficult for me to draw lmao#she keeps rats in her cloak!! they're her buddies#she's actually very very powerful. fun fact she got the last hit on the bbeg. it was climactic as hell. i had a good ass time with it#would have drawn it but that would have required the effort to put her in the right pose lmao#oh yeah pellet's main deal is necromancy. she's a fan. it's fun for her#that last little doodle with the nine circles is in reference to how that campaign ended#that being. the artificer who was given a very powerful magic item that let her cast wish 3 times before Something Bad Happened uh.#well she used her third wish. at the ceremony in which the party was knighted#because she lost her homunculus servant in the final battle#so she. wanted to kill a party member (the sorcerer) and use his life to revive said homunculus#it. did not work (he counterspelled). the Bad Thing still happened though#a rift opened at that point across all of the planes#the sheer force of the rift instakilled both the artificer and the rogue#pellet and the sorcerer survived. barely (downed pretty hard). they were each transported to random planes#the sorcerer was transported to the infernal plane. where. the flames got him#pellet was transported to the nine circles of hell. she survived her death saves and woke up next to the river styx#and that was how the campaign ended. we won. and then a player nearly tpk'd us lmao#pellet as the sole survivor is great. fits her cockroach unkillable vibe perfectly#perfect setup for a spinoff too. if the dm ever has a campaign set in the nine circles she is for SURE showing up#i love my little goblin druid so much. playing a druid was really really fun actually#my darling. she is hard for me to draw for some reason
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dirt-str1der · 1 year
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hello i just wanna say i genuinely like ur observation about nishiki's fighting style and then ya manage to bring it back to ur 'drug addict nishiki' headcanon like it caught me off guard but im also not surprised that is so fair and real of u okay thank u
In a world where drugs dont exist, nishikiyama’s strength comes solely from his anger and i guess he goes to the gym too
#Thanks for the ask !#Yakuza loveblog#its not a headcanon his voice actor said so before he so does drugs and he does it to escape his terrible life ratpark style#i would in fact be more surprised to learn that nishikis rawdogging life i mean hes definitely not religious and i guess he has alcohol but#thats not enough for what he has to endure. we have to give him meth we have to let him do coke#like i have no reason not to believe he goes to the gym because he is literally vain and i bet he works out till he gets a six pack all#one my life sucks two my life sucks on the bench and he drags kiryu there too even though he hates going to the gym because it stanks and#the aircon is always blowing at the worst spots and the overhead lights oohhhh cant stand the bowling alley either he throws the ball as#hard as he can and it doesnt even touch the runway before its smashing into the pins thats why the y5 bowling completion is so easy he#wants to get out of there asap. im off track see everything goes back to kiryu i always neglect nishikiyama. like even kazamas like heres#some drugs now leave me alone and hea like hmm do i snort this or sell it. oh well SNNRRRT. like there is absolutely no reason for his#entire fighting style to be heavy attacks unless hes wired like crazy and its because hes so pissed off all the time plus hes teeming with#like. cocaine. hulking the fuck out. thats why kiryu feels so safe around him because he has every reason to believe that in a pinch nishik#i can grab someones head and pop it like a grape in order to save his life hes seen it happen before it wasnt just because he feels#comfortable and in sync with nishikiyama he literally has seen him punch someone so hard their skull caved in and hes like okay !#thats why he loves fighting him so much its because if nishiki punches him in the head he’ll just have to wake up the next morning in pain#its so fun trust me on this you need to be punched by your brother right now or youll die
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pirateborn-a · 11 months
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Feeling so normal ab cowboy au for roger except its rly just the usual V normal just slightly to the left bc this man translates So well as a cowboy—
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imagopersonal · 10 months
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Aziraphale was about to confess too before Metatron and his coffee came into the bookshop;
Okay, hear me out. In 2x02, when they’re talking about “how people fall in love”, Crowley talks about sudden rainstorms,
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which is an obvious reference to how he fell in love, about 6000 years earlier (poor demon thinks everyone falls in love the way he did)
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Aziraphale doesn’t get it and answers “seems a bit unlikely”. He didn’t connect the dots, he doesn’t think Crowley loves him that way. All he knows about falling in love is what he read in books. Of course he fell in love with Crowley too, but I’m pretty sure he did in ‘41 when Crowley saved his books from a bomb, and that’s a bit hard to recreate, so… balls.
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That’s his idea, you make two people dance together and they magically fall in love, which is so in-character I want to scream. Now let’s get to 2x05. We know Aziraphale always tried to avoid organizing those meetings, but he’s suddenly so excited about it he is WILLING TO GIVE AWAY HIS BOOKS. Why would he do something like that? There’s no way it’s actually to make Maggie and Nina fall in love. At that point, Muriel doesn’t even care anymore about it, they all know the truth about the miracle is about to be revealed, so there’s no point in being so persistent about Maggie and Nina’s relationship. He’s an angel; of course he cares about humans being happy, but I don’t think he cares so much about two semi-strangers’ love life that he’s willing to give away BOOKS for the off chance that the Jane Austen method will actually work on two humans he knows nothing about. So, my conclusion is, he’s organizing that night for him and Crowley. They are the ones that he hopes realize they’re deeply in love with each other, and that is something worth giving away books for. Which explains why he’s so excited but also a bit scared when he asks Crowley to dance with him.
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It explains why he ignores the fact that Crowley is trying to tell him that something important and dangerous is about to happen, just so they can have a little dance. It also explains this reaction when he sees Gabriel and Beelzebub being in love with each other
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and the way he looks at Crowley while they’re talking about them.
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I mean, I know he always stares lovingly at him, but not like that, right? That’s a face that screams “I’m so going to tell you I love you when all this is over”.
So, my point is:
Fuck Metatron.
That’s my point.
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Imago
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jujutsusimp · 15 days
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More than a weapon
🌸Gojo notices some change in his body due to his domesticated life with you and you love it.
Truly this is just a some self indulging fluff and cheesy romance but I needed it.
Content: Gojo x fem!reader, fluff, Gojo being insecure
“I really let myself go huh?”
You peek your head out of the book you are reading on the bed, watching Satoru look himself in the bedroom mirror, pinching a tiny bit of belly fat on his lower abdomen. This man is still carved like a Greek god, but finally, he has something more than muscles and skin.
“I will need to work on that,"  he muses absentmindedly, which makes you frown and answer instinctively: “Don’t you fucking dare.”
He raises an amused eyebrow at your intense declaration, looking at you with a teasing smile. “You like this, Babe?”, he demands with a chuckle while you let go of your book, getting up to embrace him. He doesn’t resist when you wrap your arms around him, burying your head in his chest.
"Yes, I do”, you state firmly with a pout, tightening your grip almost protectively.
“Yeah?”, he insists with a smile in his voice while he gently pets your hair.
“Yes…”, you assert, inhaling his scent, his odor is still discernible despite the flowery perfume of your soap. He always washes with your soap, and you love that. “I am working very hard for this, you know...”
He laughs, and you feel his chest vibrating against your face. “Are you trying to fatten me, my love?”, he says with a teasing voice.
“Not particularly”, you answer softly, feeling some kind of happy melancholia, “but this little belly, it’s proof of all the time you stayed hugging me on the bed instead of exercising...”, you start, peppering his rock hard abs with kisses. “… of all the time you stayed watching a movie with me instead of babysitting the whole sorcery world…” In your eyes, his body being slightly more relaxed is proof of your years of domesticated life together, and you cherish it.
You breathe deeply, digging a bit more your fingers in his back, noticing his hands had stopped petting you. In fact, he is really quiet, which is abnormal for him, and you raise your head to look at him. He appears so vulnerable right now that you feel your heart drop.
“I am allowed?”, his voice is barely a whisper, carrying so much emotions. So much fragility. You wished you had the strength to hug him harder. You wish you weren’t so small and you could shield him in your arms like he does with you. “Yes, yes you are, my love, of course you are. You are allowed to live for yourself… to let yourself go”, you affirm, echoing his first words.
“There are a lot of people counting on me, you know…”
You pout at his protestation, finally letting go of his torso to grab his cheeks. “I know, I am not telling you to stop saving the world, just that your whole life doesn’t have to revolve around your work.”
He seems deep in thought, hesitant, and you cut all further protestation by getting on your toes to plant a kiss on his face, until he is the one lifting you so he can kiss you back, loosing himself on your lips with a tranquil passion. There is no hurry in this kiss, just prolonged contact and devoted tenderness until he withdraws his head to contemplate you, his hands still grabbing you by the waist and upper thighs. There is so much love in those blue eyes, but also some doubts lingering.
“What are you worrying about, love?”, you ask softly, knowing he is still tormented. He looks confused, mumbling a bit as he thinks about it seriously for a moment. You don’t press him, caressing his hair gently in a soothing motion. Only an indecent amount of patience and love can make a man like him voice his insecurities.
“Useless… I don’t want to become useless.”, he finally admits lifting you a bit higher so he can bury his face on your chest and hide how troubled he looks right now.
He didn’t say powerless, or weak. He said “useless”. You contemplate his words for a second before kissing the top of his head affectionately. You still have a lot of work to do.
“You are not a weapon Satoru Gojo, you are a person, my lover, an incredible teacher, and a funny and passionate man. You don’t have to be useful, you have so much more to bring to the world than muscles and powers.”
You feel his grip tightening a bit on your body, almost painfully, but you don’t mind, closing your eyes while you dig your fingers into his hair.
“I don’t care if you don’t believe me yet, I will just repeat it until you know you are enough, you are wanted, you are loved strongest or not.” You hammered with an unwavering voice, holding all your stubborness for things that truly matter.
“Alright, alright”, he finally relents, his emotions vibrating in his voice but coated with sweetness. You look down at him, watching him lift his eyes out of your chest. “I believe you”
You smile proudly, borrowing his signature cocky smirk, which makes him smile fondly in return. Still holding you with one hand, he removes a strand of hair from your face, gazing at you with love. “I guess as long as I am strong enough to do that, it’s okay.”
You lift an eyebrow at his mischievous grin forming behind the tenderness. “Do what?”
Before you finish your sentence, he is making you twirl in the air into his arms, and you gasp, clinging at his hair to not fall with a delighted chuckle he soon echoes.
Yes, it was more than enough.
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earthtooz · 1 year
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fluff with a lot of angst, reader is injured and in hospital for one scene but it's not graphic, lovesick!bakugou
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during the many years you’ve loved bakugou katsuki, you have only seen him cry three times.
the first time, you were alarmed. where you fell asleep on the couch awaiting your boyfriend’s return, you did not expect to wake up to the sound of sniffles and the sight of drying tears.
“katsuki? what’s the matter?” you asked cautiously, immediately sitting up to wipe his tears away.
your touch, like a healing balm to the blond, lets you treat him like glass when both of you know he is nothing akin to fragile.
“‘s nothin’,” he gruffly huffs, voice cracking a little.
“if you say so,” you murmur skeptically, knowing better than to prod when it’s bakugou involved.
“were ya waitin’ for me?”
you nod. “i thought we could eat together but- what time is it?”
“almost nine.”
“oh. i thought we could eat dinner together but your patrol must have ended a lot later.”
his heart aches pitifully, worsening when he watches you rub the sleep out of your eyes. “‘m sorry, i didn’t mean to come home so late.”
“it’s okay, i get it.”
“we can still eat together, if that’s okay,” he grumbles, looking away bashfully and missing the way your face brightens.
“that sounds lovely, i’ll go heat up dinner-“
“-no, i’ll do it. it’s my fault for coming home later, i’ll call you when it's done.”
bakugou is out of your sight before you can argue any further. as you watch your boyfriend disappear, you’re left pondering on the couch as to why he was acting so uncharacteristically. did he have a bad day? did something happen at work? was he unable to save someone? that’s can't be the reason, he always-
“dinner’s done!” your boyfriend calls from the kitchen, disrupting your thoughts.
when you asked, it didn't sound like he had a terrible day, in fact it sounds like he had a successful patrol, but you cannot fathom any other reason for his melancholy, but if he’s forgotten about it, then you will too.
but... bakugou doesn’t forget. he still remembers when midoriya first alluded to the inheritance of his quirk from all might, he remembers the night vision goggles kirishima broke when trying to save him that one time, he remembers your favourite things and what makes you happy; he remembers everything.
and he’ll never forget that the tears he shed tonight were over the fact that bakugou will never get to show you how much he loves you.
bakugou katsuki, for the first time, realised just how painfully human he is.
he has a heart that beats for you, limbs that longingly ache to be near you whenever he’s not, a mind devoted to you and a cursed mouth so incapable of expressing it all.
if he could, he would wrestle the night sky to give its stars to you instead because you love stars. you love the stupid things in life that bakugou can't give. he can’t give you everything you could ever want and with that realisation, bakugou discovered just how beatable he was.
you may never know the multitude of bakugou’s love for you, and that fact alone brings him to tears as he gazed upon your sleeping figure on the couch, resting peacefully until his arrival.
the second time, you wake up confused.
the lights in the room are dim, there's a machine beeping intermittently and you think it's a heartbeat monitor but you don't really think too hard about it because your body hurts.
you have to blink a few times to get the blurriness out of your eyes, but you eventually comprehend the sterile walls of a hospital room. then the memories come back one by one, a patrol gone awry, evacuating citizens and... ah, being slammed into a wall back-first by the villain. explains the pain.
then you register the looming figure beside your bed, a pair of widened vermillion eyes gazing into your own with untameable blond hair to match, you can't help the smile from spreading on your face when you see your lover.
"hey," you cough weakly, throat dry and scratchy from lack of use.
next thing you know, bakugou's bulky figure is draped over yours, forehead resting on your chest as his arms gently snake around your torso, bringing you into his chest and pressing himself firmly against you.
you feel him; his relief, his sorrow, his devotion, his painful sobs as he shakes against you and it kills you that the only thing you have the strength to do is run a hand through his hair. you want to kiss him, to tell him that it's okay and that there's nothing to cry about, that you're here and nothing will change that, but you're so very sore and barely in tact.
"don't do this shit again," he threatens weakly and you feel his tears seep through your hospital gown. "you had me so fuckin' worried, fuck you, fuck you, fuck you, i can't believe you'd do this to me, do you know how much it sucked to be without you?"
"sorry, katsuki," you whisper and he looks up at you, glossy eyes and quivering lip.
"promise me you'll never do this again."
cupping his cheeks with your hands, there's a rush of deja vu as your thumbs catch his tears. "i don't know how realistic that promise is given that this is my job-"
"-your job is to save lives, not go crashin' into buildings, idiot."
you laugh gently, a stabbing pain making itself known in your gut when you do. your wince doesn't go unnoticed by bakugou, who knows you better than the back of his hand and his heart lurches at the slightest evidence that you're in pain. "still, i won't make promises i can't keep, you know how our jobs are, katsuki."
he frowns, furrowing his brows. "then i'll promise to always be there for you. don't go where i can't."
"that's not realistic."
"watch me."
"okay then, deal."
there are questions you still want answers to, but for now, you'll let the blond continue crying with his ear pressed against your chest.
(you won't ever know about the few days bakugou has spent in your hospital ward, absolutely miserable as he looks upon your gaze with anticipation. he hates how helpless he is, that he can't do anything to rid of this horrible feeling in his chest but wait for you to wake up. he hates that he can't any semblance of peace, he hates the man that love has made him, but most importantly, he hates being without you.
you won't ever know the struggle it was to get bakugou out of your room for even just an hour. midoriya and kirishima had to wrestle him in hopes of getting some proper food together, and yaomomo and todoroki had to literally block the door with various items to prevent his entrance.
you won't ever know how alienated bakugou felt, unable to face your shared home without you in it. without your music playing, without your shoes messily thrown at the genkan, without your comforting presence to return to when all is said and done, there isn't much of a home for bakugou.
you won't ever know how desperately bakugou clung to your hand, fiddling with it whenever he needed a safe haven.
you won't ever know the amount of tears the blond had shed by your side, hunched over your bed, with nothing and no one to comfort him but the sound of the heartbeat monitor.)
the third time, you cry too.
it's your wedding day.
when the news first came out, japan practically roared with excitement and anticipation for the special day that their two favourite heroes would wed. the enthusiasm has not dimmed down even months later, and now, as you're one door away from your lover, you feel it buzzing in your bones.
it all goes by in a blur. one second you're about to trip over yourself in nervousness and the next, you're walking down the aisle with a stunned bakugou failing to keep his composure at the altar. despite the amount of close friends and family around you, all you can see is the love of your life who looks at you with unmatched adoration and affection in those ruby irises of his.
up close, however, all you can see are the tears forming in his eyes, and his first sniffle takes everyone in the room by surprise. no doubt, this is their first and last time seeing their beloved hero cry.
more tears are shed and then, it's just waterworks from practically everyone in the room as bakugou breaks down even more.
thank goodness for a private wedding because you know he is never going to live it down if the press got their hands on this image.
a close friend of yours hands you a handkerchief and you wipe away bakugou's tears with a teasing smile, unable to keep your wobbly laughter at bay as your lover- japan's symbol of victory and heroism, turns to nothing but putty in your hands. he lets you treat him so delicately because you've seen him at his lowest, most shaken, and most unlovable, yet still decided to stay.
"sorry," he apologises as you dab at his tears, words reserved for you and you alone. "you're just so... divine. i can't believe i'm marryin' you."
you feel your first tear roll down your cheek and bakugou catches it before it can go too far, wiping it away.
"such an embarrassin' way to start our wedding," he grumbles.
"embarrassing for the both of us, but memorable no doubt," you try to reason.
"everything is memorable as long as i'm with you."
"such a sap," you whack his shoulder lightly. "have you been saving that line for today specifically?"
"you should wait til the vows. bet mine are better than yours."
"i didn't know you could be a poet."
"only for you."
"well then, i can't wait to find out what else you are, katsuki."
"i'll always be yours."
you laugh, "i'm glad to hear that 'cause i love you."
"i love you even more, i'm crying just to prove it."
"your tears are dangerous."
"yeah well, you're marryin' these tears so."
"like i said, i can't wait."
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© EARTHTOOZ 2023, do not steal, translate, repost my fics and do not recommend my fics onto any other site.
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ffsg0jo · 27 days
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toji's not used to this.
the sweet nothings whispered into his cheek, the feeling of the newly risen sun soaking into his skin. his body is telling him to move, to get up, to just grab the money you left him on the desk and leave. but your arms tighten around his torso, and he takes a deep breath in, slightly relaxing into your hold. he reminds himself that there is no money and that there is no reason for him to leave. he's safe in your arms.
he hasn't had to leave before the sun's up in a while now. he's almost forgotten how it feels to be ashamed since he met you. you saw him like he was an actual person. really looked at him, past the hard exterior, and saw more than just a man to take advantage of.
it's taking time for him to get used to being cared for, to being loved. in the year (almost two) that he's known you, it has gotten infinitely better. he's got a roof permanently over his head, is in contact with megumi (the boy's set to move back in with his father just before his birthday) and has gotten a stable job with a decent income. you've helped him with budgeting and saving money (upon his request), and he's even started a small 'megumi college fund'.
he finds himself opening up to both you and his son more, sharing little snippets of the thoughts on his mind and his feelings. with the child growing faster and faster as the days go by, he realises just how alike him and megumi are. emotionally stunted, but both loving fiercely. he has his mother's smile though.
his wife's smile.
his late wife. she would've hated what he became after her death. would've scolded him for leaving his son with a random teenager. would’ve despised the countless murders, her heart breaking at what he’s had to do for money and a roof. maybe it was a good thing she wasn’t alive to see it.
he wonders if she'd be okay with him moving on.
in another life, you both would've been the bestest of friends. you're so alike but so different at the same time. you're both his respite too. she might've left him for you if he was being honest, the thought making him laugh dryly every single time it enters his mind.
toji feels like he can conquer the world with you cheering him on and his son right beside you, in his corner. he's getting better. he really is. but progress isn't linear.
there are still nights where he breaks down, sobbing into your arms.
he tries to be quiet, but his throat clogs up, and he can't breathe. he's gasping for air, trying to focus on the way one of your hands is sifting through his hair and the other rubbing his back. but he slips, and a new wave of tears run down his face. he's spluttering, and there's snot all over your shoulder. but you patiently hold him through it all, press kisses to his hair, gently telling him to let it all out.
"i've got you toji," you whisper. "you'll always be safe with me."
when he's finally settled, you're holding a water bottle to his lips, letting him drink as much as he wants, gently dragging a cool, damp washcloth over his face when he's had his fill. your gentleness and unfiltered love make him want to sob all over again. he's undeserving, he thinks, but he'll never be ungrateful for your love or take advantage of it. he'd do anything in power to become deserving of you and cherish you for as long as he lives.
he'll never be the man he once was. his wife's death had affected him deeply in ways he'll never recover (and part of him doesn't want to fully); she was the love of his life. but he's working on reconciling with what he's becoming and the way you've impacted his life, too.
he feels guilty for loving you sometimes, the way he loved his late wife. you've experienced things with megumi his wife could only dream of. megumi loves you like a mother figure, and sometimes he finds himself loathing the fact. it's not your fault, though, and his therapist's words constantly play on his mind, forcing the negative thoughts out. it's getting better.
slowly but surely, toji is healing. his life wasn't always easy, full of hatred and anger. he's made so many mistakes, he has so many regrets (you'd never be one of them) and he's atoning for his sins. like sand during a storm in the desert, grain by golden grain, his life has been displaced with love. with his late wife's, with his little blessing's, and with yours.
he's loved and lost, and then lost a whole lot more. but now, he's been given the privilege of loving once more.
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© ffsg0jo 2024 — do not plagiarise, repost, modify, or translate any of my work, in any way shape or form; i will piss in your cereal if you do. all work belongs to me and me only.
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mizu0xox0 · 2 months
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Self aware! Aventurine who's quite pleased to see the amount of pulls you have saved for him. (Doesn't matter the amount he's just happy you're even thinking about pulling for him.)
Self aware! Aventurine who found it funny when he heard you saying his voice lines while pulling for him as a way to attract him home or something? Well it worked since he is home.
Self aware! Aventurine who decides to tease you a little and only when you hit hard pity then does he step out of that damned train.
Self aware! Aventurine who sees you give him your Gepards relics and lightcone well that's not shocking after all he was quite good at his job as one of the Strategems.
Self aware! Aventurine whose shield while in your party is stronger than you had built it and he always crits his attacks no matter how low his crit rate maybe. He doesn't want to take the risk of being removed from your party like what you did to Gepard so might as well make full use of the fact you didn't bring a healer because he could sustain your party.
Self aware! Aventurine who realizes your running low on credits from building him and a team surrounding him well don't worry as he says don't ask just spend. You'll see a sudden increase in credits in your inventory, where did they come from? Well you don't need to know but Aventurine knows where those came from. (Bros just funding your account with endless amounts of credits)
Self aware! Aventurine who really tries his hardest to come home again if you were to pull for his eidolons and his lightcone. Expect to win your 50/50s on his banner and maybe you'll get a few early's or double 5 stars.
Self aware! Aventurine who's amused when you put him in a party with Topaz and Dr Ratio. A very well thought out team for him.
Self aware! Aventurine who tries to go easy on you during his boss fght and he'll be amused if you brought himself during the fight as the sustainer on your team. You really were testing his luck in both ways this time.
Self aware! Aventurine who has mixed feelings about you. After all he didn't go through those hardships in his life just to learn it was all just a game for you to be entertained by? But maybe you weren't entertained after all he heard your cries when you played through the quest when you were getting a little emotional over a supposed fictional character. How he wishes he could break the damned screen keeping you out of his reach to wipe those tears.
Self aware! Aventurine who's currently content with being in your party and trying to keep your party alive. One day maybe one day he could get through this screen to you with his luck. So he could see who had cried for him upon learning his past.
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gojosprettyprincess · 3 months
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A/n About mha but there's so many jjk characters I feel like would do this :3 so sorry for any errors.
Thinking about having a Pro-hero boyfriend that everyone loves, they adore him, he's just so sweet and kind yk?, literally would do anything to protect the civilians, helping people and saving them from villains. Practically risking his life every single day for others with a smile plastered on his face. Everyone looks at him with pure adoration and honor.
But behind closed doors when he's with you, he's not so nice and sweet when he has your body folded in a mating press, heavy balls slapping against your asshole as he's stabbing his cock into you in a reckless pace that has your cunt gushing and creaming all over his length, he makes sure that he's balls deep buried into your cunt to the hilt with every hard thrust. Every. Single. Time, when he's frustrated because of work, whether it's because a villain got away or he didn't get to save a civilian, he takes it all out on your poor cunt as soon he gets home, he doesn't waste a second. He doesn't even bother getting his hero costume completely off before he's rutting his hard cock into your tight hole, splitting it in two around him while he's stretching you apart.
He thrusts himself so fucking hard into you that he might almost break you one day because of how reckless he is with your poor little body, training and working out is a serious thing for him so him being so fucking bigger and stronger than you, even than a normal man is no surprise, matter a fact he practically has the body of a fucking Greek God so manhandling you into whatever fucking position he felt like bullying his cock into you in and fucking you stupid in, wasn’t that difficult for him at all.
He loves having his way with you, it's almost sadistic how he laughs and mocks you every time he has you blabbering a bunch of nonsense on his thick cock with fat tears leaking out your eyes, big strong arms flexing against you, displaying his ripped muscles while he's holding your body effortlessly as he's fucking you in full nelson, your pathetic little babbles and moans filling his ears as he's licking your tears away. Hell, he'd even have you screaming his Hero name while he has your filthy cunt making a mess all over his cock.
And Oh there's no words to describe how much he loves making you nervous and teasing you whether it's circling his thumb over your asshole, and poking it ever so slightly so he can hear the shifting of your moans, making you overthink that he's going to force his thumb inside of you, then he just chuckles and moves his thumb towards your clit to rub sloppy circles on the sensitive bud. Or whispering a bunch of nasty shit to your ear while he's ruining you because he knows how much that shit drives you crazy.
"Fucking hell I'm gonna ruin you, gonna reshape this cunt to the size of my cock so it could be perfect just for me, you get that? You belong to me".
"Such a good little cumslut f'me aren't ya baby? so fucking warm and tight for my cock".
"Fuckkk princess no one can fucking ruin this cunt like I can, your daddy's one of the best fucking heroes, only I can fuck you this good and stupid, yeah?"
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voxsremotec0ck · 4 months
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𝐖𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐟𝐮𝐥 𝐄𝐲𝐞.ᐟ
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ᯤ Vox x Fem!Reader
ᯤ Stalking, obsessive and possessive behavior, voyeurism, nsfw
˗ˏˋ While Vox monitors Alastor the Hazbin Hotel, he takes an interest in the newest guest ˎˊ˗
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Vox could kill Pentious for getting caught before successfully placing a single camera inside the hotel
Now he was stuck just watching the outside of the damn place
He wouldn’t even be doing this if Alastor hadn’t come back to ruin his life
FUCK
Vox once again sat in his monitor room working on multiple projects while keeping an eye on the shitty hotel
When for the first time in months
A new sinner walked up to the tall building and knocked on the door
He didn’t recognize you which instantly put him on edge
Now there was ANOTHER demon he had to monitor
At first you were just another non-Alastor resident to him
But slowly you became something more
You spent a lot of time out on the balcony right in his view
Reading, morning coffee, or just playing on your phone you were almost constantly outside
Which confused him because who the fuck wants to look around at Hell but whatever
At some point he started to pay attention to what books you read and how you liked your coffee
His interest in you got to the point where he stopped caring about what Alastor was doing
All Vox wanted was a chance to see you
Eventually you consumed his every thought
You were just so…
Perfect
He needed to figure out how to get a camera inside your room
Turns out he didn’t even need to do anything because one day you brought one of his products
And that was probably the greatest day of his life because FINALLY he got to see you up close
You were even more beautiful with your eyes peering right into his monitor
Vox took a screenshot and saved it to a private folder
One that would quickly fill up
Now he had unlimited access to anything he wanted to know about you
Search history, social media accounts, what kind of shows you like to watch
He stored all the information away for when he eventually made his move on you
Then one night something magical happened
It was late and you were still up
Which meant Voxs was still up to
As you were scrolling through Hells twitter a clip from a porno popped up on your timeline
And instead of scrolling away you watched it
And Vox watched you watch it
Eventually you clicked on the account and scrolled through the multiple porn clips on it
Skipping any that included Angel Dust because he was your friend and that was just weird
Vox watched you through the camera
He watched as your pupils dilated and your cheeks turn red and your breath become heavy
He was so hard it hurt
And when it became obvious that you were touching yourself, the camera shaking and little noises falling from your lips
He pulled his dick out of his dress pants and stroked himself to your fucked out face
Vox couldn’t give to shits about the porn you were watching
Honestly he wished he could mute it so he could hear you better
But this would have to do
He wanted to see what face you’d make when you came
And so desperately wished he was the one forcing those moans from your throat
One day
One day he would get to pull your legs apart and push his cock inside of you
Making you scream his name loud enough for all of Pride Circle to hear
When you came your head tilted back on a long moan
Your eyes closing with a look of pure bliss
And Vox had never cum so hard
He felt himself glitching as he spilled all over his hand and desk
Fuck
If this is how it felt just fucking his hand to your little moans and pleasured filled face
He couldn’t imagine what it would be like to be inside of you
Vox needed to find a way to make you his
The sooner the better
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Sigh… I’m still trying to come to terms with the fact that I’m attracted to a man with a TV head
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