Tumgik
#bless my poor heart I can’t take it
terrywho-cartoons · 3 months
Text
Tumblr media
“Is she breathing? IS SHE BREATHING?!”
94 notes · View notes
tojipie · 6 months
Text
bundle of joy <3
prison bf toji series linked here <3
this man was forged and handcrafted to be a girl-dad to a little sweetheart. i love him w all my heart.
Tumblr media
the rasp of your husbands voice is so soft that you’re unsure if you’re still dreaming, head spinning from the IV cocktail the doctors had pumped into you the day prior.
toji sits with his back to you, your daughter cradled in the crook of his arm. your little bundle of joy so gently, letting her mindlessly grab at the cuff of his sleeve.
“what’re you doing, huh?” he mumbles, stroking the softness of her cheek with his thumb.
the baby ignores him, opting to try and get the fabric of his shirt into her mouth. soft, pink little gums bite down on freshly washed cotton, her feet kicking in excitement at the new texture.
“aht— hey!” he mumbles, gently pulling the soaked fabric from her grasp. “dirty.”
you sit up from your spot on the bed, inching over to the two of them.
toji truly can’t take his eyes off her, nodding intently while the newborn babbles nonsense to herself. he quickly switches her to his other arm once you join him, letting you lean your full weight on him.
tiny, pruney little fingers close around the bottom of his index, soft skin contrasting against the blues and blacks of his tattooed knuckles.
“is she supposed to be this tiny?” he whispers, half in awe half out of concern. your heart melts at how soft his voice is, eyes blown wide.
“f’course,” you giggle tiredly, still woozy from the epidural. you nose at the curve of his shoulder with a hum. “doctors said she was perfectly healthy, remember?”
“right, shit,” he mutters, tensing up at the freudian slip. “oh— sorry,” he says it to your daughter this time, clearly embarrassed at his lack of a filter.
toji’s lifestyle change had been a gradual process. a culmination of a life spent on the streets, moving up the ranks year after year until he’d forged an empire built on the bodies of his enemies.
then you came along, holding him down through a 7 year sentence while the world threw its worst at him, testing the integrity of your relationship as you both struggled to see the light at the end of the tunnel.
somewhere along the way nights at the club together turned into nights spent inside, planning out your future.
you had wanted to give him this for so long. to raise a child together and complete your little family, fulfilling both your lives just a little bit more. toji had dropped to his knees when you brought him the positive test, burying his face in your stomach to hide his teary eyes.
you can’t help but laugh to yourself at the irony of it all. that the man in front of you with the word “greed” gracing his knuckles in bold letters was holding your baby with all the generosity in the world.
“she drank a ton today.”
“oh yeah? big appetite huh?” he coos, pulling her pink baby hat up to let her little ears breathe.
“takes after her dad.”
your little blessing lets out a tiny yawn before closing her eyes, tuckered out after a long day of adjusting to her new world.
“should i put her back in the crib?” he whispers, so scared of waking the poor girl up.
let her sleep on me for a little, i’ll be up for a while anyways,” you explain, reaching for your daughter to let her settle onto your chest.
“my girls,” he mumbles, so full of love when he says it.
Tumblr media
taglist ! 🏷️
@honeybee54321 @m150-50up @kuryoomi @t4naiis @serendippindots @sillyalo @levixbby @powerrwa @tojishugetiddies @wheredidmycrowngo @unknownspecies @ushygushybaby @ebiharachan @hoshigray @crazychaoticizzy @denypipa @watyousayin @tempest1art @sakuraryomen01 @kariito-art @vkeyy @mxtokko @inumakiiz @rosieee491 @loveme-b4by @suguxo @namjoonsbuspass @tojis-luver @complexivelovely @dancingwithdeities @sunflwrsugar @catvader101 @ktsgrl @princessos-blog @4ut0p5y @swiftsongs-mp3 @mycocoapuffs @adrenepinephrine @na0koz @suguscape @jaswonder3 @bokutosprettylittlebimbo @getousrep @jeannieboys @darkstarlight82 @freebananabeard @vivian-555 @kentokaze @subarusuguru
4K notes · View notes
chrisevansonly · 6 months
Text
𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐧 𝐠𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐬 | 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐥𝐞𝐫𝐜
ʚ charles leclerc x female reader
ʚ charles gets the one call he never wanted to get, and despite your worries about his precious pista, he doesn’t care about the car. just you.
ʚ angst, description of injuries (minor), mentions of blood, panic attacks, violence (minor), tears and lots of soft charles
ʚ okay idk why i thought of this idea, but i have and here we are, i know people have been asking for angst, this idk if it qualifies as the angst you’re all looking for but I will work on some other ideas too:)
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Time was frozen as you sat in the driver’s seat of what once looked like a Ferrari 488 Pista. Only now you could make out the back of the car, the front of it might as well be in a what not to do when you drive a luxury vehicle catalogue. Your head was ringing and your chest pounding as adrenaline and anxiety pumped through your veins, as much as you’d started to feel pain in a multitude of places, your brain was thinking of only one thing;
Charles is going to be so mad.
To make matters worse, the man who had hit you was now cursing through the tinted window, claiming the accident to be all your fault. Deciding to think about Charles’s potential anger later you picked your phone up and called his number.
Thankfully it didn’t take long, 
“Hi baby, are you on your way back”
A pause 
“Um…I-I got in an accident Char…”
The line was silent before he spoke up, panic laced in his voice. 
“Qu'entendez-vous par ‘accident?’  Qu'est-ce qui s'est passé? Où es-tu, es-tu gravement blesse.”
“Charles, english please my head hurts so bad.”
Normally you’d be able to hold an entire conversation with him in French, but right now it was just too much.
“I’m sorry, where are you baby? Are you hurt bad?”
Sniffling softly, you hummed
“I am down by the marina; my head really hurts. The man who hit me…he-he is yelling loudly at me…can you-oh Charles your poor car….”
“No, don’t even worry about my car baby, you matter more to me, I can’t replace you, but I can replace the car. I’ll be there in ten minutes, keep the doors locked, don’t get out.”
You nodded, only then realizing he couldn’t see you. 
“Yes, okay, I’ll wait here…please hurry”
“I will chérie, I promise.”
-
Just like he’d said, a familiar black Alfa Romeo pulled up next to the crash site, Charles quick to get out and come towards the driver’s side door, only to see the man banging at the window. 
“Hey, can you step away from my car?”
The man turned to look at Charles
“Cette stupide salope a détruit ma voiture!”
“Je vous le redemande, éloignez-vous de ma voiture”
It was getting harder for Charles to reign in his anger, quickly pushing the man back, giving him a look that at this point in the evening, had him backing away, finally allowing Charles to open the door and see you
“Hey..hey.. I’m here, its okay?”
Charles swore his heart broke as you looked at him with teary eyes, a bruise above your eyebrow, but thankfully you appeared alright otherwise.
“I-I’m so sorry about your car Charlie, he just-he came out of nowhere, and I-I couldn’t-I am so so sorry!”
Holding back the sobs was almost impossible at this point, but Charles was quick to undo your seatbelt, helping you turn towards the door and put your feet on the ground. Once he had you turned toward him, he brought his hands up to hold your face, his thumbs swiping your cheeks.
“My love, listen to me, you are my main priority, you are the love of my life, and this car is just mental and parts, all which can be fixed, but you cannot, and I cannot have another one of you, ever okay?”
Sniffling you nodded
“Okay…”
In the distance you could heard the sirens coming your way, knowing you’d be going to the hospital, it was a given but for now you really just needed Charles, and he wasn’t going anywhere, that was for sure.
“Are you hurting badly baby?”
“No, just my head…can you help me up?”
Your boyfriend nodded, holding onto your arms gently as he helped you stand up, before bringing you into his chest, your arms wrapping around him, as he did the same to you.
“I am so glad you’re okay, you have no idea how worried I was…we’ll get you to the hospital and then i’m not leaving your side”
“Promise you won’t?”
Charles smiled as he saw your pinky finger come up, quickly linking his in a pink promise, a tradition you’d both been doing since your third date.
“I promise, i’m not going anywhere”
As the sirens got closer, you leaned further into Charles, knowing no matter what happened, he’d be by your side for as long as you needed him, he’d be there. It didn’t matter if he had a race, media or social events to attend, for you he’d drop them in a heart beat over and over again.
Because he never wanted to get that kind of phone call again.
translations:
-Qu'entendez-vous par ‘accident?’  Qu'est-ce qui s'est passé? Où es-tu, es-tu gravement blesse : What do you mean by 'accident?' What happened? Where are you, are you seriously injured?
-Cette stupide salope a détruit ma voiture!: This stupid bitch destroyed my car!
-Je vous le redemande, éloignez-vous de ma voiture: I'm asking you again, get away from my car
2K notes · View notes
ma1dita · 3 months
Note
I think I’d be sort of interesting if, for like an alternate ending where Luke is alive and doesn’t betray camp, Luke when he’s older decides to visit his mother but with diyonius reader
the house on a hill
a ‘partners in crime’ alternate universe installment - luke castellan x dionysus!reader
alternate universe masterpost
words: 663
summary: alternate universe - driving up to mom’s for the weekend & some sweet domesticity - luke castellan x dionysus!reader 
a/n: this was a cute lil way to clear my head! send more luke x trouble asks??
(posted 1/28/23 unbetad)
written in reference to this blurb
Your head bumps against the car window as you jolt awake.
“About time that you woke up, babe,” Luke grins, his eyes still on the road. Blinking slowly, you look around at the trees blurring together as you stare out the window, recognizing where you are. The two of you were driving up from your apartment in Brooklyn, finally going to see his mom for the weekend. With graduation steadily approaching in the next few months, there was a lot to think about.
“How long was I out?” you groan, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes. The sun is setting now, and a blue “Welcome to Connecticut! We’re Full of Surprises!” sign whizzes past the passenger window.
“Just an hour, but I got a little lonely,” Luke hums, rubbing circles on your thigh while his other hand is on the wheel. You lace your fingers with his own, watching him yawn. You can tell he needs this, and with all the time your dad drags you back to Montauk for ‘consults’, it’d be nice to get a dose of normal for once.
“Poor baby.”
Laughter spills out of you like a melody as you crack open the still-cold redbull in the cupholder, and he can’t help but admire your side profile as you take big sips. He’s so in love with you, and this weekend will be perfect. It has to be.
“Mmm, want some?”
Your boyfriend takes a sip, smiling when he hears you singing along to a Taylor Swift song. As you hold up an imaginary microphone for him to warble into, the distance to his childhood home gets smaller and smaller, until you spot the white picket fence of the property and squeal in excitement.
“Hurry up, I wanna see your mom!” you giggle, stomping your feet onto the car floor as he drives up the grassy path and honks loudly.
“Hey, I thought I was your favorite Castellan, trouble…” Luke says and his voice trails off when he sees his mom peeking through the kitchen window, waving at you.
“Whatever you say, angelface.”
You almost hop out of the car and run up the steps to hug her, gentle hands pulling you into a feeling of comfort only mothers can give.
“Hi Ms. Castellan!”
“Oh honey, I told you May is fine, or Mom. You’re already my favorite kid!” she grins, her smile exactly like her son’s, and the both of you turn to hear Luke grumbling as he pops the trunk to get your bags.
“Hi mommy,” Luke chuckles, bumping your hip to push you into the house as he kisses May’s cheek, “Stop being so obvious, you’re gonna spoil my surprise!” His hands fumble with the bags as he props a knee up to readjust his hold on your backpack and May’s hands reach out to help him.
“No, it’s okay, I got it, I got it…”
May catches the ring box that falls out of Luke’s back pocket, holding it to her chest with a knowing smile.
“You’re always gonna need some help, whether you admit it or not, my love.” She tucks the box into the pocket of his flannel shirt, patting it before she pinches his cheek.
“Luckily, you have a woman like her. Bless her heart for what you’ll put her through,” May says laughing at his scrunched-up expression.
“Guess I’m just scared she’ll say no.”
Luke sighs, looking at her like she holds the answers to the world.
“She’ll be crazy if she says no,” she reasons, and they both listen to you setting the table in the dining room.
“No, she’ll be crazy if she says yes. That’s why I want to marry her,” he snorts, bringing the bags in through the doorway.
“Um, mom? I think the cookies are burning!” you call out, sounding panicked.
The weight of the box in his pocket feels heavy, but his heart has never felt so light and sure of what’s to come. 
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
(pictures are not representative of reader's appearance and gender, simply added visuals for funsies)
luke taglist (struck out won't let me tag, turn on my post notifs?): @kissingyourgrl @dorcas4meadowes @lorarri @andrewgarfldsgf @noodlesketchbook @10ava01 @poppysrin @ashisabitgay @timhalamet @liv1104 @leeknows-wife @mxtokko @bugcuti3 @luvvfromme @midmourn @2hiigh2cry @yuminako @niktwazny303 @targaryenluvs @lukecastellandefender @intergalactic-padawan @iliketopgun @annybah @dangelnleif @thegrinningghost @alyssajunelle @obxstiles @m00ng4z3r @visndcaitswhore @this-barbie-is-having-breakdowns @amortencjja @idonevenknow1359 @maliaaaa @targaryenluvs @sakyira @dhdjdjjdhsjdiri @number-onekidqueen @nininehaaa @bradynoonswife @stevenknightmarc @hoodedhavok @happy-mushrooms @homebyeleven @anotherblackreader @too-deviant @liviessun @b0ok-lover
513 notes · View notes
simpingforstardew · 2 months
Text
lone star
Tumblr media
pairing: sdv shane x reader
synopsis: stargazing w/ shane. this fic takes place ‘post-game’ (i.e., after the farmer receives the ‘key to the town’, and after shane begins therapy’). friends to lovers enjoyers rise up !!
warnings: angst, with comfort and fluff; descriptions of poor mental health, depression etc. stay safe. ♡
(this is crossposted from ao3).
word count: 1.9k
Tumblr media
In the calm of the valley, the night sky stretches out in a breathtaking display: the stars shine proudly, their brilliance undimmed by city lights. Despite moving to Pelican Town four years ago, you're still awestruck by the vastness of the cosmos visible to the naked eye— a sight that would have been obscured by the city smog in Zuzu. Back there, spotting a single star was a rare blessing; seeing one that was not, in fact, just the mistaken dim glow of a passing helicopter was an even greater rarity.
Nestling your head into the sturdy hay bale beneath you, you inhale the earthy scent of dried grass mingling with the crisp night air. Above, the canopy of stars twinkles in a mesmerising dance, each constellation a story waiting to be told. Your gaze flits between the shimmering points of light, tracing the familiar patterns of the night sky.
Beside you, your loyal companion snores softly, a comforting rhythm that grounds you in the present moment. Absentmindedly, you stroke the sleeping dog's fur, feeling the warmth of their body against your fingertips. The bottles of pumpkin juice you had meticulously prepared lay forgotten on the ground, their contents untouched. Your large blanket, meant to shield you from the nocturnal chill, sits idle at your feet.
Despite the breathtaking beauty of the scene before you, a pang of guilt tugs at your heart. It feels almost selfish, you think, to bask in such a gorgeous view alone.
Without hesitation, you rise from your spot beside the barn, stretching your tight shoulders with a huff before swiftly leaping over the hardwood fence. Only one other person in town would be awake at this late hour, and you knew exactly where you would find him. You took a deep breath of the crisp air before making your way down the dirt road towards Cindersap Forest.
“Oh, sure– just let yourself in, I guess,” Shane’s gruff voice murmurs from the kitchen, “I can’t believe Lewis lets you keep that ‘Key to the Town’, fuckin’ bullshit.”
You lean against the door frame, a smirk tugging on your lips as Shane pulls out a steaming bowl of ‘JojaBrand™ Meal for One��: Pepper Poppers’ from the microwave. "Shh, you know you secretly enjoy my surprise visits, Shane," you tease, "Besides, I came over to ask you something."
“Well, are you gonna spit it out, toots, or do you plan on waking up the whole house for this announcement?” Shane grumbles, searching for a clean fork. Years ago, you found his standoffish demeanour frustrating– unfortunately for him, however, it only fuelled your desire to develop a relationship with him; to break down those walls he built up.
“I was gonna ask if you wanted to stargaze with me,” you smile, a genuine toothy grin. “It’s a nice night for it.”
Shane’s eyebrows shoot up momentarily as he hesitates, glancing towards you, “You seriously came over just to ask me that?”
“You don’t have to join me if you don’t want to,” you reply, chuckling softly as you push off the door frame and turn to leave, “Just figured we hadn’t caught up in a while.”
You hear a groan coming from behind you, followed by the clattering of a bowl being discarded on the kitchen counter. He had always had a soft spot for you.
“Yeah, yeah,” Shane sighs, “Lemme grab my jacket.”
The night air is crisp as you and Shane traverse the farm. The distant sound of crickets chirping provides a soothing backdrop to the quiet countryside, interrupted only by the occasional rustle of leaves in the gentle breeze. Shane walks behind you, his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his well-worn jacket; his posture stiff and guarded as always.
As you reach your spot by the barn, you unfurl the blanket and settle against the hay, gazing up at the expanse of stars above.
"So, how've you been, buddy?" you offer Shane a bottle of pumpkin juice, noting the tension in his shoulders. "Feels like I haven't seen much of you lately."
Despite Shane's usual standoffish demeanour, there is a subtle shift in his presence as he lowers himself onto the blanket beside you and grabs the juice. His shoulders relax ever so slightly, and for the first time in a long while, there is a hint of vulnerability in his gaze as he turns his attention skyward.
“I’ve been… I don’t know. Good.” Shane's voice trails off as shifts his gaze to the bottle in his hand, his shoulders slouched while his words hang heavy in the air. He drops his head against the rough surface of the hay bale behind him.
Glancing towards him, you note the furrow in his brow and the tension in his shoulders; his strong features illuminated by the moonlight. You resist the urge to press him further, allowing a comfortable silence to settle between you.
Lost in contemplation, you find solace in the vastness above.
After what felt like an eternity, Shane spoke up once more: his voice barely above a whisper.
"Any time I go shopping, like at Pierre’s or when I used to restock the shit they sold at JojaMart, I’d always feel like I’m in the way, y’know?” Shane confesses, his gaze fixed on the black velvet of the night sky. “As if someone is gonna be blocked off by me. And I know it’s not just 'cause I'm a big guy, doll, because then I leave the shop and realise that I still feel like I’m in the way.”
“Do you feel like that now?” you probe, allowing your gaze to drift towards him.
“Kinda, yeah. I always feel like that, I guess,” Shane admits, his voice tinged with resignation. He takes a swig of his juice. “Like I’m some kind of… rock stuck in a stream, with everybody else on planet Earth barging ahead around me—or some other flowery metaphor Elliot’d come up with, I don’t fucking know.”
“Is therapy helping with that feeling? Seems to me like you’re really making progress, if that means anything.” you reply, too enamoured with the contours of his side profile to notice the way his pinky finger locks with yours on the plush blanket. A promise of vulnerability.
“Sorta, but there's a pressure there as well, y’know? Gotta be happy all the time now, otherwise what was it all for? I don't even have a job anymore, I just... I’m just worried that…” Shane pauses, his fingers absentmindedly plucking at the hay behind him, “…Ah, forget it.”
“Worried that what?” You turn to face him, the spectacle of the cosmos long-forgotten.
“It's just that… what if my addiction; shitty personality; tendency to lie about the most basic crap to see people’s reaction; awful sense of humour; impulse to fall in love with someone if they’re nice to me; horrid fashion sense; inability to take a photo of myself smiling: all that crap… are all irrefutable? What if I was doomed to—”
“Shane, don’t—”
“I’ve tried… I’ve tried so hard every day of my life, (Y/n).” Shane's voice cracks, “I just… don’t wanna be a screw-up anymore.”
"Shane, you are not a screw-up," you demur, reaching out a hand to stroke his soft bicep, "You're just… human. You've already taken huge steps by just acknowledging your screw-up-ness and reaching out for help. And yeah, you have been trying, every single day. That's bravery, Shane. That's strength! I'm tired of you being the only one who doesn't see that."
The following silence is only interrupted by the distant chirping of crickets. Shane's eyes wearily scan your face for some kind of tell, as if your response was an inauthentic prank meant to lull him into a false sense of security. The bags under his eyes are shadowed and heavy. Your heart swells. “Repeat after me—”
“(Y/n), please—” pleads Shane.
“Mister Shane Andrew Miller, repeat after me!”
“Yes, Ma'am,” He chuckles, wiping away a stray tear.
“I, Shane, am a strong, brave, and amazing person; and I am going to be okay.”
“I’m a strong, brave, amazing person… and I'm gonna be okay.”
“Louder!”
“I'm gonna be okay!” He shouts— hands cupped around his mouth to bellow into the sleeping farm. After a nervous chuckle, Shane resigns to a slouch as he looks towards you with a blush warming his cheeks.
“Feel a little better?”
“I feel like a jack-ass,” Shane mumbles,“But yeah, a little.”
“Good,” you reach your hand out to caress his cheek, your thumb tracing patterns in his stubble when he leans into the touch, “and you only looked a little like a jack-ass.”
“Fuck off,” Shane laughs, the banter bringing a familiar light to his eyes, as he shoves your hand away playfully.
You both stay like that for a moment after the laughter dies down, embraced by the warmth of each other's silent company— one of you occasionally turning to retell the latest town gossip, or reference an inside joke neither of you can remember the origins of.
“I should, uh, be heading back now,” Shane moves to stand up, groaning as he stretches his legs, “Penny's taking the kiddo to the community centre tomorrow for some arts and crafts, and I gotta be up early to pack her lunch.”
You look up at his looming form, only now realising how long you had both been out here for.
“Of course, no worries,” you clumsily rise to your feet as your lips quiver with a tentative grin, a delicate curve that hovers on the precipice of expression. “Um, tell Jas I say ‘Hi’, okay?”
“Sure thing,” Shane replies, the awkwardness palpable, “Night, (Y/n),”
“Goodnight,” you raise your hand in a half-hearted wave as you watch his slouching figure turn to leave.
He makes it a couple steps, barely out of reach, before a surge of courage propels you forward. Reaching out to grasp the sleeve of Shane’s frayed hoodie before doubt can inhibit your impulsion, you pull him towards you.
Your lips crash on his in a rush of fervent emotion. One of Shane’s calloused hands instinctively rises to the nape of your neck; the other wraps around your waist as he pulls you closer, desperately. Bodies flush against each other as his fingers tangle in your hair.
A tingling sensation runs through your body. You reach up to gently cup his face as he deepened the kiss, his trembling lips continue moving against yours with a gentle urgency. In this moment, nothing else matters - no worries or fears, no past or future, no moon or stars.
Your heart races as you both pull away.
“To be clear, if this is, like, a pity thing or whatever,” Shane mumbles, his lips tickling your own as he attempts to catch his breath. “That’s um– that’s fine by me, I don’t… I wasn’t expecting this.”
“No that wasn’t… um,” You rest your forehead on his, closing your eyes as you attempt to calm your frantically beating heart, “I just… wanted to kiss you.”
Shane laughs as he brings both hands to your face, cupping your cheeks as he kisses you once more. This was different, however: gentle, soft, yet just as vulnerable. You look up at him, eye’s shining with the light from the stars, as you admire the softness of his usually stern features.
“You were right, this was a nice night to stargaze.”
281 notes · View notes
damn-stark · 5 months
Note
Omg daddy choso??? Sign me in please please do it!! We want a request on that
She’s mine
Tumblr media
Warning- FLUFF!!!! HEART MELTING FLUFF!!
————
“Choso,” the doctor calls his name even though he had zoomed to the door the moment he heard it open. “You can come in now.”
She offers him a tiny smile and barely gets to move aside before he’s shoving past her to see you and his newborn after he was kicked out—no after he was dragged out of the room by his little brother after you had some complications that the doctors needed to tend to without him in the room. So let’s just say he was impatient, and if he wasn’t part curse he probably would’ve suffered something with how stressed he was.
“Y/N?” Choso calls out impatiently even if the monitors in the room confirm that your heart is still beating.
“Choso,” you call back behind the current. “I’m okay. We’re okay.”
When Choso reaches the curtain blocking him from reaching you he yanks it forcefully to the side and only lets his poor thumping heart ease back to normal the moment his eyes lie on you.
“Y/N,” he gasps and rushes over to take your face in his hands and take you in as if he had gone years without seeing what you looked like.
“Cho,” you whisper and grab one of his hands. “I’m fine now, I am.” You laugh softly and then beam at him. “Look, look at what we made.” You coo and look down at the little bundle in your arm.
Choso slowly follows your line of gaze and gasps and freezes the moment he sees the little baby he’s been impatient to meet ever since you told him you were expecting his baby, whilst his once steady heart begins to work overtime once again as he admires the most precious thing he’s ever seen; his baby. The baby he made with you.
He can’t believe it. He can’t believe that all his waiting has finally led to this exact moment of having his own child in the world.
“Do you want to hold her?” You ask him and move her closer to him, but Choso steps back and looks at you with his eyes glossy and expressing his disbelief and awe.
“I don’t know how,” he whispers and holds his hands out in front of him. “What if I drop her? I don’t want to hurt her.”
You share a small laugh and look at him with even more admiration. “Oh, my love, you won’t hurt her. And it’s not hard, I can help you. Just come here. Hold her, she wants to meet you.” You giggle.
Choso holds your gaze for a few more seconds to build up his confidence, and once he sees that you’ve brought the baby closer to him he steps forward and slowly lowers his eyes to look at the chubby little baby, and swallows thickly.
“You’ll be cradling her so just—yes,” you praise him as he mimics the way you have your arms bent. “Just like that perfect.”
You slowly lower the baby in his arms and once you feel his grip secured on the baby, you slowly pull your arms back. “Just be careful with her head,” you remind him.
Once Choso can no longer feel the warmth of your hands over his helping him secure the baby, the moment he sees you rest your hands over your stomach he focuses on the baby finally in his arms and acknowledges the small little weight in his arms and his breath catches while his eyes get overwhelmed with tears.
“Oh, Choso,” you muse and beam at him.
Choso’s shoulders begin to shake and streams of tears begin to flow down the curve of his cheeks as he feels the warmth of his child, his baby girl in his arms.
He’s felt paternal love before, he’s the oldest brother after all, so he’s felt paternal love besides brotherly love for his brothers, but this? This felt different. He can’t even put into words what he’s feeling upon seeing his baby girl.
He feels an endless amount of bliss, he feels truly euphoric, and he feels disbelief that he's holding something so precious that he made. Him! A half curse!
It feels almost like he’s unworthy to have this little blessing.
“Isn’t she so beautiful?” You interject quietly as you watch Choso holding your baby. “You made that, my love.”
Choso’s eyes drift to you and a wobbly smile tugs on his lips.
“Our baby,” you muse.
Choso looks back at the baby and notices her scrunching her little nose, and furrowing her thin little eyebrows. “Oh,” he gasps and turns to face you. “I think she doesn’t want me.”
You giggle and shake your head. “Just talk to her, let her know it’s you.”
Choso looks at you unsure and then looks back at his baby and exhales deeply hoping you’re right. “Hello,” he whispers very, very quietly. “It’s okay….it’s just me.”
You smile and look at Choso with awe.
“I won’t hurt you,” he continues with more confidence. “I’ll never hurt you. I’ll never let anyone hurt you. You’re my little blessing.” He says and pulls one hand out to carefully caress the baby’s warm cheek with his finger, causing tears to escape from your eyes.
“See, she just needed to hear your voice,” you assure him and reach over to give his arm an assuring squeeze as you see the baby slowly relax again as her father's voice travels in her ears.
“Thank you,” Choso whispers and looks at you. “For giving me this opportunity. Thank you for our little blessing. I’m glad that I get to share this with you. Thank you. I love you.”
You cry softly and he leans over to press a gentle kiss on your lips before he sits down next to you so you can admire the little baby in his arms together.
741 notes · View notes
earthtooz · 1 year
Text
. . . LOVE ME HARDER !
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
in which: it's been two weeks. you have a resignation letter in hand and a grumpy itoshi sae who is not at all pleased at your decision.
˗ˏˋ masterlist series: first part | next part ´ˎ˗
collab series ft. sixosix earthtooz aanobrain . . . !
warnings: gn!manager!reader, pining, reader and sae r in their 20s, tension, so much pining, unedited towards the end but that's bc i have no time AHH.
Tumblr media
"are you sure?"
you stare sadly at the two weeks resignation letters in your boss’ hand, blinking once, then twice as a heavy feeling of regret sinks in your chest, further powered by the jumbled thoughts in your brain, screaming at you to say both ‘yes’ and ‘no’. with an exhale, you listen to your heart and nod your head decisively.
“i’m sure,” you affirm. sae’s face flashes briefly in your mind and you cringe internally at the look of betrayal you can see so clearly. still, you grit your teeth and don’t back out.
“we can give you a raise or extra company benefits if that’s more motivation to stay?” instinctively, a materialistic part of you is ready to give in to the offers, but the rational part of you begs otherwise. “we haven’t had a worker like you who has been able to cooperate with sae this well.”
“thank you for the opportunity, sir, but i think it’s time to move on.”
your boss gives you a pointed look before putting down your papers with a sigh. “if that’s the case then i can’t stop you. you were a good asset, y/n, good luck with your future endeavours.”
with a thank you, you make your way out of the office, a heavy dread settling in your chest as you think about how sae would take this news. how would you tell him? you’re not that heartless that you’d just leave without letting him know but what would you say? ‘hey these are my last two weeks as your manager, lol’.
“you’re late,” a voice interrupts your thoughts and you snap back into reality, greeted with the face of itoshi sae, his usual apathy masking the subtle displeasure you can hear in his tone. you ignore the way your heart jumps simply at the sight of him. 
maybe putting in those resignation forms was for the best.
“sorry. had to speak to management,” you mutter out. 
the magenta-haired athlete narrows his eyes in suspicion but before he could ask you another question, you sit down in front of him and open up your diary with the schedule for the day. “okay. let’s see what needs to get done today.”
you ignore the way sae stares at you like he has something to say and you hope he’s not observant enough to see that you’re avoiding looking him in the eye as much as possible because you’d know your heart would give out from the pressure. 
two weeks. two more weeks and you’ll escape itoshi sae forever, no matter how much you don’t want to.
***
you’re on the sidelines where sae is practising, furiously typing out an email on your laptop when your name gets called out, the voice coming from the entranceway of the field. it’s your boss but there’s a man of average height right behind him, dressed smartly with glasses and equipment fit for an office worker. 
he must be sae’s new manager after you’re gone. bless him.
straightening up, you close the lid of your laptop before setting it aside, getting up to greet him with a small hop in your step. you ignore the way sae has stopped practising at the entrance of someone new. feeling of his inquisitive gaze burning into your every move lingers as you approach the visitors. 
“y/n, this is girolan dabadie, he’ll be sae’s manager after you leave,” your boss states, gesturing to the man behind who gives you a humble wave, paired with a friendly smile. oh poor soul. you can tell he does not have the guts to work with sae.
then again, not a lot of people do. you included, which is why you’re resigning.
“hi, i’m y/n, pleasure to meet you.”
“pleasure to meet you too,” he says.
“we just thought it’d be nice for girolan here to get prepared with the ropes of his role before being thrown in the deep end next week.”
“of course, i’ll be more than happy to get you started, it is a tough job after all,” you say lightheartedly despite the last part being a sugarcoating of how truly draining it is to be sae’s manager.
and, speaking of the devil, you don’t like the way your gut churns, turbulent waves settling in your stomach in a way that makes you feel funny when you look sae in the eye. he’s staring at you so very intensely that if you hadn’t looked away immediately after, you suspect you would have combusted on the spot. there are questions that he wants answer to and judging by the glimpse of betrayal in his eyes, you can tell that it is not going to be a conversation you’ll like having. 
for now, you grit your teeth and put on a professional front. this is why you were leaving, because sae looks at you too casually, too much, and you, similarly, know him too much, too casually. 
leaving the training field, you can’t help but feel like you’re also leaving something meaningful behind.
“everyday you need to have the player’s schedules. most of them have promotions which you need to manage, so for example, sae has a shoot for adidas abibas next week. all you have to do is go to the shoot with him and foresee everything, the set managers there have that all under control, the only thing you need to control is itoshi sae himself,” you tell girolan halfway into the tour, now in your office space where you had schedules hung up everywhere. “these cabinet files are full of contracts, tax files, cash flows, all of the stuff that i have no doubt you’re familiar with.” 
“all of these just for itoshi sae?” girolan asks, looking at the stacks of paper on your desk. 
you sigh, slumping. “that’s what happens when you manage one of the most in-demand soccer players. don’t tell anyone but, it’s easier to manage the whole team than sae himself.”
eventually, the tour continues and you lead him through the rest of the spaces that he should know by heart. when you think you’re done with the introduction, it’s around 4:30, and you see girolan out to the main entrance. 
“any questions? you can have my contact so that if you have any queries or concerns, you can reach out to me over the week,” you say, handing the new manager your card.
“i appreciate the crash course today, but admittedly i’m still a little nervous,” girolan confesses, “i mean, i saw first hand just how busy you are… any personal advice for the job?”
“just… good luck. it’s a handful but it’s a good experience nevertheless. at the end of the day, i’m more grateful for this role than i am not.” 
“if that’s the case, why are you leaving?”
you widen your eyes, unprepared for that question. girolan catches on to your shock and immediately begins to apologise, afraid that he’s overstepped. “no, no, it’s okay, it’s a valid question. i’m leaving for personal reasons, ones that i can’t really go into.”
“i see.” 
after that, you briefly say goodbye to one another, exchanging pleasantries before he leaves the building. you sigh in relief, looking down at your watch to see that you only had 20 minutes now to catch up on the outstanding work you left behind, an incredibly unrealistic time limit. you can already tell you’re going to work overtime tonight.
before you can dwell too much on that fact, a voice pops up from behind you.
“personal reasons?”
you turn around to see sae leaning against a wall behind you, completely unimpressed and disappointed. you hate it when he looks at you like that.
“yes, sae, for personal reasons,” you mutter, hardening your defences before walking past him. that doesn’t shake him off though, nothing ever does.
“and what personal reasons could that be?” he asks, not batting an eye to being waved off by you like that.
you walk a little faster. “they are personal reasons, sae, meaning that they’re none i should ever tell you.”
pushing open the door to your office with more force required, you don’t see the way sae flinches slightly at your outburst, furrowing his brows at how uncharacteristic you were acting. he doesn’t shy away though, following you into your office. you continue sorting through papers like he’s not there and that irks him even more.
“but how could you not tell me? i thought you resigning would be an important topic to bring up sooner rather than later.”
“i didn’t think you’d care.”
“so?” he spits. “i would rather you tell me than me finding out myself by seeing some random who is apparently my new manager.”
you cringe at his words. “okay well, i’m resigning as your manager. happy? be nice to girolan.”
sae groans. “were you just going to let me find out by myself in a week if today hadn’t happened? were you ever going to tell me?”
you shrug, punching some holes through some papers before adding them to an (already filled) binder. “maybe.” 
sae grabs your wrist and you jump from the contact, as if his touch was lava and burns. the magenta-haired doesn’t miss your reaction, in fact, he narrows his eyes at you when he notices. you make the mistake of looking him in the eye and the churn in your stomach is back, heart skipping a beat as your hand goes limp in his.
this must be what they call a ‘moment’ in the movies, because you’re definitely having one right now, and it’s getting harder to keep your resolve up. 
“sae, please leave. i’m trying to finish up these tasks before the day ends and you’re really disturbing me,” you grumble, trying not to let your voice waver. glancing away from sae, you slip your wrist out of his grasp and step away, creating some distance.
“is it something i did?” he asks. “if you’re not leaving because of the job itself then it must be the person, right? did i do something to upset you?”
“why do you care?”
“i have every right to, you’re my manager.” 
“i won’t be in a week.”
“that’s a week away, you are still my manager right now and i want to know why it is you’re leaving.”
“can you not take the hint, sae? i don’t want to tell you!” you exclaim, shutting the filing drawer with a little more force than necessary.
“i won’t leave until you tell me.”
“you will actually hate me if i tell you.”
“i will hate you if you don’t tell me.”
“well then it doesn’t matter.”
“yes it does. if you’re just gonna leave me behind then i can’t see why you can’t tell m-”
“-if i tell you will you leave?” you snap. the silence is deafening, with sae widening his eyes in shock at your outburst. he nods firmly. “i like you. in more than a professional way. that’s why.”
turning around to the filing cabinet again, you reach out to pull the drawer with shaky hands, a racing heart, and a swirling stomach. 
“now that i’ve told you, could you please leave?” you omit to tell him that you can’t look him in the eye. not anymore now that you’ve effectively ruined whatever-was-going-on between you and the star athlete.
footsteps echo behind you, drawing near with each click of sae’s shoes. you stiffen when they stop right behind you and there’s a moment of quiet, allowing you to hear sae shuffle behind you, a hesitant hand reaches out to cover yours, gently pulling it away from the cabinet to turn you around instead.
you don’t look him in the eye, glancing at every inch of the walls in your office just to avoid him. sae frowns at your evasion.
“can you look me in the eye so i don’t sound stupid saying what i’m about to say?” he asks, a little gentler than his usual, demanding tone, but still cold enough that your gaze cuts to meet his.
“you always sound stupid,” you mutter without thinking. 
sae scrunches his face in judgement. “seriously? i was gonna say something you’d like to hear to. way to go for ruining it.” 
“what, no! tell me!”
“i don’t think you deserve to know anymore, stupid.”
“hey! if i had to tell you then it’s only fair if-”
“-i like you too.”
that zips you up and a glimpse of mirth shines in sae’s eyes, paired with an almost-unnoticeable quirk of his lips upward. 
“you do?” you stammer in disbelief. 
“yeah.” 
“oh.”
“yeah.”
there’s a pregnant silence between you two. no one ever really tells you what to do in scenarios like this, and the one time you’d like to use your brain and not embarrass yourself in front of sae, your mind decides to see itself out. “that’s… cool.”
“that’s all you have to say?”
“what, do you have more to add?”
“not really apart from inviting you to dinner with me.” 
“when?”
“tonight.”
“tonight?” you parrot. “i can’t, i have so many tasks left to finish!”
“just leave them behind.”
“i can’t! i should get them done before i leave.”
“you leave in a week, then none of these tasks are your problem anymore.”
“that’s really not the best way to think about this, sae.”
“so thank goodness you’re my manager and not someone else.”
you narrow your eyes at him, immediately knowing what he was implying. “don’t think that this is a reason for me to stay being your manager. in fact, i’d argue that i now have more reasons to quit.” 
with a ‘tch’, the soccer player rolls his eyes. “okay whatever, we’re grabbing dinner and that’s final.” he threads your hands together. “c’mon, sweets, let’s go.”
1K notes · View notes
mmelionsblog · 6 months
Text
First time [Mike Schmidt x Reader]
“ and the first time that you kissed me,
I drank dry the river lethe”
Tumblr media
Mike’s heart was beating rapidly. Today was the day. The day that he’d add more into the Schmidt family, a fellow member. He fixated on his fingers, his eyes going haywire as they looked towards your side of the church and as to his side. He gulped, as he looked at your mom, and your siblings. They were all talking to other family of yours, whispering, then glancing back and fourth at him.
Mike wasn’t close to anyone, so the groomsmen were mostly from your side of the family that he felt closest too. The best man, a cousin of yours, noticed that Mike was starting to have a panic attack.
“Are you okay, Mike?” He questioned into his ear. Mike nodded, half listening to him. “Y—yeah.. sorry I don’t do well with big crowds like this, and to be the center of attention.” The cousin chuckled, “well get used to it. Her family adores her, so everyone is gonna want to talk to the both of you tonight.” Mike nodded slowly. Then, everyone went silent.
The song you picked started to play, his lips turning into a smile. Can’t help falling in love, of course, started to play as soon as you got into view. There is already tears falling down the poor man’s cheeks. Your dad was seen next to you holding your forearm carefully, while your hand rested on top of your dad’s.
He could hear crying on the other side of him, your cousin was just as worse as he (and apparently your whole family too). The best man patted Mike’s back, toughening up when you got close up. Mike smiled widely, picking up your veil that covered the beauty of your face. You were stunning.
Mike stopped breathing as soon as his eyes locked in with yours. Your hand in his. This is really happening, he thought.
Mike simply couldn’t hold it in any longer. He broke down, in front of you, and in front of everyone that is witnessing the wedding. “Mike?” You whispered, placing your hand onto his cheek. “M sorry,” he sniffled with a small smile. “M just in my feels right now,” he shrugged off his emotions, coughing and then looking up to the priest that was standing in the middle. Then, the wedding continued.
As the priest went on and on and on rambling, Mike couldn’t help but remember the simple times where it was just him and you, and Abby.
The first time you kissed him, he couldn’t believe it. After all these years alone, he himself had thought he’d die alone. He’d rot alone. Abby, the only one in his life, taking care of him as he got older.
The first argument, he thought he’d lose you. He was the first one to say sorry to you. He was sure you didn’t want him after the way he yelled at you, scared of the actions of what Mike’s done. But you were already in his arms washing away the worried face Mike had.
The first time you both had sex, god Mike was in a complete mess afterwords. He had never felt so good in his life, you had completely changed him after Mike had put himself inside of you. To him, if he ever lost you, he doesn’t think he’d ever feel the same way with anyone else after you. So, he can’t lose you. Whatsoever. At all.
“Now you will repeat after me,” the priest says. The two of you were so lost in thought that both of you didn’t hear anything he had said. “Hello?” The priest sang jokingly. “Anyone home?” He snapped his fingers in front of both of your faces, then the two of you had been brought back into reality. Laughter filled the church and echoed could be heard. “I’m sorry, what?” Mike nervously spoke. “You two are really in love,” the priest laughed.
“Now both of you will repeat after me,” he looked at you two in the eyes this time. “I [Name] [Last name] take you, [NAME], to be my [wife/husband]. I promise to be faithful to you, in good times and in bad, in sickness and in health, to love you and to honor you all the days of my life. [Partner two repeats this vow.] Bless, O Lord, these rings which we bless in your name.” The priest spoke.
Mike inhaled, and exhaled. “I, Mike Schmidt, take you, [NAME], to be my wife. I promise to be faithful to you, in good times and in bad, in sickness and in health, to love you and to honor you all the days of my life. Bless, O lord, these rings which we bless in your name.” He finished. You copied after him.
The priest smiled widely. “And now will the ring bear come over?” He called out, a little boy around the age of five came out, handing over the rings to Mike. Mike placed the ring onto your ring finger, and you placed his onto his own. Your hands both holding each other afterwords.
“Mike Schmidt,” the priest spoke. “Do you take [NAME] [LAST NAME] to be your wedded wife, to live together in marriage? Do you promise to love her, comfort her, honor and keep her for better or worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and health, and forsaking all others, be faithful only to her, for as long as you both shall live?”
Mike looked like the happiest man on earth in front of you. “I do.” Gasps and giggles could be heard in the church.
“[NAME] [LAST NAME], Do you take Mike Schmidt to be your wedded husband to live together in marriage? Do you promise to love him, comfort him, honor and keep him for better or worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and health and forsaking all others, be faithful only to him so long as you both shall live?”
Your almost new husband looked at you with complete awe, and your heart skipped a beat. “I do.” You said. “And now, everyone’s favorite part!, I pronounce you husband and wife.” The priest spoke. “You may now—” Mike did not hesitate to place his lips on yours, his hands resting on your white dress near your hips. “Kiss the bride..” the priest said with a chuckle.
A/N: this is so corny and cheesy but idc bc I love Mike Schmidt
465 notes · View notes
m1ssunderstanding · 3 months
Text
Get Back Rewatch 55 Years On: Day 13
Ah it’s “coordinate with the carpet” day.
John could probably say “2+2=3” and Paul would be like “Oh you're sooo right, John.”
Literally the ADHD antics (jumping over a chair because it’s there and you can and it would be funner than going around) are so relatable.
Ringo putting Zac’s picture up? I don’t know much about him as a dad. Does anyone know? I mean I know part of the reason he and Mo left india was because they missed their kids, and in late 66 when John was making HIWTW and Paul was working on TFW and George was off learning filthy eastern ways, Ringo stayed home and ‘enjoyed the baby’. Was he a really good dad?
Tumblr media
John: I really liked how that lead singer was singing so soft and nice. Paul: like this, John? Like this? John? John, look at me, do you like this?
Literally why are you even there, Yoko. Like, genuinely, not for the bands sake or anything, but for your own sake, go find somewhere else to be! Something, something, one of the few ways to find success as a woman was to attach yourself to a man and she was hustling with the best feminist tools available okay, okay. Ugh, I just don't know if I could stomach it.
Tumblr media
I heard John say “Rickie and the Red Streaks” and I was like, ummm, did you mean “Suzie and the Red Stripes”? But apparently it’s a real band. They were in the same Cavern show as the Beatles when they came back from Hamburg but never made it big. And Paul was purposely referencing them with Linda's pretend band because, as he said, he would have been happy to just have been them instead of the Beatles. 
“John, can you take a little bit of bass off your guitar?” The faces. Paul told him to take some bass off a minute ago, didn't he? Or he just knows how much John hates to be told that. Anyway it's the silent communication for me.
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Paul: *stops his little wordless moan-singing for two seconds*. John: Everybody had a wet drea–SING, Paul! Paul: Ooohh yeah! He’s sooo happy I’m melting. Paul McCartney wants one thing in this life, and it’s for John Lennon to tell him to sing.
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
“He would’ve been president, you know.” John, bless your naive, lovely heart. 
Paul: shrieking. John: moves the microphone the way a mom takes the sharpie out of her toddler’s hand. 
“If you can get ‘em off Mimi’s wall.” I have a hard time with Mimi. Sometimes she’s adorable. Sometimes she’s horrible. I really can’t get a read. And maybe that was the problem. Maybe John couldn’t either. 
This moment. My little ND baby. Someone just hit your g spot, didn’t they? But to be fair, it is incredibly impressive. Billy has never heard the song before, and he just jumps in with the perfect fill? I love Billy. So talented, such a cutie, so cool, so kind. And look at him. Having such a good time.
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
The silent communication again here. “Are you hearing this?” “Yeah, baby, I’m hearing this.” Then, John vocalizes the decision. How many Beatles decisions were made like this? Thinking specifically of Brian's account of their decision for him to manage, but probably this happened constantly. 
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Yoko reading “The Beatles Complete History”. I love that she’s like, “Everything John tells me is ‘Paul this, Paul that, wah, wah, wah’. I need to get some cold hard facts.” 
Billy’s piano actually is insanely sexy though.
John: *complains about his rock and roll finger* Paul, turning up the scouse: Come on, son, now try your hardest. John continues, soft, needy' Lookie, look at him. *holding up his finger* Paul, genuine: Ah, I know. I just love the different ways they take care of each other. 
Poor George, dissociating himself into another dimension as John’s crooning about Paul’s eating habits. Look. At. How. He’s. Looking. At. Him. You’d think Paul was in that moment creating the heavens and the earth. Nope. Just rocking back and forth like a catatonic, probably getting crumbs all in his greasy beard.
Tumblr media
But seriously HOW is everyone in this room watching these two men, taking in to account all of their behaviors, scream "All I want is you!" at each other and not forcing them immediately into either fucking or therapy or both?!
Ringo’s holey pocket, my beloved. 
Tumblr media
The guy with the RP accent and the suit coming up to John like the bad guy in every American children’s movie. “I’ve spoken to Mr. Klein.” Dun, dun, dun.
138 notes · View notes
desparaic · 27 days
Text
Imagine Rengoku's son traveling to the past pt.2
Rengoku X Fem! Reader
Also in the future, there’s a long pause after red light arc. Hence tengen already retired in Future Son’s timeline. and [spoiler alert] yes we will absolutely ignore the mark curse
read part 1 here.
“Oh, what breathing technique do you use?”
You ask your…. son? kid? dang you never thought you would be able to say that to a teenager this early in your life, especially when you’re not long into the marriage
“Flame breathing!” He says with a proud grin (why this kid so cute you wanna coddle him to death)
“Following your father’s footstep, I see! Did he teach you personally?” You smile, thinking about your husband teaching your son swordsmanship. Ugh the thought of it makes your heart melt.
“Nope. From Grandfather!”
h
huh?
tafa???
Grandfather??? Like Rengoku’s father??? Your father in law???? The man who can’t even get up and do something else other than drinking and yelling at other people?????
He taught your son flame breathing?????
You are confusion
You ask why didn’t his father teach him instead
“… Anyway! Do you want to spar?”
This kid—
okay, well, clearly he doesn’t want to talk about it. Maybe he’s on bad terms with his father???
But you can’t imagine Kyojuro being a bad father or someone who has a tense relationship with his kids. The last thing he wants to be is to be like his father. You know that. He himself told you that before.
So maybe he’s just in the middle of an argument with his father??? Like… a really long one…
yeah that could be it
So you decide to spar with him (you don’t have anything else to do anyway other than walking around the nearby village)
you kick his butt
It feels refreshing and fun. not because you’re beating your future child.
You never have this feeling sparring with anyone before. It’s cute. You’re experiencing a mother-son time except…. you ain’t a mother yet… but you are— will??? idk
In the middle of sparring (how many rounds has it been??), Kyojuro appears with a big grin, before it fades and he tilts his head confusedly.
“MY LOVE! WHO IS THIS PERSON??”
Hooo boy
Both of you whip your head to see him
“HE LOOKS JUST LIKE ME! HAHAHA!”
Bless your husband, he isn’t even phased that there’s a rando lookin like he’s his clone
BUT YOU HECKAAA EXCITED, about to tell Kyojuro that he’s—
You see your (future) son’s conflicted face contorted to anger, then calm. “Ah. I’ll take my leave right now. I’m thirsty.”
He leaves just like that.
You’re confused
has future you ever taught him manners
Is… Was the argument that bad????
Poor Kyojuro is so confused, looking at the boy leaving.
“Who was that young fellow?”
You explain that that’s his son
His face shows a split second of surprise before it immediately switches to excitement
(he doesn’t even ask how that’s possible like ok)
“HE’S MY SON??? OH WHAT JOY! S/O. THAT IS OUR SON!”
Yes, yes you just told him that of course you know lol
But you’re so confused as to why your son would just leave like that. You honestly expect him to be just as excited to see his dad like he did with you
and so
the chaos and conflicts and confusion and everything related ensues
Practically everyone knows your future son is here
They’re dying to meet him
Uzui is proud of what he has become. Man’s flamboyant. can even take a hard pat on his back! (he nearly died)
Mitsuri is so excited!!! She keeps giving him sakura mochi and all other snacks and talks to him a lot!!! Sees him as her lil bro ngl (tho technically it should be nephew)
Shinobu too is very sweet towards him and tells him he’s welcome anytime to the Butterfly Estate to just have tea and chat (every time they interact your son’s face turns tomato red. does he have a school boy crush????)
Tomioka is just happy the boy talks to him often
its cute. you can tell he admires the water hashira a lot
Sanemi scoffs and thinks he still has a long way until he is strong
like who tf think does this kid think he is
but he supposes the kid has potential
Obanai acknowledges him and greets him even though he scares your son sometimes
Gyomei. Cats. lots of pats. lots of fluff. nuff said
Muichiro always forgets his name
Tanjiro is super shocked but is happy to get along with Rengoku’s future son!! Nezuko takes a liking to him immediately and warms up to him (Zenitsu seething rn)
surprisingly inosuke oddly silent around him at first…. before he inevitably challenges him to a fight
The son ofc know who they all are (he still does not like young Zenitsu)
Also, he nearly spilled Tanjiro and Kanao’s future relationship oops ig at the present they aint tgt yet 🤷‍♂️
They all think he’s great!
But… there is one thing for sure
And what confuses them the most
is that he absolutely hates the mention of his father
Whenever someone brings up the fact he looks just like Rengoku or they compare the father and son, boy gets real upset and angry
Like??? huh???
You’d thinking a kid would be proud to have someone like Rengoku as their father
Apparently not
Kyojuro catches on to this.
I mean, its hard not to tell that every time he approaches the boy, he just pretends the hashira never exist
Kyojuro kinda concerned and worried
And frankly, he’s kinda sad too.
He wants to spend his time with his future son before who knows when he’ll return back to his time!
Eventually, Rengoku catches him a place where the kid can’t escape easily
He asks the kid what is wrong and what is really going on
Dang… it really hurt seeing your own kid (even though technically not yet) glaring at you like that
The kid only grumbles excuses and that’s it
Kyojuro gently tries to push him to open up
Really wants to know what’s going on poor man please give him a break
“I can tell you don’t like to converse with me… why is that? I would love to get to know my own son!”
Rengoku Kyojuro would never expect that sentence would completely make his own future kid snap.
“Son??? Hah. Sure.”
???????????
The??? Audacity???
My man Kyojuro isn’t even phased (again, bless his patient heart) he’s just confused
What does that mean?
“Did… I do something…?”
“Something???? Something…?????” the boy clenched his jaw, “Don’t act like you care.”
… But he does tho.
At this point the flame hashira just wants to know what he did wrong to make him so mad
“Oh, you really wanna know what you did?” He says in such a bitter tone. Whatever Kyojuro did, he musta pissed him reeaaal off.
“Y…Yes…?”
“… Fine. Not like it’ll change anyway considering how easily you threw us away.”
p-
pardon?
“You hurt Mother. You left her when she needed you the most. You left us! Because you think your job is better than this little family!”
….huh?
“I’m… I’m sorry, I don’t und-“
“When she needed you the most, you just up and left her! Just like that! What do you think I’ll feel about that, huh?”
Kyojuro… did that? He can’t even fathom leaving you for a split second! What was future him thinking?
“You left Mother! When I was still… When she was still pregnant and needed you… You chose to go on a mission instead of being there for her!”
“Do you know how much my mother begged you not to go? How she endlessly express her worries and concerns, even though she never doubted you before??”
“Do you know how much it hurt her when you promised her nothing will happen, only for some crow to announce that you died in a fight with an Upper Moon, a fight you could’ve avoided! A FIGHT THAT YOU SO SELFISHLY WENT ON AND JUST DIED?!”
Hold on…
Hang on—
What?
—————————
I was supposed to finish this all in one post, but I reached the limit… Gonna post part 3 soon
79 notes · View notes
kneelingshadowsalome · 8 months
Note
kind of angsty and maybe a bit too cruel but,,, vampire hunter könig with vampire engel who he only allows to feed when she does things the way he wants her to?
i feel like in a way he would pretend that he doesn't actually understand how much she needs blood and how strong the urge to feed is, how it's unlike food for humans and the effects of starving could be much worse for her
like she could be crying and shaking and telling him that it just feels so bad, it's borderline painful and könig is just like "well you were being bad, liebling :( you know i have to do this"
although when he does let her feed she's only allowed to drink his blood and not allowed to call him out on the fact that he very obviously enjoys it
Oh my god poor Engel?? Whatever has she done to deserve such a cruel master?
But of course she’s drawn to him, far more powerful than any vampire she has ever seen, which is simply an insult to the laws of nature because he’s a mortal… And yet he seems to possess the strength of a 400-year-old vampire and the will of an entire mountain, Engel is just smitten, watching him from afar night after night, playing around with the thought of having a taste of that mesmerizing, cruel man who seems to hunt her kind purely for sport.
He takes the villager's money and gets blessed by the priest, but he’s far from a holy warrior. Oh no, she knows that look: it’s the same piercing stare a vampire has just before he’s about to feed.
That man is not here to do God’s work, he’s not here to help, he’s here to feast. Still, the brutal knife strapped to his thigh never makes her shiver. Not even the wooden stakes he carves out of white oak strike fear in her cold, dead heart. No, she’s basically quivering with the need to sink her little teeth in his neck and see if this big alp of a man would moan.
-
And one night, König does wake up to the feeling of a woman’s cold mouth on his throat, a mouth that turns hot the minute she draws blood. He should be alarmed, realizing in an instant what’s going on but not being able to help the fact that he’s getting hard, that his arms slowly rise to lock around her waist. She gets scared – do Nachzehrers even get scared? – and withdraws, and Gott, she’s even more beautiful than in the picture they gave him…
He’s been hunting for over thirty years, leading a lonely life, a brutal life, the acts he’s done slowly distorting him into the crazed madman he’s called nowadays. And sometimes he feels he’s becoming the very thing he hunts, losing himself in the carnage, enjoying the killing – perhaps he has stared into the abyss for far too long...
But this is the most beautiful abyss he has ever seen: frightful eyes shot wide, mouth pretty and red with his blood, lips parted and revealing two pointy, perfect little canines, the prettiest he has ever had to pleasure to behold and, well… he has always wanted a pet.
-
“Don’t stop,” he rasps, and not out of weakness. The man doesn’t look at all like he’s about to faint even though she already took three long gulps from him. He should be getting pale by now, and she doesn’t want to kill him – no, she wants to return to him again and again, try other spots in his body, and then escape just before he can seize and destroy her.
Humans, even the big ones, should not be able to wrestle her down after she has drawn so much blood, but he’s holding her prisoner with ease: the hands around her waist are pure, warm muscle, the body under her is hard and strong and so, so very alive.
She was always told to avoid the hunters because they know much more than the others, she's been warned that they will eventually catch her if she kept playing with them.
She knows she shouldn’t be here but... she just can’t help herself sometimes. And perhaps she kind of did expect to be gripped in an iron hold… perhaps she even yearned to be held by him. But she didn’t expect him to ask for more.
-
Three weeks later, she still hasn’t had enough of him, quite the contrary.
They’re now travelling together, as sick as it sounds – she even has her own coffin, made out of oak too and hauled around in a carriage where König throws his bag of stakes. They make an odd pair, the impale tools and her lonely bed (oh, how she wishes she could sleep with him, or that he could join her in her coffin). The stakes still don't make her shiver, or if they do, then they do so only in the most endearing way.
She thought she would eventually wear him down, that he would become soft and pale and lethargic after being treated like blood cattle. But he doesn’t. If anything, it’s she who’s getting pale and weak. She’s slowly losing her powers from being around him for so long: her sight and hearing only catch König because he has the strongest heart of them all, and he never lets her feed when she wants to. Not even when she needs to.
He wants her frail and begging before she gives it to her, and not even his moans, the pure pristine sounds of pleasure she finally gets, not even the fact that he’s petting her hair while she uses him, not even the thrilling phenomenon that’s happening in his leather pants when she puts her mouth on him is able to satisfy her hunger.
It should be impossible for a vampire to love, but sometimes she catches herself wondering… is she in love with König?
Is she in love with a mortal man who lets out deprived groans and gets an erection from the softest graze of her fangs? Who hunts her kind with a bloodlust that surpasses even the passions of a vampire? Who’s clearly not only insane but also ostracized, hated and feared by his own people?
But the question that haunts her the most as she retreats to her cold coffin while König turns the carriage toward yet another mountain path is: does he even love her back…?
203 notes · View notes
insipid-drivel · 2 years
Text
Southern Colloquialisms To Enrage ESL Bloggers:
I see a few posts asking international and other tumblr bloggers to supply the literal English translations to common colloquial phrases for the sake of the sheer silliness, strangeness, and outright lunacy of what happens when you take a colloquialism and take it literally (Factoid: linguists refer to this process as “Pidgin”)
But what about Southern colloquialisms from the United States that don’t even make sense in their native language? Hello! My great-great grandmother was born in a ditch outside of a mud house with mud floors in the Dust Bowl in the United States and I didn’t know I had a Southern accent until my friends in the Pacific Northwest pointed it out!
I have relatives from all along the Bible Belt, aka the “Old South” that, you know... Yeah. A few of my cousins are awesome people and we trade notes over ridiculous phrases our relatives and elders used that we never understood, but accepted on a spiritual level. Here are some I grew up with:
“Got myself a short cold.” - “I have seasonal allergies and just mowed the lawn.”
“Oh, crap and molasses!” - “I forgot something at home and we’re already almost to our destination and I don’t want to swear in front of polite company and small children.”
“Eating high on the hog tonight!” - “We’re not eating scrap cuts and offal for dinner because steaks were 2-for-1 today.”
“Hoecake” - A form of pancake or “Johnny Cake” made from corn meal instead of flour. They’re delicious.
“Catawampus” or “Cattywampus” - “I’m gonna have to wash that off the ceiling but at least it worked. It’s messy.” 
 “Piddling” and “Piddly” - Any worthless or time-wasting endeavor or result that helps no one. “This paycheck is plum piddly, hoss. Quit piddlin’ ‘round and gimme that re-GI-nal manager’s job y’all know I’m qualified for.”
“Hoss” - “Boss” that you also think could probably beat the crap out of you behind an alley for catching you cheating at pool.
“That boy’s bigger’n a brick shithouse.” - “Your physique and muscular stature is intimidating to the degree that I am complimenting you by comparing you to a solid structure everyone would regret trying to knock down.” 
“Crazier’n a shithouse rat.” - “Dude, please talk to a psychiatrist.”
“Doohickey” - Any object or concept you can’t remember the name of but need urgently. Often accompanied by aggressive hand waving in the approximate direction of said object without actually looking at it.
“Y’all better hush up back there!” - Your grandmother’s polite way of warning you she’s going to take a flyswatter to your ass if you don’t shut the fuck up in Church.
“Y’all’d’ve” - A real contraction I can’t even stop myself from using meaning “You all should/would have” and am leaving here just for the English majors out there. 
“Dude” - A completely urbanized individual who has no idea how to live or function in a rural or wild setting without technology and utilities and can’t ride a horse or milk a cow.
“Proudboy” - Oh yes, it was already a thing. In Southern slang, a “Proudboy” is a neutered male horse that still acts like he’s a badass stallion the mares will want to mate with. “Poor proudboy ain’t noticed yet, bless his heart.” 
“Bless his/hers/your heart.” -  “Because the Good Lord sure didn’t bless your head.” It’s also used as a heartfelt form of “Thank you” when someone goes out of their way to offer you a kind and thoughtful gesture. Context is important.
“Don’t let the door hit ya where the Good Lord split ya.” - “You are no longer welcome in this space and if you don’t leave now I’m literally going to slam the door on your ass.” 
“Living in high cotton” - “I have achieved fiscal success and am using a colloquial term to refer to it without considering the fact that the term originated out of slave plantations.”
“If the creek don’t rise.” - Basically “Knock on wood.” A term meaning, “I’ve prepared for everything but what I can’t prepare for or anticipate and will achieve my goal so long as it is within my power to do it.” Bonus points if you pronounce “creek” as “crick”.
 “Fixin’ to” - Another polite way of indicating you’re about to aggressively undertake a task. “I’m fixin’ to whip ya ass, son.” This is not to be confused with “Fixin’s” singular, which refers to the ingredients or catalysts required to cook or complete something that requires assembly.
“Doesn’t amount to a hill of beans.” - A hill of beans is a Southern unit of measurement for anything that remains worthless regardless of how much of it you have, much like NFTs. “Your anti-TERF ‘sources’ don’t amount to a hill of beans, proudboy.”
“(Way) Over yonder” - “It’s over there, and the number of times I repeat the word ‘way’ prior to ‘over’ is indicative of how much yonder is between you and there. Sorry, what’s a yonder? You just asked me to show you! It’s way, way over there! Bless your heart...”
“Madder than a wet hen.” - “Oops, you have reached ‘yikes’ level of pissed off. Better skedaddle!”
“Skedaddle” - “RUN AWAY FAST NOW AAAAAAAAAAAAAA”
“It’s blowin’ up a storm.” - The sensory indicators of an oncoming heavy storm or hurricane that presents with the smell of ozone, high humidity, and an abrupt drop in temperature. Yes, it’s a thing; I can also smell when a storm’s gathering and it is a distinct set of very subtle odors.
“Pretty as a peach.” - “That individual whose pronouns are irrelevant but is most commonly a woman or proud of rocking a femme aesthetic is exceptionally beautiful and I admire them.” 
“Busy as a cat on a hot tin roof.” - “We’re overburdened and understaffed to the point that I am numb to all forms of communication that don’t involve someone being on fire.”
“Aren’t you precious.” - Not a question unless it begins with “Well,”. Depending on tone, it either is a high compliment toward someone’s appearance or behavior being exceptional, or as a sarcastic response to when someone says something insulting to you. “Awww, you’re so sweet, baby sister!” vs. “That insult was just adorable.” 
“Yes Sir/Ma’am/Mx” - Also applies to “No”. Answering a question with “Sir”, “Ma’am”, or “Mx” to someone that is your age or older is just considered universally respectful in polite conversation. If a Southern person suddenly stops answering your questions with your preferred pronouns or never does at all, it probably means they have 0 respect for you. When the small niceties disappear, you’ve fucked up.
“Frunchard” - “Front yard”, the opposite of the back yard. 
“Quit being ugly.” - “Stop being an asshole.”
“He thinks the sun comes up just to hear him crow.” - “You’re so stupidly full of yourself you’d probably honestly believe the sun rises and sets just for you.”
“That dog won’t hunt.” - “I know you believe it’s a good idea, but uh... it’s not.” Also used in place of replying to a person’s excuse you know is 100% bullshit.
“Well, I declare...” - “I am about to obliquely reveal broad adjectives reflective of my emotional state or opinion about this state of affairs and you should probably prepare yourself for more nonsensical colloquialisms.”
“My eyeballs are floating.” - “I need to pee so badly it isn’t going to be an option very, very soon.”
“Can’t never could.” - “Can’t never could do nothing!” That’s... that’s literally it. I can’t elaborate any more than saying it’s a term indicating you’re feeling optimistic. 
“Give him two nickels for a dime and he’ll think he’s rich.” - “This person’s stupidity is physically painful to experience.”
“That makes me wanna slap my mama!” - “I am so impressed/pleased with that experience that we’ve circled around to domestic violence somehow.” 
“You could start an argument in an empty house.” - “Go to anger management classes.”
“Ain’t got the good sense God gave a rock.” - “I cannot fathom this level of lack of common sense and forethought and require divine intervention immediately.”
“Slicker than pig snot on a radiator.” -  “That person is the Webster’s definition of a scumbag.”
“About as useless as a screen door on a submarine.” - I think that one is pretty self-explanatory.
“There’s not a pot too crooked that a lid won’t fix.” - “There’s someone out there for everyone. Don’t give up on finding love and companionship just because you’re different.”
2K notes · View notes
kimberly-spirits13 · 1 year
Text
Bruce Wanye’s S/O Having a ✨Southern Accent✨
Tumblr media
• What you have to know about the *Southern Accent* is that there’s different versions of it
• There’s the tired one where all the syllables run together, the angry one (similar to the tired one) where it’s just the aggressive loss of syllables mixed with very personal threats, there’s the lack of accent when you’re in certain situations depending on the accents you grew up around, the sweet accent when talking to your elders, that kind of thing
• Depending on how strong the accent is, he’s not going to notice at first
• Like depending on my situation I have no accent or start sounding like a good ole’ southern girl
• When you’re in a meeting he probably doesn’t notice cause you’re not using that good ole southern accent
• Get tired though and you’re throwing syllables together he’s never heard
• You’re in the Batcave looking at footage of Joker
• “I on’t eve-n know what kinda mess this is”
• “Man-ee probly knocked his head fallin inta *that* acid
• He’s doing double takes
• “What did you say?”
• “I said this man’s dumber than a Florida man on 75”
• “What?”
• “HE’S A DUMBASS BRUCE- D U M B A S S“
• That’s when he starts noticing the accent more
• He thinks it’s hilarious when you come back from a long day at work and start off not worrying about annunciations
• “I think imma die fore’ the end-a this”
• He’s tried to copy the accent before
• Bless his heart
• Poor boy couldn’t do it if the world was at stake
• He just sounds like a northern boy struggling
• When you and Clark get going, no one understands you two
• Poor Diana tries to keep up but she just can’t
• Bruce just won’t
• He and the rest of the people there just sit back and watch
• Flash thinks that you have learned to just talk in the speed force
• Nope
• The times where he thinks it’s the funniest is in traffic
• That’s where every southerner starts mouthing off
• “GOOD LORD WHAT IS THIS PERSON DOIN- LORD I HADN’T SEEN A DUMBASS THIS BAD SINCE EVE ATE THAT FRUIT”
• “Sweet merciful Lord- WHAT IS HE DOIN? MOVE”
• “In all my days, I ain ever seen this”
• “I ain ever in my life”
• “I ain ever”
• It just gets shorter and shorter
• He just appreciates it
• He’s always grown up with Alfred being very proper so this is a good change
• Please call him Darlin
• He’ll die
938 notes · View notes
azurevi · 1 year
Text
in a crowd of thousands
aka a collection of ideas for my childhood friends to lovers leona au / aka my headcanons of the entire life of leona kingscholar. jeez
note: am i dumping all my ideas for this au here because they’re too disorganised and messy that i can’t work out anything but i don’t want to just let them go to waste? yes i am. this au has been tormenting me for weeks but my brain just can’t figure how to seamlessly plan it so chances are i’m gonna put it away. it’s not like i laid awake in bed till 4am because i was thinking about it last night anyways lololololol
i did actually write a bit for this au, which you can find at the end of all the points, but it is unedited and was done before the tamashina-mina event so it’s definitely not perfect. i would be happy if it was readable-
this idea dump is 5.8k (god bless), and the attached work is around 4k? so yea
Tumblr media
The story starts when Leona is 8, begrudgingly attending Farena’s coming of age ceremony. Everyone is cheering and celebrating the beloved first prince’s birthday, all the while Leona sulks in the carriage, feeling the acidic jealousy rot in his stomach. He’s never received a celebration this grand in his name before, and he’s certainly never worn something some extravagant, even on his own birthday.
Just as he’s fighting his urge not to jump off of the royal carriage, he’s approached by an eager kid who, judging by appearance, can’t be older than him. they’re putting their short legs to use by chasing the carriage, a bouquet of fresh flowers secure in their grip. Leona thinks at first that it’s yet another present for Farena, but they’re calling for him instead, asking that he take the flowers. So he does, reaching all the way out of the carriage to grab the gift, earning surprised and distraught yells from the guards.
By the time he’s seated and looks back again, they’ve already disappeared in the sea of people.
Leona’s never received anything like this before. People only ever compliment and offer gifts to Farena, fuzzing over his bubbly personality and applauding the grace he presents himself with. Even back when they were faced with their mother’s death from a deadly illness, he was still praised for upholding his dignity and composure, while Leona stood at his side, mourning the death of one of the only people who truly cared about him.
So naturally Leona’s curious about the nameless admirer. And what better way to meet them than to order flowers from each and every florist’s shop in Sunset Savannah to see if they’ll show up for the delivery? It’s a long shot, one that depends entirely on the assumption that they even work at a flower shop and didn’t just buy the bouquet somewhere else. But he’s willing to bet on his luck.
So days passed, Leona’s made like twenty or so orders and his room is filled with foliage, from small pots of plants to tall wide leaves. Kifaji is honestly a bit confused by this, and a lot of guards are saying that he’s throwing an unreasonable tantrum. But never-mind them, because he eventually gets what he wants.
So on a fine early afternoon another delivery comes. This time it’s a whole cart filled with blooms of different colors. Sort of looks like a whole bush has been moved onto it. It’s so huge that he can’t see the person rolling the cart, but then he lolls his head to the side and spots those familiar eyes, the ones he’s been wondering about when he’s wide awake at midnight.
And guess what? They’re excited to see him too. So much so that they topple over and cause the entire cart to fall forward. The bush cascades onto him like a waterfall, but luckily the cart doesn’t crash him, but instead fall backward with a loud CRASH. Kifaji almost has a heart attack at that.
At Leona’s command the retainers and chamberlains leave him alone with the kid, and they get to know each other, like where the kid’s from, why they gave him the flowers etc. Turns out they wanted to thank him for the clothes donation he did for the poor kids living near Elephant’s Legacy a while back then.
Leona doesn’t have the heart to tell them that the donation wasn’t his idea, that he only said ‘whatever’ when the tailor suggested that he gave the ill-fitting outfits to kids in need.
Wanting to spend more time with his new ‘admirer’, he ditches class and sneaks them all around the palace, showing them things that have their eye’s sparkling in awe, but especially his personal achievements. They’re amazed by all of it: where people states that his interest in chess is somewhat boring (even though it’s just because he’s not as energetic and sociable as his brother), they think that it’s cool and smart. Even though he doesn’t like painting as his brother and father do, they don’t judge him for it, but instead agree that spending time in the library reading ancient books is more worthwhile.
Then they move on to talk about magic. Leona is obviously proficient, but they on the other hand actually don’t possess it. At least not yet. So they’re like ‘omg you have a unique magic already can you show me’ and that’s when Leona hesitates. He has endless ways to impress them, but his unique magic has always been something that others frown upon. It’s destructive, it’s messy, and it’s not beautiful. But you insist anyways, and young Leona decides, what the hell, screw it.
And to his surprise, they’re not a bit terrified. Quite the contrary, as you goes off on a tangent talking about how it could come in handy in so many situations.
And that’s the start of a precious friendship! Leona decides to order flowers regularly from their shop alone, and they get to know each other a lot better from there onward.
Tumblr media
Years pass and they’re basically besties now. The young florist visits at least once a week, and the second prince is always more cheery and energised when they’re hanging out.
He tells them all about his life, how his mother had been sick for as long as he could remember and how her death took a toll on him. How Kifaji is pretty much the only chamberlain that doesn’t talk behind his back. How the others do it all the time just because Farena shines far brighter than he does.
The florist talks behind their backs as revenge, and it makes him feel just a bit better. And proud too.
It’s great knowing that someone cares and appreciates him. It makes him want to keep trying.
Similarly they let him into their life. They show them where they live, which is somewhere near the border between the bustling city and the neglected neighbourhoods, the poorer villages that fail to catch up with the Sunrise City and other major cities’ developments. Due to the country’s insistence to uphold the ‘coexistence with nature’ mission, little progress is resulted in those areas, and the disparity is beginning to look like a wide canyon.
Having lived in the palace for most of his life, this is the first time Leona learns of the parts of Sunset Savannah that the royals don’t talk about.
And as a result of the slow, almost stagnant growth of these places, infrastructures are nearly unaccessible. Even if people get sick (and they get sick quite a lot) they don’t get much medical support, at least not nearby.
One of the victims is the florist’s mother— and this is entirely the reason why they need to be working at such a young age. She’s been ill for a long time and is bed-ridden for the better part of a day, so they have to support the family. There is little medicine they can get their hands on, and even if they do get something, nothing really works.
With such a important mission on their shoulder, they’ve never really considered what they wanted to be in the future. The immediate goal was to have their mother get better, and to keep the family business going.
Looking at the ghastly lives of the people is sort of a reality check for Leona. And that’s when he begins to feel an ambition grow inside him.
He wants to change things, because no one in the palace seems to care about the people who are suffering so long as they’re out of sight.
The first time he raises the idea with his father, the king does take his words into consideration, but ultimately decides that it’s more important to preserve the country’s culture. Plus the councillors / politicians etc don’t agree with his views anyways, claiming that he’s too young to understand that ‘some sacrifices have to be made’.
Which is absurd, because he’s looking right at one of the sacrifices right now, and it’s their most important friend, who’s forced to provide for their family all on his own.
Leona doesn’t give up. He goes on learning more about the country he lives in, spends a little more time away from the glorious Sunrise City, and comes up with plans to improve Sunset Savanna. They’re not perfect, most of them are not totally feasible, but at least he’s doing something. Even Kifaji gives him his own opinions at times, unlike the other chamberlains who dislike that he’s trying to upend how the country’s always been operated.
All the while the florist gives him all the support he needs. Even when it feels like the majority of the world is against him at times, with them by his side, he feels invincible, like he can really change the world if he wants to.
Them making flower crowns for him as he works on his projects… that’s it. That’s the image.
Tumblr media
Leona is maybe around 14, 15. His father falls ill (why is everyone sick in this story…) and there is a dire need of a new ruler to watch over the country in his hopefully momentary absence.
A king. Leona’s spent his whole life looking at one, and though he’s far from a mature adult, he tries his hand at politics anyways, hoping that he at least has a shot at becoming one in the near future. But everyone has already had their pick, and it’s none other than Farena. Farena, who rejects Leona’s ideals like everyone else.
“It’s simply too complicated”, he says, but Leona doesn’t see how hard it can be to take a new path.
But he’s still trying, at least for his dear friend. His dear friend, who’s been sticking with him through all the doubts and rejections. His dear friend, who’s promised time after time that they’ll never leave him or turn their back to him. His dear friend, who is there for some of the worst nights he has, comforting him as he winds down from nightmares. His dear friends, who always smells like a walking garden. His dear friend, whom he inevitably falls for.
At the same time, a romance is blooming somewhere else in the palace. Farena has fallen in love with Malaika, and after perhaps a few years of dating on the down low, they are ready to get married. And obviously this is good news. People see this as another indication that Farena will be a great king, seeing as he’s already had so much planned before him.
It’s like they don’t even plan to give Leona a chance.
But as always, his friend somehow sees the better side of things as they always do, telling him not to lose all hope yet.
Sometimes it feels like they’re the only person keeping him going. Would be. sad if they were to. Leave him. (clear throat) Anyways.
In the meanwhile, he decides to take advantage of the wedding. Perhaps the passionate atmosphere can assist him in his own romantic endeavours. Though it’s usually unusual and almost unorthodox for a commoner to attend a royal wedding, they get a pass since Kifaji assigns them to help with the decorations.
And it kind of does. He gets to dance with them, though the music is way too quick for him to really soak in the moment. He gets to see up close how there are stars in their eyes as they watch the bride and groom exchange their vows. Eventually, during dinner, he becomes annoyed by the other guests’ heartless questions about his life and sneaks away with his friend. It ends with a few guards hot on their tails, and in a moment of fight or flight, they dart into one of the empty rooms to hide.
Which just so happens to be the throne room. There’s no one around to berate him anyways, so Leona decides to stride towards the throne and take a seat on the gilded surface, overseeing the now vacant room. There seems to be power infused in this simple throne; the power he needs to make a change in the world, to make the ignorant listen to not just him, but also the demands of the people.
As if that’s not enough, they move to his side and jokingly calls him ‘your majesty’ and his heart does a whole somersault. Even though it’s just for a moment, he feels like he has everything he needs in his hand: the person he loves, and the throne that he so deserves.
And really, he could’ve just told them his feelings there and now, but he’s so caught up in the moment that he decides to postpone it. He’ll have the opportunity to do it in the future anyways. He’s certain that they’ll stay with him till the end of time.
Tumblr media
When the invitation letter from NRC comes, Leona doesn’t bat an eye. There’s nothing the school can teach him that he hasn’t already mastered. Plus he’d rather stay here with his friend than go somewhere else all on his own.
Not to mention he’s busy trying to persuade those in power to agree with his vision about rebranding the country, which has been largely unsuccessful. Farena has been busy attending to other matters, and though Malaika sees where Leona’s coming from, she too is burdened by her share of responsibilities.
Time after time the officials have described his ideas as foolish, irresponsible, unreasonable, as if they still see him as an incapable child. Meanwhile it seems like they go along with everything Farena does, even if it jeopardises the livelihood of those under poverty line. All the while his friend's mother withers away. Watching the impending death looms over them places a knife in his chest. He doesn’t want to see them grief like he did when his mother left.
Leona can’t help but feel frustrated. Years of hard work hasn’t led him anywhere. As a kid he was more often frowned upon than not, but now that he was a teenager he still hasn’t gained the respect he deserves. Projects after projects are banned, to the point where the council members groan every time he shows up to their meetings. His ambition starts to dwindle. It feels like he’s trapped in the same tunnel with no hope of escaping.
Well, except when he’s with the only person who understands him. Even when they’re spending most of their time taking care of their mother now, he still derives strength from the occasional letters exchanged between them. (i loveeeee letters i love epistolary fics)
The pent-up frustration eventually leads him to do something rash: he challenges Farena for the position of Sunset Savanna’s ruler. To anyone else, it sounds like an absurd comedy. Leona— 16 and still growing— is challenging Farena, who not only is a decade older but also has more experiences than he does in managing a country.
I feel like challenges to the throne can go two ways; either they settle this with a physical fight or a peaceful voting. Obviously the former is going to hurt a lot more but I feel like it’ll be more impactful…
So say the rules require them to settle this with a fight. Which now that I think about would be more reasonable because there’s no way Leona will get enough votes anyways. So under a stormy night (for dramatic effects) the two brothers have an inevitable clash, and this isn’t just for the title of king.
It’s also the anguish Leona feels from living in Farena’s shadow all these years. His anger at the unattainable standard he has created for him. His jealousy at all the love that’s been thrown his way, all the attention their father has given him. But also the sadness from having him as a brother, from the lack of connection between them. It’s never really Farena’s fault, more like since the day Leona realized why the guards were more concerned with a paper cut on Farena’s hand than half of his room dissolved into sand, a crack formed in their relationship, and it only grew larger until it’s an impossible canyon.
The ending is written in stone. The guards and Malaika watch on, the spectators sparse and few. They’d rather not have the people know about such dispute within the royal family. The rain washes away the beads of red on the ground, but not the bruises on each of them’s flesh, and certainly not the gaping wounds in their hearts. Even as Leona is pushed to the corner, he doesn’t let himself stay down, his aching legs and sore arms be damned. And with him not admitting defeat, Farena can’t end the fight.
In the end, it is Kifaji who pulls him away before he’s injured beyond recognition, but even then he thrashes and attempts to push him away. “Let go of me”, “I’m not losing”. The words scratch his throat as he yells. Finally, Kifaji lets go of his arm, his face twisted in hurt.
“Tone it down, my prince! You’re being difficult!” It hurts him as much as it does Leona, but he goes on, “There’s no point.”
It feels like yet another inescapable twist. Kifaji, who’s always given him the silent approval. Kifaji, who treats him to sautéed mutton every time he’s faced with defeat. Kifaji, whom he trusts with his life. It turns out that he’s just like everyone else.
That day, it’s not just his relationship with Farena that shatters, but also the bond he shared with Kifaji.
Allowing no one near him, Kifaji has no choice but to visit his only friend. They rush with him back to the palace upon hearing about everything that’s happened, and feels their heart lurch uncomfortably at the sight of Leona’s battered state.
With utmost precision, they clean and bandage his wounds like how they wrap papers around bunches of flowers. The silence stretches, as if the moment it’s broken, the tears welling in their eyes will fall uncontrollably.
And so neither of them speak a word. Once they’re done with throwing away the bloodied towels, Leona lets his head loll onto their shoulder. Even in their presence it feels like his heart is hardening into a rock, one that upon being crushed, will never be recovered again. The night embraces them; two souls beaten down by life, robbed of their hopes and dreams.
Leona will never admit it, but that night, he holds their hand like it’s his only lifeline.
Tumblr media
In the end, the thing that stomps on his aspirations is but a little child.
Cheka is what Malaika and Farena decide to call him. The young, adorable son of the king (in all but name anyways), who is also a promise that Leona shall never get the throne.
It’s… devastating. His steely, cold eyes are fixed unblinkingly on the snoring infant in his arms. Cheka had been crying non-stop in the middle of the night, craving his mother’s embrace, but Malaika is caught up in a meeting. As it turns out, funnily enough, he only goes quiet when he’s shoved into Leona’s arms.
Leona wills himself to feel hatred, to feel spite, but nothing comes out but for a single tear that rolls down his face. The only thing eating him up inside is pity for himself.
He feels lost. For the longest time he’s felt like he’s playing on the losing team, like the game’s rigged, but to think that the definite indication of his defeat is a young child?
The walls of the palace close in on him. Any second now they’ll come crashing down. Would anyone notice if he’s buried under debris? Probably not. The beloathed second prince, the disappointment in everyone’s eyes.
Is there any point in trying?
As hopelessness engulfs him, his only hope is to call for the only person left in his life who would still back him up. After all, they’ve promised time after time that they wouldn’t give up on them both. Hours tick by; he paces in his room, feeling every hair on his skin. There seems to be a predator in the corner of his room, looming over him, waiting to catch him in a moment of weakness.
He waits, and waits some more. When the guard returns empty-handed, he goes there by himself.
When was the last time they met? Right. Last month, when Leona asked the royal healer to gauge the cause of their mother’s illness. Dread overcomes him as he nears the shabby shop. Paired with the crumbling depression he’s been feeling the whole day, he won’t be surprised if the ground under him caves in swallows him whole.
It’s empty. The wooden sign says ‘closed’. There’s no light from the second floor, where they live. The flowers in front of the shop has withered. It looks vacant, deserted. Coincidentally, that’s also how Leona feels.
They’re just … gone. No one has idea where they’ve gone to; all of their neighbours claim that they just disappeared one day, like they were taken by the wind. Leona sends out anyone who’s not caught up in caring for the newborn prince to look for them, but to no avail. He has no idea what has happened to them, or whether they’re even still— alive.
The thought makes him sick to the stomach.
He waits for days. Weeks. Then he realises that he’s truly alone. For the first time in his life, there’s no one left in his life who know him.
Call it impulse, call it his mind playing tricks. He doesn’t have it in him to think about reason anyways. All he knows is that the longer he stays in this cage of a palace, he’ll suffocate.
A fortnight later, he digs out the crumbled, forgotten invitation letter from his drawer, and leaves for the college far away from his homeland.
Tumblr media
Three or four years of school. That’s quite enough to make someone become a bitter, cynical person. That’s where Leona finds himself anyways, lazing his time away at NRC. He doesn’t technically like it here— too many people, too noisy— but it’s better than being stuck in the palace, forced to come face to face with the fact that he’s born with the short end of the stick.
Classes are largely meaningless. He doesn’t have to listen to a single lecture to get full marks in tests and exams. Leading his dorm and the Magift club doesn’t give him as much satisfaction as he initially expected. Most days it feels meaningless to do anything, but it doesn’t kill him. Whatever sadness or problems that come his way can be solved by a nap. If they persist, then two naps. Eventuality they will leave him alone; there isn’t much point in trying anyways.
Why the botanical garden? Well, it’s just a personal choice of his. Maybe it also has something to do with the fact that the mix of flowers and grass reminds him of a softer, better time. Not that he will ever admit it. If anyone asks him why he knows so much about botany, floriculture and all that, he can just brush it off by saying that he’s spent too much time in the garden.
He doesn’t really miss anything. Or anyone. This life he’s leading is not ideal, but, again, it’s just enough to get by.
At least he’s not totally lonely. There’s always someone bothering him, like Ruggie right now, who’s berating him for being late for the preparation of the entrance ceremony.
The corridor is packed with new, curious faces. Most of them seem to recognize the lion beastman and stay out of his way smartly. As he lazily trails behind Ruggie, he hears a bit of commotion coming from just around the corner. Gasps and cusses, and also muttered apologies.
It’s probably nothing, he thinks to himself as he turns— only to come face to face with a stack of books higher than him. It looms over him, threatening to fall directly on his head.
(is this… deja vu?)
Moments before he can feel the impact, Ruggie yells, “Laugh with me!” and manages to balance whoever’s holding the books. “Come on, Leona! We’re already late!”
As he clicks his tongue in annoyance and walks past the faceless student, he hears them mutter a thanks under their breath. It sounds- awfully familiar. Familiar enough to make him swivel around sharply, gaze drilling holes in their back.
“Leona!”
Damn it. He shakes the thought away and follows the hyena instead.
The little encounter gets forgotten in the back of his mind as he prepares to welcome a new group of dorm members. The newbies stand in a crooked queue, turning around and talking to the strangers around them. Some of them are adjusting their robes, the others fidgeting nervously. Whispers fly, most of them speculations of whichever dorm the speakers are about to be sorted in.
It doesn’t surprise him that most his new dorm members look to be physically advantaged. He wouldn’t want it other way; it helps raise his chances of victory in the next Magift tournament.
As he’s about to drift off into dreamland, he hears the next name being called. A name that he hasn’t spoken in years, a name that he’s been trying to bury in his memories.
There’s no mishearing it— his eyes are wide open now, landing on the hooded figure in front of the mirror. Their face is obscured, but then they give their own name to the mirror, and that’s when Leona knows for sure that’s it’s them.
He couldn’t put to words what was happening in his head. Happiness? Surprise? Confusion? An amalgamation of emotions blur within him. He holds his breath, waiting for the announcement of the dorm. What’s it gonna be? No, how even are they here? Have they somehow figured out magic? Where have they even been?
“The shape of thy soul belongs to… Savanaclaw."
Well, he'll be damned.
Immediately after hearing that, their head shoots up, eyes landing on the tall and muscled group of students. For some reasons he cannot fathom, he turns his face to the side, concealing himself. Is it because he's unready to confront a face from the past? Is it because he's hung up on the fact that they left him without a word?
No, it feels more like shame. He isn't sure if he wants to be seen by them in this state. Not yet.
He remains quiet during the trip back to the dorm. Ruggie shoots him a confused glance as he's supposed to give a short speech to welcome the first-year students, but he lets it slide.
Even as he's standing in the very front of the queue, he can make out that distinct flowery scent if he tries. Years of memories come crashing on him, so sudden that he finds himself at a loss of words as he leaves Ruggie to assign the rooms.
He knows there's no point in hiding when he's literally the dorm leader, but the thoughts within him are too much of a whirlwind. Even when he's time after time fantasized about meeting them again, this feels way too sudden. He needs time to untangle his feelings. Maybe then he'll have the guts to face them.
This plan goes down the drain in the end. He hates feeling like a coward, but what he hates even more is that they are literally in the same building as him, and he's knocking himself away. Propelled by nothing but a racing heart, he gets out of bed and down the hallways, coming to a stop in front of a room that he hopes is correct.
He knocks.
Seconds pass. No one seems to be answering. Just as he's about to give up and return to his room, the door is swung open, and in the doorway stands the person that's been weaving in and out of his dreams.
Time has been good to them. Their features have become more defined, and they are holding themselves up with more confidence now. Leona freezes right there like an awkward statue, mouth agape. Words fail him. What is he supposed to say anyways, except that he's missed them?
After a beat, recognition dawns on their face. The beam on their lips is so beautiful it could light up the whole building. They all but throw themselves at them, and Leona stumbles backward from the strength.
What is he to do but to wrap his ams around them as well? It feels like he's back in the palace again, only this time without any sourness coating his tongue.
So they finally get to talk about everything that's happened in the past years. It turns out that one night their mother got dangerously close to the edge of death, and in a moment of bone-chilling fear, they woke up the neighbourhood doctor for help. As usual, he couldn't do anything, but at the sight of their distraught tears, he advised that the two of them go away to this other country, where developments in technology and medicine were more advanced. With no time to waste, he helped them sneak onto the last late night ride out of Sunset Savanna and to the foreign land.
It turned out that there was indeed a possible cure for their mother, but the follow-up treatment was a long, taxing journey. They found a place to stay in, and it took six months for her situation to finally stabalize. By the time they had the time and money to return, Leona was already long gone. All they knew was that he'd gone to a prestigious school for magic users.
With the responsibility to support the family and continue the family business off their back, they could do whatever they want. And, as can be seen, they chose to pick up a few books from the local library and teach themselves magic, all so that they could meet Leona again.
At this, he is once again rendered speechless. All this time they've been giving their all just to get to him, and what has he been doing? Letting time slip through his fingers like sand? Suddenly he feels very, very small standing in front of them.
But as always, they don't push him away even after all this. Because they know the Leona who's buried under all these layesr: the Leona who's unafraid to speak up for his beliefs, the Leona who looks out for those around him, the Leona who never gives up no matter what. They're sure that he can pick himself up again.
And perhaps, with their hand securely in his once more, he can really try again.
Tumblr media
I feel that it's a bit obvious that the ending is a bit rushed, even though it's supposed to be the 'to lovers' part in the 'childhood friends to lovers' equation. The truth is that my ideas only reached as far as the point where Leona goes to NRC, so the rest I just came up with on the spot. Not to mention this is just roughly how I imagine  the au would go, so there may be plot holes. That being said, here are some other ways the ending could go:
They don't get back together right away, but instead they slowly approach each other again, tip-toeing around each other the whole time. Perhaps they meet when his friend is visiting the botanical garden, because of course they would. Leona is distancing himself a bit cause he doesn't want them to see how he's turned out. But they eventually get familiar with each other again.
Similarly they don't confront each other immediately, but this time Leona's overblot does happen and they show up to stop it. I feel like they'd be disappointed at his ourburst and him using underhanded methods to secure victory, but give them a few scenes and they'll work it out together and Leona will see his faults.
Tumblr media
And now onto a little reflection about this au of mine... it's such a precious brainchild of mine I want to cradle it in my arms until it eventually grows up to be an actual fic. But regretfully I have neither the time nor energy to plot everything out, only scattered ideas as you can see. There are quite a lot of things I want to develop in the story:
obviously the relationship between leona and his childhood friend
relationship between leona and kifaji
leona and farena
leona and his parents
leona's backstory, specifically how he became who he is today 
the theme of trying again and again
the theme of mutual support in a relationship
Juggling all of these and attempting to expand them to each their full potential have been a challenge. There are also other things that stand in the way, such as how to portray Leona in a young age. Personally I have almost zero recollection of my childhood so I can't help but struggle with balancing the helplessness he feels and the naive hope every child possesses.
But all of those aside, at least I'm putting this au out in the world. Maybe one day I'll get around to making it a real thing :) I hope y'all have enjoyed this mess of an au as much as I do!
If you're interested in the stuff that I came up with for this au weeks ago, it is linked below. JUST A HEADS UP: it's unedited and written before the recent event, so there could be inaccuracies. I also don't like how I've made Leona too bitter for a 8 year old. But feel free to read it and give me a few feedback!
google docs
568 notes · View notes
maplemind · 5 months
Text
Ok I’m having thoughts about the Uther / Arthur dynamic…
I think that Arthur was entirely raised by wet nurses / nannies / etc because Uther’s negative feelings were too strong.
I think for most of Arthur’s youth, Uther resented, regretted, and somehow blamed Arthur for the loss of Ygraine. And I think Uther essentially avoided his own son as much as he could get away with.
I think he got so desperate for an heir (and of course the problem couldn’t be with him, it had to be Ygraine’s reproductive system that was faulty), that he didn’t do his research, or didn’t listen to warnings, or somehow believed himself above the potential consequences.
I bet he knew that a life would be taken, but he assumed it would be some peasant of Camelot, maybe a knight, maybe one of his lords, but thought he and his family would be immune and would obviously be spared. Because, y’know, he’s the king of Camelot.
And I think he blamed Arthur for some messed up reason (I mean, ok, grief does weird things to people).
And I think every time he realised Arthur isn’t a carbon copy of him, isn’t the perfect heir (impossibly strong, talented, and stoic) he resents him and regrets that he traded the love of his life for “this disappointment”. Surely magic should have given him the absolute perfect heir? And person so amazing they’re beyond all human comprehension, right? Like Hercules, or Achilles.
Also, the way Uther loses his godamn mind when Morgana is dying in S3, the way he waxes lyrical about how important she is to him, how he can’t live without her… yet Arthur has been dying twice by this point and Uther gets no where near as upset. In fact, he sits with his dying son once, admits that his death is inevitable, then goes about his day without a second glance…
And because of the way his father couldn’t even spare him a glance, let alone a hug, or comfort, or an “I love you, I’m proud of you”, I don’t think Arthur knows what affection really is. I don’t think he truly understands how love feels.
I think that’s why he was so off-balance when he went to save Ealdor with Merlin and saw the way he and his mother interacted. It threw everything he’d ever known into doubt.
Maybe he thought that kind of love, affection, and physical comfort is for poor people, because that’s what his experience told him.
And maybe it made Arthur think - “what if my mother had survived? What if my father’s life had been taken instead?”
And what if Ygraine had lived and Uther had died? I mean, the spell gave Uther an heir to take over when he died, and he got what he wanted, right? So if Uther dies right away… well, you’ve got your heir you wanted, he’ll take your place like he’s supposed to!
Arthur has lived his whole life feeling like he wasn’t wanted - that’s what all the evidence told him. Then he finds out he’s “the reason” his mother is dead and his father is a heartless, emotionless, bitter man?
Holy shinsplints Arthur. No wonder he couldn’t accept the affection Merlin and Guinevere clearly had for him. Maybe that’s why he kept freaking out and throwing it back in their faces, getting angry, pushing them away.
He was scared because he had absolutely no idea how to react to it - no blueprint, no examples, no evidence that his own upbringing and his father’s mentality isn’t normal.
But my god did he try and give out all the love he had stored in his heart, all the love that was wasted on his father and was never reciprocated. My god did he try.
Bless you, Arthur. My heart aches so damn hard for you.
114 notes · View notes
strawhatkia · 9 months
Text
luvr boy.
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
INCLUDES ! izuku midoriya x black!fem!reader
GENRE ! fluff
SYNOPSIS ! general relationship headcanons with izuku !
WARNINGS ! cursing, fem!black! reader, we still in high school y’all, a little uraraka slander (read to understand), edited
WORD COUNT ! 1.6k
A/N ! another repost, i had to break it up bc it was a lot of text - izuku motherfucking midoriya. the blasian himself. isaiah niggadoriya. him with a black female? him with a melanated goddess? i think it god’s greatest gift to give izuku ‘deku’ midoriya a beautiful, melanated, healing black woman and for me to write about it.❤️🥰 also, i hate the way uraraka is written and i will not hold back
reblogs and comments are welcomed and loved, so leave some please ! i will respond ! 🤍
MAIN MASTERLIST | BNHA MASTERLIST | TAGLIST
Tumblr media
— ☾⋆⁺₊ 👊🏻 📗✧
pretty boy- the prettiest 
alright!! let’s start with wash day!!
…nigga did not know shit-
 poor baby grew up with inko, bless her straight headed soul, so he had no clue how to probably take care of his hair
all he had was h e a t  d a m a g e
“zuku, how do you do your hair?” “huh?” “like what do you do?” “uh well, nothing really, i just wash it, that’s it.” “…” “what? why are you making that face- IS SOMETHING WRONG WITH MY HAIR?!?”
everything…everything is wrong…
aight sis, grab yo detangler, rat-tail comb, hard brush, sulfate-free shampoo, co-wash, conditioner, deep conditioner, protein treatment, all your oils, patience, and strength
and for the love of everything that is great- throw away his 3-in-1 before he give me a fucking heart attack
chile- you couldn’t even see his fucking scalp. his hair was so matted and curled up tightly together that it hurt to look at it 
don’t let him go out this house like this no mo, hear me?
but it’s nothing you can’t fix, give the lil boy head some TLC and watch them curls pop!
first wrap that towel around his shoulders, put a pillow on the floor and sit him down in between ya legs and start the marathon of old all might and black people movies you gon’ be there for a while
lil boy would not sit still and he was tender-headed pick a struggle; at this point it was either get popped by you or suffer the pain from his scalp…he chose the latter
mans almost fell asleep while you was shampooing his hair and when you put the hot oil treatment on his scalp- slumber  
after everything, you twisted his hair and gave him a bonnet
“uhm...why are you giving me a hat?” you almost slapped the taste outta his damn mouth
after explaining, he put it on; little did he know it was an expect copy to yours, just a different size
“baby, we’re matching!” ”yes, izu, we are. do you wanna take pictures?” you have just made his night. 
the pictures were posted all over insta and has them pinned on his account you betta bet mina was all in the damn comment section ; later, he would print them out and put them on his desk so he can look at when he sat down or went to bed
when you took his hair down the next day, he went to the mirror and baby had stars in his eyes
“it looks so cool!” “i’m glad you like it, izu”
he talks about you to all might all the fucking time to the point they both know you better than ya damn self
which is really annoying because all might be wanting them "one on one" talks and it will irk you to talk to him because everything will be "but young midoriya said..."
to be honest, he went to all might for love advice....don’t ever let him do that again. mans was using the most corniest lines but since it was izuku, he got away with- tell me you not cheesing thinking about him saying the "roses are red, violets are blue line" with the cutest blush...im waiting
golden hour, his favorite time of the day
this man will drop everything just to see you at golden hour like when the sun is just starting to set, he will rush into ya dorm room just to watch you
it's like therapy for him to see you relaxing under the setting sun and see your brown skin shining, i just feel like this time would be the time he reminds himself that he is incredibly lucky to have you and will literally do anything to keep you relaxed like this
"zuku babes, what are you looking at?" "nothing~" "whew boy you are so far gone" "hm?" "oh! uh...love you !" "hm, love you too~"
side note: ...if you hear a camera click, don't be surprised
izuku loves affection, giving and receiving
his giving love languages is acts of service and a lil bit of quality time; his receiving love language is physical touch and words of affirmation
so it’s important that you meet in the middle and give him praise, shit works like a charm
go up to him, pat and rub his curls and tell him that he did a good job and one of two things will happen
one: he'll tear up a lot and ask if you're sure or two: he'll blush really fucking hard
as for his giving love, he'll just kinda follow you now until he is told to leave. don’t do that. just don’t.
let him leave on his own, you'll make him feel like he's bothering you otherwise 
ask him for cuddles, he’ll drop almost anything he is doing to do so
even if you just drop hints about it, he’ll just smile and just take you somewhere quiet before sitting down or laying down to take a nap with you (nap dates with zuku !)
i think my heart just busted outta my chest i love him so fucking much
if you wanna match his acts of service, when he’s sick or just really busy at hero work studies, take notes for him in class. he will love you forever i promise. 
and best believe, that he wants your attention on him at all times
remember them head pats? let’s say you give them to todoroki or tsu for doing some reason
poor thing is definitely sitting in a corner somewhere sulking
he doesn’t want to get upset because that’s his friends and he's glad that you are getting along but he would be lying if he didn't feel a little salty about it
later on, he will ask for some and if you refuse for any reason, he’ll look at you like you just tore out his heart…cause ya did
and GOD FORBID if you give more attention to bakugo instead of him…it is now in God’s hands
he’s throwing you over his shoulder and walking away from bakugo, not before throwing him a glare which later on ensues another fight between them
he only did it because he doesn’t like you getting too close to bakugo, no matter how much he cares about him being his childhood friend
i would like to think there's always that underlying fact that yes, you can handle yourself, but he also knows just how capable bakugou is and lowkey does not want to risk it
please remind him that you do love him and that he is a good boyfriend with all the hugs, cuddles, and all that other good shit
he loves to write about you in his notes, he has AT LEAST 4 notebooks about everything about you as well as somethings he wish to say to you and a little souvenirs from moments between you two that he found special
he has a special item from the time he figured out that he loved you and wrote down in detail what happened and how he felt about it 
when you find these notebooks, do not, i repeat, DO NOT tell him that you found. just take the damn notebook while you can and run
give it back and you'll never see it again.
but most definitely tell him about all the things you read and watch him turn bright red
“so, you did get jealous when I gave Sero that hug the other day?” “HUH?!?!? H- H- HOW DID YOU FIND OUT!!?” “*holds up notebook marked ‘Y/n L/n’* Maybe because wrote about it…in detail” *cue the screams of embarrassment and horror*
nah but the amount of times the boy has gone off on a tangent about the little things he loves about you in there will get you flustered-
for drama sake, let’s talk about uraraka
short story: you almost knocked that bitch teeth in
long story: yes, deku used to like her and yes, she almost got him but that did not work out and guess who got him first ! tbh, you started out good friends with uraraka apart from the dekusquad but she never told you about her lil crush until it was too damn late !  
and little miss thing was not happy about it; “after all this time…he gets with her!!”
i think you noticed at first her lil sly ass actions and remarks but don’t give in, let her make a fool of herself and watch her run around in circles
be calm and stay two steps ahead, it will work out in your favor ! and it did !
the next person that noticed was tsu, however, she was on your side about this because she hates petty shit and people so what uraraka was doing was not to her liking at all ! 
the other two, iida and shoto, caught on to it (iida wanting uraraka to at least remain civil and shoto just watching from afar) but deku remained oblivious for a while
he just wanted to be friends with everyone so he kinda just...didn't notice or thought she was mad about something else
i feel like uraraka would get beside herself and start saying reckless ass shit to express her frustration but it would only end up with her getting her ass beat and shunned from the group until she got her act together
you can guess what she said but all imma say is….she really lost her god damn mind and paid the price
what's worse is she really did try to make it seem like you stole from her...but dum dum was the one who didn't speak up? until the very last minute? which...sounds like a personal problem? sssoooooo, stay mad?
everyone in class did figure it out and it was just lowkey sad to see her get so messy but in the end !
izuku loves you very much and would do anything for you 
you are his happiness and he’s thinking about spending forever with you
Tumblr media
©STRAWHATKIA ━ all rights reserved. all content published on this blog belongs to starsoir. please refrain from copying, stealing, profiting off my works, or using my works for asmr related work. i don’t allow my works to be used or adapted in any way without my permission.
reblogs and comments are welcomed and loved, so leave some please ! i will respond ! 🤍
Tumblr media
wanna read more ??
lip gloss, lil mama. | f. | multiple characters
boyfriend. | f. | katsuki bakugo
love you more when the day is new. | f. | multiple characters
taglist : @mypimpademia @sevvnt @cosmiles @megurulvr @miirene
izuku taglist: @cosmiles
319 notes · View notes