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garfieldsladybird · 2 years

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SpongeBob | R.L.

request; Getting high with remmy... for party animals;🦒 100 celebration 🍾 @sagesworlddd <33

remus lupin x reader.

Warnings — fluff. drugs: marijuana/cannabis (weed).leads into making out. or more ;) words; 663.

Credits: This is my work. It is to not be plagiarized. I do not own Hp/Marauders and I do not own Remus Lupin. This is all fanfiction.

-> masterlist, nav, marauders era masterlist.

Sitting in the compartment going to hogwarts, were two people. Sitting across from each other, smoke filled their space but the window inside was cracked open a bit, so they were okay, in some way.

“Are you sure we should be doing this?” you say worried that someone might catch you both smoking on the train.

“We’ll be fine, no one even comes back here, and didn’t you want to get away for a little?” the other person says after he takes a drag of the joint he just lit.

“I know moons but what about the smoke?” you say with a smile gabbing the joint.

“Don't worry about it,” moons aka Remus said with a smile, his foot gently knocking into yours, nodding to the window.

As you continue playing footsie, you stop thinking of all the ways you’re gonna get caught and just inhale the joint. Blowing the smoke out and coincidentally just as quickly as it went out you re-inhaled the smoke before blowing it all out, some would say that was a ghost, but who knows? It was just out of pure habit. While doing so you were looking out the window, seeing the beautiful scenery change from the moving train.

“I love the ride to Hogwarts but man it's so long,” you say taking a quick hit before passing it, your legs now next to his thighs on the seat.

“Eight hours later,” he does a horrible but good impression of the SpongeBob intermission voice, which makes you laugh, making him chuckle before taking a drag and passing it to you. Doing the same as you, slouching back against the seat now relaxing, his legs up in the corner of your seat next to your thighs.

“That was horrible,” you cough on the smoke while laughing, he laughs with you as you die.

“Like you could do any better,”

“Oh please, eight hours later.” Rolling your eyes with a smile, before continuing in a monotone somewhat deep voice, like the guy you both are coping which makes him laugh even more. All while he takes a toke.

“oh, merlin! oh and we only have 5 hours left,” he says laughing before taking a quick look at his watch, looking back up at you with a smile before grabbing the passing joint that he had passed when laughing.

“Five hours later,” you say in the same monotone deep voice, dragging the words out, you both laugh as you get up to sit next to him. His arms wrap around your shoulder as you both melt into each other, both of you watching the smoke flow out the window.

“I’ve missed you,” you say quietly in your normal beautiful accent. Your words are true as it feels as if it’s been forever since seeing him. Grabbing the diminishing joint from his hand, you bring the joint up to inhale.

“I’ve missed you too darling,” he says lovingly, kissing your head.

“y'know since we have five hours, we should make the most of it, especially since we’ve missed each other for so long,” you point out with a devious smile after you blow out the smoke, ashing it in an old jar that was on your side before leaning back, looking at him.

“We should finish the joint first my love,” he chuckles a bit with his beautiful smile, leaning back with the joint taking a puff and still somehow looking suggestively at you.

“Mmhm, take turns like usual,” you pause with a smile, sitting up straight next to him, his free hand still on you, he bringing the joint up to your lips, you take a drag before getting closer to him, “but maybe have some fun with it too.”

He leans to you and parts his lips before you blow the smoke into his mouth, his eyes close once he feels yours on his, feeling your lips turn into a smile when you both connect your lips together, correctly.

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athanasius-symposium-of-writings · 2 years

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Cupid's Curse

Chapter Five

Warnings: Obsessive behavior, Gods stuff

Taglist: @gingermous @mt2sssss @dev-angeline @graciexmarvel

A\N: if you know you know

Chapter Four | Chapter Six

Today is cleaning day! You only like cleaning day because you need every possible way to distract yourself from going out and seeking the beautiful man who— No! You are going to not think about him and remain focused on the task at hand.

First the kitchen. Gotta refill your fridge and maybe get some new dishes and pans.

Second, the living room. Dusty… You gaze down at your photo albums lovingly. They are the only proof connecting you to many past lovers.

Third, the bathroom. You ran out of your favorite body wash! You grumble hating having to later go do a full shopping.

Last, your room. Nothing is done, you took a nap.

A full day spent without going or thinking about he-who-shall-not-be-named!

You scream internally as you legitimately accidentally bump into someone, not just anyone now. The man from the gift shop. What a time for the fucking Fates to do their jobs! "Excuse me, sorry." You wave it off while keeping your head down. Today you wore whatever you had clean: the worst generic civilian outfit. Honestly, your stalking has let your personal chores slip up badly.

"Oh, you're that lady who comes into the museum a lot."

You shake your head as you grab what you need from the shelf. Nope, nope!

"It's okay, no worries. You don't have to be nervous talking to me… Okay, good chat."

You bolted like a bad out of hell fearing any second longer, you could smell him… His hair looked freshly cut and his face clean shaven which explains the cologne like smell. He's so tall, you know that but he's sloughing to hide it oh Gods oh Gods Furies take me.

"Do you need help?" That's a loaded question right now, "Here." You nervously take the box of coffee you were trying to reach before once more Steven, beloved Steven, seems to be going the same places you are too.

Seriously.

Fates, the fuckers, are putting him in every section you need to go.

"What a coincidence, haha!"

You frown, moving past him, your bare hand almost touching him. Dangerously close. Close enough to reignite that burning need. Mania will not let you escape your needs.

The next day. The day after. The following day after that. Weeks following after another. You couldn't help yourself, you needed to see him again. The pain and heat is unbearable, Aphrodite never held back when she was alive, and her heart wonders why its it's being forced to do so now.

Being normal is beyond you. No matter how many different ways you try to temper this divine heart.

The craving is horrible resulting in you going on the edge of doing something you might regret.

Retracking, rewriting, stalking once more the poor man.

Only, you are not hiding. Eros' cravings have you going on dates around the same area as Steven would be.

Those brown sweet eyes would land on you and whomever you are with that moment.

The museum you had a lady with you.

At a fountain he hangs around, you were with a person.

Then when he was going clothes shopping, you were with a man who looked old enough to be your father.

He would only catch you when passing, a glimpse and the scent of jasmine following.

The last time he sees you, J.B. is with him.

Celebration of the mural from Aphrodite's temple is being transported here and on full display.

You show up in a black dress, makeup, hair done; the opposite of what Steven has seen you before. The scent of jasmine is stronger than before.

"There she is!" J.B. elbows Steven as he eyes you up and down, "She got to be the most beautiful bird you ever laid eyes on… Or in general." That jab was uncalled for. "Shit, she's coming this way: look busy!"

It's late in the evening and this side of the museum is getting ready to close up. The party is in the Greek section. Steven already did his closing prep!

"Hey—"

You ignore the boring loveless mortal, "Mr. Steven?" Soft spoken for a lady in black dress with long sleeves and gloves. A clutch purse in hand, gripped firmly as if your lifeline. Strange for how you are dressed, he thought you were confident. Wait, you can talk!?

"Hey," Both if you are awkward once the greetings are done with.

"So are you—" The bug tries to speak to you.

"I would like this, please!" Grabbing something near you. A sarcophagus shaped pencil case.

"Right, bag or no bag?"

J.B. cannot believe this, "Why not toss in your digits while you're at it."

"That would be nice… If you want, Mr.Steven?"

The guard is dying in the background while Steven and you exchange numbers, talking, you apologizing for being so shy before. Two anxious little beans trying to find the right words to say to each other. Cute! Minus, everything you did which Marc told him about (Steven doubts it but it was a bit odd seeing you everywhere he was given how big London is).

"Bye, Steven." Your voice is downright dreamy.

"Bro, what the fuck?"

Steven shrugs.

You go back to the part smiling with joy, your powers about to on overload so you take a moment to breathe to calm down before you accidentally start a damn public orgy. Dionysus would have loved that. You miss him sometimes, he was fun when drunk.

Entering the exhibit full of people who paid their way into here (you did too under an alias) to be the first to see the mural.

You made that mural.

It was your gift to Aphrodite when you asked her to give you the ability to love the world as she did.

"Bring back memories." You nod, "Surprised you haven't killed anyone for removing this from her temple." You hum as you drink your champagne. "Achilles says he hopes you are doing well."

Zagerus, son of Hades and Persephone, Aphrodite's favorite little godling. He checks up on you often given you are one of the last Olympians alive-ish.

Zag, as he allows you to call him, keeps you up to date with the surviving Greek Gods which are the Underworld ones and the single Olympian Persephone. You never count yourself because she gave you her heart but did not possess you (her desires got that covered too often).

"Beautiful as ever by the by." Kissing your hand when he leaves. "If I may?" You allow him to kiss your bare skin for your power will not work on a God, unless they wish it. "See next time, cheers." Walking away. You appreciate his visits are short since he cannot be on the surface long.

You stare at the mural, Aphrodite specifically.

#moon knight #reader insert #fanfiction #ao3 fanfic #moon knight reader insert #moon knight fanfic #moon knight fanfiction #jake lockley #marc spector #steven grant #steven with a v #marc spector x reader #marc spector x you #steven grant x reader #steven grant x you #jake lockley x you #jake lockley x reader #moon knight x you #moon knight x reader

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fangerine · 1 year

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spoilers ahead for the last of us ep. 6!

i’m gonna be honest. not a huge fan of this departure from the game. i get it but it also felt like a forced set-up to tlou p2/tlou s2. don’t get me wrong, the set design in this episode is fucking magnificent, and the acting is great but it just felt a little out of place. mind you, i’m not a huge fan of tlou p2 so that could also be why i’m not completely in love with tonight’s episode.

anywayssss, let’s get into a quick analysis or whatever these things are that i’ve been writing for the past month or so.

i think it was an interesting but important choice to open the episode up with henry’s death. it felt a little like a nightmare sequence and it gave me a little bit of a jolt, not gonna lie. i felt like joel, a bit, when he gets those nightmares of sarah. something i don’t want to see but i’m forced to.

this episode deals with a lot of things: guilt, family tension, community (or communism as joel puts it), trust but most importantly, what life can be like away from the horrors of the world.

i absolutely loved the couple in the beginning. i hadn’t laughed that hard in the series until that scene. i just adored the juxtaposition of all this horrible, traumatizing shit we’ve witnessed in the series thus far and this couple who are extremely calm for being held at gunpoint in their home. they trust each other and make soup for people who intrude their home. i love it.

during a conversation before arriving at jackson, ellie asks what joel is going to do once this cure is made. it’s a cute moment. one of the more wholesome moments from joel. he just wants a farmhouse away from all the shit, and have his sheep. simple life.

a simple life that he can’t even have in his dreams because they’re replaced by nightmares of his past.

and this is kind of the core to joel. he is a man who is constantly connected to the past despite trying to ignore it and push it down at every turn. he seems to want to let go of it but when you try and push down pain like that, it ends up sticking even further. i mean, even his watch is stuck on the time of the most traumatic point of his life: losing sarah.

she is a ghost that haunts him instead of being a guardian angel that could bring him comfort. it’s heartbreaking to watch.

as we progress through his and ellie’s time in jackson, we see a reversal of attitudes from them both. joel is initially just happy to see his brother but as time goes on, he starts to reject this way of living because it simply doesn’t fit with his worldview that he’s carried for the past 20 years. ellie on the other hand is incredibly hostile at the beginning, more or less because she’s an annoying (lovingly) 14-year-old but also because i think she’s trying to emulate joel. but as she spends more time there, she sees the all the good things this world can have. things she’s never had.

the two are both seeing this reality that not everything is complete shit and they’re reacting to it in very different ways.

and then we see this small collapse of joel. he becomes vulnerable in front of the only person he can afford to be. he shares his fears. his guilt. and if you listen between the pauses of his heart wrenching confessions to tommy, the love he still has in his heart for his daughter, and now, that is spreading to ellie.

but then he closes back up because he is “the contractor”. he builds things. he fixes things. and he thinks that his vulnerability is something that needs to be fixed and nipped in the bud.

this life that he could have is something he thinks he’s not even close to deserving of. and maybe he isn’t. maybe joel miller is a shitty person who brutally kills people because he believes that is the only form of protection. maybe he is truly an old grump who is meant to be alone with sheep that he can “control”.

but he still cares. he gives a shit. and i think that’s why he starts to lighten up a little more when he and ellie leave jackson.

but now he’s on the brink of death. he will only survive if someone else cares. if someone else gives a shit about him and thinks he deserves to live. and that someone is ellie; a 14-year-old girl who he is scared to death of caring about. he might not be able to afford being vulnerable to her, like he is with tommy, because that could cost him his heart all over again.

and that’s something he won’t be able to survive through again.

#the last of us #the last of us spoilers #tlou #tlou spoilers #the last of us show #the last of us hbo #tlou show #tlou hbo #joel miller #tommy miller #ellie williams #pedro pascal #gabriel luna #bella ramsey

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nuclearloop · 3 months

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points. skin and secret for hari, ghost and future for sor :3c

Bless, these are all great...HERE WE GO

Skin: How comfortable is your OC in their skin? Do they grapple with anything that lives inside them—a beast, a curse, a failure, a monster? How do they face the smallest, weakest, most horrible version of themself? Are they able to acknowledge it at all?

Figuratively and literally here, For Sure. In just about every AU Hari has some form of 'parasite' she lovingly named Frankie that is a direct connection to her still being alive. (Parasite blights, code-breaking viruses, etc etc.) Even when Frankie isn't present, though she usually goes through some form of mutilation along her left arm (and often her left tit), it's just kind of thematic. She is pretty good at keeping it down, but her fear of losing autonomy is overwhelming.

Over time she overcomes 'Frankie' one way or another, though, and learns to live with the results whatever those might be.

She is most definitely haunted by her failures though, namely losing her sister Mags to a folly that winds up killing them both (but Hari comes back, thanks Frankie) and it's always Hari's fault. She pretty much lives her life trying to make amends with this, living with guilt, but trying to live her best life for both of them.

Secret: What's one secret your OC never wants anyone to know about them?

Hari's actually extremely anxious, 24/7. She's great at masking it and pretending she's chill and will get defensive if you assume otherwise. She associates anxiety with vulnerability, and she is toooootally good at being vulnerable. She's mostly scared of losing anyone else close to her, and ultimately Death Part 2 - which really she's not afraid of death so much as her control over it. She'd rather not get shanked as her final moment if she can help it.

Ghost: Who or what haunts your OC? What happened? How do they live with their ghosts?

Oh definitely just her arc leading up to her current point in the timeline, across AUs. She has profound guilt over the loss of her previous company who she considered her family since childhood. Her mother, their captain, betrayed them all as kind of a 'boone' to get ahead for conquest and while Sordid was spared she had one two many questions and was punished for it via the Cleansing Flames of Faith and then sent off as a Tithe for the inquisition.

Future: What's the worst possible future for your OC? Are they taking steps to avoid that outcome? Are they even aware it's a possibility?

Yanno, probably a few things. One is Sor just...becoming her mother, which currently is her worst fear. She was already treated more like an heir, a successor, than a daughter, but after seeing the lengths her mother would reach to get what she wanted she's terrified of becoming that too. This would be in line with falling to chaos/chaos ending.

The other is reserved more for AU settings where she doesn't have her little squad of buddies and that she still carries out defeating her mother but is indefinitely Alone and kind of becomes Guts-type in that she'd just lone wolf it, killing monsters, always traveling and keeping people at a very wide berth.

#c:sordid #c:hari #character asks

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softboydrew · 3 years

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nausea and never enough ice cream

The fire crinkled and sparked as the group sat around, marshmallows and coffee's as the cool air blew around them. The woods grew darker and the stars littered the sky causing y/n to close her eyes, feeling Drews soft caresses against her thigh.

Drew's parents decided to invite everyone for a week long cabin getaway, with sweets and boardgames included. Drew and y/n happily accepted the invention by being the first ones to arrive, their excitement bounced around every new comer making Drew's parents marvel over the fact that their loved ones were having a good time.

Today was a long day. Today consisted of fishing, hiking, cooking, and card games... lots and lots of card games. Drew, pleasantly surprised at how competitive y/n was made the games they played even better with light bickering and playful teasing.

But y/n grew tired by six o'clock and she was surprised at how tired she's been getting recently, even before their cabin getaway she'd been feeling off. Restlessness and cravings for Ben and Jerry's increased as days passed, y/n didn't really think anything about it so she never brought it up or gave it a second thought. Ben and Jerry never let her down so she welcomed the newfound cookie dough cravings.

Until two nights ago, violent nausea kicked her hard causing her to stay bedridden. She felt horrible, trying to sweep it under the rug by telling everyone it must have been something she ate. Everyone seemed to agree but not Drew's sister, she let it slide the first night but as she watched y/n worsen she knew that 'bad food' was not making y/n sick.

So, here y/n was, finally up to sitting outside with everyone, sipping on some green tea that Drew's mother had made for her, making sure to add ginger and honey to calm her nausea. She leaned into Drew and shuffled uncomfortably against him, her stomach twisting and turning at the sight of burnt, gooey marshmallows. The smell making her grow pale and groan causing Drew and his sister to snap their focus on y/n.

"What's wrong baby?" he asked in slight panic.

Y/n sat up slowly and held out her hand, motioning for him to stop talking as she set down her mug and took a deep breath to try and settle her stomach. "I- I need to go inside." she nearly whispered.

Drew quickly stood and held out his hands for y/n to hold onto as he helped her up. She screwed her eyes shut as she felt the fire in front of her spin. "It's okay y/n were gonna take you to bed." Drew said as she whimpered at the feeling.

Drew's sister stood and patted y/n's shoulder before calling over for Drew to lead y/n back inside as she held the door for them to enter the warm cabin. "I'm sorry, I don't know what I ate but I feel like it was that chicken." she gagged making him nod in response.

"Probably." Drew's sister said, pressing her lips together to hide what she was really thinking.

"Don't be sorry, you just need some water and some sleep. You'll be all good in the morning." Drew urged making y/n nod as they made their way up the stairs. Their bedroom was one of the bigger rooms, the oak floors and dark green walls called y/n to bed, plopping down onto the pillows and groaning as her stomach churned at the sudden jolt of her body hitting the bed. "I'll go get some water and pepto bismol, need anything else?" Drew asked, leaning down towards y/n and pushing her hair back from her face.

"Get a bin or something so she can have it by the bed." His sister suggested making y/n nod at him. "I've got her." she smiled.

"I'll be right back."

Y/n sighed, snuggling into her pillow as she watched Drew's sister snap her fingers, pointing towards the bathroom and motioning for her to get up.

"What?" y/n questioned as she watched her lock the bedroom door.

"Okay, listen, I have a feeling that chicken isn't making you feel like shit." she said, pulling her from the bed and dragging her to the ensuite.

"What are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about this!" Drew's sister whisper yelled, pulling out a box of pregnancy tests that she bought at the supermarket earlier in the day from under the sink.

"What the fuck!" y/n nearly yelled making Drew's sister slap her hand over y/n's mouth.

"Just try! You might be pregnant and it's not like it's likely that you aren't!" She said throwing her hands up in the air.

Y/n scoffed as she shook her head and looked around the bathroom in shock at what was being said. "This is the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard!"

Drew's sister shoved the pink box into y/n's hands with wide eyes as she peered over at the bedroom door. "I suggest doing it now before he comes back. Y/n lets just see." she said. "What's the worst that could happen?"

Y/n gripped onto the box and sighed, her heart fluttered at the thought of carrying a child... her and Drew's child. Her hands began to shake as she began to connect the dots of the days that lead her to this moment. "Fine!"

"Hurry, I'll distract him if he gets back."

Y/n watched as Drew's sister closed the bathroom door leaving her to stand alone in the bathroom that felt like it would cave in on her at any moment. Y/n began taking out the test as she read the instructions and gulped as she unhooked the cap to the test. She froze once she heard Drew knock on the bedroom door, groaning at it being locked.

"Go get, uh, go.. get the dog!" Drew's sister shouted.

"Why?" he yelled.

"Because we- we want him. and y/n wants to cuddle." Y/n sighed in relief as she heard him curse from behind the door and stomp off into the distance. She rolled her eyes at his childish behavior, giggling at how his sister covered for her. Y/n cleared her throat as she set the test on the toilet cover and slowly shuffled out of the bathroom with flushed cheeks and worried eyes. "Don't stress, whatever happens I know it will be alright."

Y/n nodded as she sat on the door of the bed, twiddling her thumbs to pass the time as they waited for time to pass. "I think it's ready." she said quietly.

"Okay."

The girls stood and slowly made their way to the bathroom, clutching each others hands tightly as y/n reached for the test. With a pounding heart she flipped the test in her hand, revealing two small red lines on the little circled screen. They bother gasped, the test falling out of y/n's hand and onto the tiled floor, her throat hitching as they both look at each other with disbelief in their eyes.

"Holy shit! You're pregnant!" Y/n nodded, her eyes not being able to focus as she felt Drew's sister throw her arms around her in excitement. "You're gonna be a mom!" She whisper yelled.

"I-" Y/n started the they suddenly heard knocks coming from the bedroom door.

"I got the dog..."

The pair both inhaled as y/n stared at Drew's sister with panicked eyes, her hands shaking as she watched her take the test and hide it in mirrored cabinet. "You don't have to tell him right now. And you know you don't have to keep it if you don't want to." she said quickly, placing her hands on y/n's shoulders.

"thank y-you?" Y/n gulped as she watched the door being unlocked and Drew strolling in with the dog behind him.

"Goodnight guys!" his sister sang, winking at y/n before skipping down the hall.

Y/n watched as Drew placed the bin onto the floor and chucking her newly filled water bottle onto the bed. She watched as he close the door and bend down to pet the dog, cooing and laughing with him.

Drew glanced up at y/n with worried eyes as he watched her dig at her back pocket of her jeans before she quickly shuffled towards the bed. She smiled at him slightly as she watched him lean onto his side, stretching his body over the bed to look over at her. "You feeling any better?" he questioned.

"Mhm."

Drew nodded and reached for her hand, leaning back in surprise as she flinched her hand away and clutch her chest. Drew's eyebrows furrowed knowing that she did that whenever she was stressed or upset. "What?"

"Nothing!" y/n squeaked out as she sat back against the headboard, biting her bottom lip. Her chest tightened at the thought of him being upset with the news, what if he was mad? or what if he walked out? where would she go, because she's at his family's house, she'd be alone and scared if he was mad at her.

Drew chuckled, reaching for her again as he crawled closer to her, "I know you. What's on your mind, pretty girl?" Y/n jumped from the bed making Drew gasp at her sudden movements. She ran her hands through her hair and took a deep breath, placing her hands out for him to stay where he was. "Y/n.."

"Okay just-" Y/n sighed as she paced around the bedroom, "Just listen to what I'm going to tell you because I don't know how to tell you and I don't know how you're gonna react because we never really talked about this."

Drew started at her with pure confusion, he sat up straight as he watched her pace around the room in pure panic. he nodded and arched his hands out for her to take and in couple surprise, she took his hands into hers. He watched her take a deep breath as he smiled at her lovingly, his thumbs caressing her, encouraging her to tell him whatever she had to say.

"Okay."

"I- I love you so much." Y/n started making Drew nod, "And I know that you love me so when people love each other... they... they do things-"

"Are you giving me the sex talk?" Drew laughed loudly. "Because if you are then I'm sorry to inform you but I-"

"I'm pregnant." Y/n blurted.

Drew's eyes shot up and a gasp fell from y/n's lips as he jumped off the bed, his frame towering over her small one causing her heart to drop as she watched him walk away from her. "You're pregnant." He said with his back facing y/n.

"I just took the test. Yes.."

Drew jumped up, his fist pumping the air as he turned around, jumping side to side like a jumping bean causing y/n to cover her hands over her mouth as she laughed. Drew quickly made his way over to her and threw his arms around her, y/n squealed as he picked her up effortlessly and spun her around once, twice, three times as her laughter vibrated between them. "I'm going to be a father?"

"Yes." y/n hummed as he set her down, his hands cupping her cheeks into his hands as he watched tears pool at the corner of er eyes.

"We're going to be be parents. We made a tiny human!" Drew nearly screamed as he poked y/n's stomach lovingly.

She giggled at his touch and nodded, pulling out the test from her back jean pocket, "See!" she said holding the test in between them both.

"About time I put a baby in you." Drew smirked.

"Oh, so this was your plan all along?" y/n teased making drew chuckle as he pulled her towards the bed with a plop- causing them to both giggle in bliss.

"Definitely." he teased before tracing spongy kisses against her soft skin, y/n's giggles filling the room as she ran her fingers into his hair as he hovered over her. "Having a little you or me running around it everything." "I love you so much. And I'll love our baby... so, so much." Drew whispered.

"We know." Y/n hummed, gripping Drew's hand and placing it over her soon to be ballon like stomach. "We love you too, so much."

taglist: @pogueslandia @carolineworld

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jombocostello · 3 years

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(Jotaro, Kakyoin, Josuke, Okuyasu) Valentine’s Day Confessions

Anonymous asked: Happy 2021 and hope you had a great New Year’s! It’s a little early, but could I request HCs for how pt 3 Jotaro, Kakyoin, Josuke and Okuyasu react to getting Valentine’s chocolates from the person they like? If it’s not too much, maybe a little bit about what they would do in return for White Day? I love this cheesy trope. Thanks! ❤️

Thank you, and of course!! I’m such a sucker for literally any cheesy trope haha, so I really appreciate this! Happy Valentine’s Day everyone!

-- Jotaro --

Jotaro is no stranger to Valentine's chocolates.

Every single Valentine's day since the age of 12, he's received dozens of presents from countless peers. Most of the time, he doesn't even know their name - he just wordlessly takes the little box out of their hands and throws it rather carelessly into his locker. The spoils of the day usually end up going to his mom; Jotaro isn't a big fan of sweets.

When Valentine's Day rolls around this year, however, there is someone he wouldn't mind receiving a gift from. Over the past few months at school, he's gotten somewhat close with you. When you were seated next to each other in chemistry at the beginning of the year, Jotaro had thought nothing of it - he wasn't at all interested in making friends. However, as the class began, he started to notice little things about you. You were kind, always taking the time to strike up a conversation with him before class, and your laughter was infectious. Despite your happy-go-lucky nature, you could also be more down to earth, which Jotaro really appreciated. It only took a month for Jotaro to realize he was in love.

The hallways are loud today, as admirers rush through the halls during class to deliver their gifts. Jotaro walks to his locker and unlocks it, reaching in and grabbing a pack of cigarettes from the little shelf. Just as he's about to take one, he feels a tug at the hem of his jacket.

"Hm?" He turns around and stares down at the perpetrator. It's a girl, with pretty hair and an anxious smile. After a moment of silent eye contact, the girl shakes herself a bit and shoves a small bag into Jotaro's chest. "H-happy Valentine's Day!" she says hastily. Jotaro just places the bag in his locker and looks back at her, his expression utterly vacant. It only takes a few more seconds for the girl to hurry away, flustered and a little embarrassed.

The bell rings to signify the official end of the school day (Jotaro had skipped his last class just for the hell of it), and suddenly there's even more commotion. Despite how much he would love to get out of this hellhole, Jotaro stays put, folding his arms over his chest. His gaze locks on a locker on the other side of the hallway - it's yours. He figures he should wait for you.

In the time it takes for you to show up, six other people have gifted Jotaro Valentine's Day gifts. None of them received so much as a word of thanks, which Jotaro doesn't really feel bad about. He just wants to see you.

Finally, you get to your locker. "Hey!" he calls, waving you over. You turn around and grin when you realize who it is, and after quickly grabbing your books you walk over to his side of the hall.

"You made out like a bandit," you mutter, peering past Jotaro and at the stack of candies in his locker. "Does that happen every year?"

"Yeah," he replies. "Still don't know why." He puts his hands in his pockets and leans against the wall. "Did you get anything?"

You laugh a little and shrug. "Nah, but I was planning on giving something." Jotaro's eyes widen and he glances at the ground, trying not to let his expression give anything away. It's a long shot, but he really hopes your gift is for him.

"Are you doing anything later?" he asks after he's recovered somewhat. You shake your head, and a rare smile appears on Jotaro's face. "We could hang out, if you want. Maybe share all this stuff." He gestures to the gifts in his locker, and you laugh.

"That would be fun." Your smile softens a bit, and Jotaro watches you closely. "I guess we could share these too!"

Jotaro's smile grows, and you quickly reach into your bag and pull out a little box of sweets. "Here you go!" You present them to him with a big grin on your face. "It's been really great spending this year with you," you say, and Jotaro can feel his heart pounding in his chest. "Would you want to be my Valentine this year?"

Gingerly, Jotaro takes the box from your hands and holds it close. "Yes," he replies almost immediately. "I'd really like that."

"Cool." Jotaro carefully puts all the Valentine's candies in his bag, being extra-sure not to damage yours. Once he's done, you reach out and take his hand in yours. "Do you mind if I hold your hand?" you ask, noting his surprised expression.

He blinks and clears his throat, suddenly horribly flustered. "N-no. I don't mind at all." With a warm smile, you turn and head to the exit, pulling Jotaro along behind you. He really can't believe how lucky he is that you returned his feelings.

Outside, you both stand together in front of the school. "We can go to my house," Jotaro says, nodding his head in the direction of the route home. "But my mom'll be there."

"Sure! And I don't mind," you tell him with a little laugh. "I know you love her a lot, so she must be nice."

"...Yeah. Yeah, she's nice." Feeling happier than he maybe ever has, Jotaro walks with you down to the road. You're his best friend - you have been for a while - and he's so happy that you've become something more as well.

For White Day:

After one month of dating, you're not actually expecting to receive a gift from Jotaro. He's not a very material person; he prefers to show his love in more subtle, sensitive ways, and you appreciate it endlessly. However, on White Day, Jotaro surprises you with a delicate piece of jewelry! It's kind of obvious that he asked his mom for help in selecting it, but that makes it even sweeter.

-- Kakyoin --

Unlike his more popular classmate, Kakyoin really isn't used to getting Valentine's gifts. Since a very young age, Kakyoin has kept himself pretty isolated; he's never been very sociable. This led to him being labeled as rude and even a little intimidating, and he resigned himself to that fate.

However, when Kakyoin re-enrolled in Jotaro's school after returning from Egypt, things were a little different. Spending fifty days with four near-strangers had helped him open up, and after his dance with death in Cairo, he didn't want to waste a single day of his life. So, he approached his senior year with confidence and charisma - at least as much as he could muster - and to his delight, this ended up creating a beautiful friendship.

You've been best friends with Kakyoin since you wound up in the same class. You're both quiet, though you have an easier time socializing with your peers than Kakyoin does, and you both can be quite talkative once you've opened up to someone. It was during school lunch hour that you and Kakyoin really got to know each other, talking at length about anything either of you found interesting, and it was also during this time that Kakyoin developed a bit of a crush.

Now it's Valentine's Day, and Kakyoin refuses to let himself hope that you feel the same. Besides the crusaders, Kakyoin has never felt this close of a connection with someone, and he's terrified of letting an unrequited crush break it apart. He stands by his locker, trying not to look as anxious as he feels, and he watches out of the corner of his eye as students rush out of class to find their significant others. He's struck by a pang of loneliness as he observes two students lovingly exchanging Valentine's candy, and he tries to will the feeling away as he takes his bag out of his locker.

"Hey, Kakyoin!" He nearly jumps out of his skin when he shuts his locker and finds you smiling sweetly at him. "Shit, did I scare you?" you ask, your smile dropping.

"Yeah," he replies, laughing a little awkwardly. "Don't worry about it." He gets the last of his stuff together and throws his bag over his shoulder. "So how was math today?"

You give him something between a smile and a grimace. "Oh, you know - hell." You both laugh. "The test's next week, so at least I'll have time to study."

"We could study together!" Kakyoin suggests, then all in a rush he feels heat flood to his face. You blink, looking similarly flustered. After quickly shaking himself, he stammers out, "If-if you want to! If it's not weird or anything."

You clear your throat, hastily shaking your head. "Not weird at all! No, I'd love to." Phew. Kakyoin lets out a small exhale and nods. "But hey - can I talk to you for a minute? Over where we have lunch?"

Kakyoin frowns. He starts to ask if something's wrong, but he stops himself. "Oh - alright." Together, you and Kakyoin head over to the back of the school, underneath a large tree. This had been where the two of you met.

There's a solemn feeling to the air as you lean against the wall of the school, taking a quick breath. Kakyoin watches you nervously; he's actually managed to forget what day it is in his worry for you. "Is something the matter?" he asks gently, and you look up into his violet eyes. "If there's anything I can do, please let me know."

You grin, surprising Kakyoin, and suddenly you reach out and wrap your arms around him. "No, nothing's wrong," you murmur, and Kakyoin can hear the smile in your voice. If nothing's wrong, then what...? "I have something for you."

Kakyoin hesitantly lets you go, and you quickly reach into your bag. He almost forgets how to breathe when you pull out a little pink box with a red heart sticker on top. "I was kinda scared to do this, because I don't really know if you feel the same way that I do, but I figured I should try. Would you be my valentine?" With the most adorable grin, you reach out and offer him the box of sweets.

For a few moments, he can't figure out how to cohesively form words. As his mind searches desperately for a response, he carefully takes the box from you. "Yes," he finally forces out. "Yes, I would love that more than anything, (Y/N)."

You laugh out loud and stand up on your tip toes, pressing a kiss to Kakyoin's cheek; you laugh even harder when his face turns the same shade as his hair. "I'm so glad," you say softly. "I was really hoping you felt the same."

"Of course I do," he responds quickly. "You're wonderful." And he leans down and kisses you, and the motion is the most natural thing in the world.

For White Day:

Kakyoin's main goal for White Day is to show you just how much you mean to him, and how much he appreciates your love. He'd get you something that's connected to an interest of yours, whether it be a book from a series you enjoy, a new video game, or a clothing piece from a line you love. He wants the gift to be as personal as possible, and the greatest gift for him would be seeing the way your eyes light up as he gives it to you.

-- Josuke --

Valentine's Day is always the most hectic day of the year for Josuke. In fact, right now he's running full-speed out of his high school to try and avoid the horde of students who intend to shower him in Valentine's Day gifts.

He appreciates it, he really does, but after so many years of countless peers fawning over him, he's starting to get a little sick of it all. He doesn't really understand why they all like him so much; other than his sick pompadour, he's pretty sure he's just like any other guy.

He bursts through the front door and keeps going, racing past the train tracks and finally stopping in front of the cafe down the street from his house. He quickly grabs a table and throws himself into a chair, trying desperately to catch his breath. If he lays low here for a while, hopefully he'll be in the clear -

"What's up, Josuke?"

He whips his head around when he hears his name, but instantly he relaxes when he sees it's just you, his buddy who moved to Morioh only a few months ago. You're a good friend of Josuke's; ever since you were shot with the stand arrow and gained a new ability, you've been spending a lot of time with the other stand users in town - mainly Josuke. You're a really easygoing and lighthearted person, but at the same time you're smart and witty, and Josuke loves spending time with you.

"Seriously, what's going on? You look like you just ran a marathon."

Josuke laughs breathlessly and nods. "I did. I was trying to avoid the Valentine's crowd."

"The crowd...?" you ask, raising your eyebrows. Josuke gestures for you to pull out a chair and take a seat. As you sit, he rests his chin in his hand.

"Yeah. Every year I get totally swamped with Valentine's Day gifts. It's sweet, and I appreciate it, but it can be seriously overwhelming."

Josuke notes a change in your expression, but he can't quite place it; is it embarrassment? Either way, it's gone in a second, and you laugh a little. "Didn't know you were such a charmer," you tease, poking him in the arm, and he swats your hand away with a grin. "Seriously, though, that must be tough. Does rejection ever discourage them?"

"Not really, honestly. I guess I can admire their perseverance." Suddenly, a waiter arrives and asks the two of you if you'd like a drink. "Yeah," Josuke says quickly. "I'll have an iced tea. How about you, (Y/N)?"

You blink, looking a little stunned, and after a moment you order your drink of choice. As the waiter leaves, Josuke looks at you with a frown on his face. "You alright? You seem a little out of it."

You wave your hand through the air, smiling. "Nah, I'm good." After a little more chatting, the drinks arrive and you both enjoy your beverages.

After a few more minutes, you hesitantly say Josuke's name. "What's up?" he asks, raising his eyebrows.

"Ah..." You grin nervously, looking to the side. "I get that Valentine's Day is a sore subject for you, but - isn't this a bit of a Valentine's date?"

Instantly Josuke turns bright red. "Oh my God!" he breathes, totally mortified. "Are you - are you uncomfortable with that? If you are it's really no problem, I just wasn't thinking and - "

"No!" You reach out and grab Josuke's arm, looking at him with wide eyes. "No, I'm not uncomfortable at all. Are you?" He feels his heart skip a little at the sincerity in your eyes, and he shakes his head. "Okay." You let go of Josuke and reach down into your schoolbag, pulling out a small letter. "I really should thank you for dropping the perfect opportunity right in my lap." With a small smile, you set the letter down on the table. "Josuke, would you wanna be my valentine?"

There's something so genuine in your voice that makes Josuke nearly swoon. He can't believe he's never realized how sweet you really are. "Yeah," he says quickly, a grin growing on his face. "Yeah, that would be amazing."

"Really?" You laugh and lean across the table, giving Josuke a huge hug. His heart nearly skips a beat when he realizes you're purposely being careful with his precious hairstyle. "Oh my God, I'm so happy." You let go and lean back. "You scared the shit out of me with all that Valentine's Day talk."

Josuke laughs. "My bad. I'm glad I didn't scare you off." The two of you continue on your impromptu date, and Josuke tucks your letter into his pocket. He's excited to read it, and he's ecstatic to be your Valentine.

For White Day:

Josuke would want White Day to be a full-day experience; he'd take you anywhere, from the mall to the beach and even hours away to a theme park. He'd even skip class if need be! Being with you is so much fun, and he'd want his gift to reflect that. A day full of adventure would be the perfect encapsulation of your relationship.

-- Okuyasu --

Okuyasu has never been too serious about Valentine's Day. For a good portion of his life, he really didn't even have any close friends besides his brother, so romance was never even remotely in the picture for him. However, once he meets Josuke and the rest of his stand-user classmates, he starts to feel a little romantically inclined towards you, his closest friend in your already tight-knit group.

You're a complete goofball. Your favorite hobby is making people laugh, and you succeed wholeheartedly in that task whenever you're around Okuyasu. He finds you hilarious, and he finds it extremely sweet that you love making him smile so much. He likes to think that he does the same for you; you seem to like spending time with him, seeing that you do so pretty often.

When Valentine's Day rolls around, Okuyasu is completely prepared to confess. He's scared shitless, but he's so passionate about his feelings for you that he's willing to ignore any anxieties and make his feelings known. All day he suffers through his classes, playing the scene over and over in his head. It has three outcomes: either you accept and return his love, you reject his proposal but agree to be friends, or you flat out refuse him and cut all contact. He can't describe how terrified he is of the last potential result, but he forces himself to be courageous and persevere.

Finally, his last class ends, and he hurries to your locker. There you are, going through your books, and Okuyasu's breath catches in his throat at how lovely you look today. It might just be the adrenaline, but he's sure you look more beautiful than you ever have.

Nervously he approaches you, and you spot him before he can greet you himself. "Hey, Okuyasu!" you call, waving with a bright smile. "How's it going?"

"Alright!" he replies, his voice far too loud. "Just the same old, ya know?"

"Same here. I was just waiting to get out of class." You finish with your books and shut your locker, and you turn to him. "So what's up? Do you have any plans later?"

"No," he responds hastily. "Free schedule today. But, uh - " he takes a deep breath " - I did have something I wanted to talk to you about." Your eyes widen, and you smile a little.

"So did I! Yeah, there was something I needed to tell you too." You voice wavers a bit, and Okuyasu feels his heart pound even harder in his chest; are you onto him? Are you trying to shut down his feelings before he can mess up and reveal them? "Do you wanna talk outside? It's a little loud in here."

"Sure! Sounds good!" With a horribly forced laugh, Okuyasu follows you outside and into the school courtyard.

You take a seat on a little bench and Okuyasu plops down next to you. "So... I guess I should just tell you, then," you mumble, your voice totally uncharacteristic.

Sweating, Okuyasu vigorously nods his head. "Sure - well, maybe you'd like me to go first?" he offers; you sound oddly nervous.

You say something in reply, but Okuyasu's so stuck in his own head that he honestly doesn't hear it. He figures that it's now or never - Valentine's Day is dwindling to an end - so he reaches over and pulls his love letter to you out of his bag. After sucking in a deep breath, he turns and presents the envelope to you. "For you!" he announces, eyes squeezed shut, and he hears nothing in response until you start to laugh.

He opens one eye, and he nearly bursts into tears when he sees that you're holding a Valentine's Day gift of your own out to him. He feels laughter bubble up in his chest, and he bursts into laughter, setting the envelope on your lap and leaning back to let out a full belly laugh.

"We - we really both - " you wheeze, clutching your sides as you look up at Okuyasu with grinning, teary eyes. "Holy shit, dude! I can't believe it - " You're taken by another peal of laughter, and the two of you laugh and laugh for what feels like hours.

Finally, the hilarious moment winds down to a close, and you wipe the tears from your eyes. "Oh my God, Okuyasu. I'm so happy." You reach out and take his hands, and he nearly jumps at the contact. "I was praying you felt the same, I really was."

"So was I," he responds, grinning. "I love you, (Y/N), and I'd love to be your Valentine."

You gently raise his hand to your mouth and press a soft kiss to his knuckles. "Of course," you breathe, and Okuyasu is utterly smitten.

For White Day:

To Okuyasu, the greatest gift is something that is made with love. Therefore, he decides that the perfect White Day gift is a homecooked meal! He's been taking cooking lessons with Tonio for a good while, so he's fully equipped with the skills to make you a wonderful meal. He might slip up now and again in the preparation, but that's what makes a dinner cooked from the heart so special.

#my writing #jotaro x reader #okuyasu x reader #josuke x reader #kakyoin x reader #jojo's bizarre adventure #jojo imagine #jojo x reader #jotaro kujo #okuyasu nijimura #josuke higashikata #noriaki kakyoin #just barely got this in on valentines day man #happy feb 14th all!

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eutxrpe · 3 years

Text

hcs: reacting to their s/o singing

⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆ hcs: their reactions and what they think of your singing

pairings: midoriya x gn!reader; todoroki x gn!reader

warning: fluff, hurt comfort (and eyesore warning for these horrible banners 😔) ⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆

you were listening to music while cleaning your dorm room to pass the time!

now, you liked singing but you never jumped at the chance to do it in front of people. it seemed like the acoustics were much better when you were by yourself in the shower or at night on your bed.

so you hummed as you swept and dusted around the shelves and crevices of your room, enjoying the sleek look of the wood afterwards.

and then ‘love’ by keyshia cole came on.

and it would be completely disrespectful not to go completely in when belting that song.

“but i guess it was just make-believe... oh, love,” you closed your eyes as you took a break from cleaning just to completely take in keyshia’s iconic vocals.

izuku had been in the hallway on his way to your room, and as he was walking, he heard two melodious voices. they blended in the most pleasing way and when he got close enough to your door, he realized that it was you and your music.

he hadn’t ever heard you sing, just slight humming when you were happy or heard a song that you liked in passing. but now...

he was enamoured.

midoriya just stays outside your room for a few moments thinking about how talented you were and how lucky he is to be your boyfriend. 🥺🥺

“now you’re gone, what am i going to do? so empty, my heart, my soul can’t go on... go on without you.” you heard your door open and close with a soft click and you exclaimed when you saw izuku there with the most bashful, but blissful look on his face.

“wow, (y/n), you’re so good at singing! i can’t believe i’ve never heard you before, you’re amazing!” and even if you didn’t think you were, midoriya had no doubt in his mind that you weren’t every bit of talented that he thought you were. “do..would you mind singing more for me, sweetheart?”

and with his puppy dog eyes, you can’t even say no. they sparkled like the most polished jade as if you were in a... shoujo anime or something...

and finally, as the song’s last verse arrived, you shyly sighed before flashing izuku a smile.

“i don’t want you to leave. i... need you, love~” as you did so, deku took your hands and lovingly looked at you and those pretty eyes of yours. (he’s almost too grateful to have you in his life at this moment ngl)

and don’t worry, he needs you too. 🥺

he won’t really join in when you start to sing more around him except if it’s a disney song or you ask him with a pout, but he’ll always have the same dreamy smile on his face as the first time.

⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆

this boy... has heard you sing a couple times before this instance but it was the third time that really had him falling in love with your voice. shoto likes artists & songs that he can form an emotional connection to *cough j. cole and umi cough* and he doesn’t want you to think that he’s invading your privacy by commenting on your singing.

the first time he heard you singing, he was hooked. you were just doing the dishes, but you also had the audacity to have the most gorgeous voice? for shame...

as for the second time, he was coming to your dorm room to ask for one of his hoodies as you had stole them all lmao

but he caught wind of you singing along to one of your favorite songs. the happiness in your tone and the half-smile that graced your features when you opened the door had todoroki wanting to stay in your room and just listen and take in everything and anything that your voice could offer him.

in the end, he left you to your music, and he could feel his mood dim when the sound of your voice did not follow him down the hall.

but the time that had him really falling in deep was at night. you had a movie night for a date but didn’t want to go back to your dorm so quickly afterwards. with a blush, he offered that you just sleep in his dorm.

but shoto woke up in the middle of the night with a nightmare, panting under his breath.

you had woken up with the noise, and at seeing your boyfriend’s discomfort, you decided to do something.

stroking his hair and drying his tears, you murmured out a melody, voice still thick with sleep, but soothing nonetheless.

“i’m not asking for the shine of the moon...” and shoto’s heart flutters. the amount of love you show in his worst moments had him shedding one final tear.

when he looked up at you, the starlight from outside his window has doused you in the most beautiful glow and he knew that you really were his angel. “...i don’t need the world from you. just match how i feel and i’ll be comfortable.”

anyone who recognizes that song, i love you.

after that night, he really does begin to compliment you on how ethereal he thinks your singing is. 🥺

shoto won’t force you to sing for him in the future if you’re uncomfortable with the idea, but he cherishes the days when you do.

he probably calls you his siren when he thinks you’re sleeping shhhhh-

fin.

#bnha x reader #mha x reader #izuku midoriya x reader #midoriya x reader #shoto todoroki x reader #todoroki x reader #bnha x black!reader #bnha x reader fluff #someone tell me to stop making content that includes music 😩#i do too much lmfaoo #lmk if you want a part two with different characters!#deku x reader

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yellowbellbird · 3 years

Text

Under the Moonlight- Part 1 - Her

Once again, it was pouring with rain. You had been at the academy for a week, and every day had been much the same. Of course, you were happy to be here, it felt wonderful to be around other witches, to feel a true kinship to people, but something was wrong. Something inside of you was just wrong, and you didn't know how to fix it. It happened sometimes; you'd wake up and feel the familiar ache. The rain didn't help. You longed for a clear sky and sun. The memory of the sun beating down on your skin like a thousand sharp kisses made your soul ache with longing.

You'd made some friends in the academy, but mostly you kept to yourself. It's not that you didn't like them; you did. It's just something about connecting to people was difficult. The distance you had created was reassuring, and you felt slightly happy that you had protected yourself this way.

Bounding out of bed, you stretch for a moment and look at the clock. 5am. Why can't I sleep like an average person, you thought in frustration. Abandoning the idea of sleep, you throw on a thick cardigan and quietly head downstairs. Maybe there's a recipe for a sleeping draft you could find. You ponder the thought in excitement. The academy is entirely silent, the girls asleep in their rooms. Something about the academy in the moments you see it in silence makes you marvel at its safety.

A rustle in the kitchen makes you pause, someones here. You are filled with anxiety as your mind rushes through potential problems. Someone's broken in. It's a witch-hunter, the men Zoe told you about or something else wrong, but before you can get too worked up, you hear a familiar sigh. A voice you think you would know anywhere. Cordelia's. The headmistress and supreme of the coven. You'd only really caught glimpses of the woman in your week here. Zoe and Queenie had explained that some minor threat had kept Cordelia away from the girls.

The first time you saw her was in a transfiguration lesson. Zoe was showing the class how to change tulips into chocolates when a gorgeous blonde woman had whisked in, capturing your attention instantly. She pulled Zoe aside and spoke to her in a soft voice. You could only hear because you were sat quite close. You weren't really interested in the conversation, more the sound of the angelic woman's voice. It reminded you of beautiful music. The blonde stopped talking to Zoe and suddenly met your eyes. You turned away as quickly as you could and attempted to put all your focus on the tulip in your hand. When you were brave enough to sneak a look again, she was gone.

Every encounter since then had been much the same. Cordelia would whisk in for a moment and be gone in the next. Sometimes you noticed the other witches trying to get her attention and how she would smile lovingly but only engage in the shortest conversations with them. I'd learnt that this was unusual behaviour for her as the other witches complained about her sudden absence frequently. You felt mildly sad that you'd come to the academy at the only time this gorgeous woman seemed to be away from it.

Your mind snapped back as you heard her sigh come from the kitchen again. You debated going in and seeing her alone for the first time, but fear got the better of you, and you snuck past the kitchen and tiptoed into the greenhouse. It was a paradise under the soft moonlight, and instantly, you sighed in relief. The idea of a sleeping draft suddenly flooded back into your head, and you began searching through draws and under plants for anything you could use. Some of the draws were locked, and you realised you were making quite a bit of noise. The lack of sleep was making you clumsy. You sighed loudly in frustration.

You had an idea. You weren't untalented with plants; you knew they had energy, each different and unique. Maybe you didn't need a recipe and could make one on your own. An ambitious task, but you were bored of looking and besides, what else were you going to do.

Closing your eyes, you began to search for your feelings. The darkness behind your eyelids started to show colours. The plants began to hum in a way you could understand ever so slightly. You held your hands in front of your body and walked forward, quickly feeling lavender. Keeping your eyes closed, you picked a few stems of it. You became engrossed in this little ritual, moving amongst the plants, picking a leaf here and there. Only when you felt a considerable warmth behind you did you pause. Something light and powerful was pulling you back around, and keeping your eyes closed and your hands forward, you moved towards it. This was the final ingredient, you were sure. You reached up and felt something soft and hair-like in your fingers. You pulled at it to break it off.

"Ouch."

You jumped back, and your eyes flung open. Standing before you was Cordelia Goode. Dressed in a beautiful pink robe, she was rubbing her head and trying not to laugh.

"Cordelia! I mean Ms Goode. No wait supreme? Um.."

You were so shocked and embarrassed that your face burnt and you had no idea what to do.

"I'm so sorry, I didn't see you."

She looked at you curiously.

"One doesn't tend to see people with ones eyes closed."

You put the leaves you were holding on the desk behind you and used its weight to steady yourself.

"I didn't think anyone would be here. I was..."

Cordelia looks at you and then at the ingredients on the table.

"You were trying to make a sleeping potion?"

Through your embarrassment, you couldn't help but feel slightly proud that your intuition was correct. You let out a small laugh.

"Yeah. I looked for a recipe but I couldn't find one."

You gesture to the leaves and plants you collected. "I was just collecting what I felt drawn too."

You blushed once again at the thought of pulling her hair. She must think you're the craziest person ever.

"Well I'm impressed, you collected nearly everything."

Cordelia moves next to you to examine your ingredients.

"You're y/n right?"

You nod with a small smile.

"I'm Cordelia. I'm sorry I haven't been here to welcome you this week, there were some complications."

Her voice becomes dark, and it makes you shiver.

"Yes Zoe told me. Is everything okay?"

Her eyes soften as she looks at you.

"Yes dear, it's all sorted now. Nothing you need to worry about."

Cordelia sits down, and you watch the elegance in her movements, unable to take your eyes off her.

"Anyway, trouble sleeping?" She says with a small laugh that you echo.

"Yep. For the last 20 years in fact. I never could get that skill down."

Cordelia laughs, and you can't help but smile at the fact that you caused that laughter.

"Would you like some help making the potion? Well it's more of a face mask if we make the one I usually make."

You blush and shake your head.

"No no you really don't have too. I'm sure you're really busy."

Cordelia shakes her head and smiles the most beautiful smile, her lips captivating you.

"Nope. There's no threat to the coven so I'm free as a bird."

You laugh slightly at the expression you hadn't heard in so long.

"Aren't you tired?"

You ask, looking at the little dark circles under her eyes.

"I'm not a great sleeper either."

You search her face to see if she just feels sorry for you, but you see only honesty in her eyes.

"Then yes, I'd love the help. I have no idea what I'm doing."

You let out a breath you didn't know you were holding.

The next hour is lovely. You come to life in the presence of the supreme, laughing like you haven't in months. She asks about your interests and what you did before coming to the academy, and you ask her about herself. You talk about your greenhouse at home. She's very open, but you notice very brief when answering a personal question. You understand, though, she doesn't know you, and you're just her student. For a moment, you feel sad, but your face lights up again when she begins talking about how she discovered the sleep mask recipe. The awkwardness you initially felt evaporates, and suddenly you understand why the other witches missed her so much this week. She's like the sun. Completely warm and captivating.

"I think it's done."

Cordelia says, pulling her paste covered hands away. You look down at the brown covered paste she's made.

"Ew."

The consistency of the paste looks disgusting, and you frown at it. Cordelia playfully elbows your arm.

"Hey this stuff is a lifesaver, trust me darling you won't be saying that later."

Your heart stops at the pet name, and you think that if you weren't sat down, your legs would give way. Instead, you focus really hard on the horrible looking paste.

"We'll see. I've tried a lot of sleeping recipes and nothing has worked before."

Cordelia hums in acknowledgement.

"Ah but you've never tried anything made by me."

Once again, her voice makes you melt, and you try not to look into her eyes which only results in looking at her silk pyjamas which make your heart race. You look into her eyes now and see that she's looking at you softly.

"It's only 6 am. I think you could get a few hours of sleep in."

Cordelia takes the paste and puts it in a jar before moving to the sink to clean her hands. She moves back to the seat and opens the jar, taking a small amount and putting it on her thumb. She looks at you with her big chocolate eyes, and you melt under her gaze. You barely notice her lift her hand, but you shiver when her thumb traces a line on your forehead.

You hum slightly as a warmth encases your body and then blush before looking back at the stunning woman.

"It works quickly. Come on let's get you to bed."

You're about to protest and insist you can get there yourself, but your legs give way as soon as you stand up. Cordelia grabs your arms and holds you comfortingly against her body.

"I told you it would work."

You hum into her shoulder, your head struggling to stay up.

"Come on sleepy head."

Cordelia chuckles and puts an arm around your body, and begins leading you upstairs.

"Which ones your room? Y/N?"

You try to get words out, but for some reason, your mouth refuses to move. Everything is soft and dreamlike. You think you hear someone saying your name, but you're not sure. Your eyes flutter open, and you see yellow and pink before they shut again. You hum contently into the warm feeling inside your body and let your brain finally sleep.

Birds. You can hear bird calls. The noise is comforting, and you cuddle into it. You feel like you're in a warm cloud. You sink into the calm feeling and listen to the birds for a while whilst feeling comes back into your body. It starts as a tingle in your toes; you wiggle them contently. Feeling suddenly comes into your arms, and you feel yourself holding something warm. You hug it tighter in a state of bliss you've never felt before. This is the warmest perfect moment, the very moment you've been longing for. More feeling comes back, and you freeze up.

"Someone's awake I see."

Shit. Feeling starts coming back everywhere, and you realise it's not a blanket you're holding, but legs. You freeze completely as memories come flooding back to you: Cordelia, the greenhouse, the sleeping draft.

"Cordelia?"

You say softly and guiltily as if you're saying sorry. You peek open your eyes and see Cordelia's soft skin under your head. Her nightdress had ridden up, meaning you were holding her soft legs and laying in her lap. You felt fear and embarrassment seep into your cheeks until you felt her hand on your head stroking your hair.

"I'm sorry y/n. I didn't realise how strong the sleep mask was and I didn't know where your room was..."

Wait, you thought, she's embarrassed? You were literally clinging to her legs, and still, she thought she was at fault? The craziness of the situation gave you strength as you slowly moved your arms to free her legs.

"I'm the one who should be sorry. I've been holding you like a koala all night."

That earned you a soft chuckle, and you moved to sit up but ended up only lifting your head to look around. Taking in your surroundings, you saw that this was definitely not your room. It was sparsely but carefully decorated, light and open, and the bedsheets were the softest and comfortable you'd ever felt in your life.

"I like your room."

You mumble and rest your head back down. This time you move your head to lay next to Cordelia instead of on her.

"Thank you."

The husky but gentle way she says it makes you open an eye to look up at her. She's sat up watching you with wide eyes, and for a moment, you think you see the longing in them.

"Damn that sleep mud was amazing. I've never sleep that well in my life."

You don't know what possesses you to do it, but you wiggle your head slightly closer to her, so it's resting against her legs. You feel her hand return to your head again.

"I told you."

She says, and you can't be sure, but you think she's smiling. Keeping your eyes closed, you reach out a hand to feel the energy of the sun. By the angle of your hand, you deduce that it's almost nine o'clock.

"I have a class soon don't I."

You mumble in annoyance. You've just had the most perfect sleep of your life, and now you have to have classes. You sigh against Cordelia's leg.

"What did you just do?"

Cordelia whispers.

"Sighed?"

"No, how did you know the time?"

You freeze up as you realise what you have been trying to ignore—your gift. If any of the other girls had paid any real attention to you, they would have seen it, you weren't exactly hiding it, but you knew that nobody knew.

"I felt it. I felt the suns energy."

"Felt it how?"

Cordelia says in engaged wonder.

"It's how I found the ingredients for the sleep draft. The energy that every living thing has I can feel. It's better when I close my eyes, then I can see it."

You move your head to look up at Cordelia again. She's looking down at you.

"Amazing."

You feel your cheeks blush and move to sit up.

"I'm sorry if I caused you any inconvenience last night. I didn't mean to ..."

You trail off thinking of all the things you could apologise for, but she just smiles.

"Don't be."

Her voice is so silky and warm that it takes your breath away.

"I should go get ready for classes. Thanks again for the sleep draft."

She smiles warmly at you as you climb out of her bed and head for the door. You take one quick look back at her, and she looks like an angel. You pry your eyes away before you do anything else embarrassing.

A/n

If anyone’s reading this I really hope you are enjoying it! I have written quite a lot of this book and will post as often as possible. I’ll post it on Wattpad as well.

#sarah paulson #american horror story #cordelia x reader #cordelia goode

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dwellordream · 3 years

Text

“Pamphlets and ballads do not make the parallels between domestic and political tyranny explicit; nor do they explore the implications of the parallel, particularly the possibility that a wife's or servant's active resistance might be justifiable. Yet in narratives about murderous husbands, as in those about murderous wives, domestic violence reveals the contradictions that undermine marriage from within. These narratives particularly expose the violence that underlies, and is even produced by, the fiction of subsumption, of two becoming one. Rather than reproducing the "plots" most typical of actual instances of wife-killing- an angry husband who loses his temper, or "correction" (abuse) that escalates into murder- the pamphlets and ballads dwell on excessive, ingenious brutality.

Detailing husbands' violent refusals to act as protectors, partners, or lovers, these texts present the murders of wives as abuses not only of authority but of intimacy. They thus join with the accounts of petty treason that we have seen to articulate deep fears of sexual and domestic familiarities. In both kinds of narratives, spouses employ the physical vulnerability of the conjugal relation to assault rather than solace their partners' bodies. Representing particularly grotesque acts- throttling a bedridden invalid, clandestinely inserting poison into the vagina, roasting the murdered body as if it were meat- accounts of wife-murder depict husbands as enemies, rather than protectors or partners.

In presenting such intimate betrayals, many texts follow the model of the Judas kiss. After pretending to be reconciled to his pregnant wife, John Marketman, for instance, "took her about the neck Judas like as if he intended to kiss her, and all on a sudden thrust his accursed knife into, if not through her poor Heart, so that she fell down dead upon the spot." Another jealous husband, William Tite, perched his wife on his knee, kissed her and spoke lovingly to her, then "put his hand under her Apron, and ript up her bowels and belly, insomuch that the child which was in her womb, fell out on the ground, and sprawled before him." Thomas White, sitting close beside his wife, slowly and secretly maneuvered the point of his "scimiter" into his "pocket-hole" and "as he sate close by Her, he forc'd it in at her right Breast, and through her Body" to the amazement of others present in the room.*

In all these cases, the husband not only exploits his wife's trust and physical proximity but acts out his betrayal in an unseemly way. Hunt reviewed consistory court wife-beating cases from 1711 to 1713 and relates: "One often gets the sense, reading these cases, of acts designed specifically for an audience. Men persistently abused their wives in front of relatives." " Similarly, representations of those husbands who kill their wives depict the murders as simultaneously intimate and theatrical. Pornographically conjoining violence, eros, and performance, the murders force into visibility a disturbing connection between marital sex and violence against women. The Examination, Confession, and Condemnation of Henry Robson Fish of Rye, Who Puysoned His Wife in the Strangest Maner That Hitherto Hath Bin Heard of (1598) explores this connection in even more extreme terms than the popular texts that begin with conjugal and end with the wife's disembowelment.

In this pamphlet, the profligate Robson secs his wife's life as an obstacle to his release from debtor's prison. To eliminate her, another prisoner advises Robson to mix ratsbane and ground glass, and wrap this mixture "in the skinne of a shoulder of mutton, to the quantity of a hasle nut, or lesse, and in the night when his wife should next come to lie with him, [Robson] should convey it into her privie parts, which bee would warra[ n ]t without danger to him shuld kill her." When Robson's wife next pays him a conjugal visit, by "a dissembling shew of friendship" he "constrain[ s] her to stay all night," during which time she enjoys "the dearest nights pleasure that ever woma[n] had." Those scholars who have commented on this text sanitize Robson's act.

One describes Robson's method as "filling his wife's genitals with a mixture of ratsbane and ground glass while she slept," although the text suggests that she was having sex with her husband, not sleeping; another describes Robson as "introducing rat poison into her vagina," decorously evading the means by which Robson "introduces" his carefully prepared depository." Clearly, Robson uses sexual penetration to poison his wife. Although the wife expects "pleasure" from sexual intercourse, physical intimacy empowers her husband to kill her "without danger to him," rather than mystically transforming husband and wife into "one flesh."

An account of a less devious murder, A True Rendition of the Most Humble Murther Committed by Thomas White ... upun the Body of His Wife Mrs. Dorothy White (1682), reveals a similar concern with the complexities and dangers when spouses become one flesh occupied by antagonistic wills. Citing Genesis ("'This is now Bone of my Bone, and Flesh of my Flesh"), the title page asserts the husband's obligation to love his wife as he loves himself. The text then recounts the breakdown of this marital ideal; through his "vitious Practices" and "the Abuse of Himself with lewd Women," Thomas White contracts "that Disease which commonly is the Consequence of Uncleanness" and transmits it to his wife: "'Thus you see a Man, who by the Laws of God and Common Natural Duty, was Bound by all lawful means to take Care for the Welfare and Preservation both of the Souls and Bodie, of his Wife and Children, Contriving and Resolving the Ruine of both."

After White infects his wife, he proceeds to threaten her against disclosure so that she does not seek adequate medical attention; the text presents his subsequent murder of her as the logical consequence of neglecting to cherish her flesh as his. In some accounts of the murder of husbands, a wife's infidelity leads to her husband's death; in these two texts, a wife's fidelity enables her husband to kill her, suggesting the dangers of "due benevolence" for women. Like discussions of wife-beating, then, these texts explore what it means to be one flesh when the occupants of this shared body are at odds. The construction of husband and wife as one flesh, like the legal fiction that the husband subsumes his wife, assumes that the husband's and wife's interests correspond.

In a vivid, often-cited image, Milton explicitly links the failed ideal of one flesh to tyranny. When husband and wife are incompatible, "instead of becing one flesh, they will be rather two carkasses chain'd unnaturally together; or as it may happ'n, a living soule bound to a dead corps, a punishment too like that inflicted by the tyrant Mezentius.” While Milton assumes that the husband is the victim of tyranny, writers more concerned that husbands themselves may act as tyrants similarly insist that the degeneration of "one flesh" into "two carkasses chain'd unnaturally together" subverts constructions of the subject and the couple as stable, self-preserving, cohesive: ''The wife is as a mans selfe. They two are one flesh. No man but a frantike, furious, desperate wretch will beat himselfe"; "What man will be so wicked as to strike, and beate, and ban, and curse his own flesh which is his lawful and absolute wife[ ? ]"

Yet accounts of wife-beating and wife-killing suggest that the masculine subject, and therefore the corporate subject forged when he subsumes his wife, could be fragile, fragmented, and self-destructive. Examining cases brought against brutal husbands in church courts, Martin Ingram argues that the community judged such men's domestic violence as a symptom of uncontrol and abnormality. For instance, in five cases of excessive, life-threatening wife-beating in Wiltshire, "all of the husbands involved showed signs of mental disturbance or instability." .. , One account of a husband's murder of his wife suggests that legal, literary, and moral texts so consistently attributed murderous husbands' actions to madness that husbands themselves might have exploited this convention.

The Bloody Husband (1653) presents Adam Sprackling as dispassionately calculating his own insanity defense immediately after murdering his wife. According to a servant's testimony, Sprackling, who "loved his Dogs better than he loved his Wife," enjoined the servant to help him slaughter them: "Now let us kill the Dogs, and then they'll say we are mad indeed."' Subsequently, Sprackling pleads in court "that he was mad when he kill'd his Wife; and that he knew not what he did." .... According to The Bloody Husband, Sprackling manipulates the convention of the mad husband, and even his public persona ("He loved his Dogs better than he loved his Wife."), to defend himself.

The servant's testimony that Sprackling calculated the effect of slaughtering the dogs combined with testimony that Sprackling "was of an habitual bloody disposition and practise" undermined the strategy and led to Sprackling's conviction. The narrative framing here (the story of the story that Sprackling devises) and the function of the courtroom as an arena of competing narratives draw attention to a cultural perception, produced and transmitted through popular accounts of actual crimes, that a man who would murder his wife was no longer a representative of order or authority. Like the emphasis on their instability, the emphasis on murderous husband's tyranny suggests that their actions bear no relation to acceptable assertions of domestic authority and reveal nothing about the distribution of power in marriage.

Two Horrible and Inhumane Murders Done in Lincolneshire (1607), for instance, describes how John Dilworth silences his wife's justifiable complaints with several blows to her head, makes a fire, and then, "like a terrible torturing tyrant, tooke uppe the dead carcase, and laide it thereon, clothes and all, not forgetting to hang uppe blankets and coverlids before the windowes, to the end to hide the light this great fire did cast." By offering the demonic image of Dilworth reveling before his wife's smoldering corpse, "as it were rejoycing at that his most hatefull, horrible, and hellish fact, like a most gracelesse and mercilesse miscreant," the text sidesteps the issue of the husband's responsibility; at the same time it qualifies his claims to authority. Such exaggerated, grotesque characterizations evade the relationship between wife-murder and the dominant ideology of male supremacy.

…Like the peers who tried Castlehaven and the narratives circulating about his trial, however, most pamphlets and ballads deny transgressive husbands' attempts to justify their actions, labeling their interpretations of coverture as criminal and crazed. By the eighteenth century, conduct literature, legal discourses, and popular literature demonized wife abuse and "rhetorically" displaced it onto the lower classes, so that "wife beating became, for literate people, a particular mark of the inferiority and animality of the poor." Anticipating this trend, pamphlets remove "terrible, torturing tyrants" like John Dilworth from the continuum of husbandly authority, foreclosing the interrogation of husbandly power and its limits. While Heywood's An Apology for Acton ( 1612) suggests that murderous wives lurk everywhere in the disguise of the familiar and innocuous, a text such as Two Horrible and Inhumane Murders suggests that murderous husbands are monstrous exceptions, not husbands whose "legitimate" correction of their wives gets out of hand.”

- Frances E. Dolan, “Revolutions, Petty Tyranny, and the Murderous Husband.” in Dangerous Familiars: Representations of Domestic Crime in England, 1550 - 1700

#cw: domestic violence #cw: infanticide #frances e. dolan #history #renaissance #tudor #elizabethan #jacobean #stuart #dangerous familiars

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help-im-a-gay-fish · 4 years

Text

The Birth of Sun and Moon. Part two.

Part 1, Part 3 baby blues

The following in part 2 of 3 of a piece of writing about the birth/spawning of the Dark-Cream ship kids Celestial star and Luna light.

This takes place in a universe separate to @zu-is-here dark cream story and splits of somewhere around 'the price of happiness'. Any continuity errors should be accepted as being part of an alternative timeline.

Synopsis: a few days after the last piece of writing. Dreams soul spawns the twins. It happened out of no where. Confused and alone. How will cross react?

Why.

How?

Why.

These (for the most part) where the only things going through Shattered's mind, as he lay on the floor of the void, where he'd collapsed a few minutes before. He lay almost paralysed. Unmoving.

His eyes were locked on it. A tiny little thing. It was completely covered in the gloop and wasn't moving at all. If Dream hadn't known any better, he'd have thought that it was just a lump of gloop.

But he knew better.

It had started with a leach from his soul. Then a deep and sudden pain. It had been a very painful experience. Though not the most painful, that prize would always belong to his corruption, his consumption of the golden apple and being turned to stone. Yeah, the pain hadn't been anywhere near the pain of those events.

However, it's suddenness had made it the most shocking. It had felt like his whole body had been shocked with electricity and burned with fire all at once. Then it felt like his soul was splitting apart, he supposed it kind of had been.

Was it... Was it dead?

Dream moved his hand underneath his chest and attempted to push himself up. However his arms gave out under him and he weakly fell back down onto his chest. It still hurt to move his body. He felt even more drained then he did after to much positively.

Shattered didn't take his eyes of the gloop. He waited for it to move. It still didn't.

Come on Dream! He thought to himself. He couldn't just lay on the floor until Cross came back. After taking a deep breath, he attempted to push himself up again. His body complained as he did so. Through gritted teeth, he pushed himself into a sitting position.

His body ached and complained, but now he was sat up.

It still hadn't moved.

Maybe it was dead. It wouldn't surprise him if it was. His soul was very damaged due to the corruption, so it wasn't a good soul for spawning. It had never been an issue before, since he'd never wanted or even thought he'd be in a place to have children.

However, a trickle of sadness ran through him, as he stared at the un-moving blob.

This child was un wanted, but no person could ever be happy about a child being born dead.

It hurt a bit, although he knew it couldn't be helped. He could never be a parent anyway. It wasn't really in his nature. On top of that, Cross had never expressed a desire to have children to him, so... maybe it was better this way.

It also hit him that since the spawn with accidental, it was most likely a unpure spawn. Unpure and born from a corrupted soul? There was no telling what that could cause. So in the end he started to feel relieved.

Despite that, it would probably hurt Cross if he found out about it..... So he should dispose of the body as soon as possible.

After a brief pause, Shattered summoned a tentacle. It hurt a lot more then normal and felt a lot heaver then he was used to. It fell limp at his side. He truly hated these tentacles, they brought him so many painful memories. He'd swarm off using them unless absolutely necessary. The pain was subsiding now, but it was still ever present. Slowly and carefully he lifted the tentacle up and moved it over to the blob

He curled it around it and tugged slightly. But then something happened.

There was an ear splitting screech and suddenly it sprung to life.

Dream jumped backwards, then shuffled back. He continued to shuffle backwards until his back hit the sofa.

His soul hammered in his ribcage. What. The. Hell.

His eye lights locked onto the blob again, it was now moving. Squirming, convoluting and making a most uncomfortable gargling noise. 1000 thoughts and ideas ran through his mind in an instant. But in the end he settled on one.

It was alive, he was a parent.

This thought froze him in his place. He could no longer feel the pain rippling through his bones, or his soul racing. He felt nothing but numb.

It continued to wriggle and started to cry. It was in distress and was calling for him. But feeling nothing, he simply continued to watch it rive in pain.

So many times he had heard people talk about an instant love. An instant connection to their children the moment they are born, a special feeling from deep in the soul. People said it was the most amazing feeling. Like a feeling of being complete. But Shattered felt......... nothing.

The gargling and crying continued, but now it just felt like background noise to him. He just stared.... spacing out.

He didn't notice as Cross returned to the void, he didn't notice as Cross approached the scene and he didn't notice as Cross bombarded him with questions about what had happened? where the gloop had come from? and what the blob on the floor was.

But what he did notice was Cross approach the wriggling mass and wrap his coat around it, picking it up gently. He noticed as Cross rocked it slowly from side-to-side and he noticed as it quieted down and stopped screaming.

He blinked. "Cross..?"

Cross looked over at him, "Dream... why is there a baby here? where did this come from?! Are you alright?"

Now that Dream has been snapped back to reality, the pain that ran through his bones hit him again. He winced slightly and leant his head back against the sofa.

"I.... I guess... I spawned..... I don't know how to describe it properly"

He felt suddenly very weak and very dizzy again. The gravity of the situation was crashing down upon him. Now that Cross knew about it, there was no going back.

Cross simply stared at him for a moment, then back at the tiny creature.

"........ Are you saying that this is your baby?" he paused for a moment before adding "or.. our baby?"

Dream slowly nodded.

Cross had a look of pure disbelief on his face. "How? why? How it this even possible?"

He rocked the tiny creature a slightly.

Shattered simply stared at him. He felt slightly disheartened that cross hadn't seemed to notice he was in a bad state, but he figured that the situation must have just been a big shock to Cross.

"it's...." he said running his hand across his face "an energy being thing.... I'm not really fully sure about how it works myself.... it must have been something to do with when we were soul touching"

Cross continue to rock the tiny bundle. The gloop started to drip down his arms slightly from where it's still covered the baby. He didn't seem to even notice and didn't seem to be listening to Dream anymore.

It was then Dreams saw something that truly made his heart drop.

Cross smiled.

Dream could see it right then and there in his eyes and in his face. The happy, natural, instant connection kind of starry-eyed Love. The one people claimed to feel upon first seeing their child. The same kind of love that Shattered had been unable to feel.

His soul twisted in his chest: he felt truly horrible. He wanted to cry but decided it was better not to.

Cross walked over to Dream and carefully sat by him.

Dream could now see Cross had wiped off the majority of the gloop from the child. They seemed to be sleeping now and they seemed peaceful.

But then something else court Dreams eye, a tiny little of light next to them. A second being. There were two.

"twins.."

Dream said, his voice shaking slightly. Twins!? was this some kind of a cruel joke. Was life trying to make a mockery of him? It wouldn't be the first time.

"Twins!?" Cross said, turning to dream "what are you talking about?"

Dream simply sighed and gestured slowly to the tiny ball of light. It moved slightly.

"that's what energy beings look like upon their birth" he said. He was so defeated.

Cross felt another rush of joy follow through him. But this soon faded as Cross finally noticed his partner's condition. Dream looked more exhausted and drained then he'd ever seen him. He felt like an idiot.

"Wait.... are you alright? you don't look so good Dream"

Dream gave him a sidewise glance. Finally he noticed.

If today had been a normal day, Dream would have taken the opportunity to mess with him a bit. After all, playing with Cross was always fun.

But today? It wasn't a normal day. He just wanted a hug.

"it's just the process is very straining.... I'll be fine..... my soul just needs to rest for a while"

With that Cross seemed relieved and turned his attention back to the baby. He nuzzled it slightly. Dream looked away from the scene.

".........."

Dream felt himself wishing to cry again. No Dream. Stay strong.

"look..... I didn't know or I would have told you" he said quietly "I had no idea... I'm sorry about this. I know you didn't really want children"

Cross let out a light chuckle.

"Are you kidding? this one of the greatest gifts you've ever given me" he smiled softly.

Dream looked back to him instantly. "What!?"

Cross turned to his lover.

"I'd always accepted that I'd never be able to have children... and I was fine with that because I had you, but now... " He smiled wider

"I know that your whole thing is shattering dreams but right now you've made another one of mine come true".

Cross kissed him on the forehead and nuzzled him lovingly.

"I love you so much you know"

Normally a kiss or a nuzzle from Cross would have made Dream's soul skip a beat. But right now, it made him feel sick. Truly and utterly sick.

Resting his head on Cross' shoulder, he relaxed his body weight against him. It was all to much. Way to much. He couldn't take it. He just wanted it to stop.

Maybe he could just rest for a while and when he woke up this will all just be a bad dream.

He closed his eyes and slipped unconscious.

***************

Part 2 yay! So happy! @zu-is-here I hope you like this like the other part.

Thank you everyone! Part 1 was taken very well, so I hope this is a good follow-up! Thank you for reading.

Original cross and dream belong to jakei95 and jokublog

Original shattered dream belongs to @galacii

Dark cream comic and story is by @zu-is-here

The Dark cream twins belong to me :)

@official-darkxunshine-kids

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tf2-hellhole · 4 years

Note

Do you have any Parent!Merc headcanons? (Honestly, all of your content clears my skin and waters my crops)

Awww I’m glad you like my blog!! I kinda based this off of my merc retirement headcanons btw

Scout:

When his first kid is born/adopted, he’s really nervous. He doesn’t know if he can be a good parent for his kid, and the idea of letting his child down the way his father let him down terrifies him. It takes a lot of comforting from his S/O to make that anxiety go away.

Whenever the baby cries in the middle of the night, he always gets up to go to them, every time. He’ll fix whatever is upsetting and will just sit with them until they go back to sleep, silently and lovingly watching over them before going back to cuddle his S/O if they woke up too.

He’s the friend-dad type. The kinda guy who runs around the house playing tag with his kids and eventually breaks something by bumping into a table.

He will absolutely teach every single one of his kids to play baseball. They have broken seven windows while practicing, some of them the neighbors’ windows.

He will show up to PTA meetings, and he WILL throw tons of shade at the asshole soccer mom

Soldier:

Soldier is so unbelievably excited when the child is brought home. Finally, he’s a dad!

Will unironically tell his baby to stop being lazy and to get up and help around the house.

He’s a little strict but he’s actually an excellent parent. His S/O was actually a little worried about how he would be with the kids but he spends a lot of time with them and they have a great relationship

He’s that parent who shows up to every band concert/sports game/whatever and screams encouragement from the crowd. He has been kicked out of several events.

He’s always encouraging his children to put in lots of effort and work towards achieving their dreams. He’d like his kids to join the military, but he surprisingly doesn’t complain if they don’t

Pyro:

Pyro is excellent with babies and children, though they can’t care for them. Like, he can play with and entertain a baby and is very careful with one, but he doesn’t know how to properly feed, bathe, or clothe it. That part of raising the child is more up to their S/O.

Somehow, they can get the baby to go to sleep very easily

They’re always wanting to go on fun adventures with their S/O and kids on the weekends. They all travel all over and it’s really fun.

Annual Disneyland trips are mandatory

Overall, Pyro is the fun parent and they have an excellent relationship with their kids. But the dynamic is more like the S/O raising a few normal kids and one larger kid that has a job.

Has a very cute nickname for each kid, each one related to some kind of candy or small animal. Only their S/O and kids know about it, since they always wear their mask in public.

Demo:

Demo absolutely panics when he learns that his S/O is pregnant/wants to adopt. He wants kids but he’s really convinced that he can’t raise a child, and he’s scared that his S/O will leave him over this. He literally has a panic attack and needs to be comforted by his S/O.

His S/O acknowledges that he’s not perfect, but they know that if he really wants kids, he can put in the effort to change for the better. With their encouragement, he goes into rehab and after several attempts he manages to quit drinking.

But this also results in Demo’s family distancing him more over the fact that he knows what his parent’s methods of raising him did to him and doesn’t want that for his kid. After this, the only person who will still talk to him is his mother, but he couldn’t care less.

He’s a surprisingly responsible father, but he’s still very playful with his S/O and children.

He’s very physically affectionate. He always gives his little children lots of cuddles and tickles and playful kisses to make them laugh. Once they’re grown, he always hugs his daughter(s) when he sees them and gives his son(s) the handshake-bro-hug because he’s the cool dad

Heavy:

While his S/O are trying to find children to adopt, he falls for all the kids who have been through the most. He wants to give them the future they’ve been denied by the circumstances of their life. He will demand to adopt any Russian immigrant children if they find any

He hates how he intimidates the children with his size when they’re first brought home. There are a few nights he can’t sleep because of how horrible he feels about it, and even fewer where he has to be comforted by his S/O the whole night.

He finally gets his children to trust him with reading. If they’re little kids, he’ll read to them all the time. If they’re older, he’ll buy them books of their favorite genre and will probably try reading it himself so he can discuss it with them. It totally works.

He’s a very, very good listener. His kids will often go to him for advice, even once they’re adults. He’ll listen attentively and he won’t say a word until they’re finished speaking, then he’ll give his thoughts. It’s almost like therapy.

Engie:

Engie is a family man, through and through. He’s always dreamed of having a family and he’s so excited that he’s finally made it!

He’s always giving his kids tons of encouragement, and he is always reminding them of the value of hard work and lots of effort.

Once his kids are old enough, he has them help him around his ranch and teaches them to ride horses.

He loves to take his family to all sorts of fun places on weekends and vacations. His personal favorite place to take them is the rodeo, of course.

He barbecues and grills stuff all the time. It’s one of his favorite things to do, and will definitely teach his kids how to do it. His kids are always excited for the weekend because that’s usually when he has the time to grill, and some of his kids will pout if he doesn’t have the time to do it.

He loves telling people about his kids. He’s so proud of all of their accomplishments and loves them all dearly.

Medic:

He’s actually kind of distant from his child for the first few years of having them in his life. It causes some tension between him and his S/O. But after a while, he sees that this is what his parents were like to him. He remembered how little they cared for him, and how much that hurt him. So he makes an effort to bond with his child, and over a long while they eventually become very close.

His child will absolutely also have an interest in the human body, and will often join their father in the lab, even if Medic’s S/O thinks it’s not safe for them. Most of their bonding is over their shared interest

He lowkey spoils his kid, but he’s very good about not taking it so far that they become a brat. He doesn’t want his kid to be like he was when he was young.

He loves traveling with his family, and he’ll take them all over the globe. He encourages his child to learn a language other than German and his S/O’s language and to study in another country for a while. He absolutely wants them to get a higher education. He doesn’t understand if his child chooses not to, but he still supports them.

Sniper:

He misses his S/O and kid(s) so much when he’s out working for several days, but he has to get money to support them. He has a bunch of pictures he keeps in his camper for when he misses them or feels lonely.

When he calls to see how his family is doing, he always has to talk to his kid(s) and ask them how their day was, and how school was.

He loves to take his kid(s) out into the wild and teach them about plants and animals and all sorts of things about nature. By the time they’re 18 they’re practically an expert on the ecosystem of where they live.

He definitely teaches his kid(s) to use a bow or gun once they’re older, even if his S/O tells him it’s unsafe. It’ll be he and the child’s little secret.

He’s a surprisingly playful and affectionate parent, and is always getting up to all sorts of shenanigans with them.

He has a bunch of silly nicknames for them, most of them animal names. He probably started jokingly calling his S/O his ‘roo and his kid(s) his joey(s), but it eventually sticks.

Spy:

Like Medic, he’s a little cold to the child for the first few months after they’re adopted, but he sees how much this hurts and worries his S/O, so that’s when he starts making an effort to bond with them. It’s pretty awkward at first but he eventually becomes close with them. He does this by taking the child wherever they’d like to go and basically getting them whatever they want.

Spy sometimes cries quietly during the night with his partner there to comfort him. He never thought he’d have a family of his own, and he doesn’t know what he did to deserve his S/O or his child.

He will absolutely make sure his child knows how to defend themselves. He’s still paranoid that his enemies will find his family someday despite how good he is about keeping his connection to them secret, so he teaches them to fight with no weapons and with some small melee weapons.

If his child is homeschooled, (they probably will be) he teaches as many lessons as he can. He’s kind of an asshole teacher at first but after receiving some pointers from his S/O, he becomes a very patient and gentle teacher.

#tf2 #teamfortress2 #tf2 x reader #tf2 headcanons #tf2 imagines #tf2 scout #tf2 soldier #tf2 pyro #tf2 demoman #tf2 heavy #tf2 engineer #tf2 medic #tf2 sniper #tf2 spy #tf2 x s/o

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goatbi · 3 years

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When You Make A Demon Sad, So He Adopts You Chapter Eleven

Quick thing: Gordon’s pretty much having a panic attack through out most of this chapter. He’s also focusing a lot of religious bullshit and transphobic comments made by family, as well as kind of gas lighting himself, cause yes, the parents were psychically abusive, and he blames himself for that. He’s not doing good. So be warned when you venture under the cut!

There were three things that Gordon was sure of in this moment.

First? He had the box clutched in his arms like a life line, heavy and terrifying, held in his shaking arms with fear building up in his throat as he continued to walk.

Second? He wasn’t on campus anymore. He had fled awhile back, not quite running, but not slow either, putting distance between him and the dorm as quickly as he could without raising too much suspicion.

Third? Gordon was horribly, terribly alone.

His chest hurt from breathing so heavily, hands shaking as he clutching tightly onto the box, fingers going white with the force, tears streaking down his face without him really knowing or acknowledging them.

Everything was bad. Everything hurt, it was too much and crushing him with the weight of it.

Why couldn’t they just leave him alone? Why couldn’t they just accept they never had a daughter? It was so easy, Gordon had never been feminine, even from the start, had always preferred mirroring his father whenever possible, no matter their attempts. It should have been obvious, easy to accept, but no, it never was. Nothing was ever easy with them.

Everything connected back to God, didn’t it? God had made you perfect, baby girl, why can’t you accept that, why can’t you just be good for us, can’t you see how it’s hurting your family? Don’t you care, don’t you love us? Don’t you realize being you hurt us, hurts the almighty creator that made you perfect as you are?

Why are you throwing away His gifts, our perfect little girl?

Gordon hated it, hated them with such a burning passion that it scared him. How could he hate them? They weren’t that bad of parents. They didn’t hurt him when he didn’t deserve it. Why couldn’t he just be grateful to them?

God, his head hurt, it hurt so bad, everything hurt. Why did everything hurt?

He wasn’t moving anymore. Standing outside nowhere, arms curled around this horrible little box, holding too much for him to completely unpack, even if it was just one item, one little cross.

Gordon fell to his knees in the middle of the grass. He was on grass? Where the hell was he. It didn’t matter. What mattered was the shaking, crushing feeling that surrounded him, stealing the breath from his lungs, wrapping itself around him like a blanket made of fiberglass, heavy and sharp where you’d think it would be comfortable and safe.

The world around him sounded muffled, like there was water in his ears, ruining any chances of him finding anything around him comforting, as the pain his chest formed a beast of it’s own, claws sharp as it tore apart his lungs and his heart, sinking teeth into the muscles and ruining him completely from the inside out, chest stuttering as he tried to breathe through it. What was the pattern, the pattern, there was a pattern somewhere.

No matter what, the words being said to him did not come through, no matter who wonderful the voice was, how safe it would be to sink into it, Gordon drowned in a sea of needles and glass, tearing him into pieces in the name of a God who had turned His back on him long ago, years before this point.

There were hands around his box, tearing it from his grip, and Gordon collapsed into someone’s chest moments later, feeling them wrapping their arms around him, warm and comforting, and safe, in the way one would think the angels would be, but deep down, Gordon knew this was no angel, that the angels had no place for something broken as he, that his wonderful demons had come for him, and Gordon broke, sobbing heavily into his chest, clinging to his burning sun of a demon.

It still hurt to breathe, as glass scraped it’s way free from torn apart lungs, but it was easier, with them, here, surrounding him, as the collided with him one by one, clawed hands wrapping around him to keep him safe rather than drag him down like he had always been told, lifting him into their arms, holding him safe and lovingly in a way Gordon had forgotten could exist, and it was safe, warm, and perfect, the way heaven had been described to him years ago, when he was young and small, scared of the God who would hate him for anything it seemed.

But this was not heaven, these were not angels, and there was no God here for him.

There were demons, wonderful flawed and beautiful demons, holding him close and safe from the drowning sea, the monsters built up in his own chest, putting him back together, not in the way they saw fit, but the way the puzzle was supposed to fit back together, the way Gordon was supposed to be, proper and whole, and he shook at the realization, and clung to his demons, clung to them all in hopes they understood what they meant to him by now, how easily he had gotten attached.

Desperately, he hoped, that they knew. That they understood. Until the point he could explain it, he hoped.

#hlvrai #half life vr but the ai is self aware #gordon freeman hlvrai #hlvrai demon au #GOD i dont konw what this is but i love it #Feelings in Various Ways

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renzu-valra · 3 years

Text

Mindless/Soulless ; Obsessive/Possessive (#12)

Characters: Nozaki/Nobushige ♦ Region: Ishgard ♦ Time: Present Hosted by: @sea-wolf-coast-to-coast Warnings: mind-break, blood, mild mention of body horror; non-canon compliant

I had a purpose. A reason for being here—now; drenched in sweat and cold frost. There had been a reason why I ran through the bitter storm and dark unfamiliar streets. Something I had been searching for. Something important.

But the moment I turned my gaze upwards into that second story window, my purpose had filtered away like treated water. My legs lost their balance and my knees hit the ground hard. All that rage and anger which led me here in the first place had been cleansed from my mind, and all that remained was a blank space. A vast, white void where my thoughts used to spiral out of control. I couldn’t think anymore—nor ration these turn of events. For in the closed window of what seemed to be a manse, I saw my entire life flash before my eyes.

And I could not bear it.

I saw my brother.

For years, I had thought about what I would do if I found him again; what it would be like. What I would do and say…how I’d run to greet him and with that one embrace, all the sins I had committed until that point would be expunged from my back. But now that it was finally happening, I couldn’t do anything at all but stare.

He was running a comb through his wetted hair…slowly and with care. Just as I would do for him when we were young. With him seated atop my lap as I wove a damaged comb through his hair gently so as to not tug on any knots. His hair had grown much longer since then. And the comb he used now was of far better quality. Every time he brushed his straight hair down, I felt more of my consciousness slip away.

My ambitions and fears, returning to dust. And then, his neatly tucked night-robe slackened over his collarbone as he set his comb down onto the vanity afore him and made to tie his hair up in a loose ponytail. The white of his silk gown nearly matched the tone of his skin—his smooth, unblemished skin. He appeared as if an angel. A winged goddess of the sky. Even when he rose to stand, his full frame now in view, I felt unworthy. I was but an ant, and he, the radiant sun.

Don’t go. Don’t go.

As he walked away from the window and my image of him began to wane, I pleaded silently for him to stay. My legs knew they could yet run—run to him and force a reunion—but it was as if my brain had willingly severed the connection binding my limbs to my will. I was kept hanging on a thread as he vanished from my sight. Hanging, and so desperately wanting. Wanting, for the noose to tighten.

Like a shotgun pushed against my head, the trigger seconds from being squeezed, he appeared before my eyes once again. A book held affectionately in his slender hands. Forgo the cold and my sub-temperature body. I was at peace. And soon, I would meet my end. As he reclaimed his seat by the window, his thumb making to turn the cover over…as his fingers trailed atop the paper inside…I heard it. The sound of a trigger popping. Bang.

His thin white gown clung tautly against his curved figure, soaking up the remnants of water post bath. The tails of his robe decorated with ornate lace befitting a queen. Nothing like the rags we had worn as children. Everything like what I envisioned him wearing whenever I laid eyes on him after a day riddled with strife and woe. He was beautiful, and I could stare forever at the way his untucked bangs curled and slid against his scaled cheeks. With each flip of the page, I found something new—something old—about him to admire. I had once protested against him wearing his hair up until I realized I could better see his smile. I had wanted him to stay wholly dependent a while longer, until I saw that the first thing he walked towards was me. I had urged against teaching him vocabulary, until I heard him call for me with his fragile, sincere voice. I had fought and fought and fought against his freedom—his separation from me—until this moment. When I was faced with how absolutely transcendent he had become.

Was I finally freed? Forgiven for all my grievances? Was it all worth it?

Bang.

----

Of course I had known. For all my life…you have been a part of it. Though we have both went our own ways and been changed during the journey, I would never have been able to forget you. My dear, older brother.

I let you watch whilst I feigned innocent ignorance to your presence. I needn’t sight to know you were there—gazing through mine window entranced. For a moment longer, I thought. For this small moment more, let us enjoy a tranquil reprieve. Let us forget the truths of our damaged worlds and become sheltered in a temporary lie. For his sake. My brother’s—the one who gave up everything and more for me.

I would smile, as my fingers traced the braille of the page I dedicated to memory knowing that this too was a lie. I was not able to read with my eyes anymore, unlike when I was a child still in his care. My lips curving upwards in a sweet fashion only because I knew he was enjoying this time. That surely, he felt at peace in watching another one of my many acts for him. I wanted nothing more than for him to be happy. For him to know that he was safe…and that he would always feel this soothing bliss whenever he returned home to me.

However, this time…I was resolved to put an end to this fabricated fairy-tale. And I hoped that when I did…he would still be mine.

A voice rang out from below. One of the attendants serving at this manse. A woman’s voice, calling out into the front gardens. Demanding that the man laying half-prostrate with his head turned up leave at once. Nothing unreasonable, given the late hour…however…I lowered my head and closed my eyes in knowing farewell. It was time. Time to end this charade. To say goodbye to who I once was, once and for all. And to wish all the best to the me yet to come.

The once certain voice that resonated from the room underneath mine cried out again. This time in horror and desperation. Her screams broken and airy—begging for anyone to help her…until her voice called out no more. A pity, yes…but there would be no one person put to blame for her unfortunate suffering. She had simply been at the wrong place at the most inopportune of times. Mourning her would come later. For now, I had to prepare.

So that when he pushed through my door, he would be made to understand.

His footsteps were already roaring through the long corridors of this stone manor—climbing the stairs in rapid pace as if even gravity couldn’t halt his ascent. Mindlessly, he would barge through each door along the way, having forgotten which room he spied on from below…but fortunately enough, they were kept unoccupied.

When at last he reached the wooden door which served as meager barricade between him and I…

I…

----

Failure. Failure. Failure. I failed him. I failed him. I’m a failure.

He was—he was; he was…

That fractured bliss which had been shot through my skull only mere moments prior had ricocheted in my brain and sent bits of metallic shells shooting through my synapses. Each one becoming a word—a phrase. A torrent of impossible guilt.

It’s not—it’s not. It can’t be. It’s not possible. It can’t be.

Hurt. Wounded. Sliced—wounded. His arm, his arm, his arm.

All that blind fury had instantly subsided; all my control surrendered.

His skin—white, white, pure white. Purple? Black? A purple-black—torn apart and nearly skinless.

An animal? Monster. Beast. Man. Claw marks. Who to blame? What hurt; hurt; had hurt my brother?

Me. I did. It was all me. I did this. I. Did. This. I did. I didn’t stop them. Couldn’t stop them. Hadn’t stopped them. My brother—my little brother—had the skin of his left arm from his wrist to his elbow peeled off and and and—his chest was marked by a horrible scar. I was a failure, I was, and I couldn’t deny it anymore. I failed, I failed, I failed—

----

I…

I slowly pulled my robe back over my arms and tied it around my waist. Covering myself in beautiful white silks once more before I stepped towards my ailing brother.

I…realized that I too needed this. I needed to witness my brother’s collapse to know that…I had done the right thing.

Wrapping my arms around his shaking self, I was soon brought to my knees as his weight crumbled down atop of me.

“There, there…”

I lovingly caressed him as he squeezed me so tightly he might as well have broken my spine. But surely he came to that same realization too, as his grip waned into more incessant trembling. My fingers stroked through his short, unkempt hair as I held him against myself. His warm hands soaked with the fresh blood of the woman lying dead in the foyer. Staining my white gown in his black-red.

“Big brother…I’m here. You’re home...”

Our horns pressed up against each other, nuzzling in a reminiscent manner. This scene, although set in the present…was no different than it had been in our past. My dear brother…returning home to me after a traumatic affair which struck his very core. Falling onto me in the absence of his mind. Crying pathetically as he clung to me in desperate need of my pure, untarnished love. Whilst the latter was no longer true…what mattered was that he still saw me as such. I was not broken, so long as I viewed myself through his eyes. I was still his god.

And while I yet drew breath, I would never let him go.

#ffxivwrite2021 #ffxiv rp #nobushige #nozaki #the scene in canon went quite differently however this conveys their unhealthy relationship better imo

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forever--darling · 4 years

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not too far away - s.m. (final)

a/n: where it finally comes to an end

epilogue

The soft music was flowing through the speakers and into the warm air of the summer night. With the sun having just set a few hours before, a gentle breeze formed, reliving the skin of all the guests, who had been in the sun all day. Stars littered the dark sky, illuminating down on the back yard that was filled with balloons, banners, and twinkling lights.

People stood surrounding the center of the yard, eyes locked on the couple who were standing with adoration filling their eyes. The sparkling ring on her left hand proof of how much love they held for each other. Only happiness could be felt, maybe too much from the buzz that was filling everyone’s veins from the champagne. It was a night to be celebrated, and nothing could stand before that. Not even the storm warning that was said to be the forecast of that day but it ended with not even a drop of rain. It was like fate, the couple belonged together and it was seen at the engagement party.

Now twenty-one-years old, the Canadian singer stood away from the chatter and the music. He was at the edge of the yard, by a gazebo that had been built the summer prior by the groom’s father. It was intertwined with roses and little golden lights as the view looked down at a clearing with a small lake. The trees now looking like tall shadows in the distance as the waves of the lake held the reflection from the sky above.

He was silent, eyes just scanning, and mind not able to conjure a single thought that a year had passed so quickly. Hands shoved into the pockets of his black jeans, a light coat of sweat gathered at the base of his neck causing his curls to stick. The white button up short sleeve he wore was left unbuttoned revealing the black tee underneath and bulged against his biceps. The St. Christopher pendant lie where it did most days, hanging around his neck, placed close to his heart. His lips were pursed and he seemed lost in another world as the sound of cheers and praise from the background faded into silence.

Shawn Mendes, couldn’t fathom how it all happened. How he got to where he was from over a year ago. He had been a wreck for weeks and months unable to sing a single lyric. So many thought he had disappeared or moved off the grid. Fans worried about their idol and the young man they loved so dearly. It took a while but he eventually got through it. He had too for his family, friends, fans, most importantly for himself. He had the rest of his life to live. It was nothing but a struggle, but he had gotten through it like everything else had.

That didn’t change that every time he closed his eyes, he could see or feel her. Constantly like a movie on repeat, he would see how their lives had played out. From the very first time, he had met Y/N, at the age of five. She was four and had stood behind her father’s leg for well over an hour before she spoke to Shawn for the first time. To them being fourteen, sneaking out into the woods down the hill of their houses just asking to get in trouble.

He could see them at sixteen. At the airport, arms wrapped tightly around her before having to depart and not getting to know that feeling for another four years. Finally, he could see all that happened a year ago. Him showing up at her doorstep after those years apart. Those few weeks where it went from taking her to a hockey game to their first kiss. From the night they made love for the first time and when he had gone to the hospital and broke down to his knees. It all was there and with each image, he saw of her smiling and her kissing him, it made his legs shake.

He was pulled away though, from the memories, the mini-movie by a pair of soft lips connecting with the side of his neck. His pulse quickened at the contact and as his eyes gazed down at the figure beside him, he felt his heart jump in his chest because there she was. Y/N Y/L/N was and always would be a sight for sore eyes. Her body wrapped in a white jump suit with spaghetti straps. No surprise she was barefoot, having kicked her heels not even two hours into the event.

Hair tucked behind her ears; it was just as short as it had been a year ago. She had started to like the length and now every few months would go and cut it when it started to grow again. It was curled, shiny, and soft. He knew that by how often his fingers would thread into it. Her necklace, from Shawn now a year ago, lying around her neck. Makeup slightly worn away from the day, her freshly tan skin from the summer glistened because of the humidity. Cheeks slightly flushed and eyelashes fluttering up at him, he was sure. She was the ‘one’.

Shawn couldn’t help the smile that widened across his lips as her arm wrapped around his waist. Handing him the solo cup in her hand, that had his freshly poured drink, she reached up on her tip toes and placed another peck on his neck. “You disappeared, my dad said you wandered over here.”

Like Shawn had said, he had gotten through the struggle that was this beautiful girl almost dying. She had pushed through the surgery and weeks, months later he had still struggled with the fear of it all happening again. He still was scared sometimes, that things would fall apart to their feet again. He was certain she was the love of his life and he couldn’t bear to be left alone without her.

Even then though, he knew he couldn’t constantly be living his life scared she would end up in the hospital again, especially when there was a good chance that would never happen. Shawn deserved that happiness that was craved by so many. The kind that you experience for sharing yourself with another person. At the end of a dark tunnel, she was stood like a light. With every push of her love, she put him back together.

“Yeah, just needed to get away for a few minutes,” Shawn mumbled out a reply, hand wandering to her lower back.

“You missed the grand speech made by my brother and then his very passionate kiss with the bride to be,” Y/N said, a small groan emitting from her mouth.

He chuckled at the small disgust heard in her voice, “They’re cute.”

She shook her head, fingers combing through the back of his fluffy curls, “Nope. James, Demi, and cute are not allowed in the same sentence.”

Another laugh emitted from the singer at the girl wrapped around his torso because it was the same sentence she had said a year ago, when her best friend and brother’s relationship had started kindling. Her words were said in disagreement but a small smile was laced across her lips as her eyes looked up at him with such innocence. “I think you’re going to have to get used to it because in just a few weeks your best friend is going to become Mrs. James Y/L/N.”

“Eh, it’s going to be a horrible wedding,” she shrugged, taking a sip from the champagne full glass in her hand.

“Wow, those are words you love to hear from the maid of honor,” he mumbled teasingly under his breath as he took a drink from his own cup to find that it was beer.

She laughed and as it moved through Shawn’s ears it caused his chest to flutter. Even after a whole year it still affected him that way. Untangling herself from around him, she chugged the rest of her champagne and taking both her empty glass and his solo cup, she placed it on the bench within the gazebo. She turned on her heels, hands tucked behind her back, her eyes trained back on the man she was desperately in love with.

“Fine, they are a little cute,” she admitted, moving closer and closer towards him, taking his hands in hers then leading him up and into the gazebo, “But you know what’s cuter?”

“What?” Shawn asked quizzically, hands finding a place on her hips as her arms connected around his neck.

Y/N pressed her body into his, able to feel his hard figure through the clothing that separated them. She planted a feathery kiss near his jaw, hearing him sigh at the feeling. Hands moving from around his neck, down along his chest, they spalyed across his pecks. His warmth surrounded her and she nibbled onto her lower lip as her eyes stayed locked on his.

“Us,” she whispered.

“Really? You think so?” Shawn teased, trying to distract himself from the warmth that pooled at the base of his stomach.

“Duh,” she laughed, “I mean, yeah, they are cute whatever. But come on they have nothing on us. We not only have been friends for over fifteen years but we have out beat an illness. Also, should I mention, that you are a traveling aspiring artist who is gone for months on end and we still manage to make time for each other? We’re cuter.”

His smile widened, causing his cheeks to ache a little at how adorable his girl was, “I guess, I can’t argue with you on this one.”

“Nope,” she replied, hand moving up to cup his cheek, thumb stroking his jaw lovingly.

Letting out a sigh, his hand squeezed softly at her side, “It’s been quite a year.”

She nodded in agreement but her smile never faltered, “Yeah it has.”

It had been over a year since she had almost died in that hospital. Since she had sent Shawn back to LA with nothing but a video to express her love to him, thinking she was about to die. Since Shawn had scurried back to Toronto and fell apart in the hospital lobby. It had taken almost ten minutes to revive her and get her heart beating again but they did and she had remained stable the rest of the surgery. Dr. Myers had gotten all of the cancer and within hours she had woken up and was responsive. Shawn was the first one to see her and fell to the side of the bed, cradling her cold hand against his face. They had cried and hr had crawled into the bed with her, kissing her and scolding her all at once. Just like that the crisis had disappeared and they started over. Here they were now, together and alive

“I’m so in love with you,” Shawn admitted, the words slipping without a coherent thought to stop him.

Her thumb stopped along his jaw, frozen along his skin. Her eyes were glossed over at this point, staring at him with so much love, Shawn thought he would burst from happiness. Her smile was sweet and he wished for anything to lean in and take it in. All of it. Everything about her.

“I’m so in love with you too.”

His cheeks suddenly became hot and he knew a blush was forming because it didn’t matter how many times he heard those words, it would still make him react this way. He bit onto his lip to hide the grin that was trying to form as his eyes looked away from hers towards the clearing again and the reflection of the stars on the lake.

Silence fell between them and within seconds, Y/N’s gaze had fallen to where his was. She tucked her body into his side and breathed in his cologne, head spinning from the moment. The slow music was louder now, filling both of their ears and in an instant, Shawn felt overwhelmed in the best way possible. His mind began to fill with so many thoughts and he couldn’t find the switch to turn them off. Without him even realizing it, his voice broke the air causing the girl to tense up in his arms.

“Marry me.”

Y/N’s head tilted up to look towards Shawn, revealing her wide eyes and slightly parted lips. Clearly, she wasn’t expecting it just as much as he wasn’t but he didn’t care because it felt right in every way possible. Her arms loosened from around him and she began to sway from side to side and without Shawn’s body supporting her she probably would have fallen.

“W-What?” she stuttered, barely able to get the word out as her hand clamped tightly around Shawn’s bicep.

He knew by the way her large innocent eyes were searching his that she was looking for some sort of sign that this was all a joke. She was trying to pick that out because they were at an engagement party and he had to have been trying to be funny. Though as her face paled, he knew she found no sign on his face that it was a joke. He was in fact being completely serious.

“Marry me,” he repeated.

“Shawn,” she gasped, a breath falling from her lips.

“I know what you’re going to say,” he paused, smiling as a chuckle slipped out of his mouth. His hand fell from around her waist and he took both of her hands in his. He was able to feel the way they trembled in his as he continued, “That it’s too soon and that we have the rest of our lives but here’s the thing, we’ve known each other for over fifteen years and I’m completely sure. Last year I almost lost you, and I know now that whether the rest of our lives is tomorrow or the next sixty years I want to spend it with you. I love you and there’s no one else I want to spend forever with.”

As he finished talking and the last few words fell out into the air, he could see the tears that slipping from her eyes. They slid down on flushed cheeks and into the small smile that was lifting at the corners of her mouth. She was shaking still but not as bad as she had been moments before. She wasn’t able to form words and it caused Shawn’s stomach to stir anxiously waiting for an answer. Then finally, in a single second, it all fell into place sending his heart out of his chest. She nodded hand cupping around her mouth.

He grinned, “Yes?”

“Yes. I’ll marry you,” she barely choked the words out as more tears fell from her glazed over eyes.

Just like that, Shawn’s arms winded around her and pulled her swiftly into his body. His lips sloppily collided with hers and maybe it was the slight buzz from the alcohol or all the love that filled the air but they were sure it was the best kiss they had ever had. As they clung tightly to each other, it didn’t even dawn on Shawn that he didn’t have a ring to slide onto her finger, but that it was hidden in the top drawer of his dresser, under his boxers.

Other than that, they also hadn’t noticed the many lingering stares that had wandered over towards them. They weren’t aware of the curiosity that had formed with every single guest as they looked at another couple who were kissing with smiles on their lips and tears in their eyes. It minutes before they noticed there were two voices yelling at them from across the yard. Y/N’s lips slowly detached from Shawn’s but still lingered as neither of them intended to turn around because they both knew exactly who it was.

“Hey, guys, maybe you should get a room,” James grinned from ear to ear, arm wrapped around Demi’s waist as he looked towards his little sister and friend who seemed caught up in their own little world of happiness.

“And remember to use protection,” Demi yelled after, leaning in her finance’s embrace, laughter falling from them both.

They only laughed harder as the couple had refused to turn and look towards them, but were given the middle finger by none other than Y/N Y/L/N just as she had crashed her lips back against Shawn’s. For some reason, James and Demi knew what had happened at that moment. Y/N and Shawn weren’t sure how but they did and it only heightened the happiness that filled the air.

And as they kissed passionately, clutching onto each other tightly, they knew things were going to always be looking up from there. Things were going to be different from now on. There was going to be no more secrets, no more heart ache, and no more time spent apart. Finally, their wrong timing seemed to click into place and nothing, not even the stars, could change that.

#shawn mendes #shawn mendes imagine #shawn mendes imag #shawn mendes fanfiction #shawn mendes fanfic #my writing #shawn peter raul mendes #shawn mendes angst

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ohokimdumb · 4 years

Text

Carlos Oliveira Imagine (Deep Sadness) 😥💔

WARNING: This imagine mentions: depression, If you are not comfortable reading these topics, please read at your own risk.

Request: Hi, I really love the way you write, it's enjoyable... Keep up the good work and I hope you first take care of yourself before you take requests. Here is my request : How would Carlos react to a S.O that is hiding her sadness but around other people even Carlos, she acts fun, enjoying life, makes other laugh and always helps other feel better? And maybe a short scenario where Carlos realizes that even he at some point was comforted by his S.O but feels guilty about how she actually feels inside.

Word count: 1.2k

Everyday it got more difficult getting out of bed. Even when Carlos woke you up with a fresh cup of coffee, eggs, toast, and a loving kiss…you still felt empty. Honestly, you weren’t sure why you were so unhappy. You had everything you wanted. The perfect boyfriend cuddled with you every night. Supportive friends overloaded you with messages every day, and yet…it wasn’t enough.

You sat in bed in a deep silence and examined your surroundings. Everything felt gray, even though the master bedroom was filled with color. The skin under your eyes itched from dried mascara you didn’t have the motivation to wash off last night. Carlos’ black Champion hoodie was like wearing a tarp. It was way too big for you, but that was why you loved wearing it. It also smelled like him. His hoodie didn’t cure your sadness while he was at work, but it tamed your dark temptations. Sun began to slowly shine through the thin curtains. You counted down the seconds for Carlos to walk in the bedroom with your breakfast on a tray. For some reason you felt guilty he brought you breakfast every morning. You knew it was out of personal desire, but it didn’t seem worth his time.

The bedroom door creaked open and Carlos quietly walked in with a bright smile on his face. You smiled back; it didn’t feel genuine. A fake smile was better than a bland straight face that would bring him concern.

“Good morning, baby.” Carlos greeted you. The smell of freshly brewed coffee filled your nostrils. He set the tray next to you, but you weren’t interested in eating. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to, you didn’t feel hungry. Your body certainly needed the nutrition, but it never told you when you were hungry. It felt like your body was shutting down and didn’t know how to properly use basic functions.

“Morning.” You respond in a bland tone that caused Carlos to casually frown. He sat at the edge of the bed and gently rubbed your ankle. You could tell he was starting to catch on. It only took him a week to even slightly notice your struggles. It wasn’t his fault. Hiding how you felt was a professional skill you held close to your heart.

“How have you been feeling lately?” He asked cautiously. Carlos wasn’t too sure if he was invading your privacy, even though he had a right to ask about your mental health. He cared so much and the last thing he wanted was you to feel pain, no matter what shape or form. You remained silent. Ignoring him while he was directly in front of you was just cruel, so you sat up and looked in his eyes. You felt too tired to speak; as if you forgot how to use words. Instead, you shrugged. It felt like you were going to fall apart then and there, in front of him. You felt pathetic and weak. You didn’t ask to feel that way, you didn’t beg to fall in a deep depression for no specific reason.

“You’ve been distant, we’re all worried. Your friends have been constantly calling me to see if you’re okay. Isolating yourself isn’t healthy, y/n.” Carlos brought his hand back from your ankle and looked down.

“I know I haven’t been the best. I’ve been busy with work and I haven’t had much time to spend with you. I want to help you, but I don’t know how.” Carlos twiddled his thumbs as he glanced over at you. His breath hitched as it grew uneven; he was forcefully holding back tears. He felt horrible. He had been so oblivious to your emotional state. He had then realized how sad you were, and still struggled to understand why. Carlos understood loneliness; the fear of the deep pit of hopelessness to never have someone. Pure unmixed depression was something he never felt. You rarely saw Carlos cry. He had always been your rock, and you his. Now that you weren’t strong for him or yourself, he was falling apart.

“I’m so sorry for being a terrible boyfriend. It wasn’t my intention.” Carlos stuttered as he apologized to you. He tried to pull himself together; if he wasn’t strong, then there was no hope of you getting better. But it hurt him knowing you were in so much pain.

“It’s not your fault.” You took a hold of his hand and squeezed tightly. Carlos looked up at you, a tear ran down his cheek. The South-American looked so vulnerable in front of you; something so unfamiliar, but relieving. Carlos could never know how much you loved him; he was everything you ever wanted. You cupped his face in your hands and pressed your forehead against his.

“I don’t know why I’m so sad.” You admitted. You didn’t want Carlos to think bad of himself for even a second. Tears began to well-up in your eyes as your heart pounded in your chest.

“I’m so lost…” You viciously cried in the crook of Carlos’ warm neck. His expensive cologne filled your nose when you breathed in deeply. Carlos wrapped his strong arms around your body and pulled you into his lap; you were light as a feather to him. You curled up in his lap as Carlos held you tight.

“Shh…” Carlos lovingly ran his hand through your hair. He never failed to comfort you. No matter what he did, whether it was holding you, playing with your hair, or sitting in silence…the sadness faded away for a short time. You seemed to quickly calm down in Carlos’ embrace. The two of you had a deeper connection than most. Carlos found you at his lowest point in life; a servant for Umbrella.

“What do you say we go to the park for a walk. I promise I won’t make you do cardio with me today.” A smile curled on his lips as his tears dried; his emotional strength had returned.

“Can we pig out after?” You asked as you fluttered your eyelashes, hoping to win him over with a cuteness overload. You chuckled and poked your nose with his.

“Anything to make you happy.” You sat up a little bit; you hung onto his neck with one arm. He leaned in, knowing exactly what you wanted. Your heart fluttered in the best way possible as Carlos’ soft lips connected with yours. Carlos immediately deepened the kiss as he slipped his tongue between your lips. A giggle escaped your lips as Carlos grew playful with you.

Even though your sadness seemed to evaporate in thin air, you knew it wouldn’t last forever. But that was why you had Carlos in your life, not only to love and cherish, but to have him support you through thick and thin. It would take some time to get back on your feet emotionally, but Carlos had proven he was patient and more than willing to hold your hand through your struggles.

Carlos kissed each of your hands and helped you out of bed. He looked you up and down, examining every part of your body.

“I think you look more than perfect.” Carlos planted one last gentle kiss on your cheek; your cheeks flushed a bright pink. There was nothing more perfect than Carlos showering you with affection. He admired how his massive hoodie hung from your shoulders; he fell in love over and over again every time you wore a piece of his wardrobe.

#carlos oliveira #carlos oliveira imagine #carlos oliveira x reader

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