#remembers that anon i got a few days ago asking if i would ever write things with less angst
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hai omg can you do alastor reacting to the person he's courting giving him flowers instead of the other way around
Alastor reacting to you giving him flowers.
warnings: gn!reader. romantic scenario. might be ooc. sorry about that.
A/N: I ABSOLUTELY LOVE THIS IDEA. At first, I wanted to write something like him just getting flattered by it? but I think he would be more upset and disappointed that he wasn't the one who was giving you flowers. after all, "he's a gentleman and should spoil his beloved with that kind of gifts every time he got the chance to." (that's what he thinks, at least). Hope you can enjoy it anon! ;; thanks for your request. ♡
English is not my first language, so I apologize for any mistakes. feel free to correct me as long as you're polite about it.
⠀⠀⠀⠀ 𝅭ㅤ𝅭ㅤ⎯⎯ㅤㅤִㅤㅤ୨ ♡ ୧ㅤㅤִ ⎯⎯ ㅤ𝅭ㅤ𝅭
February 14th. a date everyone knew the meaning of. a date where everyone did their best to show off to their loved ones, to spoil them or even fall into the deepest of the lustful desires.
however, for the radio demon it was a pretty irrelevant date. he didn't really saw the meaning of it, and therefore, he didn't get as excited as other people did, and it wasn't exactly because he didn't got gifts or attention during it, in fact he did get lots of gift, specially from people of the cannibal town (who seemed to like him quite a lot). however, all those gift were meaningless to him, and he even hate most of them, since they're usually some kind of sweets, and he isn't really a fan of them, so they ended up in the trash or someone else's hands. he just didn't cared about it, nor the people who gave it to him.
nevertheless, this time it was a little different. he had someone in mind he wanted to give a gift to, and since a few weeks ago that thought has been running around his mind. but being quite unused to being on the giving end on this dates, he was conflicted on what to get to his special someone. flowers? he already got them flowers before, a lot of times and a lot of different types and colors. chocolates? he couldn't even stand the sweet smell of them. other kind of desserts had the same effect. and just like that, he keep discarding ideas that wasn't good enough for him. he wanted to blow you mind, he couldn't just do the simplest things!
soon enough, he asked for advice to the best person: Rosie, who, after giving some other ideas that were also discarded, ended up suggesting that he invited you to have dinner together, but instead of going out to a fancy restaurant, both of you just stayed at the hotel and HE cooked the most mind blowing meal himself. that way not only was he able to show off his cooking skills, but he also was able to make sure that everything was perfect. to the decoration, to the lighting, to the ambience music, to the flavors. he was simply in control of everything. he agreed to this, he thought it was a perfect idea!
so the next day, he went to ask Charlie for help at having a space for you and him alone. she agreed excitedly, of course, and promised him that absolutely no one was going to interrupt their perfect date. so, with her help, he got the kitchen, dining room, and a balcony all for himself.
when the day itself arrived, he immediately started decorating the dining room and balcony, with just a little magic it was a quick process. the table had a pretty dark red tablecloth, in the middle of it were some light up candles. it was just what you expect to see at a table on a romantic dinner really, kind of the cliché stuff. the balcony, however, had some lights wrapped around the railing, you could find some flower petals from the table leading the way to the entrance of the balcony. he wanted it to be the most unforgivable night of your life! that way, even if you ever (tried to because hes not letting thay happen) leave him, you would remember him whenever this date came around.
he also cooked some fancy dishes, some simpler meals that he knew you liked, and Rosie got him some sweets (against his will) that she knew you would love. everything was made for you to love.
soon enough, the time for the date came around, and you showed up. as you were standing before him, he tilted his head, confused as to why you kept you arms behind your back.
— Darling, are you perhaps hiding something from me?
he asked as you giggled. then, you pulled a bouquet of flowers from behind you back and extended it to him, holding it with both hands as you said "happy valentine's day!" excitedly. he looked at you in shock. you got him flowers. and he didn't. you prepared such a beautiful bouquet for him, and he didn't? he felt disappointed in himself for not getting you something as basic as a bouquet of flowers. how could he not get something like that for you? how could he even think of not getting such a beautiful gift to you? he could have made it the best and biggest bouquet ever and he didn't! how could he-
— Hey, Al? Are you ok?
he came back to his senses when you spoke to him. he looked at your worried expression and just chuckled.
— You just took me by surprise, my dear! I wasn't expecting to get such a beautiful and heartfelt gift from you. I am truly flattered by such a cute gesture!
— You're sure? You seem a little... down.
— Well, I am a bit disappointed in myself. After all, such a beautiful person gave me such beautiful flowers, but I didn't get them flowers! How could a gentlemen forget to bring flowers to his date? For shame.
he replied in a joking tone, making you laugh. your laugh was absolutely worth everything to him, he adored it and he loved seeing you so happy.
— Don't worry silly! you already planned all this, didn't you? that's more than enough for me.
after you were done talking he extended his hand to you, taking the bouquet in his other hand as he lead your way to the table. he wanted that night to be something that you wouldn't forget, but he didn't planned for it to be a night that he also wouldn't forget because of a little surprise. not that he was complaining though.
#🩻✦🍎˖ ،،̲ request...#hazbin hotel imagine#hazbin hotel x y/n#hazbin hotel x you#hazbin hotel x oc#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin hotel fanfiction#alastor x reader#alastor x you#alastor x oc#alastor x y/n
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Hello!! Can i request a 14 + 19 + n for Miguel? remember to take care of yourself as always :)) , luv from anon! 🎀
"You're the best thing that has ever happened to me” + “I’ve got you” + Pregnancy x Miguel O’Hara
Words: 4.1k words
Warnings: Beach day! Fluff, pregnancy, mentions of body image issues, mention of suggestive themes, some light angst (if you squint, really), soft Miguel, he's an incredible husband <3 If I missed anything, let me know, I'm terrible at tagging! Not proofread - oops!
A/N: Hey everyone!!! I'm back!!! Wow, I could post two works this week? Insane!!! Well, it was a real blast writing this. I mean it, I got it ready in like, a day or two. That's just how much fun I had with this little drabble! It was just so cute, and I'm a sucker for soft Miguel. I missed writing for him!!!
Once again, I ask your patience. I promise I haven't given up on writing, I'm just really, really busy hahaha.
Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy this! I certainly did <3
“These are so good…” you mumbled, biting into the treat in your hand.
Miguel, standing next to you, winced and his face contorted in a slight expression of disgust. “Cream cheese with anchovies?” he asked, “Yes, mi vida. I’m sure it’s delicious.”
You kept on biting at your sandwich, a content smile on your lips.
“How’d you know this is exactly what I’d want right now?” you asked, mouth stuffed. Miguel winced again. You knew it bothered him when people spoke with their mouth full, and yet he said nothing, simply happy to watch his loving wife indulge in her (honestly appalling) sandwich.
“Call it a lucky guess. All of your cravings so far have been disgusting, I thought I might as well mix whatever we had left on the fridge, and you’d enjoy it.”
You stared at him, dumbfounded. Seriously? Were you and your cravings that predictable that he could just mix whatever two ingredients there were in your fridge? But as soon as you gave it some more thought, the notion made you laugh. Perhaps it didn’t mean you were predictable, only that your husband knew you that well.
You ran a hand on top of your pregnant belly, giving it a few pats before returning to your sandwich.
“Thank you. Our baby seems to be enjoying it as well,” you tell him with a soft smile.
Miguel returns it and bends down to press a soft kiss on top of your stomach. “Well, that makes me happy.”
You two sat there. You, enjoying your ridiculous sandwich, Miguel enjoying your company. He’d been meaning to take you on a small beach day for a while now, but his work kept getting in a way. After a few tweaks in his schedule (courtesy of Lyla), and a few missions handled by other people (Jessica and Peter B. had been kind enough to catch those anomalies by themselves), he’d managed to snag you away on a sunny Saturday morning.
You had everything you could possibly need. Lots (and lots) of food, an insane amount of sunscreen (that Miguel insisted on applying on your skin every 20 minutes), a few books to keep you entertained (even though you’re only spending the day, and not a whole week), lots of refreshments, and four beach umbrellas for you to sit under (that occupied far too much space, something you’d stressed a lot at home. But it’s not like Miguel listened).
“Everything alright, mi vida?” He asked you.
You nodded and wiggled your feet, relishing on the feeling of the soft sand against them. “As alright as it was five minutes ago, Miggy. I promise I’m fine. There’s no need to worry about me.”
He only sighed in response and shook his head.
“Are you sure you’re alright? Can I get you anything? Would you like something from the beach bar? Fresh juice? Any other beverage? An ice cream?” Miguel looked positively adorable when he worried. Ever since you told him you were pregnant, he started treating you as if you were made of glass, and as soon as you started showing, he went actually crazy.
His wife can’t lift a box – can’t bend down and possibly hurt the baby. He’ll do all of the heavy lifting. In fact, he’ll do all of the lifting.
She can’t do the dishes – spending far too long on her feet can tire her out, and he couldn’t have that. He’ll wash everything and get a dishwasher for the days he worked late.
She can’t possibly cook dinner – what if something goes wrong and she gets upset? Stress is not good for the baby. No, let Miguel do all the cooking.
She can’t clean either – let him handle it.
The point was, Miguel was an extremely protective man. He loved you more than anything. And now you were carrying the world’s most precious cargo: his son.
So why wouldn’t he treat you with the utmost care?
“Miguel, I told you, I’m fine.” You sighed, finishing your sandwich. Before you could say something, Miguel had handed you two napkins and a bottle of fresh orange juice. You took the napkins, cleaned your mouth, and he quickly grabbed a bottle of water, presenting both to you.
“Water? Juice? Which do you prefer, my love?” he asked.
You just shook your head. It was pointless to say anything. Better to simply enjoy it.
“Juice is fine.” You took the bottle and brought it to your lips, which earned a slight groan from him. Safe to say, your pregnancy had just made Miguel even more enamoured with you and your body. The accentuated curves, the softness and plushness of your skin, all for Miguel to grasp and tug and pull. Your tender breasts that had grown, and he’d already spent hours twisting and helping relieve some of your pain and soreness, your calves that often needed to be massaged – your body had always been a treasure to Miguel, but now that his child was growing inside of it, he was going to do everything in his power to love it more and more.
You looked at him; this look of his was easy to recognise. Crimson eyes low and darkened with desire, tracing every swirl of your tongue over your lips. You blushed furiously. It was flattering to know Miguel wanted you, and even more so to know both his love and lust had only increased with your pregnancy.
“Like what you see, Mister?” you asked, tilting your head, and playing coy.
Miguel loved it when you did that. It did things to him whenever you played hard to get, whenever you pretended not to know the effect you had on him.
“Very much. Te ves bien bonita,” he hummed, dipping his head low to place a kiss on your jaw. You sighed, and he took it as a sign to kiss you further, trailing down your neck.
You were just about to run your fingers through his hair when you remembered where the hell you were.
“M-Miguel!” you breathed out, slowly pulling him away from your body. “Please – we’re in public.”
“No me importa. Que vean.”
“No – Miguel, no.” You giggled and pushed him off you, earning an annoyed huff from him.
“We’re at the beach. We’re not going to give these people a show.”
“Oh, but who told you I don’t want to?” Miguel asked, raising a brow, “I’d like to show all of those idiots staring who the hell you belong to.” His voice was low and raspy, and you felt heat pool in your lower stomach. You shook your head, trying to get these nasty thoughts out of your head. This was supposed to be a nice, innocent beach date! Not fantasizing about your incredibly handsome husband.
“Well,” you spoke, “Too bad. You’re not doing anything.”
Miguel grumbled and got up, shaking his head.
“Always the same. Always ‘We’re in public Miggy!” or, ‘Don’t do that, people are watching Miguel”, or even ‘You can’t fuck me in front all of these people Miguel’!”
Your cheeks heat up and you blushed furiously, embarrassment spreading through your whole body. Your husband wasn’t talking in a particularly low tone, and people had started to look at him. More specifically, women, smirking towards him and licking their lips viciously. Your stomach was about to curl when Miguel spoke his next words, making you forget all about other people.
“One of these days I’ll take you in front of all of them, I’m telling you. Show them you’re mine.”
“Miguel!”
“What?” He turned to look at you, and you could see that stupid smirk of his plastered all over his face. It was no secret that Miguel loved to see you flustered like this.
“Don’t say that out loud, oh my god!”
“Why? It’s not like I’m lying here.” Before you could protest further, Miguel offered you a cheeky smile and nodded his head towards the water. “I’m gonna go for a dive. Do you want to come?”
You shook your head. “No, that’s fine.” It was enough for Miguel to tense up, but you were quick to reply. “It’s fine – I’ll be fine, Miguel, don’t worry. I’ll just stay here under the shade.” You tried offering him a reassuring smile. After all, you weren’t a child, and could take care of yourself just fine.
Miguel eyed you for a while, before sighing.
“Fine,” he said, “But if you need anything – “
“I’ll let you know. Don’t worry.”
“And I won’t be long. I promise. I just need to freshen up.”
“Miguel,” you said his name softly, “It’s fine. I promise I’ll be fine.”
He nodded and ran towards the water. You watched him as he looked around and the water tickled his feet.
You then looked around, taking the scenery in. It was a lovely sunny day. There were no clouds in the sky, and nothing but a small breeze could be felt brushing your hair. It was the perfect beach day, and you were so glad Miguel had taken today off to be with you. You missed him when he was gone, and although you knew what he did was extremely important (after all, your husband was Spider-Man), it was only natural to long for him when he was away. Especially with these pesky pregnancy hormones.
You returned your gaze to him, and that’s when you saw her.
A woman, eyeing Miguel up and down, shamelessly.
You raised an eyebrow. For the looks of it, it seemed as if she had been looking at him for a while. It was clear she was looking him up and down, and you felt a nasty feeling forming on your stomach, something green and envious and nasty.
The woman approached him, and your eyes lingered on her, on her perfect silhouette. Her legs were long and lean, her stomach toned, and her bikini sure did wonders showing off her boobs. Along with the jealousy you felt clawing at your skin, came another feeling, that instead of making you angry, just made you sad.
Miguel had seemed to notice her, because he turned to face her and the two started to talk. She was all smiles and giggles, tilting her head slightly and – was she actually swaying her hips? You huffed. Miguel was no stranger to flirtation. Women shot their shots with him all the time. Well, tried to. He was always quick to shut them down, mentioning his lovely wife, who happened to now be carrying his baby.
You knew him to be faithful. You knew he loved you and only you. You knew he would never hurt you or cheat on you or cause you any distress.
So why was it that you felt so unworthy of him when you two were out?
You looked at the woman again.
She was gorgeous, with perfect skin, flawless hair, and a great fucking body.
And here you were, sitting down on a chair you could barely get out of, eating a sandwich you were sure was positively disgusting to everyone else, feeling big and fat and ugly and simply not enough for him. The thought nearly brought you two tears. Miguel always assured you of how much he loved you, of how much he adored you and found you the most beautiful woman in the world.
And yet you couldn’t help but wipe away one or two tears that spilled across your cheeks, dark thoughts clouding your mind. You were surrounded by beautiful women, all of them reminding you of how much less you felt, with their perfect bodies and normal stomachs that did not weigh a ton because of the baby growing inside of them, with long legs that elegantly strutted instead of awkwardly waddling from one room to the other. Would Miguel be better off with any of these women? Would they look better on his arm, on his bed, on his life?
It was simply too much. You grabbed your nearby dress and placed it on top of your belly, hiding it. Then, you moved to grab your book, trying to focus on your reading. It was nearly impossible, and when Miguel returned after a while, you did your best not to look at him.
“Hey,” he said. “Everything okay?”
You refused to meet his eye.
“Mhm. Just peachy.”
“Are you cold?”
“No, I’m fine.”
“Then why are you covering yourself?”
“Just protecting the baby from the heat,” you mumbled. What a terrible excuse.
Miguel hummed before you. He bent down and grabbed his towel, shaking the sand from it (away from you, of course), before setting it down on the spot next to yours, and laying on it. Now that he was up close, you could see every freckle on his body, every muscle, every droplet that fell down his arms, his legs, his back. He was as charming as ever.
And you had never felt more inadequate. Unconsciously, you brought your dress closer, hiding your chest too.
"¿Seguro que estás bien, mi vida?" Miguel asked again, looking up at you. Why the hell were you covering your body? Were you cold? It was rather warm outside, that couldn’t be it. Did you feel sick?
“Yeah, I’m fine.”
Miguel followed your eyes. They landed on the woman that had tried to strike up a conversation with him earlier.
And then everything fell into place.
The way you were hiding your body from him, the way you looked somewhere else so that you wouldn’t have to meet his gaze, how sheepishly you were acting.
And it genuinely upset Miguel. Because how could you ever think that you weren’t the most gorgeous woman out there? That your body wasn’t worthy of worship and adoration and idolisation? His fingers slowly crept up next to you, and he softly pulled the dress away from your body, exposing your belly, your thighs, your legs, your beautiful skin and being.
“Miguel, gimme that back,” you mumbled, trying to take the dress back from him. He pulled back his arm and the dress was immediately out of your reach. You huffed, hugging your hands around your body, as if you could hide it from him. You couldn’t. And Miguel was heartbroken that you thought you had to.
“Tell me what’s wrong, mami.” He said, hand caressing your thigh. He’d have to coax the insecurity out of you.
“Nothing’s wrong, I’m just cold – “
“It’s so hot, we could almost fry an egg on that cute belly of yours.” Miguel said. He wasn’t afraid to talk about your body, especially not after you’d gotten pregnant. You’d felt insecure once or twice, but he had always reassured you of how beautiful you were, and how radiant you looked, even with that big pregnant belly of yours. And for the past few months, you’d been doing amazing, feeling confident about your body, and loving your new figure and everything it meant for your future alongside Miguel. But perhaps the beach had taken some of that confidence away.
You sighed and looked away. Unfortunately for you, Miguel reached out with his hand and turned your face towards his. Nowhere to hide.
“Vale. Suelta la sopa,” he spoke.
There was nowhere to hide, nowhere to look to aside from those gorgeous chocolate-crimson eyes of his. You trusted Miguel, you really did. So why were you having such a hard time saying this? Perhaps you didn’t want him to feel like he didn’t love you enough. You knew he loved you. You knew he found you attractive. What if you thought you were being dramatic? What if he thought you were too high maintenance, still feeling insecure even though all he did was reassure you of his love? It’s not like you can help your feelings.
“I don’t want to bother you Miggy,” you replied, voice soft. “It’s fine.”
“You’ll never bother me. You know that, right? Now, come on. Tell me what’s wrong.”
You bit your bottom lip, and then nodded.
“It’s just… I just feel so…” You scrambled for words.
“Take your time,” Miguel said to reassure you.
“I feel so unworthy.”
“Unworthy? How so, mi alma?”
“I’m not – my body is not – I’ve changed, Miguel. My body has changed so much. I don’t look like them – “ you nudged your head towards the water, where the gorgeous woman had been moments ago. “And I never will. And look at you – you’re so handsome. You’ve always been. And next to you, I feel… I feel inadequate. I don’t feel beautiful enough for you… And I know what you’re gonna say. That I am, and that you love me, and that you love this child. And so do I. More than anything. But sometimes, I just feel… I feel like you’d look better with someone like that on your arm.”
Miguel listened attentively to each word you said. Just as he figured out, you were feeling down because of your appearance.
“Honey,” he started, letting go of your chin. “You are right. I will say that you look beautiful, and that you’ll always look beautiful to me.”
You opened your mouth to protest, but he was quicker.
“Uh-uh – let me finish. As I was saying, you are beautiful. And I love you. Sure, your body has changed, but it has changed because you’re carrying our baby. You’re carrying a child. Mi vida, do you know how miraculous that is?” His voice was laced with nothing but adoration, and so were his eyes. “You’re carrying a life inside of you. You’re going to bring a life into this world. That is such a beautiful thing. Your body has simply stretched to accommodate our little one. And that is such a lovely thing. It’s a miracle, mi vida. You’re a miracle.”
Your eyes quickly filled with tears, and Miguel cupped your face with both of his hands.
“I couldn’t care less about other women. Whatever they have, whatever they might offer, it will never compare to what you offer me every day. To the love you so selflessly give me every single day, to the greatest gift you’re about to give me. A child. You’re going to bring my child into the world. You say you feel inadequate next to me – Mierda, I feel inadequate next to you. You have chosen me to be the father of your child, and you’re doing all of this to carry it and bring it to the world safely. And all I can do is watch. I can’t take away your pain, I can’t take away your discomfort. I’m the lucky one. I mean – hell, you could’ve had any guy in the world, but you chose me. You chose this awkward, nerdy, standoffish man who couldn’t even tell you he loved you the first time he kissed you because he was so bad dealing with his own feelings.”
You giggled as you recalled the memory, and your heart warmed. Miguel laughed along with you. He’d come very far with you. He was a man of logic, of reason, never letting emotions cloud his judgement. Which made everything infinitely harder when he met you – you, who broke down his walls and made it impossible to think and be reasonable. He’d come so far, and it was all thanks to you.
“You’re the best thing that has ever happened to me,” Miguel continued. “This child is the greatest thing that could ever happen to us. I know that I can’t take away your insecurities just like this. And it kills me that you can’t see yourself the way I do. But please, please believe me when I tell you that you are the most gorgeous woman I have ever seen in my life. The kindest, smartest. The most miraculous of them all, carrying a child all by yourself.”
Tears ran down your cheeks, and you sobbed softly. Miguel scooted closer to you, and with his help, you got up from your chair and sat down on his lap. His arms were instantly all over you, one of them bringing you close, the other trailing patterns on top of your stomach.
“I just… I feel so ugly sometimes… And then we came to the beach, and it was supposed to be a lovely day just between the two of us, but then I saw that woman, and she looked gorgeous, and I’ll never be her…” You said in between sobs.
Miguel caressed your head and dropped a kiss on your forehead.
“You forgot the most important part.”
You looked up, confusion in your features.
“She will never be you.”
Your eyes widened softly, and you parted your lips.
“She will never be the woman I love. She will never be the woman who puts up with me every day, even when I’m cranky and grouchy. She will never be the woman who wakes me up with kisses in the morning because she wants me to start my day in the best way possible. She’ll never be the woman who packs my lunch and writes sweet notes. She will never be the woman who loves me unconditionally despite my many, many flaws. She will never be you. Never.”
You smiled through your tears and the invisible rope that tugged at Miguel’s heart loosened its hold. You were smiling. Thank God.
“She’ll never be me?” You repeated.
“No one will ever be you.” He replied, closing the gap between your faces, and taking your lips in his. You kissed him softly, cupping his jaw with your hand and trailing your fingers through his head with the other. When you pulled away for air, there were tears in your eyes once again.
“I’m sorry for being like this… Sometimes, the hormones, they just…”
Miguel quickly cut you off.
“You don’t need to apologize. I will never get tired of saying how much I love you, of telling you how much you mean to me. It’s okay to not be fine. Isn’t that what you tell me?”
You nodded with a small smile.
“Then I’m telling it to you too. It’s okay to feel like this. And I know I can’t understand the depth of your feelings. I can’t know for sure what you’re going through. But I’ll always be by your side. I’ll always be right here to help you. I love you, honey. I really do. I’m the luckiest man alive.”
If someone were to tell you a few years ago that Miguel would be capable of saying these sorts of things, you’d have scoffed and told them to fuck off. When you met him, Miguel didn’t do feelings. He never opened up, never spoke about himself or his emotions. But then you came along and taught him how to feel, how to love. You taught him it was okay to be vulnerable, to be taken care of, to be loved. You loved him all the more for it, your scary, mean, giant of a man who turned into putty whenever his eyes landed on you.
“I love you. Thank you so much for this. I mean it.” You said, nuzzling your face into the crook of his neck. He smelled like the beach, like the soft breeze and the warm sun. You placed a kiss there and smiled as soon as the salt of the water hit your tongue.
“I’ve told you, mi vida. I’ve got you.” He said, still tracing patterns on your skin. “I’ll always be here for you. I love you.”
You two remained like this, in each other’s arms for a while.
You didn’t feel the need to get up or go for a swim. Not yet.
For now, all you wanted was to stay in your husband’s arms, feel his heartbeat against yours, sink further into his touch. You looked up and took in the scenery around you. The shining sun, the clear blue sky, the sparkly water. You watched as young couples smiled at each other, groups of friends played around, and families ran after their children. Someday, it’d be you and Miguel, along with your little one.
You realised you didn’t feel insecure anymore. Miguel was right. It was a miraculous thing, to be carrying such a precious thing inside of you. Your child. Miguel’s child. The product of the love and devotion you held for each other. You couldn’t be ashamed of that, could you?
You knew this would be an uphill battle. Your insecurities couldn��t be erased simply overnight. But with Miguel’s arms wrapped tightly around you, you realised that as long as you had him to remind you of all the beautiful things you and this body meant, and how much you two loved each other, it would be okay.
You would be okay.
A/N: And that's it! I hope you guys have enjoyed this little drabble.
Have a wonderful day ahead, everyone!!! <3
#miguel o'hara x reader#miguel o'hara x y/n#miguel o'hara scenarios#miguel o'hara x you#miguel o'hara#miguel o'hara fanfiction#spiderman 2099#spiderman 2099 x reader#miguel o'hara x f!reader#miguel o'hara x fem!reader#astv x reader#atsv x you#across the spiderver fanfiction#across the spiderverse#miguel spiderman#spiderverse x reader#spiderverse fanfiction#spiderverse x you
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Opposite
Mattheo Riddle x Reader
Reader: she/her pronouns, no house mentioned but are friends with the Slytherin Squad and Hufflepuff Faction <3
youtube
Warnings: swearing, mentions of underage drinking, implied sex-no smut. It’s literally a sentence- (Please let me know if I missed any)
Category: Angst, One-Shot, Songfic, ex-boyfriend, on and off relationship, jealousy, no use of y/n
Summary: In which Mattheo has a new girlfriend and she looks nothing like you.
So y'all are in Hogsmeade now? Guess it's public. You recall what Annlynn looks like and note that she has a face like that other girl you're in love with. The one in that movie you both watched again and again since it was his favourite. You scoff. ‘You knew I would see that. You knew I would notice.’ You think to yourself.
Request: anon requested
Author’s Note: I hope this is to your liking <3
Word Count: <2k
To The Library (Main Masterlist)
To The Kitchen (WIPs)
To emails i can't send fwd: Anthology
To more Mattheo Riddle fics
You are in the astronomy tower for your evening lesson, and you hear giggling next to you.
“Mattheo says I’m his type.”
Your ears prickle at the mention of his name.
Oh, so you do have a type? And it's not me.
You brush off the memory of the argument you had with Mattheo the previous year when he would rather drink a shot than tell everyone at the party what his type was. That action stung even to the present day. You remember him defending himself saying that everyone knew you were his girlfriend and that he didn’t need to describe you. It still would have been nice to hear.
“He’s been writing to me all summer.” The same voice spills more tea to her friends.
Oh, so you can reply? Just to not me.
All summer you had hoped that Mattheo would write to you taking back the harsh words exchanged in your heated break-up a few weeks before the holidays. You sent him a postcard from Paris saying you wished he was with you, but you never got a response. You didn’t think anything of it since it was just a postcard, and he never usually replies to them.
Ever since then, the closest you have ever had to talking was during potions where you asked him to pass the jar of bat wings.
That was a week ago.
You now hear the same group of voices ask about you, to which the girl responds, “He says he’s over her and wants something new. He’s so obsessed with my eyes.”
You can’t tell if she’s speaking loudly for your benefit, but you certainly know that she is aware of your vicinity now as Pansy swears at them and throws them the finger. You quickly grab your friend’s arm and gently move her away.
Despite your better judgement, you turn to look at the person speaking about your ex-boyfriend as you stride to the other side of the room.
‘If you wanted those colour eyes. I could have got contacts.’
“Ignore them. You deserve better anyways.” Pansy tries to reassure you. You nod in agreement, but you can’t shake the uneasiness you feel when you look at Mattheo and he’s looking at her.
⳾*⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*⳾
“Pass me the butter?” Daphne requests.
Your head feels faint and wobble the butter dish nearly dropping the lid, and the whole butter itself, into Pansy’s hot chocolate.
“That’s not the dairy I want in my cup.” Pansy jokes. She takes the dish off your hands and passes it over to Daphne.
“You look like a panda. Are you feeling alright?” Tracey asks, taking a bite out of her breakfast. She calls your name when you don’t reply.
Your eyes give the great hall a once over and notice that the person haunting your nights is not at his usual seat with his friends.
“He’s on a date in Hogsmeade.” Informed Susan. “I heard Annlynn brag about it last night in the common room.”
You saw Pansy glare at Susan.
“What? Ow! Why did you kick me?” Susan reaches down to rub her hurt shin.
So y'all are in Hogsmeade now? Guess it's public.
You recall what Annlynn looks like and note that she has a face like that other girl you're in love with. The one in that movie you both watched again and again since it was his favourite. You scoff. ‘You knew I would see that. You knew I would notice.’ You think to yourself.
“Guys it’s fine. His loss and besides she looks nothing like me.” You can't really tell, should you be tryna take it as a compliment? It's kinda feeling like the opposite. You see your friends look at each other and then at you.
“Yes girly! Let’s go shopping and show him what he’s missing!” Pansy hypes you up as she raises her teacup and you all clink.
“Hear hear!”
⳾*⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*⳾
Browsing the racks in Galdrags Wizardwear, you have two outfits on hangers in your hands. You head over to the mirror stand by the shop’s main window frame and alternate putting the outfits in front of you. Your eyes look outside, and you catch them holding hands.
With the mirror in front of you, you couldn’t help comparing yourself and the girl he has in his arms.
‘She looks nothing like me. So why do you look so happy?’
Now you think you get the cause of it. He was holding out to find the opposite. From your hair to your eyes to your style. Even when you changed your hair because he said you looked better if you had it styled that way. It’s all the opposite of her.
And you know now, even if you tried to change that somehow, he’d end up with her anyway.
You snap out of your head when Megan scares you from behind. “You’d look cute in either.”
“Get both!” You hear Millicent from the other side of the room.
You smile and it fades when you lock eyes with Mattheo.
⳾*⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*⳾
He was with her longer than you thought they would be. It’s been weeks now. Gazing at the ceiling of your four-post bed, many questions swirl around your mind.
When you argue, does she say nothing so you feel good? When you’re at parties, does she step out of the spotlight so you bathe in it? When you’re alone, does she get up on top of you more than I would? When you capture her in your sketchbook, does she just love the picture 'cause you're painting it?
“Are you coming?” Your dorm mate calls to you.
It’s the first official match of the year. Slytherin vs Gryffindor. Although you protested not attending and insisted you’d rather stay inside your friends won even though it’s a rainy November.
You grab your umbrella and raincoat and tread your way to the quidditch pitch. The crowd in the stands were wild in anticipation. Susan beckons you to sit with them, and they’re all dressed devoid of house colours.
The students cheered for every goal scored and every goal saved. You scream and laugh to your heart's content. The feeling is freeing, and the autumn showers subside. Whizzing brooms and bludgers make you forget about the one boy on the team playing that still held your heart.
At least not until the whistle blows and Mattheo flies toward your stand. The beat of your heart pounds fast in your chest. Is he going to whisk you away like that the first time you broke up? Then your heart falls heavy and your lungs dispel all the hope in your body as you watch him take off with her.
Only it wasn’t Annlynn. But they do have the same features.
⳾*⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*⳾
It was a bad idea from the start. Studying with your shared friendship circle. But you had missed him. The only time you ever get to interact with him was in group settings.
He was seated beside you for two hours. You’d ask him what he wrote for certain questions, and he’d reply politely. Like he was talking to a stranger, not an old friend. But you take it. You take whatever communication you could get.
You ask once more for his answer to a defence against the dark arts question however, before he could reply, his chair is pulled back, and a girl sits on his lap.
You look away at the public display of affection they share. The nib of your quill ruined by the pressure you place on it.
“Get a room!” You hear Blaise chuckle.
You whip your head to see Mattheo standing, his arm wraps around her. “Let’s go Harper.”
“Get it boy!” Blaise winks at him. Mattheo shakes his head laughing.
They’ve all looked nothing like you. So why does he look so happy? He really must have been holding out to find the opposite.
⳾*⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*⳾
At the after-party for Slytherin’s win against Ravenclaw, all were present in the great hall. You fill up your cup with whatever fruit blend was in the punch bowl.
“Hey there! Care to Dance?” A quick glance at Mattheo and his date and you take the hand of one Anthony Goldstein.
You danced the night away and had nearly seven cups of the now alcoholic punch bowl, thank you Weasley twins. You tried everything to forget that Mattheo once again was with another girl who doesn’t resemble you.
Throughout the night your eyes darted to Mattheo and his new girl. The only time their lips were apart was when he would take a swig out of his cup. Every time you saw them, you took a gulp out of yours.
Now, you weren’t drunk per se, but you were feeling a little dizzy after twirling and swaying to the music. You see them walk out of the hall and you couldn’t take it anymore.
You decide to head outside for some air. You wipe a tear off your face with the back of your hand.
Whilst opening the courtyard door, you bump into someone. You catch yourself on to the biceps of the person.
“Oh my! You must work out!” The words come out as easily as you sipped the alcohol that caused the bravery.
“Careful darling wouldn’t want your date to think you’re hitting on me.” At the sound of Mattheo’s voice, you curse quietly. You take your heels off and walk away. Footsteps seem to be following you.
“How is Goldstein?” Mattheo asks, pronouncing the name slowly, a hard expression on his face.
You sit on one of the stone arch windows. The cold surface cools you down slightly.
“Oh, he is fine as hell!” You glare at him and with bitterness in your voice you ask, “How is clone number 4?”
You roll around a gobstone you find on the floor with your foot and kick it a bit too hard toward Mattheo.
“Her name is Maya. Why do you care anyway?” He kicks the stone back to you.
“I care but I don't!” Your volume is lower, your shoulders slouch, and your neck tilts downwards. “Just wondering when… all those times you… you said I'm beautiful. Was I being lied to?”
Looking up at him, you can’t tell if his expression is soft, or it is because your eyes are starting to water. When he says nothing, you carry on.
“She looks nothing like me. Can't really tell should I be tryna take it as a compliment? It's kinda feeling like the opposite.”
He takes a step forward and you hear him whisper your name. “You are the most beautiful girl I’ve ever known.”
You laugh scornfully. “Then why are you with her and not back with me?”
Mattheo runs his hands through his hair and holds them in his fists. “Because you were right!”
Your brows furrow. He continues, “Darling, I’m not good enough for you!”
“I have never said that!”
Flashbacks to your argument run through your mind. It might have slipped out. You can’t remember. It was all a blur. You don’t even recall the reason why you broke up this time. Whatever was said you were sure you never meant it. You never meant to hurt him like this.
“But it’s true! You deserve more than what I can give you. You deserve the world darling.” He takes another step towards you.
You look up and his eyes meet with yours.
“I don’t want the world. I want you.”
That’s all it took for his walls to crash down as his lips crashes yours.
#avalynlestrangewrites#oc by yasmineamaro#based on a sabrina carpenter song#mattheo riddle x reader#mattheo riddle imagine#mattheo riddle#mattheo riddle angst#mattheo riddle x you#mattheo riddle fic#mattheo riddle fanfic#slytherin#slytherin squad#blaise zabini#daphne greengrass#emails i can't send fwd#emails i can't send#mattheoriddle#mattheo x you#hufflepuff
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More Tweels/Idia hcs!
Anonymous asked:
I don't know if you'll ever see this but: I LITERALLY LOVE YOUR ART!! The whole reason I got a tumblr account was literally to be kept updated on your posts. your Jade x Idia posts keep me alive genuinely. So of course I'm here to ask for your fav headcanons on Jade x Idia or the Octotrio x Idia in general (bottom idia for the win)
Anonymous asked:
feed us more bottom idia hc's 😃... and possibly jadidi 🤔
Anonymous asked:
AHHHHH I just stumbled upon your tumblr a few days ago and I love your Jade/Floyd x Idia hc's!! MORE please
Anons!! Thank you so much for sending so much love our way, it means so much I can never stress it enough. I am very happy that you like our stuff, both headcanons and drawings <3 whether you’re new here or have been with us for a while, we appreciate you a lot.
Sorry for the late reply! Here are some more Jade/Idia and Floyd/Idia hcs; some neutral ones, some spicy ones, some a bit fucked up ones. I won’t be writing anything about Azul this time because posted a new bunch of Azul/Idia hcs not so long ago, but he is mentioned a couple of times!
Jade makes snacks for Idia sometimes (sometimes sour, sometimes sweet, sometimes salty) and asks Azul to bring them to him whenever he goes to a board game club meeting, which always makes Azul super annoyed because he isn’t Jade’s errand boy + Idia doesn’t want to eat anything anyway. But even though Idia always says that eating stuff that Jade has made sounds like a dangerous game, he got used to munching on whatever Azul brings him. Making sure that Idia-san always remembers him + inconveniencing Azul at the same time? Sounds perfect to Jade <3
If Idia visits the Lounge (which doesn’t happen very often, it’s a pretty rare occasion, to be honest), he always tries to find the tiniest, least noticeable place to sit, but he always gets all the attention, because Floyd sees him, drops whatever he’s been doing and jumps on Idia’s couch to lean on him, chat with him, tease him and even squeeze him a little bit, not caring at all that Azul will absolutely yell at him for that. And even though it’s always a super stressful thing to Idia and he would prefer Floyd not to jump him like that, whenever he visits, his heart starts pounding very loudly, because his body is aware that Floyd will notice him and react very soon. It’s 50% him being scared and 50% of weird anticipation that makes him feel a bit ticklish down there.
Despite the fact that it’s easier to catch Floyd in his eel form, the first twin that Idia saw in his eel form was actually Jade. It was his first time seeing a merman in general, and since it was a dark pool and Idia didn’t realise what he was looking at at first, he got kind of freaked out. But also mesmerised at the same time. Idia ran away the moment Jade noticed him and look at him with his scary glowing yellow eye + avoided him after that point, but he still couldn’t escape the visual of Jade’s huge slippery heavy-looking tail that was constantly on his mind.
But the first Leech to actually touch Idia in his eel form was Floyd. That wasn’t a planned encounter either; Idia pretty much just fell into the pool in the most ecchi anime convenient way possible. But Floyd caught him, grabbed him with his huge hands, left a couple of scratches with his fins and claws, and slid Idia’s entire body on his own tail. Idia ended up not only wet, but covered in the eel slime, cold and weirdly aroused. He just got rid of weird eel-related dreams that Jade caused..!
Compared to Floyd, who touches, kisses and bites in a very overwhelming manner, Jade gives Idia some moments to “breathe” during sex, but this only makes things worse somehow. Because Idia’s brain just shuts off completely when he is with Floyd, but Jade makes sure that Idia is constantly aware of how exactly he is getting fucked, what sounds he makes, how his body reacts and how Jade’s dick creates a bulge inside his stomach. Jade always stops just in time for Idia to catch himself yelping pathetically and twitching, moments away from orgasm. And Jade always smiles like a criminal that is about to betray and shoot him when it happens…
Jade’s and Floyd’s dicks are pretty much the same size-wise, but the way they operate them is different; after having sex with Floyd Idia feels completely ruined. Not in a horrible way, but even if it’s been days, his insides remember how it felt when Floyd was shoving that thing deep inside his body. So it’s not unusual for Idia to spend a couple of days in bed after having sex with Floyd, especially considering the fact that if he moves his legs in the wrong way, he’ll probably trigger a spasm that’ll send a shockwave of pain and pleasure through his whole body.
Idia still isn’t sure why this whole thing keeps happening and why the tweels keep chasing him to have sex with him; he kind of was sure that they would lose all interest in him after a week or two. But even though he acts annoyed and even freaked out by them, somewhere deep inside it feels weirdly good to know that these two think about him so much that they just can’t get enough of him. This is such a cringy thought for Idia… but suddenly realising that Jade or Floyd could fit his entire dick inside his butt without any problem is more cringe; is it really this loose now??
Jade and Floyd are fascinated with the way Idia’s hair colour changes when he is embarrassed and aroused, and they know that it also changes in other situations, so now they have a quest to collect the entire rainbow of Idia’s hair. The winner gets to have fun with Idia while the other watches. Idia loses either way because the idea of being fucked by one of the tweels while the other one is pissed, horned up and cockblocked sounds like a nightmare lol Idia isn’t aware of this little challenge/game of theirs, which is for the best.
Floyd approaches the challenge by making Idia experience different physical sensations. He also loves to freak Idia out, he feels like if he does it enough, he could get a cool new colour. He just couldn’t scare him enough yet… maybe if he combines it with them having sex… Or makes Idia believe that he is about to drown him and keep his head under the water for like a minute until he either cums or passes out…
Jade’s approach is to play mental games with Idia + use potions, mushrooms and other stuff that he could feed him or inject into him. He got pretty interesting results, especially when poor Idia got super delirious and confused as Jade was having sex with him after pretty much frying his brains with the newest mushroom-based potion… but Floyd said that it doesn’t really count because it’s cheating.
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20 Questions for Fic Writers
Thanks so much for the tag @zsparz !!!💖
1. How many works do you have on ao3?
166!
2. What’s your total ao3 word count?
2.013.111. I write when I‘m stressed, can you tell?
3. What fandoms do you write for?
Mostly the MCU. Frostiron my beloved 💕 I recently posted a Huskerdust fic, though, and a couple years ago I posted some Good Omens stuff! I have another Good Omens wip brewing, but I haven‘t worked on it in a while.
4. Top five fics by kudos
First one up would be Your Call, a multi-chaptered ABO Frostiron thing that‘s sadly unfinished because I‘m not happy with where it was going somehow. Then Corners of Reality, my baby, Yes or No, Dereliktion and last but not least Vita Nova!
5. Do you respond to comments?
God I try. I’m so bad at it though. On long fics I always answer comments on the last chapter when I post the new one, but I keep forgetting to reply to comments on older chapters or oneshots😭 They all mean the world to me though.
6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?
Ohh I wrote a few angsty oneshots but it‘s been a while. Maybe Here, that‘s the most recent one. Of the older ones I remember all my light most clearly. Tony is dead or dying in both of these lol, poor Loki.
7. What is the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?
I like to think the happiest endings in stories are ones you had to fight for a little bit, so maybe Dereliktion. That was a long ride filled with angst and messed up relationships lol. I think Haywire (my first and so far only Sentinel/Guide fic, I love that trope a lot akfj) also has a pretty fluffy ending, and I have some oneshots that are pretty much all fluff!!
8. Do you get hate on fics?
Occasionally? Just the other day I got another anon ask on here complaining about my recent stories. Makes me extra thankful for everyone who takes the time to tell me they enjoy my stuff!!💖
9. Do you write smut?
I do! Pretty much all the time lol. I love writing Dom/sub relationships!
10. Craziest crossover?
I don‘t think I‘ve ever written one before?
11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?
Yesss. I‘m not sure if they just didn’t know any better though, they deleted the copied parts as soon as I told them.
12. Have you ever had a fic translated?
Yes!! I‘m always so happy when that happens!!
13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?
Also yes. One year I did a whole Frostiron Advent calendar with @rabentochter (do you remember this????? How did we have the time??????? Insane) and we wrote a few more collabs beyond that.
14. All time favorite ship?
Frostiron!!!!!!!!!!!! I love my sassy messed up geniuses lol
15. What’s a wip you want to finish but doubt you ever will?
Uhhh I‘ve got a few. I‘d like to finish/rewrite Your Call. Once I also had the cracky fever dream of Loki doing random standup comedy shows in New York because he‘d KILL that. Can you imagine the sarcasm. The gallow‘s humor. Anyway I started that and then realized I Cannot Write Standup Routines at all. So there‘s that.
16. What are your writing strengths?
What I like to write the most is character and relationship development, so hopefully I‘m decent at that? Also dialogue, I hope, but that kinda comes and goes depending on the conversation.
17. What are your writing weaknesses?
I kinda suck thinking of longish plot that goes beyond “will they kiss?? Will they FUCK???” so I’ve been trying to practice that. Also scenes with lots of action😭
18. Thoughts on dialogue in another language?
I like it. I’ve been wanting to write a fic where Tony can properly show off his language skills but I don’t know enough languages to pull that off lol
19. First fandom you wrote in?
The VERY first was Dracula, back when I was 13 or so. I had a big thing for van Helsing back then. My first fandom on ao3 was Once Upon a Time!!
20. Favorite fic you’ve written?
Ooohhh. That would be Corners of Reality, because I worked on it for years before I even started posting it and I love how it turned out. It’s a slow burn time travel enemies to friends to almost lovers to enemies to friends to lovers to enemies to allies to lovers fic. I had SO much fun writing it I still think about it all the time😭😭
I’m just gonna tag some writers I know are on here: @endlessstairway @xottan @izhunny @arabesqueangel @bouncydragon no pressure though!! And if you see this and you’re a writer please consider yourself tagged!!💖
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the same damn thing
matty healy x reader based on this request🖤
requests are open still!!! this is my first matty request so to anon i hope it somewhat resembles what you had in mind :)
do not copy my stuff elsewhere but reblogs are appreciated 🖤
Summary- when you decided to take a break from your own music, you focused on helping matty and the boys on their new record and tour, offering your vocals for about you during a few live sets- though tonight, Matty’s lyrics hit differently. You realised that theyre about you-
lots of random doubting and fluff?
Word count 1.3k
༺ ♰ ༻
You were set for the stage any minute now, though it was a matter of how dramatic Matty was setting himself up to be that night. Tonight was your last time lending a hand to The 1975 before you set back on your own tour, for the past two shows, Matty had asked for you perform About You with the band on stage- an offer you couldn’t decline.
You remember London, 02, night two. You were an unannounced guest but honestly didn’t expect as huge of a welcome as you got that night, probably because you were no where near as interesting as Taylor swift from the previous show. You and Matty had always been a thing, platonically and sentimentally since Jack Antonoff introduced you two back ages ago. However, Matty would cowardly disagree.
First, he asked you if you’d like to be on a track for their latest album. He’d asked if you were willing to record your vocals for About You, and he’d ask when you were free.
And secondly, he was still in love with you. Whatever had been brewing inside him for the past- god knows how long had finally eaten him up from the inside and he was done being subtle. He was petrified that this tender desire to be with you would eventually suffocate him- he was done avoiding writing about you. The moment he swore to George about being earnest, he knew it was completely over for him. He’d tried to love you once. Though that was interrupted by a round of horse therapy and two rounds of tours from both parties- he didn’t know if it’ll end the way it always did. And something in side you was clawing at your rib cage too, curling around you heart and spreading infectiously under the radar.
On your second night, in Birmingham you felt the warmth of his stare prying its way into your mind, and down to your heart. You’d spent the entire night and the rest of the next day, until now- trying to tend to the animal of feelings that had scratched its way out from your chest. How long has it been like this? How long had you tamed your love for him and why now?
It all made sense now. The way he’d make up for your lost time together right after coming home from tour, in between shows and whatever he was up to. The desperation in his eyes when he’d ask if you’d come perform for them and this new doomed earnestness he’d adopted for the album. You stared blankly at the lights illuminating the stairs from the hallway to the wings, your earpiece rested around your neck, fidgeting with your hands and picking on the bottom of your top. Why now?
Were all your anonymous love songs secretly for written for Matty? Did your subconsciousness realise what you had going before you ever saw clear enough? Did you mean everything you’d supposedly said about him in your music?-
“Hey! You’re up!”
One of the stage hands had motioned for you towards the wings, that frail white door waiting for you to open it. You couldn’t drop your thoughts about Matty- you were fucked.
Pressured by the song, already crescendoing through the speakers, you made your way through the dark towards the door, opening it quietly as you walked onto the dimly lit stage. You made your way past Jamie and George, picking up a microphone set on a stool next to a pillar- exactly like you did the previous night.
You and I,
Don’t let go-
Were alive,
Don’t let go-
With nothing to do, I could lay and just look in your eyes
Your voice was slightly lower than Polly’s but it made for a good harmony. The Birmingham crowd had lost the moment you’d began those words.
Wait,
Don’t let go-
And pretend,
Don’t let go-
Hold on and hope that we’ll find our way back in the end
You started to think that the song was too optimistic for a man who couldn’t make up his mind sometimes. And indeed Matty had never given up on you since he first realised that he was in love with you- only now were your paths beginning to cross. Making your way down to Matty, sitting on the edge of the top half of the stage looking down at him, you saw that same flare in his eyes that had landed you in an entanglement of intoxicating emotions.
Do you think I have forgotten?
About you?
His eyes were fixated on you, and maybe you liked the way he looked from this angle but whatever it was- it made your heart race exhaustingly, more than any rush of performance adrenaline could ever accomplish.
There was something bout you that now, I cant remember
Its the same damn thing that made my heart surrender
And I miss you on the train, I miss you in the morning
I never know what to think about
I think about you-
And in the moment of that exact brief surrender of a heart- it finally hit you. Matty had written this song for you- unable to decide whether it would be the end of him if you ever picked up on it. He didn’t know how you’d screwed him over with your smile and gentle eyes that rained and flooded his mind all too often. He simply couldn’t deal with it much longer as the house he’d built around his love for you would eventually collapse under his swelling heart. You kept singing on autopilot, your legs now crossed as you sat on the floor still looking at him.
Do you think I have forgotten?
About you?
Dont let go-
About you-
Do you think I have forgotten?
About you?
Dont let go-
Matty could see the shock in your eyes as his inevitable exposure had crossed you. He saw the way you were looking at him even through the strobing lights on stage and the unforgiving roar of crowd. You microphone had now been turned off and switched to earpiece transmission only. It was then out of carnival instinct you picked it up and held it right against your chest-
‘I love you’
You blurted out like a bittersweet whisper which passed straight into Matty’s earpiece. He looked at you equally stunned as if his collection of ‘almost confessions’ were laid out right on your body.
Without even asking he walked the distance towards you, closing the gap between you as he stood before you. His eyes never left yours and during a fleeting moment of confessions, he snaked his hand up around you neck, bringing you down into a kiss. You were now leaning over the side of the stage, and Matty was on the tips of his toes- the rest of the band were still going to your surprise but the rest of the arena had just lost their collective minds. He kissed you. Tender and sweet. It was rotten work to love you but he did it anyway as he stained your heart in return.
Matty pulled away from the kiss, taking both your hands and pulling you down to his level of the stage. His hands were now cupping you face as you stood in front of him, his back still to the audience as John’s sax solo faded into the background.
‘Will you be mine?’ He said, a whisper with the volume of a thousand speakers despite the fact you could barely hear him over the crowd. One nod of the head became two- and soon a million times more as he brought you into a kiss once again.
AN: hope that wasnt a confusing read!! I kinda lost track of where i was going with this one but it made some sort of sense in the end :)
#matty healy x reader#matty healy fic#matty the 1975#matty healy x y/n#matty healy fluff#matty healy#the 1975 fic#the 1975 x reader#adam hann#ross macdonald#george daniel
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could you write something where rick is fingering the reader and daryl walks in by accident while rick is praising her with things like ‘good girl’ and when daryl does walk in she tries to move ricks hand away but he doesnt stop not even after she cums and daryl is just standing there speechless
Own Me (18+) || Rick Grimes
Thank you Anon 💗
I always wanted to write something in the direction and the request has inspired me incredibly 🤭
I realize how the Saviours look at me. Especially the male ones.
It was not so long ago that I was handed from one to the other and had to do what they asked of me.
Thankfully, that time has passed and I have met Rick.
It was the day Negan forced them all to kneel before him. That was the day we met for the first time and days later I was still dreaming about his blue eyes.
One thing led to another and now Rick's hand is low on my back as he leads me through the Sanctuary and I struggle to ignore the stares of the others.
Rick knows exactly what my role was with Negan and knows that I certainly didn't do it willingly, but that doesn't change the fact that it happened.
I know that he, too, is trying to ignore the fact that 80 percent of the males in attendance have seen me naked at least once, and he's doing it for my sake.
Rick is incredibly possessive and probably would love to cut off the dick of anyone who used to have me with him, but I've asked him to back off because it wouldn't change anything anyway and would only give more tension between the now beaten Saviours and us.
I can already see the exit and am about to exhale when a guy whistles after us and shouts, "Rick? We're all one group now. That was your big speech, wasn't it? Wouldn't it be fair to share then? Food, water...women? It's not like everyone hasn't fucked the whore next to you and the way she used to moan, she liked it too."
Before I can hold Rick back, he breaks away from me and goes for the guy I can't even remember.
The Saviour is maybe half a head taller than my boyfriend, but apparently he didn't expect Rick, who has been completely level-headed for the last few months after the war, to go at him like that.
That's why he stumbles back a few steps when Rick grabs him by the throat and presses him firmly against the wooden pillar behind him.
No one in the room makes a sound and it is so quiet that everyone can hear Rick's voice trembling with rage: "Sharing with scum like you? You probably even feel the need to take what belongs to someone else because a woman like her would never spread her legs for a asshole like you."
Briefly, the guy looks over at me and Rick moves even closer to him, which draws his eyes back to my boyfriend, who hisses, "You don't look at her. Ever. If you even dare go near her, I'll gouge your eyes out and castrate you. Got it?"
Silently, they stare into each other's eyes, and Rick whispers menacingly, "Say yes."
Another brief silence follows before the guy mutters, "Yes."
Still Rick doesn't move away from him and I reach out my hand to him, "Rick? That's enough. He gets it. Let's go, please."
Gritting his teeth tightly, Rick lets go of him and grabs my hand tighter than usual.
I flinch briefly and then let him drag me out of the room, but instead of walking out to Daryl and the others, he pulls me into an adjacent room and pushes me inside before pulling the door shut so it's just ajar.
Confused, I look up at him, "Why don't we go outside?"
A surprised gasp slips from my lips as he pulls me tightly to him by the back of my neck, and I brace myself with my hands against his chest to keep from colliding with him.
I can feel his heart beating fast against my palm and I can guess that he's still incredibly tense about this guy.
Gently, I stroke his chest with the flat of my hand and whisper, "Just forget it, Rick. It doesn't matter what he said."
His eyes glitter in a very particular way as he looks down at me and murmurs, "Did he sleep with you?"
I tug at his shirt, knowing I don't have to lie, "I don't remember. Could be, though. I was in bed with most of the people present, so I don't remember every face."
He just looks at me for a moment before slowly turning me in his arms and pulling my back against his chest. Not knowing what he's up to, I ask, "Shouldn't we really be getting going? I'm sure the others will be looking for us by now."
Instead of answering me, he leans over, brushes my hair aside, and kisses my exposed neck.
It's the exact spot he knows full well will turn me to putty in his arms, and I whimper softly, "What are you doing?"
His palm of his right hand moves from my hip to my stomach and I wince as I realize what he's getting at.
His lips slide over my neck and I curse my body, which immediately responds to his touch, even though my head says otherwise, "Rick, not here."
My gaze darts to the ajar door, wanting to pull away from him, but his grip is firm and he licks over my pulse, "Why not?"
His fingers slip under my waistband and I turn my face to him, "Someone can come in here at any time and I'm sure they can hear everything outside."
His soft lips graze mine as he breathes, "I want them to hear you moaning my name."
My heart skips a beat and I swallow hard at his words.
His eyes bore into mine and he doesn't break eye contact even as he slides his hand completely between my legs and I moan softly at the contact.
My head falls onto his shoulder and he slowly slides a finger inside me.
Immediately I tighten around him and he whispers harshly, "I've barely touched you and you're already wet for me."
I press my ass harder against his crotch and feel it turn him on too.
His thumb between my legs strokes just the right spot and I moan, "Rick."
Softly, he hisses, "Louder."
My whole backside is pressed against his larger body and in the places where I am soft he is hard and masculine.
I've had sexual experiences with many men, but with Rick it's different. When you love someone, every touch, is like fireworks and every kiss, is like a surge of electricity.
He squeezes harder and I actually moan his name louder.
His hot breath hits my ear as he growls, "Good girl."
I flick my eyes open to look down at his hand, just then the door is pushed open and Daryl is standing in the doorway.
Before he can place the scene before his eyes he opens his mouth, "Rick? I..." And then abruptly breaks off.
Panicked, I grab Rick by the wrist and want to pull his hand out of my pants because Daryl is also staring right at that spot.
But instead of releasing me, he slides a second finger inside me and I bite down hard on my bottom lip to keep from making a sound.
I quickly look up at Rick, but his gaze is coldly fixed on Daryl and I know he's trying to stake his claim on me with it. Even in front of Daryl.
He wants him to see what he can do to me.
I don't dare address Rick because I know all I'd get out of my lips is a gasp, so I stare up at him, trying to use it to draw his gaze to me, but he doesn't dignify me with a glance and just growls, "What did I say?"
My eyes dart back to Daryl who's standing there silently, which isn't really anything new, but his eyes are also fixed on Rick's hand and I don't think he's going to move anytime soon, so I loosen my tense body and Rick rewards me with a kiss on my neck, "You're doing good."
I have no idea where to look without getting even more uncomfortable with my boyfriend fingering me in front of his best friend, so I turn my head so I can only look at Rick and gasp, "Please."
He finally looks at me, "Please what?"
I surprise myself by not asking him to stop as I sigh, "Please more."
Rick lowers his head and kisses me hard on the lips and slides his tongue between my lips.
In the back of my mind, I know we're putting on a show for Daryl that I might be ashamed of later, but at that moment, I couldn't care less.
So I put an arm around Rick's neck and he asks harshly against my lips, just loud enough for Daryl to hear, "Whose are you?"
Not caring that I'm not actually anyone's property, I moan, "Yours. You own me, Rick."
He releases from my lips, "That's right."
The hand that isn't between my legs moves over my ribs to my breasts and he pinches my nipple through the fabric of my shirt. Immediately my head falls back onto his shoulder again and from half-closed eyes I look back up at Daryl, who can't take his eyes off me.
I know how proud Rick is to be able to touch me as he pleases and I barely put up any resistance. He's proud of how my body responds to him and the pleasure he can give me.
Even as I come twitching around his fingers he doesn't stop and I greedily rub myself against his hard cock without taking my eyes off Daryl.
Any shame has evaporated and I moan Rick's name over and over again as I come closely following a second time and he has probably reached its goal, because he pulls his hand out of my pants.
My legs almost give out from under me as he brings his hand to my lips and I pull the fingers that were inside me before between my lips and lick them clean as he asks me to do.
This makes Daryl gaze travel up to my lips and then to my eyes. It's like the eye contact pulls him out of his stupor and jerkily takes a step back, "You..."
Yeah, he doesn't have the words, and to be honest, neither do I.
But Rick doesn't seem embarrassed at all as he pushes me forward a bit at the hip, "What's up?"
Pure irritation is written on Daryl's face before he clears his throat, "We're waiting for you."
Rick juts his chin, "As you saw, we were busy for a minute, but we'll be right there."
Daryl nods and disappears as quickly as he appeared.
Staring in disbelief at the spot in the doorway, I can't believe I've been a part of giving Daryl free porn.
Gently Rick takes my hand in his and pulls me out of the room, "I've never seen Daryl so speechless."
I blink several times before replying, "Why did you do that?"
Immediately he stops and turns to face me. His blue eyes glisten with satisfaction as he whispers, "Because a lot of people wish you'd moan their name like you moan mine. But it's my name now, and it damn well always will be."
@positive-squid @hail-yourselves @mrsxreeves @chanlvr2 @criminalwalkingsupernatural @sunshinevirus
#rick grimes#rick grimes x reader#rick grimes smut#rick grimes imagine#twd#twd x reader#the walking dead#request#andrew lincoln
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Thomas Barrow x sister!reader - different roads but still family
Hey, was wondering if you’d be able to write a flashback of sorts to Thomas Barrow x sister readers childhood. Maybe just a couple of wholesome memories from before Thomas’s life at Downton and his relationship with younger sister reader. Would be nice to see a different side to Thomas from the persona we see in Downton, though giving what he mentioned about his childhood (regarding his father and such) I’m unsure what he would have been like as a kid and young teen. - Anon💜
Thomas sat on his bed, looking at the childish drawing in his hands.
It was one of his most prized possessions, and he ran his thumb along the name scrawled messily on the bottom corner.
(Y/N) Barrow.
His sister, his little sister whom he had up and left in a terrible household because he couldn’t bare to be there anymore.
He sometimes if you were still just as happy as you were as a child, and wondered what you had done with yourself.
He wondered if you found yourself recalling life all those years ago like he did, like he was doing.
“Father will not be pleased with this.”
You looked up at your older brother, grinning a little bit.
You held the toy out to him, shaking it in your hands a little bit.
“You must use your words if you want something.”
You didn’t like speaking, and often didn’t say a word if anybody else was around, but when it was you and Thomas sometimes you would speak.
Thought he always had to remind you to use words when there was something you wanted from him.
“Play?” You asked.
Thomas sighed, shaking his head.
“I have no time, I must do the chores before father gets home.”
Your grin fell a little bit.
“Play?” You asked a little sadly.
Thomas sighed heavily this time, sitting down on the floor, taking the toy from you.
“Fine, but only for a few moments, then I must do the chores (Y/N).”
You beamed from ear to ear and shuffled over to sit next to him, grabbing a stick you had brought in from outside and began to hit the floor.
Thomas rolled his eyes but said nothing, because as long as he took the stick out and cleaned the dirt it was fine.
You got him to play games for a short while before he got up to begin to do his chores, and you got up to follow him.
Thomas smiled a little as he remembered how you were like his little shadow, wherever he went you wanted to go with him.
And you would.
But not all the memories were happy.
You sat next to your brother on the grass, and you reached into your pockets, pulling out some food for him.
“Im not hungry.”
“Maybe not, but you must eat Thomas, please.”
He said nothing.
“You know it is okay to cry if you want to.”
“A man does not cry.” He snapped.
You turned to look at him slightly.
“Everybody must cry sometimes Thomas Barrow, to cry does not mean you are weak or any less than a man. It means you have some emotions you need to let out, and that is okay.”
“Well perhaps you should tell father that.”
You smiled softly at him, reaching out to take his hand.
“Father is a horrible man, you needn’t pay any mind to what he says. One day you are going to become so successful, then father will ever regret being so nasty towards you.”
“Do not say what you do not mean.”
“I mean it very much, you are a good person, and the best brother. I love you very much Thomas.”
He glanced at you.
“Will you always love me? Even if I did not become successful? Even with everything father says…?”
You held out your arms for him.
“Of course I will.”
Thomas leant forward to hug him, and you smiled sadly.
“Father will be home late today, go Thomas. Run and never look back..” you whispered.
He pulled away with a shocked look.
“I cannot leave you here.”
“I will be fine, promise me you will go Thomas. You must go, please, to be safe.”
“And what about you?”
“Father is kinder on me than he is on you.”
Thomas went ti argue, but the look in your eyes told him there was something you knew that he didn’t.
So he made the most of that evening with you, spending all evening by your side, even if it was just to do chores before he left.
Thomas was there for everything, he taught you how to read and write when he could, he taught you everything you needed to know to survive.
In return, you protected him the best you could, always made him smile and comforted him.
And thinking about you brought tears to the otherwise emotionless man’s eyes.
Because he loved you.
Sighing softly, he set the picture back in the bow and closed it, running a hand down his face as he steeled his emotions.
Thomas took a breath and returned to his duties, getting ready for the dinner party that was being thrown tonight.
As he was walking around serving drinks, the doors were opened again, and Mr Carson stepped in.
“The honourable Lady (Y/N) has arrived my lord.”
“Ah brilliant, bring her through, Barrow set her a place at the table.”
“Very good my lord.”
Thomas rushed around collecting last minute things, mumbling how people should just learn to turn up on time to events.
When he came back, he set another plate and glass down, and he pulled the chair out.
“I do apologise Lord Grantham, there was a slight mix up with my schedule.”
“You needn’t apologise, you are here and that is what counts, come and sit.”
Thomas returned to his spot, and he watched as the newcomer came walking through, and his eyes were glued to her.
Because he would recognise his baby sister anywhere.
And apparently you recognised him as well because you froze in your place as you stared at him.
“Is there a problem? We can send Barrow away if he makes you uncomfortable.” Lady Cora spoke.
“No, please, let him stay.”
You smiled, stepping away from the table as you walked over to him.
“My big brother, an esteemed butler, who would have thought?” You asked gently.
“Technically I am not a butler, I am under butler.”
“That does not matter, you made something of yourself Thomas, that’s what counts.”
You reached up and hugged him, and he hugged you back, letting out a small breath.
“Little (Y/N), a lady, who would have thought?” He whispered.
You turned to the lord of the house.
“May I request my brother sits with me? I understand he may not be allowed to dine with us, but I should like for him to at least sit by my side.”
“Well… I suppose we have no need for so many to be acting as footmen tonight..” lord Grantham mumbled.
“Ignore him, of course Barrow my sit with you Lady (Y/N).”
You smiled, sitting down, gesturing for him to sit next to you.
He had so many questions for you, but for now they didn’t matter. What mattered was he knew you were okay, and he could see you had made a name for yourself.
And Thomas couldn’t be more proud of you
#Downton abbey#Downton abbey x reader#downton abbey imagine#Downton abbey x you#Thomas Barrow#Thomas Barrow x reader#Thomas Barrow x you#Thomas Barrow imagine
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Last night I received the following concerning anonymous message:
When I first read it I was immediately suspicious and thought this was a malicious attempt to start in-fighting while everyone is on edge over the sock-puppet oc-stealing individual that has been hovering around the fc5 community for some time now. However, at least one mutual I have in common with the blog named in the anon has since blocked me, which leads me to believe that the message above might be true and I am being accused of plagiarism. I have left that blog name covered up in case this is all some huge misunderstanding.
In the midst of these accusations, no one (aside from the anon) has reached out to make me aware of the situation or even what I am being accused of plagiarizing. I have reached out to the person who is supposedly accusing me to confirm whether or not they are actually accusing me, but have not yet received a response.
In the meantime I'm providing my limited perspective of the situation to (hopefully) clear the air.
When I first became active in the fc5 community on tumblr (about two years ago, I think?) I was mutuals with the redacted blog in the anonymous message. This person is a long-time prominent member in the community. Their oc and their deputy/john fanfic is well loved and very popular. Not too long after I joined the fandom I began writing my fic, Holy Roller which is a deputy/joseph fanfic centered around my oc, Delilah. It was inspired by a deputy/joseph fic on ao3 called To Build A Home (and I have an old message with a different mutual that I can dig up if requested in which I discuss the premise of that fic and how it inspired me).
In an attempt to be more active in the community, I started reading a few of my mutuals fanfic (including this person's fic). From time to time I would send asks/dms/leave tags in WIP posts leaving encouraging and positive feedback and just enjoying someone else's writing in general. I believe I only read up to chapter 3 or 4 of the fic of the person that is accusing me of plagiarism.
The only similar thing I am aware of between their fic and mine is that we both make allusions/references/allegories (whatever the correct term is) to the biblical book of judges and specifically within that book - the story of Samson and Delilah. When I realized that both of our ocs/other characters in the fic make a reference to Delilah, I remember sending them an ask about it because I thought their take on their oc being a stand-in for Delilah/Samson/some amalgamation of the two was neat. At the time I believe they referenced some biblical academic debate about several different accounts regarding Delilah - some in which she is painted as a victim rather than a seductress. If I recall correctly, they offered to send me a link to their reference material, but I don't remember if I ever got the link - all I know is that I never actually read through whatever reference they were using.
Shortly after this exchange (maybe a few days, maybe a week or two, I don't remember) this mutual blocked me (and I think I was blocked maybe a year and a half ago? I don’t remember; I don’t think I’ve interacted with this person in over a year though). At the time it did not occur to me that the Samson and Delilah references might be why they blocked me. I reached out to a mutual we had in common to see if I had done anything or reblogged anything that hurt or offended this person because whatever the issue was I wanted to apologize make it right. It is my understanding that this mutual we had in common asked this person directly and the reason I was given via a dm back from this mutual in common was "[they] are feeling Some Kind Of Way." I didn't know how to interpret that, so I assumed that by blocking me, this person was setting a boundary of some kind and didn't want me interacting with them. Since I thought they didn't want me interacting with their stuff, I didn't push the issue further and blocked them in return so that I wouldn't see their stuff cross my dash anymore. I also never read any further in their fic.
If I am correct about my assumptions and the accusations in question are regarding the Samson and Delilah references in both of our fics, I am not sure what to say other than it is a complete coincidence. I don't know how this person has been interpreting my own work, all I can offer is my own perspective and decisions I made about my oc, Delilah.
Below I have done my best to outline aspects of Delilah's character and my personal reasoning behind why she is the way she is:
When selecting Delilah's name I knew I wanted a biblical name since the fictional cult in fc5 is a christian-based cult. I briefly researched female biblical figures and I decided on Delilah because the name didn't strike me as super common and I wanted my oc to be a character who may be misunderstood and villainized by some but is still sympathetic - much like the biblical Delilah based on how you interpret/read into the biblical narrative. I believe the name Delilah also means "fragile" or "delicate." I liked the meaning behind her name because my oc is physically resilient which may at first glance seem at odds with her name, but she is emotionally and mentally very vulnerable which is NOT at odds with her name.
As far as physical appearance the closest thing Delilah has to a face-claim is Maya Hawk specifically from Stranger Things. I liked her hair style and some of the 80s-esque fashion she wears in some of her photoshoots. Delilah has kind of dark red hair and my line of thinking there was that Wrath = anger = red. In my fic, Delilah is at times an embodiment of Wrath much like the in-game fc5 deputy. In my writing she is frequently associated with the color red (to tie back into Wrath symbolism) while Joseph is associated with the color gold (based on a long character analysis post I wrote about his glasses a long time ago).
As previously stated, Delilah was intended to have some minor association made between her and the biblical figure. There is a scene early on in my fic where Delilah calls Joseph over the phone only for him to accuse her of being a spy attempting to get close to him and betray him which would (he says) ultimately lead to his downfall. I personally see Joseph as someone who projects himself and his experiences onto the biblical narrative and then uses that biblical narrative as evidence to justify his actions (sort of like an endless self re-enforcing confirmation bias feedback loop... thing). This is a pattern of behavior of his that is referenced in other places in my fic - specifically his in-game references to the book of revelation and then later in my fic to the book of job. It is my reasoning that, when Joseph encountered Delilah by chance at a bar, learned her name, and learned of her connection to the Hope County sheriff, that he was ready and willing to connect her to the biblical Delilah based both on their shared name and their specific circumstances. I believe that Joseph himself even hints at that in their dialogue.
The only other instance I can think of where my work sort of alludes to Samson and Delilah is a few hints and conversations where Delilah explains that she had a traumatic experience as a child where her hair was cut off against her will. Honestly the Samson and Delilah symbolism potential there is secondary to the fact that it was intended to reference my own childhood fears and insecurities. For reasons I won't get into, my hair has been a major part of my identity and how I present myself my whole life. There was a time where I did not have autonomy over my appearance and that manifested itself in this fear of having something so crucial to how I present myself taken away against my will.
This feeds into my next explanation: I have stated before that Delilah is not intended to be a self insert, however there are major aspects of her character and the way she is written that are pulled from my personal experiences. Her religious trauma, her toxic relationships with the maternal figures in her life, her self-doubt, her self-loathing, her deeply ingrained religious guilt, and the symptoms of her anxiety/panic attacks are all pulled from my own deeply personal life experiences. Delilah is a character who keeps everyone at arms length because she believes there is fundamentally something wrong with her - that her flaws are something to be covered up rather than accepted. And the point of her dynamic with Joseph in my fic was for her to find a source of unconditional love that she'd been craving, but to have that love come from someone incredibly fucked-up, dangerous, and manipulative.
As for how well I have executed these concepts - that is a matter of every reader's personal opinion and they have a right to that opinion. This fic I have been working on for approximately two years is the longest work I have ever written. I am inexperienced and still developing my style and skills as a writer. There are approximately four more chapters I have outlined before it will be complete.
I would like to reiterate that I have not yet received confirmation from the person supposedly accusing me on the specific details of what they think I plagiarized. The purpose of this post was to explain my thought process behind my oc and the plot of my fic - I wanted to demonstrate that there is real creative reasoning and intent behind my writing, that my interpretations of Joseph and my characterization of my oc Delilah are based on my own thoughts about fc5 canon material, and that any similarities between my work and someone else's is a coincidence and there is no malicious intent behind any fandom related content I've ever put out on my blog or on ao3.
If this is all a big misunderstanding, then I apologize and I would like to keep in place the boundaries that were set before I was ever made aware of any potential accusations.
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so you absolutely got me into band of brothers, I never thought I would binge a world war 2 tv show but here we are…your power…
I’m so sorry to ask this but I remember you posted a fic rec recently and I can’t seem to find it. Do you have a specific tag you use that I can check or a link to that post?
HI HELLO <3 i am SO beyond glad you watched band of brothers, welcome to the tiniest/best fandom ever <333 if u ever want to come off anon and scream more about it w me please feel free!!!
i think this might be the post ur thinking of?? but here have a couple more recs i didn't put on there:
a single united body by leoandsnake (winnix, canonverse, 41k, E)
Winters and Nixon grapple with the end of the war and their budding relationship.
Amuse-Bouche by ThrillingDetectiveTales (winnix, canonverse, 2.8k, G)
“It’s the curse of the gourmand, darling,” Blanche explained over the sudden swell of strings, lifting one shoulder in a lazy, feline shrug. “Every man who avails himself so thoroughly of the world’s great pleasures is destined to show the evidence of his passions, eventually. There’s no shame in it.”
playing by the book by ferretbueller (baberoe, au, 2.6k, T)
“Nice game,” Gene said quietly, slowing to a stop.
“Thanks.” Babe couldn’t fight his smile. He was probably being so obvious. “Come celebrate with us.”
Despite himself, Gene laughed a little. “I think there’s a rule against that in the referee handbook.”
Babe could definitely think of a few other rules in the referee handbook he couldn’t care less about.
Let nothing you dismay by dancinguniverse (winnix, au, 12.7k, T)
A Winnix fic in the style of a Hallmark Christmas movie. When Nix crashes his car on a snowy December night, he’s rescued by lonely veteran Dick Winters. They find they could both use some holiday cheer.
In a Roundabout Way by verynotconcise (baberoe, canonverse, 12k, T)
Recently I’ve been thinking about those days again. I wonder if I miss them. Not the war I mean, but those times that I spent with the guys and you. It’s funny because I don’t remember spending that much time with you, but whenever I think about those days again, you always seem to be in them, whether you’re talking to me or taking care of the rest. Even now I still feel like you’re just around the corner, waiting for me with a smoke in one hand and a lighter in the other. Then I remember that we’re back home now, and you’re all the way in Louisiana.
A collection of letters Babe writes Eugene on his trip around the states.
and finally some ones i haven't read yet but marked for later bc they sound dope as hell:
eucharista (this is how meat loves meat) by estrella_marie (baberoe and babejulian, canonverse, 3.3k, M)
weary traveler by fuckyousledge (baberoe, canonverse, 2.7k, M)
to the bone by blood_mocha_latte (baberoe, au, 23.4k, T)
the likes of me abide by coveredinsun (winnix, canonverse, 10k, T)
there was also a winnix high school au i read not too long ago where dick was in band and nix was a jock but i can't find it rn! if i do i will reblog this with the link :)
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Woot, congrats on the milestone (here's to many other to be reached! 🧃)!! I like your writing so much, you deserve each follower you got <3
Now may I request a quote? Rex + "look what this love's done to me"
Remember to keep hydrated!
HELLO LOVELY ANON! Thank you SO MUCH *clinks juice box*. I am so STOKED you like my writing and am very grateful for YOU!
I hope you don't mind I got QUITE angsty on this one (and a teeny bit spicy). Thank you so much for the ask!
Pairing: Captain Rex x Reader
Rating: E (18+ MINORS SKEEDADDLE - PiV sex, ANGST SO MUCH ANGST)
You stare out the window, watching the steady glow of the speeder traffic flow by in the levels below. The cup of tea you’re holding went cold about ten minutes ago, but you’re still holding on to it tightly, as if there’s any more comforting warmth to be had. Your brow is furrowed in thought as you sigh in frustration.
He was supposed to be here by now.
You’d canceled your plans for the evening when he’d commed you to tell you he was coming in tonight. Your friends had groaned and given you shit, but ultimately, you’d stood your ground.
“You’re not as fun as you used to be.”
“You never come out any more.”
“I hope he’s worth it.”
You sip the cold bitter liquid, wrinkling your nose slightly.
Look what this love’s done to me.
You used to go out every night you could with friends or business colleagues, wining and dining and dancing the night away, but now it seemed you rarely left your apartment, waiting for him to call or hoping he’d have a few minutes to spare to grace you with his presence. He was a busy man, you understood that, but it didn’t make it any more frustrating to be at the mercy of the Grand Army of the Republic when you’d never signed up to put on a uniform.
Technically, he wasn’t given the option either.
The furrow between your brows softens slightly at that thought. He never asked you to wait of course, but you couldn’t waste a second of the precious time you had with him. Even the most fleeting moments where all he can do is kiss you before running to his next briefing makes your heart flutter. And the nights where he can actually give you all of his time, well those almost seem to make it all worth it.
Almost.
You love Rex, of that there’s no doubt. He’s the kindest, gentlest soul you’ve ever known, which seems ironic considering his success as a soldier. You’ve long suspected that’s why he seems to crave tender moments with you the most. Of course there are nights he takes you roughly in your bed, pounding into you while he growls filth into your ear. Those nights, it’s apparent he’s working through something, and you’re more than happy to be his outlet, letting him work it out of his system while you ride wave after wave of pleasure.
But it’s the nights where he gently pulls you into his lap, removing his gloves so he can feel your skin, the nights that he takes his time that you both love the most. Tears leap into your eyes at the memory of the night he came back from the Umbara campaign. You’d heard rumblings in the news holos, giving just enough detail to let you know it was horrific without telling you anything at all. You hadn’t left your room that night, waiting until the early hours of the morning when your comm finally pinged. His voice had sounded so tired.
“I-I’m sorry if I woke you. Would it be alright if I came over when we land?”
He’d come in, stripping his armor and stacking it wordlessly before bringing you to your bedroom, laying down in bed with you and just holding you closely. He’d fallen asleep with his head on your chest, lulled by the beat of your heart as you gently rubbed his head. His fingers were holding you so tightly, as if you might disappear.
You hadn’t left your apartment for two days, calling off for work. You were fairly certain the meeting you’d missed had cost you a promotion, but you’d never tell him that. You were certain he’d tell you it wasn’t worth it, that he wasn’t worth it.
But is he right? Is it worth it? Worth giving up the life I once had? Worrying about him constantly? Wondering if he’ll survive this war?
It had only been a few months. Perhaps it was time to call it off, save both of you the heart break of getting in too deep only to realize it wasn’t what you wanted.
You had a future planned. If you keep going, it’s going to disappear. And then what?
You’d asked him last time he was on Coruscant what sort of future he imagined. His gaze had grown distant as he played with your hair absently.
“Don’t know. Never really thought much about it.”
Your heart had fallen slightly, and he must have noticed. He glanced down at you with those eyes that were so piercing and yet so warm at the same time. His thumb brushed your cheek as he cradled your face.
“But I hope that we get to find out together.”
Look what this love’s done to me. Putting all of my chips on a future that may not exist.
Your life had been a series of carefully planned endeavors, most of which were executed flawlessly. You always knew what you were having for dinner before you met Rex, always knew what your schedule looked like for the week. You stayed late at work, always going the extra mile. And now, here you were, plans canceled yet again in the hope that he might materialize in your doorway.
“I hope he’s worth it.”
You sigh pressing your forehead against the cool transparisteel of your window. Is this a future worth pursuing?
Why do you always do this to yourself with him?
The answer was so simple when you thought about it.
You love him. More than you’ve ever loved another person in your life.
Memories of waking next to him flood your mind. The way his eyes open slowly, and you can tell he’s gotten the best sleep he’s had in a while. The warmth that blooms in your chest when he reaches for you in his sleep, pulling you against his chest. The way the corners of his eyes pinch when he laughs. The protectiveness he feels for his brothers. The way he pulls you close to dance in the kitchen, humming quietly in your ear as you stir whatever meal you’re making for him. No matter what you cook, it’s always the best thing he’s ever tasted. The way he whispers in your ear how much you mean to him as he thrusts into you at night, assuring you that he’ll never love another the way he loves you. Your face flushes with heat.
The door of your apartment beeps before hissing open, and you’re jerked from your thoughts as you whirl to see that familiar silhouette standing there. He pulls his helmet off, and despite the bags under his eyes and the hunch of his shoulders, he musters a smile that makes you melt.
“Hey there, beautiful,” he rasps.
“I hope he’s worth it.”
Your vision blurs with tears as your friend’s words echo in your mind once more, and a realization settles into place.
He always will be. Whatever the future holds, I want him in it. And we’ll figure it out together.
You move to him, wrapping your arms around his neck and pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. His helmet falls to the floor with a clunk as his hands come to rest on your hips, pulling you against him. He smells like sweat and blaster smoke, and the feel of his mouth against yours is intoxicating in the best way. You shudder in his grasp.
“Everything alright?” he asks, despite looking dead on his feet.
You cradle his face, pressing your forehead to his as you huff out a laugh.
“Never better.”
Thanks for participating in my 400 Follower Celebration!
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#karrde writes#Karrde's 400#400 follower celebration#star wars#the clone wars#tcw#captain rex#captain rex x reader#captain rex x you#nsft#lemon#lemony lemon#ANGST#but also fluff#I LOVE HIM YOUR HONOR
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Homesick
Anonymous asked: Hello, I’m the same anon that ask you if you write for “Fyodor Dostoevsky”. Since you say so, may I request a one-shot for him, with female reader. So, the story was about reader who’s trying her best to cook some Russian food, let’s just that Fyodor told her that he misses his hometown, and then she’s tried to cure his homesick by cooking some Russian food (preferably dessert). The genre is Fluff, with a little comedy if you can. Take your time and Thank you.
Hi anon! Thank you for sending this request and thank you for waiting :) I hope you enjoy! The dessert I chose is called Kartoshka and it looks sooo good! I'm going to try to make it soon. Requests are open but I will get to them slowly
Italics shows the past
Fyodor Dostoevsky x Reader [Established Relationship/Fluff and Comedy]
Warnings: nicknames, kiss
Word Count: 1.9k
As you watched Fyodor walk out the back door of the apartment, you slowly sighed and started planning on how to surprise him.
It was something you’ve been thinking about for a few days now, after Fyodor murmured to you on a late night, that he had a dull ache in his chest whenever he thought of home.
You remember how you reached out to cup his face, not to comfort him because he was vulnerable, but to show you understood the feeling. He almost hesitated to completely rest his head into your palm, but he did so after a few seconds of silence. You gazed to his face, looking for an expression and you found silent peace.
“Would you ever go back?” You whispered after a minute, feeling him shift as he interpreted your question. Then he gave you a slight grin and he glanced away to the ceiling.
“Perhaps, when punishment is served, and all is just.” You heard that familiar tone in his voice, the confidence and skill, and you nodded back to him. You felt as though you became the vulnerable one in the conversation as he skillfully transitioned the conversation to why the world must be cleansed of all sins. That was the type of conversation he would start with anyone, but you knew he genuinely wanted to achieve this, and it was his passion.
Homesickness is not one to be cured with medicines and Fyodor did not want to be sympathized for his feelings he shared with you.
Maybe he didn’t mean to slip that out, but you weren’t sure. He was the type of person to disguise himself behind layers of secrets and sometimes he would slip if he let his guard down when he relaxed. You wished he’d tell you all his feelings, but you had a feeling that wouldn’t happen for a long time because of how he views trust and loyalty.
So, you decided maybe just simply reminding him of home with a Russian dessert would be best to let him know you were always there for him, no matter how alone he felt because of his view of the world.
You chose a recipe after scrolling through pages on the internet, thinking this would be a good choice. Kartoshka, or also known as a potato in the Russian language. It wasn’t a fancy dessert, but it was one that can be made later on in the day, using scraps of leftover pastries or cakes and crumbs of bread – but you used some biscuits you bought from the market a few days ago.
The rest of the ingredients called for condensed milk, butter, cocoa powder, and toasted nuts. You only dusted a few toasted nuts, separating it from the ones without nuts, in case you got the wrong recipe.
You melted the butter in a pan first, then continued to use a rolling pin to smash biscuits into small pieces and crumbs, along with a separate container for the nuts. You mixed the crumbs with the prepared cocoa powder and almost gasped in delight from the smell of the mixture.
It was a delicious smell, one that made you want to dip your finger into the mixture and taste, but you held back. Once the mixture seemed to mold into a dough feel, you set it aside for a few minutes to go check what time it was.
It was nearing the time Fyodor would stop by and you bit your lip in concern, hoping you finished them on time. Sometimes he came to visit you for a brunch or even some tea and discuss some news he read in the newspaper that morning, but sometimes he didn’t.
You almost laughed when you remembered the first time he didn’t stop by.
He warned you that you might not see him for a few days or up to a few weeks in case any of his plans went awry but he made sure not to involve you or give you so many details of his plans in case you were somehow discovered by those he challenged. You were extremely worried when he said that, and you tugged him real close by slipping your hand to his shirt’s collar and pulling him to you.
His eyes widened only slightly before he settled into a calm grin, glancing down to your hand slightly touching his neck. He seemed amused but made no comment to your actions.
“You will come back! You better… Or no more jasmine tea for you. And do not get hurt!” Your worry for him only made him grin slightly more and he shook his head at your words.
“Is that supposed to be a punishment?” He barely responded, leaning in and you let go of his collar.
“Yes! I mean it…” And then you sort of tumbled over your words, realizing that if he didn’t come back at all, there would be no tea for him, jasmine or not and then you huffed out a sigh and glanced to the side. He knew what you meant though and he stepped back with a swift nod, and he looked to your hand that held his collar.
“Only the hand of God guides my actions, not yours.”
You slammed the door after that, and he returned an hour earlier than normal with a new tea set for you.
Once you got back to the dough you made, you started to scoop some of it into your clean hands. You rolled all of the dough into small oval molded bits, and you grinned when you saw how the dessert actually did look similar to the shape of potatoes.
You placed them into the fridge delicately, making sure that all of them were in good condition. You waited for around ten minutes to let them cool slightly before you took them out of the fridge to finish it up.
You dusted and sieved the cocoa powder all around the balls of dough you made and made sure all of them were dusted completely on all areas. It got all over you as well, but you liked the smell, so you didn’t care as much.
Each of them looked great! You smiled down to them and hoped that it tasted good, but still you waited for him to return because you wanted to see if he’d like it or not.
Maybe it would remind him of home.
You had accidentally dozed off when you sat down in a cozy chair in the living room, still covered in cocoa powder from making the dessert.
When Fyodor returned home, it was a little later than usual. He opened the door and stepped inside before seeing you in the corner, still fast asleep. He paused when he analyzed your features, realizing there was something all over you.
He furrowed his eyebrows, wondering what it could be as he slowly and hesitantly took another step inside, closing the door but keeping it unlocked. He was only being overcautious and eyed the rest of the living room and entry way before determining that there was nothing off, except for whatever was coated on you.
Still being wary, he made his way to you and stopped before poking at your forehead, collecting some of the dust that was on you. He brought his finger back up to his eyes, trying to see what it could be before he sniffed and realized it was cocoa powder.
You woke up instantly from the poke, gasping in surprise when Fyodor leaned down face-to-face with you, his eyes wide with curiosity.
“Cocoa? For what?” He questioned you and you yawned and blinked tiredly a few times, shaking your head at him.
“No hello? No, how are you doing, my honey?” You joked, tiredness in your voice and he pressed his lips down into a line.
“Hello. How are you doing, my… honey?” He visibly cringed at the use of the term of endearment, and you started to chuckle, covering your laughs with a hand to your mouth. He tugged your hand away and grinned at your laugh, feeling relieved that you were okay and that he didn’t need to feel worried like he did when he stepped inside.
“I’m doing fabulous, sugarplum. How are you?” You giggled as you said “sugarplum” and he rolled his eyes only slightly at it, not amused with using those two terms of endearment. He preferred other kinds of nicknames.
He ignored your question, “Why is there powder on you? Did the cocoa powder fall on you in the pantry?” You scrunched your nose up at the second question, shaking your head. Some of the dust of the powder flew up in the air when you shook your head.
He sighed, leaning in closer and brushed one of your cheeks, getting rid of the powder on it. You relaxed slightly at his touch and then he leaned back too soon, walking towards the kitchen with curiosity.
You quickly jumped up to follow him with a loud “Wait!”, he ignored your call and then paused when he walked into the kitchen, seeing the dish on the counter with the dessert. He instantly knew what they were, and a warm feeling spread throughout him.
He used to eat these as a little kid, sneaking into some bakeries and kitchens to find some food and treats. He remembered how refreshing it felt to bite into the cool bits of dough, dusted with the cocoa powder and how it coated his lips and cheeks whenever he finished one of the dough balls.
“Kartoshka?” It came out as a mumble and then he turned around when you bumped into him, since you rushed after him.
You nodded to him, opening your mouth to respond but you quickly closed it, hoping it would be okay. Silent was best sometimes. He walked over to the dish, and you gazed to his face, seeing a small smile form once he picked up one of the dough balls.
He tore it in half and quickly walked back to you, an excited smile captured on his face. He gave you one half and bit into the other with a satisfied hum. You bit the half he gave you, smiling and laughing when you saw the cocoa powder smeared on his lips.
Once you were finished eating it, you quickly grabbed onto his hand to stop him from reaching for another. There was a silent question in his eyes but the moment you leaned up and wrapped one arm around his back, his smile turned softer, and he leaned down to kiss you.
The kiss was a one-of-a-kind type of kiss, the one you think about years later. He could feel that warmth in his chest spread everywhere as you kissed him with a soft need, just as he did with you. It was one short kiss at first, but it continued into a fully passionate one as he pressed you back against the counter, going from kissing you to licking some of the cocoa powder off the area around your lips.
You two slowly pulled apart from each other and you breathed in deeply. He was looking back to the dish, lips slightly red and puffy and somehow, he still had some cocoa powder pressed up on his chin and you chuckled silently.
The look in his eyes made you know how he was feeling. Nostalgia and some happiness.
You ran your hand up and down his arm for a moment before you pulled away and walked back to the living room. You sat back down and smiled, hoping that he knows that it’s possible to bring along memories of his hometown here.
Thank you for requesting anon :)
#fyodor x reader#fyodor dostoevsky#fyodor dostoyevsky x reader#bungo stray dogs#bungo stray dogs x reader#bungo stray dogs x you
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Do you think you'll ever return here soupman? I don't mean like returning to writing stuff like this, just, returning to this blog? Maybe reclaiming it as a soup-based blog? Or will you leave it forever? As much as I love archival stuff (I have a bad memory so preserving things as they are helps me remember), I think I'll miss you. Not your writings, you. So yeah, will you ever come back?
Longer post below the cut (very, very, long. you've been warned), but here's the TLDR: Right now, I can't say whether or not i'm going to do anything more with this blog or leave it as is.
This blog has too many attachments for me to abandon it entirely, but I don't really know what people would like to see me do next, and I am very, very confused by people's responses to me leaving. If you want more detail and context, keep reading.
I really wish I had a solid answer for you, anon. I find myself a little confused, to be honest. I've always tried to pull myself off of rambling and ranting in posts and tags, because I assumed people were 100% here for my TSP content and nothing else. I often try not to do commentary in the posts, and put it in brackets so people recognize it and skip over it if they'd like. But more and more people are showing that they care about the person behind the posts? and I????
In the grand scheme of things, I always assumed I was just some guy who liked TSP a little too much. Good lord, I ramble about the narrator so much sometimes. For goodness sake, I commissioned the VA for some work, which even though it's been a few months, still gets me giggly and blushy when I think about it. Who does that? Who am I, in all of this?
But you didn't come here for my confusion, you came for an answer to a fair question. Truth is, I don't know yet. On one hand, it seems a bit silly to say, "never will i ever return to this blog or TSP, good day." because- life changes. circumstances change. The narrator has changed due to the events of ultra deluxe, and writing for him has changed me as well. On the other, I genuinely don't know what content people would want to see. There's another anon in my inbox who's message I've been staring at all day, where they also asked what will happen to me and whether or not I'd give occasional updates, because they often wonder if the people are alright when their blogs go silent. This is very sweet! I don't want the person who asked that to be embarrassed. But I'm honestly very confused that I'm cared about, outside the context of what I do. I don't understand it at all, to be honest.
I'll let you in on a little secret, for those of you who have read this far. If it weren't for college, I'd keep going. Forever, if I could. If things went my way, the narrator and I would spend all day together, drafting and redrafting, laughing and enjoying each other's company. Because I recognize he's a fictional character, but- at the same time, he also lives in my head. Not as part of a system, I don't have DID, but I carry a lot of fictional characters with me because that's how I coped with growing up the way I did. It was bad business. Those who read the tags carefully might know that I ran away from home a few years ago. My characters helped me stay afloat in what would have otherwise been an impossible situation. I am very, very attached to them.
But I need this degree. Things are complicated on my end. The only guarantee I have for housing involves a deal I made with certain people to pursue a higher education. I can't take my time with it any longer, I have to push forward as a full time student in order to receive what I need. If I don't do what I'm told, I'm at risk for homelessness. Before this, I had been going to community college for four years, taking my time and making excuses. My hubris has caught up with me, and now I've got to go at full speed.
I am not letting these characters go, they're being pried from my fingers along with my free time. I am working on accepting this, on saying goodbye. It's difficult. The grief is overwhelming, but, and here's a funny thing:
A game about free will and the lack thereof, about stanley who is a puppet of the player, and the narrator, who doesn't have much choice either.
Me, a writer, a lover of this game, living a life that's out of my control, and not having options. A predetermined path stretches out ahead, and I walk it.
Familiar story, huh?
I will not be able to handle both this blog and a full course load. A few people have asked me to keep going, to do both. They do not know me as well as I know myself.
On top of that, writing for other people is kind of... stressful. I've always been a 'ride or die' style artist, pushing and straining myself. The way in which I work is not healthy for me. To have that attitude towards school and my hobbies would probably destroy me. I love the prompts people send in, I don't want them to feel bad about it. However, my attitude and approach needs some work. Which is why the blog has an end date, just under a week before classes start.
It sucks. I have no desire to give up what I'm doing, but it's responsible and it makes sense. I think of the narrator near the end of the 'not stanley' ending, and my heart breaks a little.
"I don't know... What's the answer? What do I do? What do I do? What do I- No I have to. I have to shut the game down. I have to. I have to."
Doing the right thing is always hard. I have a few regrets. I regret not starting this blog sooner. I regret what I'll be leaving behind. I regret the choices I've made that have made other choices unavoidable.
But I do not regret my time here. I do not regret the 60k+ (and counting!) words that I've written. I do not regret filling my time with joy. I do not regret the friends I've made thanks to this community.
And thanks to this community, it's been the best summer of my life.
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Hey!! I hope your exams are going ok/went well? I saw you mentioned them in a previous response to someone?!
I hope you don't mind me asking, but I'm craving some fluff for Takado, and I love your writing, so I thought you were the person to ask!
I've been imagining something along the lines of the two being really good friends, and it's obvious to everyone that they're smitten. Maybe MC starts talking about Takado like she does Sekai, and he suddenly realises she feels the same?
Honestly, I really don't mind what you decide, and please don't feel any pressure to write anything!
Hey, Anon! Is this one of the cutest asks I have received? Definitely! Thank you for this idea. And thank you for asking about my exams. They went better than I had thought in the beginning. Now I'm finally home and have time to relax. I hope I'll write more these days. So, wait for me. Also, enjoy! ❤️
Friends to lovers (Munechika Takado x MC) (Scenario)
Summary: Matsunaga and Kasumi had high expectation from the smart student that became EICU's new "acquisition". However, no one expected for her to click so good with their tyrant of a colleague - Dr. Munechika Takado.
Words counting: 1713
"It is obvious," Ekuni wrote on his board and immediately closed his eyes. However, even Kasumi, the furthest away from him, noticed that the anesthesiologist didn't fall asleep and listened to everything the other EICU members were saying. Ekuni was smart enough to know that after his statement, everyone would be interested in a continuation. So, a minute later, he was on his butt, stretching and yawning. "Have you never seen Takado be overprotective of MC every time she sleeps?"
Matsunaga looked at the three doctors who were listening to Ekuni. He was the only one who didn't share an office with them, so there was no way he would witness anything like this. Sen avoided his boss' boss eyes. Kasumi, on the other hand, looked deep into his thoughts.
"I do reckon seeing something like this, yes," the cardiologist started while rubbing his chin. "Takado once hushed me when MC slept with her head on her textbooks."
Sen's brows frowned, and Hosho's jaw was on the floor, knowing better than anyone that no one in their entire team was as afraid of Kasumi as Takado. Ekuni forgot about sleep due to Kasumi's words that exceeded all his expectations.
"I was talking about Takado searching for a blanket in the entire office the first time MC fell asleep on the couch, but this is good too, I think," Ekuni explained.
"And do you think that Takado searching for a blanket is proof strong enough to make you suspect his feelings for MC?" Hosho entered the conversation.
"It's Takado we are talking about. If any other resident fell asleep here, he would have thrown them outside the window," Sen's irritated voice reverberated through the room.
"You've got a point," Ekuni wrote again on his board. He wanted to go back to sleep, but Hosho's words picked up his interest.
"Do you remember our morning meeting from the last month?"
All of them knew what the neurosurgeon was about to say. It had happened a few weeks ago but was vivid in everyone's memories as if it was yesterday. Kasumi explained the schedule to everyone, and, as ever, Takado took more than half of the sofa. MC, who was a little bit late, didn't have space where to sit. Instead of taking a chair, she planted herself on the floor between Takado's legs. Kasumi stopped talking when he saw her like this. However, the most surprised was the orthopedist, who asked for explanations by pushing MC's back with his knee. The girl's brows raised, surprised by her preceptor's rudeness. Instead of saying anything, she just showed him her tongue and moved her eyes to Kasumi, waiting for him to continue. Despite Takado's initial shock, he didn't stop his resident from leaning on one of his knees. Moreover, after the meeting finished, Takado let his upper body fall in front and put his arms on MC's head, trapping her between his legs. Poor girl had to bite him to get out.
"Even then, I thought MC was just giving him a lesson about manspreading," Hosho explained.
"That means you are dumb, not that there's nothing between them," Sen mumbled.
"Facepalm" appeared on Ekuni's board.
"But I get why Hosho has never thought of them being a couple or having feelings for each other," Kasumi started, looking far away. "Do you remember Takado being touchy or overly open about his past relationships?"
This question was enough for everyone to shut up for a while. Even Sen had to bite his tongue in regret for being rude to Hosho. Takado liked girly girls with cute behavior. Even if he tried his best to "seduce" those with whom he went on dates, none of the doctors remember him being overly excited and open about his relationships. There was no way he would be so careless to act like that with his girlfriend in front of them.
"I know what you are talking about, but I still think that Takado wouldn't share his food with anyone not special to him."
Now, the EICU team looked at Matsunaga. If their boss' boss saw hints of Takado and MC's relationship, that meant something.
"I once ate with Takado and MC during lunch."
What the Dean was talking about had happened around two months ago, even before the thing at the meeting. Takado and MC waited in line for lunch while talking about shoulder fractures that interested muscles. They were too concentrated on their talk to see Matsunara next to them. So the Dean could hear their command.
"What will you take? I can't decide between the second and the third menu," Takado asked while licking his lips in expectation.
"Why don't you take one and I take the other, then we share it?"
And, from Matsunaga's words, both ended up liking both menus. Not caring that there were people around them, they gave each other half of their portions, stealing from each other plates from time to time, just for annoying purposes.
After the Dean ended his story, the EICU team needed a few moments to digest the information. Was it really about their Takado? It was true that MC clicked with her preceptor from the first moments. She was hard-working and dedicated, but unlike Takado, she knew what "friendliness" meant. But being so close wasn't what people expected when they decided to make MC Takado's student.
"You may be right, but it was months ago. What is happening between them lately isn't just friendliness," Sen finally showed his cards.
Sen rolled his eyes when he saw everyone looking at him. However, he couldn't hide the grin on his face in time for others not to see it. The pediatrician faked a cough to mask his laugh and started explaining his point.
"I think MC's obsession with Sekai is her problem, but she is annoying when she fawns over me for having a voice similar to his. However, lately, she has forgotten about me. Instead, I have heard her mumbling under her nose about how pleasant is Takado's voice."
A wave of "wow" hit the youngest doctor on the team. He let aside the fact that MC asked him what he thought about the orthopedist's deep and husky voice. The damage he had done was enough to prove his point. So, others would have to spy on MC to get more information.
"I see your points and understand why some of you think they are good friends while others question their relationship. However, I also have seen something that makes me think there can be more between them," Kasumi decided to publicize his information. After a deep breath, the cardiologist continued: "On Matsudo Rina's death anniversary, I saw Takado going to the roof and followed him because I was worried. But I saw MC hugging him tightly from behind. And he didn't push her away. Moreover, when they had a kid abandoned by their parents as a patient, I heard MC saying that she knew how it felt, and Takado promised never to abandon her."
This time, no one commented. It wasn't a simple or funny matter. It was something that friends, lovers, and family members do for those they care about. Something that the entire EICU craved. So, when MC and Takado entered the office, they saw their colleagues sitting silently in a circle.
"What are you doing here? Planning how to conquer the world?" MC started.
"Nah, they plan how to get rid of us. Otherwise, why aren't we invited?" Takado explained while chuckling.
However, their jokes weren't funny to their friends. Instead, they were met with frowned brows and concentrated looks. Takado and MC gulped, waiting for the bomb to drop.
"Are you dating?" Kasumi finally said what was on everyone's minds.
Takado looked at MC, who had her shoulder touching his. He didn't mind her proximity. However, after Kasumi's words, it felt like burning, and he jumped away from her. Both orthopedists blushed hard and avoided looking at someone else.
"No," they whispered simultaneously.
"Yet," Hosho stated and started chuckling. Thanks to his words, Takado and MC looked at each other. They were supposed to come to EICU headquarters after their things and go home together. Now, their ride was doomed.
Ten minutes after, a tomato Takado stopped in front of MC and unlocked the door of his car. Without saying a word, the girl hopped in. The entire ride, none of them said a single word. However, from time to time, they stole glances at each other, trying to understand what the other thought about what had happened earlier.
"Can we talk about this?" Takado said after stopping his car in front of MC's apartment. The girl nodded, waiting for him to continue. It took the man minutes to get his thoughts in order. So, the pair of friends stayed in silence the whole time, hoping their hearts were pounding deafening only in their ears. "I see you as a friend. I do. But lately..." Takado took a deep breath and swallowed, "lately, when I look at you, I think I'd like to kiss you. And I don't think that's what friends do."
Suddenly, the roof of his car became more entertaining than anything else. The orthopedist could swear that everything above him was so foreign as if someone else had chosen the car and had driven it for years.
"Then do it," MC whispered so softly that Takado nearly missed it due to his nosy brain.
Slowly, Takado's eyes left the roof and found their way to MC's face. His hand, however, was faster, finding its place on the girl's fingers. The man leaned towards MC and pressed his forehead against hers.
"Are you sure?"
MC whispered a "Yes," the last letter of the word being swallowed by Takado's lips. Both of them slid closer to each other. Takado's other hand cupped MC's cheek. None of their hearts stopped deafening their ears. Yet, the wrinkles in between their brows disappeared. It wasn't a long kiss, and they didn't kiss till being breathless. But, they both were, due to the feelings exploding in their chests.
"I think I want to do it forever," Takado whispered against MC's lips.
"Then do it," MC repeated with a small smile.
#romance md: always on call#romance md#munechika takado#takado munechika (35) orthopedic surgeon#voltage inc#asks
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7. Underrated Character
12. What makes this Fandom different in a positive way compared to other fandoms
4. screenshot or description of the worst take you've seen on tumblr
9.part of canon you think is overhyped
14. Dumbest reason for fandom drama
19. Has anyone ever gotten mad over how you've portrayed an character or over a headcanon or something?
Best of Times, Worst of Times
7. Underrated Character
Cuba. He's got such a unique character design amongst the cast being our only canon plus size character that I'm aware of and also being on the hairier side, and there is so much more to his character, more than what the anime portrays.
I rambled about him in another ask, but just, he's such a cool guy. Like fun uncle vibes. And he probably gives some of the best hugs. And I need him being more chivalrous like the wiki says. One day I'm going to write Matt swooning over how much of a gentleman he can be. I think he can be so fun, I just wish I saw him more.
And I need more of his bromance with Matt in canon!
12. What makes this Fandom different in a positive way compared to other fandoms
I don't have much experience in other fandoms, but from what I've seen, the fandom tends to be very loose with canon. We are all really pick and choose what we want from canon and ignore the rest. And sure other fandoms do this sometimes, but with Hetalia it feels like it's a whole other level and really make these characters our own.
4. screenshot or description of the worst take you've seen on tumblr
Gosh....I remember seeing some terrible takes, but I've wiped them from my memory. Sorry...
9.part of canon you think is overhyped
Buon San Valentino. That's more because it's THE Ger//ita chapter and everyone knows my feelings on Ger//Ita. But it still has something for me with Ludwig being a gay disaster. But it's the closest I get to feeling something is overhyped.
14. Dumbest reason for fandom drama
Claiming that a ship is canon seriously and attacking others that see things differently. Because 1) Even if your headcanon/ship was canon, this is the Hetalia fandom, canon is a mere suggestion or bouncing off point. 2) No ship is canon anyway.
I don't see this as much anymore, though there is a similar problem with claiming headcanons are canon and people attacking each other over that which is also dumb. But going back to the ship thing, I've talk to some people who got attacked for shipping Germany with someone other than Italy in the past. Luckily I never got that and I'm actually good friends with a lot of Ger//Ita shippers so things seemed to have calmed down on that front. At least on Tumblr.
19. Has anyone ever gotten mad over how you've portrayed an character or over a headcanon or something?
Omg yes. A year or two ago, there was that anon going around to peoples, specifically fruk fic writers bitching about how we portrayed Arthur, how Arthur deserved better than Francis, blah blah blah. The circles I was in nicknamed them "The Arthur Anon" (though I think there was at least two, because I blocked one and still got another anon with similar complaints).
There were a few times these kinds of anons complained about my fics but one I remember vividly was for a Fruk Week fic. It was a story where some of Arthur's fairy friends meddle in his love life and try to get him and Francis together. And they came bitching that the fairies are terrible people, that Arthur shouldn't have been happy that they invaded his privacy or something. And I'm sitting there like 1) They're fairies, they don't have human morals and would do something like that 2) It actually turned out alright so Arthur is kind of thankful because he would have never finally confessed to Francis without the fairies' plans.
That ask actually really affected me at the time, I even changed some of my fic. But now I just laugh at that anon because they were so petty and bitchy.
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Your gifs yesterday made me think about season 3 and i love that season as much as I have problems with it because of Ethan. But i think forever my biggest problem was and will be is that nobody ever found out what Mikey said to Brian at Mel and Lids’ party where he got punched. I remember first time I watched it a few years ago I kept hoping Debbie would find out but nope. Ugh, but anyway, your gifs are waking up the sleeping beast inside me again and i love it.
Hey anon!
Yeah qaf and not following up on plot points is a issue within the show in general. I agree not having one single soul wondering what on earth could have made Brian punch his best friend since childhood was very unrealistic.
Sure they've gotten into verbal arguments before but Brian is not a violent person and has never put his hands on anyone so they must have known it would have to be something major to make him lose it like that.
I did not appreciate Debbie automatically assuming that it was Brian's fault the next day when Michael has a black eye and calling him out in the diner. Alongside the long standing problem with the group always thinking the worst of Brian and writing off all the growth they have seen him go through and Debbie saying it's not surprising that Justin left Brian when he never showed him he loved him. Even though she was the one in S2 who got him to silently admit that he did and she told Michael but now they've broken up it's all his fault and he doesn't know how to love anyone. Wtf get out of here with that shit!
I've slowly been watching bits of the Ethan storyline but he's so cringe that I can only handle snippets at a time. But interestingly I had forgotten they gave Ethan a backstory that his ex was basically a Brian type of guy in that he would go to clubs, fuck around as a way to connect with Justin and Ethan didn't want that type of lifestyle and wanted monogamy.
So to then have him instantly cheat after one day is hilarious and the cheating plot was weak writing anyway. Ethan was insufferable enough without it and he and Justin had other cracks in the relationship that would have ultimately broken them up.
I'm glad my gifs are doing their job and it's nice to see more and more qaf fans popping up in my asks and notes compared to before :)
#britin#queer as folk#soph asks#why justin was ever attracted him i don't know#he's such a pretentious snob and his jealousy over brian is embarrassing
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