#the old man gives me heart palpitations | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

m00nchildthings · 7 months

Text

ALUCARD X PREGNANT!READER

This story was based off of this one right here: https://www.tumblr.com/m00nchildthings/703854020457021440/mating-press-and-breeding-kink-with-alucard

if anything this can be read as a sequel where he managed to get you knocked up cw for pregnant reader, oral sex one sparing use of the reader being called mama, and alucard being a hovering creep towards you for carrying his child also slight pregnancy kink if you squint not even read over once bone apple teeth🧑‍🍳😙🤌

p.s. @yazzzmints @ch3rryistheg you asked and i delivered

“You’re hovering Adrian”.

“I do not hover,”

You sighed, closing the large ornate tome you had been reading and setting it on the small wooden table beside your chair. He was hovering and whether he was oblivious to it or simply choosing to be obtuse, he was doing it a hell of a lot more recently. You knew why though, you thought as you brought your hand over your swollen stomach. Seven months into your pregnancy and through every step Alucard had treated you and your unborn child like fine china perpetually teetering over a precocious edge.

“You are aware we won’t turn to ash the moment we leave your vision,” you said cheekily staring up at your dhampir lover. His eyes narrowed before he swept past you, moving to sit in the armchair beside your own. He sat there, for a moment beautiful like marble with his eyes closed, before turning to face you.

“I am very well aware of that,” he said, placing his chin in his hand as he peered at you. You hummed, turning away from him, instead choosing to focus on the crackling fireplace in front of you, pretending the warm embers floating around the wood were far more interesting than the golden haired man sitting next to you.

“Then I hope that you are also aware,” you began pausing to take a sip of the tea still hot on your side table “that fathers who hover around the pregnant wives are bound to produce children that do not enjoy their company,”

“That isn’t true,” you could see his brows furrow from your peripheral view, hiding your chuckle behind another sip of tea, you continued.

“It very well might be an old wives tale, but I have heard of children coming out fussy towards their fathers fresh out of the womb-,” you were cut off with a loud swoosh as Alucard gracefully stepped towards you settling down at his knees, hands placed on your stomach.

“You won’t dislike me right?” he directed at your stomach, brow even more wrinkled with worry “Surely they understand I am just so, eager, to meet them right darling?,”

He stared up at you now, golden eyes tense with worry, your lip wobbled as you held back your smile. Here before you on his knees was Alucard Tepes; one of the slayers of Dracula, the feared prince of the night that cut down his enemies like knives through butter- reduced to a simpering thing at the fear your child might come straight from you hating him. You relented not having the heart to tease him any longer you cradled his jaw in your hand.

“I was just teasing my love, surely our child will love you just as much as I,” immediately he relaxed, melting into the palm of your hand. His golden eyes cut up at you a small smirk tugging on his lips.

“You are cruel to do such a thing to your doting lover,” his alabaster hand gripped your wrist as he turned to lay a kiss in the fleshy part of your palm. “I treat you so sweetly and you insist on giving me heart palpitations.

“Consider it payback for what your hellspawn is doing to my body, I can barely make it from here to the door without my swollen ankles and aching spine objecting,” you said, bringing your hand away from him to stretch the intense cracking of your back emphasizing your point.

Alucard stood, staring down at you, he adored your changing body evidence of the growth of his child in you. You’d always been beautiful in his eyes, but something about knowing the swell of your stomach was from your baby growing inside of you, surely you were a goddess gifting him with the gifts of gifts. Bending down he looped his arms around your waist ignoring your grumbles of objection when he picked you up hoisting you into his arms until your knees hung over his elbows.

“Then allow me to be your legs,” you huffed rolling your eyes as Alucard toted you out of your rather comfortable reading room, you knew where he was taking you of course. The looming large ornate doors of your bedroom came into view as Alucard steadily carried you to them.

“Our bedroom,” you said flatly “I wonder what reason you could have for bringing me here Adrian,”

“I have no idea what you are implying deer,” he said, turning to press his back to the door, opening it with your combined weights. Barely holding back his impish grin (a look a great number of others refused to believe existed when you said he did so on the regular) he rushed you to your bed gently placing you on the downy mattress.

“Your feet must be killing you,” he said, gracefully moving to sit beside you and patting his lap. Begrudgingly you laid back against the comforter swinging your aching feet to his lap. He gently massaged your foot pressing his fingers into the soles of your feet soothing the pain that afflicted you. His talented hands seemed to pull all the aches from them knowing how to just work your body from months of repeated practice. A particularly forceful push into your left heel and you couldn’t hold back the moan that bubbled from your throat. Alucard smiled at you gently placing your feet on the bed beside him.

“See? So sweetly,” he said, placing his now free hand on your stomach.

“My body still aches,” you grumbled, still feeling the tension in your back

“I can help with that,”

“Your version of help is what got me into this predicament,” chuckling Alucard slowly spread your legs apart hiking your dress to just under your belly. There laid out before him nestled in a thatch of curls your cunt shined for him, already glistening with arousal. His slender fingers traced up the warm slit of your puffy lips noticing the audible hitch in your breaths

“If you don’t like my version of help then where are your undergarments,” he questioned, knuckles grazing up and down your quivering pussy

“They no longer -mmph- fit,” you moa, turning around to bury your head into the pillow.

“How lucky for me,” he murmured, just barely above a whisper as he sank down till his face was level with your heat “that my favorite snack is but a silk slip away from tongue,”

With one scathing breath his mouth was on you, pink lips pressing toward your own. His tongue wickedly lapped at you running wet circles around your throbbing clit before slipping its way into your clenching cunt. He couldn’t help the vibrating moans, near purrs that reverberated into you, as your juices flooded his taste buds. He couldn't help the way he ate at you ravaging your quim with every fiery stroke through your quivering lips. Your hands tugged at his golden locks pulling him closer and closer to your weeping cunt. How foolish, he thought as he drank up all you had to offer, why pull him close when you both know the last thought on his mind was pulling away?

Your orgasm crested, creeping up on you with each lascivious lick that toyed with your throbbing clit. It was with one particularly harsh suck that had you falling apart, melting apart like butter on warm toast your cunt creamed over your lover's tongue. Undeterred Alucard continued to viciously feast on your juices, moaning as they glossed his face. Clawed hands though gentle, held your hips in place as they began to buck so he could wrap his lips around your clit sucking on the shiny pearl undisturbed.

“A-Adrian please, s’too much I need-,” interrupting you Alucard sighed loudly, releasing your clit with an audible pop.

“You never let me have my fill,” he complained peering up at you over your swollen belly “but I know what you need,”

Rising Alucard reached for his trousers tugging the strings till his cock, heavy with a bead of precum pooling at the tip, fell free. Smiling and flashing those fangs of his wide he pulled your legs to wrap around his waist. Grabbing at his cock he lined the drooling pink head with your equally wet cunt, rubbing it between your lips and nudging at your clit. Gently he pushed inside of you, hissing as your heat slowly enveloped him till the hilt. The two of you rested there for a moment panting as your limbs tangled about each other. You whined under him, arms reaching towards him, hands making grabby motions for him. Alucard reached underneath you pulling you towards him. You both sat there, connected at your most intimate of places, your sweaty forehead resting on his cool one.

“Adrian,”

“Yes my love?”

“Fuck me.”

“Yes my love”

With a low chuffing noise, Alucard thrust up into you once, twice, three times, every one seeming to be deeper than the last. Your mouth hung agape as your lover continuously fucked up into you carving the shape of him deep into your cunt. Moans barely escaped you as every thrust seemed to steal your breath, your eyes stared into the golden ones of your lover unable to look away. Before you could process Alucard's hand gripped your ass holding you towards him as he stood on the bed, steadying his feet in the cushion and using his grip to lift you fast up and down his cock.

“Do you feel me sweet, deep, in here,” he rasped as he bounced you on his cock balls slapping on your ass. His hot breath fanned your face as he used your own weight to fuck you, one particular hard thrust had your eyes rolling back into your skull, and with a rush words escaped you.

“Fuck Adein yes! Fuck me please, I- oh god don’t stop!” you screamed nails clawing into the rolling muscles of his back.

“That’s it mama,” he hissed somehow managing to grip you closer, shifting to the balls of his feet he began to roll his hips up into you to match every bounce of your ass against his thighs “Take it, cum for me, let me feel your silk grip me,”

You don’t know whether it was his words that got you there so quickly or the orgasm he gave you prior, but with a barely audible cry you came walls gripping him tightly as you gushed around him. Alucard grit his teeth at the grip your cunt had him in, thrusting a few times before spilling inside you with a strangled cry. Alucard fell to his knees holding you close as you both bounced on the mattress. He pulled you off him holding back chuckles when you grumbled from the over sensitivity. Gently he laid you down before getting off the bed and leaving towards your bedroom bath chamber. He returned with a warm bowl of water and two warm cotton cloths.

Sitting beside you Alucard dipped the washcloth into the water wringing it before bringing it to your heaving body. Carefully he cleaned you off, wiping the spunk he left at your center. You groaned, pushing at his hands, still feeling far too sensitive. With a chuckle he dropped the now sullied rag once you were clean of him, reaching to prepare the second one he had brought and pressed the soothing cotton to your sweaty brow. Your eyes closed as you let your dhampir lover continue with his aftercare.

“Am I forgiven yet, for breeding you with my -what did you call our child- hellspawn?” he asked golden eyes trained onto your face. With a sigh you looked up at him already having forgotten the remark you had made earlier. A sly smirk tugged at your tired face.

“For the time being leonito,”

#ughhh i am so rusty writing smut #but alucards return had me feeling sentimental #alucard tepes x reader #alucard x reader #alucard smut #alucard tepes #adrian tepes x reader #adrian x reader #adrian tepes #castlevania smut

2K notes · View notes

esteljune · 5 months

Text

Some rambling about Carlo this time {P x reader and Carlo x reader sort of?} the boy gives me so much feeling as well

TW: blood and a good amount of cheesyness

Geppetto manages to obtain Pinocchio's heart, albeit against his will, and Carlo is reborn. Together they return to the hotel leaving Pinocchio in the abyss and there Carlo commits a massacre.

You don't immediately realize the gravity of what is happening. Sure, the Hotel has already been attacked once, but you blindly believe that P will come back to you, you are convinced that you are safe.

However, when you hear an abnormal commotion on the ground floor, your instinct tells you to run and see. But before you can reach the door someone opens it.

It seems to you that the creaking should go on forever, then you see someone enter. He carries the face of the person you love, but at the same time it is so distant from his that it makes your stomach crumple.

He remains still, dark eyes on yours. You recognize him immediately. Antonia had told you about him, about his brief and unhappy existence.

Only after a very long moment of silence can you compute his presence, his painfully familiar face smeared with blood.

The acrid stench fills the room, the noise of the dense drops falling from the mechanical fingers onto the precious marble breaks the silence.

-Carlo… What did you do? – you murmur breathlessly.

Your brain can't fully process the horror, you feel foggy, dizzy.

The boy smiles, silently. A grim smile, very far from the fragile and melancholic beauty of Pinocchio.

-What I was ordered. – He finally says with a shrug of the shoulders. The nonchalant tone breaks your heart.

-No… they are… - The words die in your throat. Saying them out loud would be too horrible.

Your dismay doesn't seem to disturb him at all, he studies you, motionless, for a very long time.

-He… loved you. More than his own life, in fact. Just looking at you gives me heart palpitations. That hassle. – He finally says between his teeth, putting a hand to his chest, annoyed.

Something shatters inside you, the roar is devastating, the impact so hard it makes you dizzy.

-Do you have his heart? – you manage to say dazedly.

The boy smiles again like a child who has just done a mischief.

Without thinking you approach Carlo throwing caution to the wind, you should be terrified but instead you just feel empty. You place your hand on his warm chest, under your fingers the boy's heart is pounding wildly and that's when the tears start to flow without you having given them permission.

The pain is so strong that it breaks your breath, you never imagined that end for the two of you.

-I love you. I just wanted to tell you. –

Carlo takes your fingers between his, squeezes until it almost hurts.

-He no longer exists. Come on, run. I won't tell the old man that I found you. – He smiles again carelessly, abruptly moving your hand aside.

Something deep in his eyes gives you shivers. You slowly walk away.

-It doesn't have to be this way. –

-But yes. I can't be anything other than this. Go away now. – he says with empty eyes, your life doesn't matter to him at all, you can feel it. There is nothing left of the one you love.

#pinocchio #carlo lies of p #carlo geppetto #carlo #p x reader #pinocchio x reader #carlo x reader #lies of p x reader #lies of p #lop #liesofp #my writing #lies of p pinocchio #lies of p headcanon #lies of p headcanons

179 notes · View notes

futureman · 3 months

Text

piece of me

pairing: younger!mike schmidt & baby!abby schmidt

summary: at 22 years old, mike is given custody of his infant sister after the loss of their parents. though he might not ever truly feel worthy of her, there's one thing he'll always be certain of—they belong together.

warnings: pre-fnaf movie au, inspired by the official movie novel, loss of parents, mentions of depression and anxiety, childhood trauma

word count: <1k

Mike never asked for this.

As his tiny sister reaches for him from her playpen, his first instinct is to wait for their mom to pick her up and give her the attention she needs. But their mom isn't here anymore. Neither is their dad.

It's just Mike and Abby now, and he has no idea what to do in a situation like this. The longer she makes grabby hands in his direction, the more upset she gets, but he feels like he can't move. He's frozen, riddled with guilt because he already knows he can't help her.

Mike isn't equipped for this. He's not ready for this.

Kids were never on the agenda, if there was ever an agenda to begin with. The horrible truth is that he can't be trusted with that kind of responsibility. He already proved that a long time ago. With Garret.

The thought alone is so painful, he pushes it to the back of his mind to preserve his own sanity. Right now, it's just another reminder of how much of a fuck-up he is. A failure of a big brother, destined to destroy yet another little life. And this time has the potential to be so much worse.

Abby's barely 11 months old, which means he actually has to raise her. Between long shifts at a dead-end job, he'll have to teach her how to walk and talk and read. Buy her diapers, her toys and clothes, her formula. She's not even old enough for solid food, for fuck's sake.

She needs her mom. Instead, she's stuck with him—her shitty older brother who's still glued to the couch, incompetent as ever. She's not crying at least, so it's not an emergency—yet. But her little button nose is starting to scrunch up, and that's never a good sign.

Another moment passes as they continue to watch each other, stuck at an impasse only Mike has the power to end, if only he could just fucking move. But before he can convince his limbs to cooperate, Abby's hands drop to the wooden slats of her pen like she's finally given up. Her bottom lip wobbles dangerously, and his chest seizes in panic.

Okay, now it's an emergency. Now, he has to do something. Tears well up in her eyes, and she hiccups around what he assumes is the first of many sobs to come. What is he supposed to do? How does he stop this? When no solution comes, he feels his palpitating heart break—for both of them.

Because Mike is lying to himself.

Deep down, he knows what she wants, but he's too scared of the consequences of giving in. Just pick her up. Just hold her. But he can't. He doesn't want her to get attached. It'll only make it that much harder when he inevitably lets her down and they take her away from him. Maybe they should. What kind of monster refuses to comfort a crying child?

From the outside looking in, he's sure his actions—or lack thereof—seem cruel. They'd never know his throat is starting to constrict or that his head is filled with so much white noise, it's impeding his capacity for logical thought, or any thought at all. He wishes he was a more capable man. A better man. But he's broken. From the outside or not, anyone can see that.

Except for Abby. What must she see when she looks at him? Babies, especially ones as perceptive as her, are supposed to be able to sense tumultuous emotions, so why doesn't that explain the way she's looking at him right now? Like he's familiar, like she knows he's family. Like he's her world.

Their eyes lock, and suddenly it's like he's looking in a mirror. The same brown irises and dark, curly hair. Their father's nose and their mother's smile. If he wanted to, he could see that smile again. It's been a long time since it graced his own face, but if he just picked her up. If he just held her.

An unexpected wave of clarity washes over him. This responsibility wasn't forced on him. He chose this, to care for her and provide her with a happier life than she would've had with their cold, money-hungry aunt.

He chose to raise her because regardless of how ill-equipped he is to be a parent, she deserves to be loved, and he will always be able to give her that. And when she reaches out her tiny hand again with hope in her tear-filled, brown eyes, he realizes she's choosing him, too.

Mike never asked for this. But as he lifts Abby into his arms and cradles her against his chest, he knows in his heart that this is where she's meant to be.

thanks for reading!

divider by @saradika-graphics

#mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt x you #mike schmidt #mike schmidt angst #mike schmidt imagine #fnaf imagine #fnaf movie #fnaf #five nights at freddy's #josh hutcherson x reader #josh hutcherson

123 notes · View notes

fhrlclln · 2 years

Note

Okay but phone sex with older!eddie like he knows you're trying to keep quiet because your parents are downstairs but he wants to hear you moan his name. He wants to hear the sounds your hole is making as your fingerings yourself to what he's saying to you.

older!mechanic! eddie x fem! reader + phone sex

another day, another slutting for older! eddie ;>

nsfw/smut under the cut

｡･:*˚:✧｡

“you okay there, sweetheart?” eddie’s static voice spoke through the brick phone you were holding against your ear. you sighed, bored out of your wits. ever since your parents came home from their vacation, the result of almost getting caught was taking a toll on you. eddie managed to look unfazed of what had almost happened the last few days, everything seemed fine but for you, the worst part is that you can’t see him. since your parents are mostly at home now, and now the only that you can get in contact with him is by phone most nights.

“i am.” you quietly responded, the background noise of your television filling in the silence of the room. lately, you felt needy. it had occurred to you how much you missed the man and his beard between your legs— especially his cock and maybe his presence overall. eddie seemed to notice your dull tone, he chuckled as he sat up from his bed, pushing his curtain to see your room with the lights dimmed. he smirked at that.

“bullshit.” he teased as you rolled your eyes at him. “tell me what’s bugging you, baby.” he softens his voice, a smile on his lips as eddie sat back on his bed, fishing out a joint from his drawer. lighting up with ease as he relaxed on his bed, shirtless and in his boxers. a little horny hearing your voice.

your heart started to palpitate, a warmth brushed along your cheeks, still a little shy to admit this. “it’s nothing…”

“c’mon, you acting all shy now? let me remind you i fucked you for—“

“eddie!” you scolded him, huffing a sigh. “alright, i-i miss you.”

“see? it wasn’t that hard. you miss my old ass?” he chuckles, low and timber that you love. it sounded so soothing against your ear, a little tingle between your legs.

“yes. very. my room’s cold without you.” you lowered your tone as well. eddie huff a smoke out, tilting his head back hearing your eagerness. your fingers danced around your shirt, waiting for him to speak.

“getting frisky, are we?” he hums, exhaling the weed out. feeling himself get into the high, a wonderful combination with the sound of your voice next to his ear. he could jack off to this. a heavy silence transpired, you hear his shaky exhale as your hand lowered to your crotch, tempting to slip your fingers in, yet held yourself back feeling shameful you’d get off with his voice.

“you needy, sweetheart? let me help you.” your eyes widened a bit, unexpected that he had read your mind. you stuttered as eddie laughed again. you were a little embarrassed at the prospect of having phone sex when your parents are literally in the living room.

“tell me what you’re wearing right now.” he starts, putting his phone in the crook of his neck, head tilting to the side to keep the phone in place as he shamefully put his hand inside of his boxers. “c’mon, sweets.” he urges.

you blushed, giving in. “wearing a shirt and panties.” eddie hummed against the phone as you continued. “the same panties you liked on me… white lace and a little pink bow on top of my crotch.”

“yeah?” he groaned, squeezing his cock. imaging it right now. he could taste the memory of cumming on those killer panties. he should’ve stoled those when he had the chance. next time.

“y-yeah.” you bit your lip, his voice like heaven to your ears. your fingers fiddled the hem of your panties as eddie shoved his boxers down. freeing his aching cock making him shudder, you could hear him, feeling yourself get wet knowing he’s about to jerk himself off. you waited, wanting him to urge you as you can hear him shuffle from the phone. your thighs rubbed against each other, knowingly glancing to your window, seeing his window there, imagining him in his bedroom, fucking his cock with his hand. god, you didn’t know if you were jealous by his hand or turned on. maybe both.

“touch yourself, sweets.” your breath stilled hearing the command, his voice dark and rich as it sent shivers up your spine. the room feeling a little hot now as you slipped your fingers underneath your damp panties, gasping as you touched your swollen wet clit. you circled your entrance, gathering your slick. finally rubbing yourself wet as you moaned. eddie groaned as he fists himself hearing your little breaths of air through his ear. “and let me hear those pretty moans.”

you obliged, following his every request and demand. he was now urging you to tell him what you’re doing to your cunt, and he’ll tell you what’s he’s sinfully doing as well in return. explicit details how hard his dick is for you. your forehead glistens with sweat, your brick phone is now pinched between your head and shoulder as your other hand fingered yourself, mimicking the way you remembered how he fucked his cock into you. eddie took in every moan, whimper, mewl and each breath you took, deliciously blasting through his ear as he jerked himself off. it was like porn but in audio form! way better than porn for sure, it was you.

“can you hear it, sweets? hear how much i missed you too?” he mutters, fisting his cock faster, the wet sounds coming from his precum and spit and his hand. you keened at it as you sped your fingers up faster, curling them in as you rubbed against that spongey spot that eddie knew to pound in repeatedly. your eyes fluttered closed, listening closely to his sounds, your shirt was ridden up, breasts peaking, nipples hard, remembering every detail how he first fucked you good.

“eddie.” you breathed out, his name on your tongue like wildfire to his heart.

“louder.” he groaned out. you whimpered, shaking your head as if he was here.

“m-my parents, eddie. they could hear—“

“i said louder.” his voice turned serious as you let out another moan for him, thankful that the fucking tv in your room was loud.

“e-eddie, please.” you groaned out, circling your clit rougher as your fingers sped up.

“that’s it, baby.” he groaned. “keep fucking yourself. put the phone near your pussy so i can hear it loud and fucking clear how much you missed me.”

“mhm, eddie.” you moaned out his name, making him let out a curse. you sat up, back leaning against your bedframe as you bended your knees up, fingers still in your cunt as you laid the brick phone in front of you. you quietly moaned out his name again, thrusting your two fingers up faster, the squelching noise of your hole and juices like music to his ears. he thrusted his hips up, bangs sticking on his forehead, the sound of cunt driving him wild as he jerked his cock harder, feeling his balls tighten. you could still hear him from your phone, focusing on the shuffling even though the tv was noisy.

“that’s it— shit, yeah, fuck— keep doing that, baby. be a good girl and cum. fuck—“ he threw his head back, the impact shaking the wall behind him. it kinda hurt but not nutting would be worser if he didn’t listen to your slutty mouth crying his name out like he’s a god.

“e-eddie, mr. munson. ‘m close!” you begged, using that title again. he always liked that cheeky mr.— even if it made him sound like a creep. it was hot coming from your mouth, who wouldn’t be turned on by that?

“fuck yourself faster, sweets. say my name again.” he urged and you nodded, letting it all out. you whimpered, gasping out, your fingers felt good but you missed his thick fat cock. you felt so empty without him. your belly tightened, your hips thrusted up to your fingers as you rubbed your bean faster, accommodating your rough fingering. eddie groaned out hearing the wet sounds your pussy was making, his ballsack throbbed as he rutted his up, imaging he was fucking your cunt up like he did last time.

your walls tighten around your fingers. “cumming—“

“fuck, yeah, cum—“ the distant sound of him from the phone done it all. you almost cried out— yet clamping your mouth shut as you came. eddie let out a long shameful moan you could hear muffled by the brick phone. his cum shot out, painting his stomach as he inhaled the air. you hummed, lazily grabbing your phone as you took off your panties and toss them away. you could heard the shuffling from the other line, you smiled.

“feeling better, baby?” eddie asked breathily as you snuggly laid back down on your bed. “you made me cum so hard.” he added as you giggled.

“i did. thank you, eddie.” you hummed, looking back at your window. “my panties are soaked.” you teasingly added, faking a pout, noting another groan from him. you laughed as eddie chuckled, loving the way you were better now. but there was just one missing piece that was missing for him as he whispered it you on the line.

“you think you could throw me those panties right now to me by the window, sweetheart?”

“eddie!”

｡･:*˚:✧｡

i need to write another getting dick down by older! eddie, gals.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson x fem! reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson smut #older!eddie #mechanic!eddie #joseph quinn #stranger things #stranger things season 4 #stranger things imagine #fnhrlcllnwrites #eri’s quick ideas 💡 ｡･:*˚:✧｡#eri’s request box 📦 ｡･:*˚:✧｡

1K notes · View notes

ovaryacted · 2 months

Note

retired chris and his grey streaks of hair and his silly glasses because old man cannot fucking read now and his strongs arms despite not working out as before and his old man habits and his— Capcom make him older I'm not afraid.

RUBYYYYYYY. Listen, when you first sent me this ask I quite literally had heart palpitations just thinking about it. God...I need old man Chris so bad I'm going to CRY.

Just imagine it, he's sitting on the couch now, wearing a soft green crewneck sweater that accentuates his soft chest and arms. He still has a similar physique to when he was younger, strong biceps, and a broad back that shifts whenever he moves. But the lack of activity in his retirement has certainly softened him out, all of that hard muscle now covered by a layer of fat that rubs against you whenever you're pressed into him.

You can only watch him as he reads the newspaper in his hand, glasses sitting on the tip of his nose while he contemplates the next entry in his crossword puzzle. The grey streaks in his hair started to come in two years ago when he was officially done with his job, and you half expected them to stop because he was no longer stressed. Yet they kept on coming, growing along the sides of his head first before reaching further back. You saw how his facial hair began to grey too, giving him a mature charm that warmed your heart and made desire pool in your gut every time you looked at him.

Coming behind him on the couch, you offered him a cup of tea, his head turning back to look at you with a soft smile. A kiss on your cheek was your silent thank you, matching his grin with your own as you glanced at his crossword puzzle.

"How's your little game going?", you ask him, watching him take a sip of the tea you made for him and humming at the taste. You always knew how to take care of him.

"Seems harder today, I can't figure out this missing word", Chris looks at the puzzle quizzically, squinting his eyes as if it will make him think harder.

It was cute, the way his nose scrunched up in an attempt to focus his eyesight a bit better on what was in front of him. You hover over his shoulder, instinctively having your hand come to the back of his neck and massage his skin. You rubbed against his nape, where the grey hairs were the most prominent, and you felt him groan out in relief at your touch.

"The answer is Fraiser honey", you answered for him, and as the gears turn in Chris' head to realize you were right, he chuckles.

"What would I do without you?", he says to you, smiling wide to where the sides of his eyes crinkled.

"You'd be struggling with your puzzle", you teased him, rolling your eyes at the kiss he offered you against your lips.

#ovaryacted asks #chris redfield #chris redfield x reader #chris redfield imagine #chris redfield fluff #resident evil #your honor I love him #capcom are cowards #PLEAKKKKK

105 notes · View notes

mccn-bcys · 5 months

Text

The Old Oak

pairing: jake lockley x gn!reader prompt: tree house summary: the old tree house in your backyard was the perfect place to make a friend, but will it be the perfect place to get him back? warning: jake comes with his own warning, but soft jake, light angst, hints at DID, hints at abuse, happy ending because I'm a sucker and jakey deserves it, brief mention of family member death. word count: 2.4 K author's note: this is my first entry for the MK Spring Bingo and I'm actually really happy with how it's turned out. soft jake is precious to me and i feel like everyone should get to experience it. anyways, this fic is actually super sweet so i hope you all enjoy!

You didn't want to be here. This place was full of people you didn't want to see or talk to, people you haven't seen in years, and people you see every year. Some people have nothing interesting going on in their lives so they tell the same stories to you every year.

The only reason you come is to please your mother. Ever since the death of your grandmother, who used to head the family function, your mother has taken over it, and every year she asks you to attend. Somehow it helps her nerves.

So you do your rounds, talking to various family members, updating them on the happenings in your life, hearing their updates on theirs, and talking about anything and nothing at all.

However, there's something about this reunion that's different. Your mother has been a little giddy, nagging you about how you look, asking you from time to time if everyone is here. It's odd, she's normally not so worried about such things. You wonder what could've gotten into her.

And then you see it. Or rather, him.

Jake Lockley.

"Mom, why is he here, he's not family," you whisper to your mother, pulling her aside.

"He's in town. I ran into him at the supermarket yesterday and told him to swing by. It's not like he's a stranger. He used to come to every reunion with you."

"Yeah, when we were kids. Mom, I haven't talked to him since high school," you try reasoning with her, wondering how she wasn't seeing what the issue was.

"I never understood that, anyways. Why did you two drift apart?"

Maybe because you had a raging crush on him in high school that couldn't face him afterwards? Or because he moved off without a warning or telling you where he was going or why?

"Because people drift apart sometimes," you answer quickly, glancing over at him where he seems to catch up with some old family members of yours.

This fucking guy. You can't believe him. The guy disappears for years after graduation and then shows up to your family reunion with no warning, acting like no time has passed.

"Well, maybe he wants to patch things up," she shrugs, laying out some more plates.

"Maybe he felt like he couldn't tell you no," you counter.

"Maybe you should go talk to him and find out."

"I can't just go over to him and-"

You're cut off by the sound of your own name. It's soft but you know the voice that said it. You can picture the way his mouth moves as it falls right off his tongue. Fuck.

You turn around and sure enough, there he is. Jake Lockley. The man that's been giving you heart palpitations since the ninth grade. How did he get prettier?

"Jake. Hi," is all you can manage to say.

"Hi," he smiles. "It's been a while."

"It has." Have you completely forgotten how to talk to him?

"Wanna take a walk with me?" he asks. And before you can stop yourself, you find yourself walking down the sidewalk with him.

It's quiet as the two of you walk down the street, neither of you really knowing what to say or where to start. His hands are stuffed in his pockets as he walks next to you, looking down at the concrete.

“So you're in town?” you ask quietly, looking over at him, taking the leap and trying to talk first.

“Uh, yeah, I am,” is all he responds with.

“May I ask why?” you prod.

“Yeah. Um… I wanted to see if you were still here,” he answers, his cheeks turning a little red as he kicks a rock.

You weren't expecting that answer.

“Really?”

“Yeah. I realized I never properly said goodbye and I wanted to apologize. I just… We thought it'd be easier,” Jake admits, making you stop in your tracks. When he notices you're not walking next to him anymore, he stops and turns and looks at you.

“How could it have been easier, Jake? I was worried,” you ask incredulously, looking at him like he'd lost his mind. “You didn't even tell me you were planning on leaving.”

He looks around you. Clearly, this was not something he wanted to cause a scene about—not that you were trying to.

“Can we talk about this somewhere else?” Jake asks. You know he's not trying to deflect, he's always been open with you. He just doesn't like being open in public.

“Wanna go to the tree house?” you offer.

“That thing’s still standing?” He looks at you with wide eyes, clearly shocked. You chuckle as you nod.

“C'mon,” you nod your head and head back down the street to your house, where you slip into the backyard and to the old oak tree in the back corner where your father had built a treehouse for you and Jake. Neither of you have been inside it since middle school. Well, you'd been in it a few times since Jake had left, for sentimental reasons, but only a few times. Mostly just to clean the leaves and stuff out of it.

Now, the two of you stand beneath it, looking up at it.

“After you,” you gesture to the ladder for him to climb up first, before he starts shaking his head quickly.

“No, please, you first, I insist!” He says, making you snicker and shake your head as you start to climb up the ladder. When you look back down, you see him still at the bottom, one foot on the first step, glancing up hesitantly. His eyes widen a little, like he was caught red handed when he meets your eyes. He's so cute when he's embarrassed.

“You comin’, Jakey?” you ask, your voice teasing as you use the nickname you had used when you were like ten.

“Don't me call that,” he rolls his eyes as he starts to slowly climb up the ladder until he's inside the tree house, sitting opposite of you.

“Why not? Too big and tough for it?” you continue to tease him.

“No, because I'm not ten years old anymore,” he answers with a raised eyebrow. “I can't believe this thing isn't falling apart by now.”

“Well they tend to stay together when you keep up the maintenance,” you shrug, going to sit in the corner by the window, your favorite spot as a child.

“Who's kept up the maintenance?”

“Me,” you raise a challenging brow at him, almost daring him to keep bugging you about it. “Now…to the topic at hand.”

His natural smile, that he always seems to have when you're around, falters when you change the subject, nodding as he scoots over to his window on the opposite side of the treehouse. The window where he'd keep guard if any “enemies” (aka adults) were coming.

“Right… Look, I should've told you I was leaving. I'm sorry I didn't, I just…” he sighs, trailing off as he looks out the window.

“You just what?”

“You would have asked me to stay…And I would have listened to you,” he admits quietly, watching your family as they mull about inside the house.

“Why is that a bad thing?” You ask him softly.

“Because I couldn't stay. I had to leave. To keep us safe.”

“Us?” you ask, heart skipping. Was he protecting what could have been between you? But you see him point to his temple as he looks back at you. Ah, us. His alters and himself.

“You know what life was like for us. I had to get us out of there,” he says simply.

“I would've understood, Jake.”

Jake just stays quiet, dark brown eyes still looking out the window. He knows you would’ve understood. But that’s part of the problem isn’t it? That no matter what he does, even if he has wronged you, you seem to understand, as if you’ve forgiven him. He doesn’t deserve it, does he? Your forgiveness, your kindness. You’ve always been too good of a friend to him. It’s why he tried to stay away, because he knew you’d gladly welcome him back like this.

“So you came all the way back to apologize?” you ask, realizing he had no intention of responding.

“Yes.”

“Are you going to leave again?”

He went quiet again. You weren’t sure if that meant yes or no. So you wait to see if he responds.

“Do you want me to leave again?” he finally says quietly.

“No. My best friend just came home, I’m in no rush to lose him again. But I understand if you do,” you admit softly.

“How do you always understand?” he asks, turning to you, his brows furrowed, confused.

“What do you mean?”

“Every time I leave or come to you with some shit excuse for how I’ve been acting, you always understand. When I told you there were other people inside my head, you understood. When I would ask to crash at your place at random times in the night, covered in bruises, you never asked for an explanation, you just understood. When I left town after graduation without ever telling you a single thing, you understood. How do you always understand?” His voice sounds almost pleading, his eyes trying to find an explanation written on your face.

“I don’t know…I just do. Because you’re my best friend. I’ve never needed an explanation from you. I just trusted you. You never did anything without reason. I understand because I know that life isn’t perfect and I certainly can’t be perfect, so how could I expect you to be as well?” you admit, the words coming to you easier than you thought they would. “Because understanding you has always come easy to me. You could say nothing at all and I’d understand what you mean. You’re like…”

“Like what?” Jake asks when you trail off. He catches the sight of your pink cheeks in the sunlight. For a moment, he allows himself to think about how pretty you are. Though, he’s always thought you were pretty. For a moment, his silly little heart hopes you say what he wants you to say, what he wanted to say before he left.

“You’re like… my soulmate,” you say softly. “I know it sounds silly and childish, but it’s true. We’ve gone through so much together and we always have each other, even after being separated for years. You’re my soulmate, Jake, and I-”

“I love you,” he rushes to say before you can even think of the words. You stop speaking, having been caught off guard, for many reasons.

For one, you never expected him to be the first one to say those three words. You always thought you’d have to be the one to say them. Secondly, you never thought he’d say those words to you. You never could have imagined your best friend feeling the same way as you. And yet, here he was, saying them. Before you and to you. This has to be a dream.

“Lo siento,” he starts to say, his eyes a little panicked. “I didn’t mean to say it. I just- I thought that’s where you were going so I thought I’d say it. Mira, don’t feel obligated to say it back, I just-”

“I love you, too,” you cut off his anxious rambling. He stares at you a moment like you’ve grown a second head. “I’m not just saying it because you said, either. Jake, I’ve loved you since high school. I wanted to tell you then, but I was scared, and then I went to tell you and you were-”

“Gone. Fuck…” he breathes, looking down as he seems to mull this over. “I think I had to leave to realize it myself. I missed you, almost came home so many times, I kept wondering why I felt like something was missing. Why some days I felt like I couldn’t breathe suddenly whenever I wanted to speak to you or see you. One day, it hit me: I loved you, and missed you.”

You almost can’t believe it. That he was admitting this to you. He was explaining himself, and you knew it wasn’t because he felt like he had to. It was because he wanted to. And you weren’t even sure how to express what you felt other than leaning across the space and taking his face in your hands and kissing him.

And boy, did it feel right. His pink lips, thought you’d often caught yourself staring at, fit perfectly against yours. They were soft, and he tasted like…raspberries? He must’ve snuck some when he got here. But he seemed frozen, his lips weren’t moving against yours. Fuck, did you cross a line? He might not have been ready for that. And just as you start to pull away, his lips chase yours, taking them back between his own, hungry to keep your sweet lips against his. He’d just gotten his first taste of the sweetest thing he’s ever tasted, and he sure as hell wasn’t letting it leave his lips anytime soon.

The way you two seemed to move together, in sync with each other, was electrifying. Jake cups one of your cheeks in his calloused hand, his other hand slipping behind your back to pull you closer to him, the small space of the tree house practically forcing you into his lap – not that you minded.

When you two finally part, it’s not because you want to. It’s because you have to. Because you both need air to breathe. So, you sit in his lap, nose nuzzled together as you both catch your breath, looking at each other.

“Why didn’t we do that sooner?” you breathe with a soft giggle.

“Because then it wouldn’t have been as sweet as that was,” he points out with a smile, leaning in to give your lips a soft peck.

“Well, I suppose you have a point, there,” you smile wide, looking into those eyes that melt into chocolate when the sun beams hit them just right.

“Course I do,” he grins, kissing you again, losing himself against your lips. And you’re just as bad, falling even deeper in love with him every second you’re in his arms. It feels like a dream come true.

“I love you,” you whisper against his lips.

“Te amo,” he whispers back.

And so you sit, basking in each other’s presence, finally in the arms of your best friend again, your soulmate, your lover. And it seems only fitting that the place you finally become lovers is the same place where you decided to become friends:

In the tree house in the old oak tree in your backyard.

______________________________________________________________

here's my bingo card. I figured it'd look better down here!

tag list: @juneknight @spacecowboyhotch @moonknight-events @gardenof-venus @fandomtrash465 @pinkpenwuin @sleepyamaya @sm8th0p @firesidefandoms @missmarmaladeth @stevenandmarcslove @avengersinitiative2012 @lunaleah @winxschester @shadowmoonnight @ahookedheroespureheart @phan3145 @local-mr-frog @theconsultingdoctor10 @luvpedropascal @violet-19999 @an0th3rsss @iamcoolguy @fruitymoonbeams-blog @marisferasiop @bensolosbluesaber @rellasnowheenim @quethekillerqueen @jake-g-lockley @whydidigetalibralartsdegree @moonknightwifey @howaboutcastiel @princessloveweird @minigirl87 @midgardian-witch @leahnicole1219 @acciocriativity @missxlause @groovycass @kotonei-molyneux @marc-spectorr @toracainz

#moonknightevents #moonknightbingo #jake lockley #jake lockley x reader #moon boys #moon knight #sappy ending #mccn bcy

85 notes · View notes

iicheeze · 1 year

Text

THE FOOL & THE STUBBORN

Once, a Princess of a powerful empire fell in love with a lowly commoner. She was determined to marry the man, thinking that he was the right one.

However, the Commoner despises love. As he has had terrible experiences of it. And when he found out that the princess is in love with him. He was disgusted.

He tried everything to avoid the woman. Yet, the Princess would always manage to find him.

“ Will you marry me? ” She would always say with a lovely, bright smile.

The Commoner wanted oh-so badly to say no. But he was talking to a person with nobility. Just speaking to her badly would be like asking for death.

So, he'd always politely say.

“ I don't know, give me more time. ”

And so, everyday, the Princess would propose to the man. Any chance she could. And the Commoner would always say the same words.

And the cycle would repeat, day by day, again, and again, and again.

However, the princess was dying for a different answer. So she asked the jester of the empire for help.

Yet the jester did not spoke a word. As its job is to just entertain the noble.

With so much love to give, the princess cried and cried. Clutching her heart in pain.

And yet, another day has passed.

She proposed to the man again, this time, a less brighter smile. Hopeful as ever.

Yet the same words were spoken out.

“ I don't know, give me more time. ”

The Commoner still showed no remorse for the woman. As he left the Princess behind.

The Princess expected this. Usually, she'd think in a positive, excited way.

Now, she couldn't help but think.

Perhaps.

It is time to move on.

As the commoner was invited to the lovely wedding of two empires, he thought to himself.

Finally.

Yet, his chest started to hurt.

It was palpitating so fast, so loud.

It hurts.

Why is it doing that?

He didn't want to show up to the wedding. Thinking of it as a nuisance.

Yet his family insisted.

So he did.

As the church's bells chimed, flower petals falling from the sky, and a loud, continuous cheer echoed through the building.

A bride and a groom could be seen.

The bride, oh, the bride.

She was beautiful.

She was stunning.

She was heavenly.

The Commoner couldn't help but be surprised.

Why is the Princess marrying another?

The Commoner knew that rejecting the princess would result to leaving the woman heartbroken.

He knew that she proposed to the man an ungodly amount of times.

But why did it hurt so badly?

He wanted nothing but to close his eyes.

But the Princess was so beautiful, and so happy.

The Commoner was astonished.

Had he been in love with the Princess?

Then why would he reject the Princess' proposal?

Perhaps, it's because of his terrible, terrible experience with love.

Perhaps, it's because he thinks of her as a filthy, selfish noble.

Perhaps, he can't see himself being happy with another.

Perhaps, it's because he wanted to accept the proposal. but he thinks the Princess is too good for a lowly commoner like him.

The Commoner was in love with the princess.

Yet he was too late to realize that.

Now, she is happy with another man.

Who isn't him.

“ Geez, the commoner's such an idiot. ” [Name] grumbled, finally closing the short novel. “ Why are you even reading that in the first place? ” Kaveh asked, confused.

“ Well, I found an old novel earlier when I was sorting out my stuff. ehe. ” The [Hair Color] chuckled.

“ Plus, the commoner reminded me of a certain someone. ” “ Huh? Who? ”

“ I love you. ” The gray-haired male stated, “ .. What. ” [Name] sweat dropped.

“ I've loved you for a long time. Before you and Kaveh got together, before you two got married, and.. ”

“ I realized that too late. ”

“ I know I broke your heart that day. I know of it. Kokomi won't stop tweeting about you crying and not getting out of your room. The professors kept getting worried about you because of your absence. ” “ You can stop, that's too embarrassing bro. ”

“ But at that day.. I didn't know that I was in love with you too. You could say I was at.. Denial. But not what you think of. ” “ What do you mean? ”

“ ..I was afraid. ” “ What? ”

“ I was afraid that I wouldn't be a good lover. I was afraid that you would break my heart. I was afraid of you leaving me. I was.. ”

“ I was afraid of loving. ”

“ So I closed off my heart. And I turned you away. ” “ ... ”

“ And I wished that I never did. ”

“ Uh.. Dear, you're spacing out again. ” Kaveh stated, snapping his lover back to reality. “ Oh, right. The commoner just reminded me of.. ”

“ .. I don't know. I forgot. ”

TAGLIST || @star-star-fall-inlove @nachotrash @baelloraa @tanspostsblog @kalpie @makimakimi @nishayuro @zomzomb1e @sassy-cat-in-town @aloveablechaos @ceylestia @severedvigility @goubaia @6-022-10-23 @duhsies @suwnshine @xiaos-wife1 @kysrion @kunikuzushisbeloved @mariposa666haruka @sunsinrinn @milkm4nz @klementime @beesgobuzzbuzz @perhapseven7eggs @fluffyxcloudz @orionicchaos @1-800asimpforfugo @thelonelyarchon @hysteriablues @idolautism @sunsethw4 @escapeis

(BOLD MEANS I CAN'T TAG YOU! IF THERE'S A CHANGE TO YOUR USERNAME, PLEASE TELL ME!)

MASTERLIST || 3 MONTHS, 3 DAYS, AND 33 MINUTES

AUTHOR'S NOTES || this is an extra to the 3 Months, 3 Days, and 33 Minutes since i think i havent posted a single chapter or extra stuff to it lmao

after this i'll post chapter 5 LMAOAOA

393 notes · View notes

thehwaynedame · 1 year

Text

Katsuki Doesn’t Dance

Words: 832

Pairing: Katsuki Bakugou x Reader

Warnings: Tooth rotting fluff, bad writing?

Disclaimer: I was watching wedding dance tutorials and this came to my head. I’m not getting married or anything, I just think they’re cute to watch.

Katsuki Bakugou doesn’t dance.

He’s told you this from the very beginning and has been adamant about it ever since. He first told you at a big gala to celebrate the new top charting heroes, both you and him stood to the side, watching old friends twirl each other about; they were smiling and laughing, having the time of their lives. You watched him from the corner of your eyes, watching how he lifted the expensive champagne to his lips, then, you watched the way his Adam’s apple bobbed in motion with his gulp. Despite his words, you could see the way his carmine irises shone with a sense of longing and loneliness —they followed the swaying forms of your friends and you couldn’t help but sigh, for you knew the idiot would never give in.

Eventually though, you settled into the fact that he wouldn’t —that neither of you would have that moment together. The dream of you both dancing to a song in the kitchen late at night was crushed by his stubbornness, and he’s just lucky that he managed to be an amazing partner without fulfilling that dream…

Besides, you’d never push him. You’d always been one to respect the boundaries that the blond set, obtaining the affection you needed from the way he held you close at night, or from the lengthy kiss he gave you every morning.

It was more than enough, for you didn’t need a dance to know how much Katsuki Bakugou loves you, he shows you in his own ways that he does.

Though, you had to admit —you were pretty giddy to learn that Mitsuki, your soon to be mother-in-law and wedding planner had made the first dance mandatory. You really couldn’t help it, the fantasies of your wedding running through your head more than ever now, thanks to the news that you’d finally get that one romantic dance with the grumpy man that you adore.

You never expected it to happen, no matter how much you had fantasized about it, you had never came to this conclusion.

For now you stood before all your family and friends with the lights dimmed, your now husband standing before you. His hand awaited yours, calloused and rough, but gentle in the way it had grasped yours, his expression shocking you to the core —for it was far from his usual scowl.

His face isn’t scrunched up, his brows lifted and relaxed. He was actually smiling —barely, but you had the pleasure of being close enough to see a dimple form from the way his lips had curved. He hadn’t scowled for most of the day, only towards the both of your friends, who were teasing him relentlessly about how weird he looked up on the altar. But the look he was giving you now was causing your poor heart to palpitate out of your chest… His eyes that spoke volumes of his soul had softened, nothing but complete adoration in them as he pulled you closer to him, his other hand resting on your waist before giving it a squeeze.

“Why are you looking at me like that? Where’s that gremlin look of yours?” You try to joke, ignoring the way a shiver ran up your spine from the way his thumb massaged the finger where your wedding ring now rested snugly. “Am I not allowed to look at my wife? I’ve only been waiting for this day since we kissed at our graduation.” He answered, the low music beginning before you could respond, he does as you both had practiced, guiding you to spin, before pulling you back to him. “I simply take pride in being able to read your expressions —and the one you made just then…” You tried but he was quick to cut you off, the warmth of his forehead making contact with yours making you chuckle.

Your eyes meet and you feel yourself melting.

“Stop thinking, soak in the moment.” He instructs, and judging by the way he completely lost himself in you, keeping you close the rest of the dance, you knew he certainly had. It reminded you of just how lucky you were —to love someone like Katsuki Bakugo, to have him love you in return. It reminded you that now you didn’t have to worry about silly little dances, for none would beat the feelings you felt that evening, in the arms of your sappier than usual husband.

Even as time would pass on, and the late night swaying to music in your home would become normal —you’d still remember that night and cherish it. You’d do so just as much as your husband does, ensuring each other a dance every gala and even more so in your home, where you’d continue to laugh together under the lights of the kitchen every time he dipped you, where the both of you would forever to continue melting into each other’s kiss.

Because, you know, Katsuki Bakugou doesn’t dance…

#bnha bakugo katsuki #katsuki bakugo x reader #katsuki fluff #husband katsuki x reader #wife reader #i’m gonna cry #idk what this is #idk what im doing #bakugou katsuki #katsuki bakugo imagine #katsuki x y/n #why am i like this

448 notes · View notes

thesherrinfordfacility · 10 months

Text

✨ episode 1/2 - running commentary✨

- ok so im slightly disappointed that it's the eps i watched in the screening BUT IM DETERMINED TO LOVE IT ANYWAY SO WE REMAIN OPTIMISTIC AND WE MOVE~~

- angel crowley is so young and innocent my poor boy he's been through so much

- like now im watching it, it feels like putting it in a cinema was a Bad Choice and maybe that's why I didn't like it??? it feels way more authentic and cosy on tv

- im sorry but crowley sounds like such an old man in the park scene, "frozen peas... it's good for them too🙂"

- seriously this is so much more palatable on tv format i can't get over it

- OH MAGGIE I LOVE YOU

- aziraphale god bless ur little cotton socks

- god crowley's legs got me SWEATIN

- ugh crowleys hand in the cafe is so FRUITY

- lmao "purely selfish action" aziraphale is so self aware and I love it

- no im sorry but goob is the fucking star of the show you cannot change my mind but dialogue and delivery wise he is currently CARRYING

- Dartmoor mention had me creasing, that's literally on my doorstep

- aziraphale's bitchy ass face then he sits down in the backroom honestly watered my crops and healed nature

- okay im sorry but the dialogue is still a little off for me I won't lie💀

- beelzebub's accent is just 😘👌 perfect, but equally feel like they'd be perfect in a production of oliver

- god believe me i feel for nina but... I... do not like her, and they are NOT suited for each other at all

- I LEARNT MY PASSION IN THE GOOD OLD FASHIONED SCHOOL OF LOVER BOYS

- that dance is so low effort I'm sorry it should have been the macarena or cha cha slide

- crowley's bow tho is so hot he's so graceful he looks like a swan

- and yeah the refs to the other years that aziraphale did the dance is GIVING ME HEART PALPITATIONS ugh

- he and goob are like cats on a hot tin roof like IMMEDIATE hissing vibes

- lmao ok so that episode does end there then... such a weird ending im sorry but yeah let's fully retract the alternate episode theory (but @prime you need to hire me for s3 just a thought bc 👀)

- anyway ep2 I'm sorry but the angelic herald speech thing is cute and funny but also so cringe hmmm

- gabriel is lord farquaad ugh

- I HAVE TO REMEMBER THIS IS A COMEDY UGH but i miss the slightly serious undertones in s1 sob god I hope they come back later on

- UGH THE TURTLENECK🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵

- shax is mommy I don't make the rules

- I noted it in the screening but angel wings for earrings, Maggie????

- nice job on the lie aziraphale well done once again making excellent choices you're so smart and valid (utter moron)

- "SOUNDS A BIT UNLIKELY" LMAO GET FUCKED CROWLEY

- oh goob you really are going through it my bby I love u

- crowley's face after may god forgive you KILLS ME this scene is honestly the stand out one in both ep1 and ep2 if you ask me

- TY TY TY god bless u but you also make me so uncomfortable

- jobs youngest kid truly gives me life

- lmao the fact that aziraphale does actually recognise when crowley tempts him is hilarious tho bc he just conveniently disregards it by the bench scene in s1 hmmm character development or character regression WHO KNOWS

- ok no I'm sorry but the mukbang scene is so unnecessary and uncomfortable

- "whack the kids" honestly the best line of this scene imo, but upon reflection and rewatching it, crowley's demeanour is rather heartbreaking whilst he's reclined getting ratted

- FRANCES FRANCES FRANCES ✨💓

- 'but just to be able to ask the question' UGH CROWLEY STOP

- lmao shoemaking and obstetrics what a combo god bless

- THEY CAN ARRIVE AT ANY SIZE lmao and Michael is too sharp for their own good... but I do hate that gabriel is utterly inept, he came across as cruel and calculating if a little ignorant in s1 but not this comedically stupid

- "yes I bloody am" TY MY LOVE

- Michael sheen and David Tennant deserve nominations for the children swap scene alone, imo the strongest bit of acting in the ep im sorry 'you have my word as an angel' KILL ME

- why is nina obsessed with crowley, like I get it babes but also why

- THEY ARE SO MARRIED MT PARTNER AND I ARGUE OVER THE CAR ALWAYS "our car" LMAO 💀💀💀

- ✨✨✨IT WAS A NICE DAY, ALL THE DAYS HAD BEEN NICE✨✨✨

- ok the rock scene is so much more emotional on tv, so much better

OKAY RIGHT EP3 LETS HAVE ITTTTT

#good omens #good omens season 2 #go2 commentary #good omens spoilers #good omens 2 spoilers #not a shitpost but its good omens babyyyy #edit: it unnerves me that neil liked this cesspit of inner monologue but similarly the man's a madlad and cannot be contained #go off i guess

116 notes · View notes

roosterbruiser · 1 year

Note

Going back home with Bob and him showing you his hometown and meeting his family 🫶

(lt-natrace on main❤️)

𝐇𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐲, 𝐇𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐲

𝐚 𝐁𝐨𝐛 𝐅𝐥𝐨𝐲𝐝 𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐞

When you met Bob for the first time, he was achingly perfect. You were at the farmer's market, which you frequented when the weather was nice enough, and happened to stop by the same local honey booth at the same time.

You noticed him immediately: the hunk in the old Temple University sweatshirt with the muscular legs straining against the cool blue denim shorts he was wearing. His hair was soft, but well-kept and his face was cleanly shaven. You knew, just from looking at him, that he took good care of himself. You liked that in an adult man and had found out, the hard way, that it was not a very common trait in the pointless circle of men you sometimes dated.

The two of you reached for the last jar of lavender-infused honey at the same time. His fingers pressing down on the back of your hand elicited a strange sort of physical response from you--usually, you'd jolt away after touching a strange man. But you wanted to lean into that touch, even if it was minuscule, even if it was minute.

But he retracted, eyes wide behind his wire frames.

"Oh, excuse me, ma'am! I apologize," he said instantly, cheeks pink.

You smiled at him, biting your lip.

"What are you sorry for?" You asked, letting your fingers slip off the jar of honey.

The wind was billowing softly, pulling the scent of the peonies from the next stand over to your nose and parted lips. Bob was blushing something fierce, squinting down at you beneath the harsh gaze of the sun, stammering softly.

"Well, I suppose I was making an attempt at that honey of yours," he says, laughing softly.

It makes you laugh--the two of you reached the honey at the same time, fair and square. The only thing he was guilty of was not bringing a hat or sunglasses out and about on a Saturday morning in San Diego. But he was so endearing, already willing to give you the last jar of honey despite your stranger-status.

He was smiling down at you, too tall for his own good, thin lips pink and soft. His eyes were the color of the sky just above him, so deep and so clear that you felt like you could suspend yourself in them. Honestly, you were having a hard time breathing as he gazed down at you, but in a delicious manner.

"You can have it," you say softly, smiling up at him. "I like the vanilla honey just as much."

Honestly, you don't like the vanilla honey just as much. In fact, the lavender honey was the highlight of your week. You kept having to purchase it every week because you ate it in copious amounts. You couldn't help yourself--it was that good.

But this guy's cute. And he tried to give you the honey already. His face is sweet and his smile is giving you heart palpitations. You think, without even really knowing why or how, that he deserves the honey. It's just an innate feeling that's sitting in your chest heavily.

"You're sure?" He asked softly, perching a brow questioningly.

You nodded, smiling up at him.

"Aren't I always?" You tease like you're old friends.

He grins, chuckling. And then he reaches for the honey and gives you a nod.

"Thanks for this," he says, gesturing to the honey. "I don't think I caught your name?"

You say your name, your heart fluttering when it falls off his lips.

"I'm Bob," he introduces, nodding politely again.

"Pleasure to have my honey stolen by you, Bob," you teased, wrinkling your nose adorably.

He laughed--it was a good sound, one that sounded natural among the calling seagulls and chattering people and live music playing down the street. It just sounded like it belonged there.

"Trust me, the pleasure's been all mine," he grinned at you.

Then you laughed--and Bob nearly doubled over at the sudden bout of butterflies in his belly. Remain calm, Bob. You literally don't even know her.

A soft lull fell over the two of you, both of you trying hard not to let your eyes wash over each other's faces. But there was a distinct longing to continue being in each other's presences, one that you both felt was suddenly intrinsic to you.

But Bob finally cleared his throat and nodded.

"Hope to see you around."

When he said your name again, the skin on the back of your neck prickled. It just sounded right falling out of his mouth.

"Yeah, I hope so, too."

You were a little disappointed that he didn't ask for your number before he wandered up to the register. Logically, you know it's silly. You literally don't even know the guy. But he was so cute and his cheeks were so pink and his lips were so soft looking that your heart felt a little swollen as you continued about the farmer's market, no honey in hand.

You did see each other around: ten minutes later at your favorite pickle stand. Bob fell in step beside you as you inspected a jar of half-sours, humming quietly to yourself.

You were startled, but grinning. He smiled down at you, cheeks pinker than they were before, breaths coming out in short puffs like he'd been hustling to find you (which he had).

"Hey," he breathed, shaking his head softly.

"Hey," you smiled softly. "Fancy seeing you here."

He laughed. God, you were funny. He liked that so much. He liked you so much. You in your pretty dress with your sunglasses on and your hair soft and sweet-smelling. He was an idiot for not asking for your number at the honey stand and had decided, not a moment after paying for the jar of honey you let him have, that he needed to step up and get your information. But you had been gone when he turned around--and not one jar of the vanilla honey had been taken. So, truth be told, he had hustled around trying to find you. And find you he did, your eyebrows furrowed as you inspected a jar of pickles, lips pursed.

And God, you looked fucking beautiful. He knew you were beautiful already. He had also noted you as soon as you'd wandered to the same booth. You had a faint smile on your lips and a little hum in your throat as you moved around wistfully, your hair billowing in the soft breeze. And just after your hands touched for the first time, he swore to God that he smelled flowers. Like some sort of weird fated thing. And to Bob, you looked just as beautiful looking at a jar of pickles than you did reaching for a jar of honey.

"Well, this isn't entirely serendipitous," he admitted, flushing again. He ran a hand through his hair, composing himself, trying to ignore how fucking perfect the color of your dress looked against your skin. "Had to track you down because you forgot..." Bob reaches into his tote bag and retrieves the fateful jar of lavender honey. "This," he finishes with a grin.

He put it in your hands before you even have a chance to tell him that it was his, he paid for it.

"I want you to have it," he told you with a sweet shrug. "But I was hoping that maybe I could buy you some lunch or something. You know, for all the trouble."

You were dithered entirely. God, he was fucking cute. And he had chased you down strictly to give you honey that he paid for and to offer to buy you food. A man after your own heart.

You're not sure what possessed you to do it. But you couldn't help yourself, watching him squint at the sun, his poor blue eyes straining against the brightness. You plucked your spare pair of sunglasses from your tote and slipped them over his eyes. And he's not sure what possessed him to let you, but he did. He didn't even mind that your sunglasses were ultra-feminine and layered on top of his prescription lenses.

And it softened the both of you entirely.

You grinned at each other.

"I could eat," you tell him, sinking your teeth into your lip.

And the rest was pretty much history.

Everything was easy with Bob. Like, really, everything was mind-numbingly easy. Everything clicked into place like it was a magnetized puzzle. You and Bob were a couple that prided themselves on their ability to successfully navigate stressful situations: moving houses, adopting an orphaned rabbit, deployments, IKEA.

What makes it so easy between the two of you is a deep and mutual love for each other. As crazy as you are about Bob, he's crazier for you tenfold. You just thoroughly and completely love each other.

So it's strange that you feel so entirely out of your element right now. You know deep down that everything is going to be just fine, but you're nervous to meet Bob's parents. I mean, the two of you have been together for nearly four years and between deployments and work and all the other shit in adult life, he hasn't found the time to take you back to his hometown.

It's something he's been meaning to do since the moment he asked you to be his girlfriend. He loved his family and considered them to be the most important people in his life, right up there beside you and Pook (your rabbit, obviously).

Bob couldn't be happier right now. His Suzuki is finally getting some dust on it as he drives down the familiar gravel roads leading to his family's farm, the sun is shining, you're sitting in his front seat, and he has an entire week off of work. This is Bob's version of bliss.

Your nerves are getting the best of you. You're usually calmed by Bob's presence alone and usually, you'd be totally open and honest about your nerves. But he's so happy right now--grinning and singing along to the radio, pointing out old stomping grounds, eyes sparkling with nostalgia. You don't want to put a damper on his mood.

So you sit quietly, fiddling with the hem of your dress, rolling the silky material between your fingers. There's a rapid pacing to your pulse right now and you're starting to sweat a little bit--but you're determined to suffer in silence.

You force yourself to take deep breaths when Bob turns down the long, winding drive that leads to the humble little farm house on the hill where he was brought up.

"Home sweet home," Bob sighs, squeezing your hand. He hasn't seemed to notice how clammy your palms are. "Can't wait for you to see my childhood bedroom, honey. It's basically a Star Wars museum."

Any other time, you would laugh. You would tease him. But you just barely manage to smile weakly. This Bob takes notice off immediately.

He squeezes your hand again, suddenly realizing the cold sweat slicking your fingers.

"What's going on, honey?"

You swallow hard, starting to shake your head, but he's peering at you with those earnest blue eyes and fuck--you've never been able to lie to him before. It's not going to start today.

"Just nervous is all," you say quietly, shrugging like it's no big deal.

But he knows you better than that. Of course he does--he's spent every single day of the last four years loving you better than anyone ever has in your life.

He nods, brows furrowing. He feels just a little bit like an asshole now, all giddy and carefree while you're sitting in the passenger seat in a cold sweat.

"I get that," he says earnestly, slowing the car down so you two have more time together, "but I promise that they're gonna love you. Like my mama is gonna be obsessed with you, honey. Promise."

Bob is just someone you always believe. He's never steered you wrong and you doubt he would start right now. You know that his family is going to be good people--how could Bob be such a well-rounded and perfect individual if he had not been raised by the cream of the crop? And Bob loves you so much that you're certain they're gonna have to love you at least a little bit.

"If you say so, Lieutenant," you sigh, sinking further into your seat.

He kisses your knuckles softly, letting his lips linger there as the car rolls to a stop in the driveway.

Your nerves boil over the moment you step over the threshold of his family home. You're overwhelmed for many reasons, the first being that Bob is carrying the luggage and has insisted that you walk into the house ahead of him (damn that gentleman). But you're also overwhelmed with affection and awe just looking at the sweet little farmhouse he grew up in, the one that still seems to stain all his laundry with that sugar-cookie scent.

"Mama, we're home!" Bob calls.

Your heart constricts as Bob lays the luggage down in the entryway and laces his arms around your waist.

And before you even really know what's happening, Bob's mom comes racing from the kitchen with a flowery apron on and flour in her hair, grinning the same grin as her son. And she's hugging you to her tightly like you're old friends, petting your hair, laughing and crying at the same time.

"Oh, sweetheart! It is so good to finally meet you! Bob's been talking our ears off about you for years! You're so beautiful! Can I get you anything? Water? Ice tea? A cookie? I think I have some leftover chicken and dumplings if you're hungry, honey! How as the drive?"

She's holding your biceps as she questions you, not taking a breath or pausing for you to answer even one of her questions. And that is oddly the moment that you know you're going to be okay. She hasn't seen her son in four years and she hugged you first--doing her damndest to make sure you're comfortable in her home.

"Breathe, mama," Bob chuckles, patting her shoulder. "Gonna give yourself an asthma attack!"

Bob's mama, who looks strikingly like Bob with her wavy hair and bright blue eyes and thin lips, just grins at Bob before pulling him into a hug, too.

And just seeing them hold each other, watching a mother love on her son that's been gone for far too long, it makes you feel warm and safe.

"We're so happy you're home," his mother tells him, shaking her head tearfully. "We've missed you so much!"

The rest of the night goes perfectly.

Every minute that you're there, you get more and more comfortable. Bob's mom could talk to a brick wall--she never runs out of questions to ask you and positively drinks in all your answers. She's pleasantly surprised and thoroughly impressed when you help her with the peach cobbler. Even Bob's dad, who is a quieter and meeker man, grows comfortable enough around you by dinnertime to play the harmonica for you around the bonfire.

Bob really comes alive when he's around his parents. No longer is he the shy and reserved man that nurses glasses of water in the corner of the bar--he's the light of their lives and he knows it. You've never seen him treated this way by anyone except you. There's a deep, deep comfort in knowing that you share this with his parents: Bob is your world and everything in it.

"You two love each other," his mother had remarked from across the fire, grinning widely.

Bob had blushed, teasingly rolling his eyes as he held your hand in his, your head resting on his shoulder.

"What gave it away?" You tease.

"Oh, I just like you so much, honey," his mother had said then, laughing. "You gotta come around more often!"

By the end of the first night there, just after two in the morning, you and Bob trudge up the creaky steps with smoke staining your hair and wine sloshing in your bellies.

"So?" Bob asks softly as he closes his bedroom door behind him, smiling as you take in all the endless Star Wars posters lining the walls. "What do you think?"

You're happy--the kind of happy that makes your cheeks ache. You're almost sad that you're only here for a week. This is the kind of place that you could stay forever, you think. All the old pictures and worn furniture and home-cooking--you love it. Being here feels like being the closest to Bob you've ever been and you want to stay in that feeling.

As you trace your fingers across a model of something called the Imperial Class Star Destroyer, you smile. There's not even a speck of dust on it--his mama cares enough to take care of the things he treasures.

"Mmm," you start, sitting on the edge of his twin bed with a tired smile. "I think I'm in love with your parents."

Bob laughs, coming forward to gently cup your cheeks. You lean into him, pressing your face into his smoky shirt, basking in the comfort his fingers invoke in your being as he carefully strokes your hair.

"And they love you right back," he whispers. "Knew they would, honey."

You hum, eyes fluttering shut.

"Let's stay forever," you yawn, cheeks flushed.

Bob's heart is so big right now that he thinks it might explode out of his body. He never thought this would happen ever--the girl of his dreams sitting in his nerdy bedroom and letting her fingernails gently graze the soft skin of his thighs as he holds her close. Quite frankly, he feels like the past four years have been an absolute daydream. But this--this is just perfect.

He says your name softly and you just hum in response, half-asleep sitting up.

"I'm so glad I stole that honey from you," he whispers.

You laugh. He holds you tighter.

"And I'm so glad you found me at the pickle stand."

here is my tag list!!

𝐬𝐮𝐛𝐦𝐢𝐭 𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐬𝐤 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐛𝐥𝐮𝐫𝐛, 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧, 𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐬! 𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐝𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐁𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐥𝐞𝐲, 𝐉𝐚𝐤𝐞, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐁𝐨𝐛!

398 notes · View notes

boyfhees · 2 years

Text

♡ GO LIVE !

PRECIS. kenma is your best friend— and also your crush for two years. so when all your shots at confessing fail, his twitch stream viewers might be able to help. ( wc. 3.5k )

GENRE. fluff, best friends to lovers

WARNINGS. kissing but it's not descriptive, one / two profanity ( ies ) i guess, reader is kinda down bad ( but it's kenma so we dont blame them )

NOTE. lol repost 👎 but here's my fav kenma thing i ever wrote

‘Would you join me in today’s stream?’ — seen.

Your heart is palpitating at an unimaginable pace and you’re not sure if it’s because of the presentation due tomorrow or because Kenma asked you to join his stream for the very first time. You like to think it’s the latter— because how can you be so in love with someone? Is it possi—

“You’re blushing,” Kuroo’s words cut your trail of thoughts, which also reminds you to drink your coffee before it gets cold. “Let me guess, it’s Kenma?”

You roll your eyes at the smirk that crept up his face. It’s annoying, really, to live with his never ending remarks. But no matter how much you deny, Kuroo isn’t wrong. It’s not just Kenma, it’s the Kenma Kozume— a hotshot gaming streamer, who happens to be your best friend for over two years, and who’s also your crush and he’s so oblivious about it, he doesn’t know your heart is on the palm of his hands, and he could shatter it into pieces at any given moment.

And it’s not only about accompanying him in a stream. It’s about sitting next to him, in front of millions of people, talking to him, and putting up an actual, functional conversation when you’re barely able to control your thoughts when he’s in front of you. In your defense, everyone liked Kenma. You’ve seen people shouting messy confessions at him whenever he’s out, or giving you gifts / letters to pass on to the boy when they knew you both were friends. You’ve also seen him helping kids and old people cross the road, and they appreciate it so much that they want to introduce their daughters to him. You’ve seen him donating thousands and millions to pet rescue centers and other charities, you’ve seen him being nothing but nice to people he just met.

It was bound to happen— your crush on him, it wasn’t avoidable.

“So are you going to say something or just stare at the phone screen?” Kuroo interrupts again, which you’re grateful for. All the Kenma thoughts in your head needed to be put to rest, even if it was for a minor second.

You look at the boy in front of you with worry ridden eyes. “What should I do? Decline it? I don’t even know about that Zoo Crossi—”

“Animal Crossing.” He corrects.

“— whatever.” You retort. “Just tell me what I should do!”

Kuroo thinks you’re crazy. If it were him, he would accept his best friend’s offer without a second thought. Honestly, any other person in love would’ve done the same— except you. He thinks your brain works differently, is convinced that love has infected your brain so much, you’re unable to figure out what you should do and what you shouldn’t. On one hand, you talk about spending time with Kenma and on the other hand, you freak out about the same, thinking you’ll make a fool of yourself in front of him.

“Join him in the stream? Talk to him? I don’t know, maybe play along? It’s just a stream, y/n. It’s not that hard!”

“No, you don’t get it, Tetsu!” You shout in frustration. This whole situation makes you want to rip your hair out. And what’s even more frustrating is that the man in front of you, Yang Kuroo, is doing anything but helping you out. “You’ve never had a crush, have you?”

“Now, now, y/n” He stops you cautiously. “I’ve also been in a relationship, if you’re forgetting.”

Oh, whatever. You roll your eyes again. Honestly, you don’t know what’s wrong. He’s right— it’s not that hard, but again, it is that hard. It’s confusing, you’re lost. You want to spend time with Kenma, but you’re afraid you’ll do something embarrassing and you’ll have to flee the country, change your identity, and whatnot. It doesn’t make sense, how indecisive can a person be? And the stream? Kenma never asked you to join his streams. He knows you fall down to figure zero when it comes to games.

Then why?

Does he want to make fun of you? Wait— what if he finds you annoying and he wants you out of his life? What if he has a secret love who’s insecure of your presence so he’s trying to push you away? What if—

“Stop thinking about all that crap!” He aims a pencil at you, making you flinch and curse under your breath as it hits your forehead. Right. He knows— after all he has known you since the college freshman year. “Are you sure you don’t hate him? How can you think such things about the person you like?!”

You lean back, sighing and frowning, proceeding to annotate the corners of your notebook with stars and moons and messy scribbles of question marks and circles, hoping that doodling on your notebook will give you a way out of this.

“I don’t think you can do this.” you look at him with your peripheral gaze as he continues. “Just give up.”

“Oh, shut up.” It’s not the first time Kuroo’s telling you to surrender, and it’s a joke every time it brings it up. You know you can’t give up, and he knows you won’t. And then a seemingly profitable plan hits your brain. “Okay, I’ll go, and then do whatever he wants me to do in the stream, and after it ends, I'll ask him on a date. How ‘bout that?”

You don’t know why Kuroo looks at you with concerned eyes.

“Y/n,” his hands rest on yours. “You think, like, twenty times before texting him a hi. What makes you think you can ask him on a date?”

You jerk his hand away. “And there I thought you were giving me moral support!” But no matter how much you deny it, you know Kuroo’s right. It’s funny and embarrassing to think you’re so in love with your best friend, you can’t keep up a conversation without having your feet turn cold. It has to be stamped as one of the cringiest things, you think, sounds like those leads in a Shoujo Manga. “And what if I ask him out without messing up, huh?”

Kuroo smirks confidently, knowing you’re just making empty assumptions. “Lunch on me this whole month, but only if you ask him out. I’ll ask Kenma so don’t you dare lie about it.”

And so you’re here, four hours later, in Kenma’s room, waiting while he prepares coffee for the two of you. Your gaze runs all over his room. The two rows full of video games on his shelf catch your eyes. It’s surprising how there’s always a new bunch whenever you visit. Below it are a few books about accounting and business stacking beside mechanical engineering— wait, why does he study engineering? You don’t put much thought into it and follow your gaze to his desk adorned by a photo frame with his family, and a picture of him and Kuroo ( seemingly back from their high school days ) with a cat they rescued from the local river. You’ve heard the sheep head brag about it so much that you can make it to the short stories section of a children’s magazine with it.

Then your eyes settle upon a certain polaroid peeking out of a stray notebook resting beside his monitor. It looks familiar, you think, and then you pull it out, only to place it on the table hastily as he enters the room. “Having fun?”

“I guess,” a smile climbs up his face voluntarily as he watches your lips curl into one too. “Didn’t know you still had this.”

“Of course. What kind of friend do you take me for?”

From that moment on, time seemed to flow like running water. You learn that he invited you an hour prior to the stream to spend time with you, and it does nothing but accelerate your heart infinitely. While he tells you about the stream— which was after numerous requests from you because he said it’s a secret and a surprise— you were busy admiring the way his eyes shone when talking about things he likes. ( and yet, every time, you fail to realize that his eyes shine even brighter when talking about you )

Another thing you learn is that the whole point of today’s stream is to introduce you to his fans because they’ve been asking him to do so ever since you accidently walked past his monitor, not realizing the camera was on, which was exactly six months ago. You knew it was a mistake, but now it feels like a sin. What if they don’t like you? What if they start attacking you like what happened to the friend of another streamer a few weeks ago? What if—

You hate to have all those what ifs plaguing your mind. But then, you remember Kuroo saying that Kenma will defend you no matter what, so you decide to hang onto that single string for the rest of the day. “What are we going to do, though? I’m sure the introduction isn’t the only thing on today’s list, is it?” you ask.

“Actually— it is.” He pauses, taking a sip from his coffee before proceeding further. “I’m too tired to play so let’s just do whatever and have fun.” He could hear Kuroo calling him a liar for that one.

The next ten minutes pass away in preparations and by the time you take a seat next to him in front of his computer, assuring yourself that you’ll be fine, you realize that stream has already started and you can see the comments flooding in, yet daring not to read them. Kenma nudges you from the side, reckoning you to say something, a silly smile dancing on his face.

“Oh, right— I’m y/n,” You begin, fiddling your fingers out of nervousness. “And, I’m Kenma’s friend—” you’re about to speak further but words get stuck in your throat as you feel his hands intertwined with yours from under the table, a gesture to let you know that you’re doing great and there’s no need to be nervous.

And then he doesn’t let it go for the rest of the stream, until you roll back your chair to grab your cell phone from his bed, which was only a minute later ( but the whole thing felt so timeless to you ) A wide yet nervous smile makes its way to your face as soon as you face away from the camera. You wonder if anyone noticed that little gesture you and Kenma shared, and if someone did then what are their thoughts. Even though it was short lived, his warmth lingers on your skin like winter morning dew, pleasing and satisfying.

You roll back to the screen, a certain comment catches your attention.

‘You both look adorable together !!’

Kenma fails to notice it, or so you think, but those five words are enough to get the butterflies in your stomach excited. Actually, butterflies aren’t even half equivalent to what you’re feeling. A zoo would be a better term, and just one comment made all those animals go crazy in love.

And then, another comment holds your gaze.

‘Y/n do you know Kenma talks about you a lot in his streams ?!?!?!’

Your heart feels as if it’s on fire. Turning your head towards him, you wonder if he noticed that comment, which he certainly did considering his fluttering gaze and red cheeks, wait— is he blushing ?!

“Uh, I mean y/n’s a close friend so it only makes sense for me to talk about them.” He clarifies nonchalantly, but from what you notice, he’s nervous. And he’s tapping his foot on the floor as if he’s writing college entrances again. It’s cute, and it makes you giggle like a toddler. Much to your surprise, Kenma's hand slides into yours again, and he’s pretending to not know, as if it’s unintentional, and as if his hand belongs to yours’. Even though you feel starstruck, and your heart feels like it’s going to stop any time soon, you relax into his little embrace, a shy smile flaunting on your face.

Kuroo was right, it’s not that hard.

The comments keep flooding in, this time faster than before. Half of them are asking if you both are dating ( and when you shake your head in denial, some of them say it’s a shame that you both aren’t a couple already ) Kenma doesn’t respond, and you wonder why. Instead, he sulks about how they’re supposed to be his friends, and not expose him in front of you, or how they all switched sides as soon as they saw you, which is why it took him six months to ask you if you wanted to join his stream. ( He can hear Kuroo calling him a liar, again )

You’re having a fun time watching the friendly banter between him and his fans, that is unless someone asks how you and Kenma met. And you realize it’s your time to carry the show. You take a look at Kenma who’s burying his face in his hand because your first meeting was utterly embarrassing, and you couldn’t wait to share it with around a million people.

“Y/n, no—”

“Y/n, yes!” You cut him off, mid sentence. That’s probably the first time you’ve been so excited this whole day, and as much as Kenma loves seeing that smile dangling on your face, he doesn’t want you to disclose that. “Kenma, do you know how long I’ve waited to tell your viewers about your stupid ass ?!”

He gasps dramatically, mumbling something along the lines of ‘how can you betray me’ as he pretends to get off his chair and leave the scene, only for you to pull his hand ( which was still laced in yours ) towards you and make him sit again. And the comments are going off with the ‘omg they were holding hands all this time???!!!’ and equivalent phrases but none of you seem to notice, for he was too busy getting away from the monitor while you grab his arm with both your hands, pinning him down to the chair before the air fills with your laughter.

“Really?” He deadpans, pulling his hands out of your grip. “After all the notes I've copied for you when you missed classes?”

You laugh at his silly actions, especially at the pout on his face that makes him look ten times prettier than he already is. You wonder if he knows the magic he casts on you, the way it makes you feel like a love struck cat. You almost forget the topic under discussion, your first meeting with him, but that’s until you see a comment loaded with pleases and words asking you to tell, no matter what.

“Alright, alright,” you lean back as if pleading for truce. And good for you because Kenma believes it a little too easily. “I won’t tell anyone that you almost spat water on me when we met for the first time.”

“Y/n, what the heck?!”

His expression is priceless. It’s the best day of your life— well everyday with Kenma is best but this one, specifically, is the best one of all. You inch towards the screen, reading the comments while Kenma covers his face with his hands, trying to hide his flushed face. ( You’re pretty sure he’s reading the comments either way )

But then he looks at you with eyes glistening with mischief. And you realize what’s going to follow. “In my defense, they wore a chicken outfit for handing out some flyers!”

“Kenma—”

He leans away from you, one hand holding up the keyboard to prevent you from terminating the stream while the other rests on your forehead, stopping you from getting any closer. “That’s what you get for—” A pause. The whole room goes quiet as you both realize the proximity in between. You retract yourself away from him, an awkward atmosphere enveloping you both as your eyes settle on the computer screen.

‘Oh my god, just date already!’

‘You both are so cute aaaa!’

‘Kenma fight anemo hypostasis with Xiao and ask out y/n if you lose challenge.’

You can feel your heart pounding so furiously, you’re afraid he’ll hear it. Honestly, you wonder how he hasn’t taken a hint about your huge crush on him, considering everyone in your friend circle— and even some of Kuroo’s friends too— know about your excruciatingly painful and droughtful love life. ( And for some reason, even Lev texts you once in every few days to ask whether you confessed to Kenma or not )

When no one addresses the elephant in the room for another few seconds, you decide to take the initiative. “Um, how about I order a take out?”

Then Kenma’s words follow along. “Actually, I have all the baking stuff from the last time.” You sigh. What did you even expect, for the Kenma Kozume to bake for himself, when his favorite task is to annoy you while you’re busy baking him delicacies? Not possible. He would’ve said further, but his eyes follow yours to the computer screen.

‘WAIT YOU BOTH ARE GOING TO COOK TOGETHER?!!?!! CUTE!!’

“I think we should order a takeout.” He suggests shyly, a smile climbing up your face at his actions, one that morphs into a chuckle as you mutter, ‘you’re so cute’ as if your face isn’t looking like a tomato itself.

You grab your phone and browse through the menu until you receive a call, the ID revealing your friend's name. You excuse yourself out of the room while Kenma buries his face in his hands again, his face turning redder than before. Your faint voice reaches his ears from behind the closed door of his room; he’s left wondering if your voice always felt like a melody when listened to from a distance.

There’s a soft smile on his lips. He doesn’t realize how it got there, or since when it has been residing. All he knows is that his heart is beating swiftly and maybe this time, he wouldn’t deny it. His ears perk up as the sound of you opening the door pulls him out of his dreamlands, eyes wide open at the sight of his computer because he almost forgot about the stream.

“I’m back!” You chime in, sitting next to him as you wave at the viewers. You look better than almost any horse before, when you were literally sweating out of nervousness, and honestly, Kenma loves to see you getting comfortable with things he likes. “Wait, do you guys know that Kenma cries during disney movies.?”

And even if Kenma likes you seeing you getting comfortable around him, he doesn’t mean he appreciates you exposing his habits and secrets to a million people. “You say it as if you don’t hind behind me while watc— wait,” His eyes zoom in at a comment as he proceeds to read it. “Kenma can I take y/n— no?! They’re mine, go look for someone else?!”

And here comes the heart palpitations.

The amount of times your heart has raced today should be enough to give you multiple heart attacks. Your eyes settle on Kenma, who looks a little too passive aggressive for someone who’s responding to a comment that’s a joke, and then his hands slide into yours again. This time, with a firm grip. While it may feel good, you hope it’s real, and that he’s not doing it for clout ( even though you know he, out of all people, doesn’t need any clout ) You hope that all the butterflies he gave you today mean something, because you’re sure you can’t handle these empty fluttering touches anymore.

The stream is long forgotten, and so are the viewers.

His gaze settles upon you, and you feel your heart doing somersaults as you feel his eyes travel down to your lips. And in the next second, before you know it, his lips are on yours, while the world seems to pause.

You don’t give it much thought— you couldn’t. Your brain feels misty and all you remember is that you’re kissing Kenma, the boy you’ve been in love with for so long. Instead, you tilt your head, kissing him back as he deepens the kiss. It feels like a cold breeze by the beach, you think, or maybe a warm blanket in winters. While you know the moment has to end, you don’t want his lips to leave yours.

Call it a jinx, but your eyes shoot open as you travel back to reality, remembering about the stream as you push him away before turning towards the computer with your flustered face. “I think we should end the stream here,” and you exit off Twitch just as quickly as Kenma logged in earlier today.

Then your eyes meet his, and words begin to fall out of his mouth. “Y/n, I’m sor—”

“I hope you meant it, Kenma.” That’s all you say. Actually, that’s all you could say, because it’s the only thing you wish for. He doesn’t reply, and you think it’s time to leave.

But then he ghosts up your hand, proceeding to cup your cheeks before inching dangerously closer to your face. “Trust me, I’ve been meaning to do it for over a year now.” And he connects your lips with his again.

taglist in the rbs.

#prod. — caelin.#album. — haikyuu.#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu kenma #kenma x reader #haikyuu long fic #kenma long fic #haikyuu fic #kenma fic #haikyuu fluff #kenma fluff #haikyuu headcanons #kenma headcanons #haikyuu drabbles #kenma drabbles #kenma kozume #hq kenma #hq fluff #hq fic

831 notes · View notes

p-taryn-dactyl · 1 year

Text

in the shadows | 1 |

a/n: look…ik this isn’t a request or part of any of my series’s but…i just couldn’t not write this idea that burst into my head in my genetics course alright?? (Ik what you’re thinking ‘oh great another series for her to abandon’ lol, ive never abandoned a series I’m just extremely slow and self conscious about my writing

word count: 1.4k

warning(s): author recently got over her extreme dislike for steve rogers so if anything feels forced it probably is - timeline might not make sense but whatever its my timeline now - nazis (WWII) - canon death - reader burns someone alive but its a nazi so its fine - this is literally like if Y/N was in every movie and participated in the plot - not explicitly stated in this part but reader is the mythological inspiration for the devil, bc I’m extra - slow? - lots of time jumps I’m sorry - i do not remember much of CA:FA soooo - Y/N is an eternal but they are not explicitly mentioned in this chapter

prompt: while the others separated after the supposed defeat of the Deviants, you immersed yourself into the world, it’s people, it’s culture. you love earth and would do anything to defend it but the celestials stand in your way. this is the story of how, in the shadows, you were the driving force protecting the world. (I’m sorry if this prompt is confusing - I couldn’t quite gather my thoughts)

Across the room, you gave Erskine a questioning stare. The scientist was looking at a clipboard, his brows furrowed together in a way that indicated the wheels of his mind were turning rapidly. Brushing off the soldier that was so boldly flirting with you, you made your way towards your friend, startling him once you came to look over his shoulder. Your eyebrows shot up at the list you read, every imaginable disqualifier for the military written in harsh black ink.

“This is a joke, right?”

Admittedly, your voice was hard, weighed down with the exhaustion of the war, tired of each candidate you presented being dismissed. Erskine sighed, looking at you with a similar exhausted expression but his eyes held hope.

“He has proven to be a good man, a perfect candidate!”

You raised a singular eyebrow, pressing your pointer finger down on the picture paper clipped to the file.

“He looks like a gust of wind could knock him over. I could take him with one arm tied behind my back, blindfolded, and walking on a tight rope.”

You watched as the scientist held back a smirk, determined not to encourage your words.

“Y/N, my dear, we both know you could do exactly that with any competitor.”

You shrugged, nodding your head in agreement. Still, you took the clipboard from him, looking over the file hesitantly.

“So, why is this boy the one?”

Erskine’s eyes lit up.

“Besides the determination and strength I see in him, he also exhibits selflessness. Today, he jumped onto a false grenade to protect his squad, not knowing it was a faux.”

Blinking, you gave your old friend a blank stare.

“So, your grand idea is to give this boy super serum…instead of therapy?”

Erskine made to argue but you held up a hand, passing him back the file.

“Aside from the asthma and the heart palpitations, you just said he jumped onto an actual bomb. I’ll approve of your selection, Abe, because we are running out of time, but let me speak with him first.”

Erskine sighed, nodding his head.

“Fine, but be quick, the General wants the demonstration soon.”

As he walked away, you leaned against the wall, flexing your hands in an attempt to calm your nerves. This had to work. Setting your shoulders, you adjusted your blouse and slacks before setting off to the medical room where Erskine’s candidate waited. You pulled back the curtain, shooing away the doctor inside with a look. The boy looked even thinner in person, you took into account, before smiling and holding out your hand. He took it with slight hesitation, confusion sparkling in his blue eyes.

“Is everything alright, ma’am? The doctor told me I could be released to my barracks before tomorrow.”

You nodded, apparently calming the nerves of the man as he relaxed slightly.

“I only have a few questions, then you’re ready to go Mr. Rogers.”

——

Peggy smiled at you as you took your place beside her, surrounded by a variety of military men. She grasped your hand tightly before clasping her hands together.

“This’ll work right?”

She spoke through her smile, voice hushed. You nodded reassuringly, resting a hand on her shoulder.

“It better but don’t worry, Steve is completely safe.”

Peggy sighed and the experiment started.

The next few moments were ingrained in your mind forever. The serum working, revealing a completely changed Steve Rogers. Howards excited cheer, Peggy’s blush as she ‘examined’ the man, Erskine’s proud expression.

Then came the explosion, the gunshots. Erskine falling to the ground, blood staining his shirt. Steve being the last person he saw. Steve looking over at you, almost gasping at the fire he saw in your eyes. You nodded, your silent permission setting off the soldier as he ran after the HYDRA agent, anger and grief fueling his pace. You knelt next to your friend, silent tears streaming down your face, grief coursing through your veins. This wasn’t the first loss you’d experienced, 7,000 years of being on this planet meant thousands of funerals, thousands of heartbreak. But no matter how many, each death chipped away your control, threatening to release the celestial power residing within you.

—-

Steven Grant Rogers was an idiot. A complete and utter dimwit. No brain cell in sight. Absolutely none. And you made sure he knew.

“You’re an idiot.”

You hissed into his ear as you felt the plane rattle in the air. You heard Peggy’s muffled laugh and let yourself smirk a bit before returning to glare at the super soldier.

“I’m an idiot for wanting to save my best friend?”

Damn him.

“Oh shut up. You’re an idiot for going into an active war zone, against orders, barely any training or experience under your belt, and wearing a helmet meant for a showgirl.”

Steve had the decency to look slightly embarrassed before raising a cocky eyebrow and turning to face your fiery gaze.

“You came with me though.”

He sounded like he had won the argument, a small smile on his face. Rolling your eyes, you scoffed.

“To keep your stupid ass from dying. Howard, we’re almost there.” You halted your insult to inform the pilot, your senses sharpening as the plane crossed into enemy territory.

—-

You were sick of this war, sick of these monsters parading as men, sick of their stupid symbol, sick, sick, sick.

Steve had saved Bucky.

Bucky had died.

Steve and the Commandos were inside the headquarters of the Skull, each fighting their own battle. The Captain was against the Red Skull and you weren’t there to help, to protect. Instead, you were stuck fending off these pests that continued to fire their guns at you, no matter how little damage the bullets seemed to cause. One soldier seemed to grow balls, flipping his gun around to make it more of a baton. Yelling, he charged at you, swinging his weapon. The wood and metal splintered, shattering towards the ground. In a split second, you had him on his knees, hand on his throat. All bullets shot at you suspended in the air, creating some sense of a shield. Your grip tightened as you watched the soldier fumble for breath. Cocking your head to the side, you let the fire return to your eyes, the flames igniting the fear of the doomed man.

“sie Teufel!” He gasped out, lips rapidly chapping as the heat radiating from your body over took him. You let the fire running through your veins be released, swirling around the nazi soldier in a hellish cloak. His screams shocked his comrades, the smell of his burning flesh radiating through the air. When his burnt bones crumpled, the ash fell through your fingers and you turned towards the remaining men. As they slowly stepped backwards, prepared to run, your celestial energy burst from you, disintegrating any life form in its way.

Sighing, you reeled your power back in. As you walked towards the compound, you felt dread settle in your stomach. Something had happened, you could feel it in the air. You ran until you found Peggy, tears running down her face as she sobbed into a radio. When she looked up, you sagged against the doorway, closing your eyes.

He was gone. You had failed.

—-

~70 YEARS LATER

It wasn’t everyday you got a text from the Director of SHEILD while having lunch with the worlds most famous man. Sighing, you opened your phone, prepared to see a failed mission report to find Natasha’s sister. But what it said shocked you, causing the fork to fall out of your hand and clatter onto the plate. Tony startled a bit, looking at you above his sunglasses. Pepper and Rhodes also paused, sending you concerned looks. You swallowed, your potstickers losing their flavor. When Tony’s eyes met yours, you sent him a quiet apology, excusing yourself from the table.

“They found him.”

—

You had tried to explain all the problems with room Steve would wake up in, but you found your words dismissed. Fury sent you an apologetic glance as the two of you made your way through the crowded streets of New York City, chasing after a solider from another time. Nick was the first to speak with him, standing silent as Steve mourned his lost date. When he turned back around, however, you had made yourself known, coming to stand next to the Director.

“Y/N?”

“It’s about damn time, Rogers. Did you have a nice nap?”

a/n: look, ik this wasn’t the greatest fic i’ve ever written but I’m just proud of myself for actually writing something. i’m going to continue this series bc i just feel like its personal for some reason. Next part will be explaining Y/N’s relationship with Tony Stark and the IronFam!!

#steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #peggy carter #peggy carter x reader #eternal!reader #my writing #marvel fanfiction #mcu fanfiction #tony stark #tony stark x reader #tony antis please dni #platonic!reader

74 notes · View notes

tailsbeth-writes · 4 months

Text

Thanks for the tag @firenati0n! After being asked about Alex Vs Goodreads Trolls by @cricketnationrise yesterday, I may have got started sooner than planned. As usual I can't seem to stick with just writing the reviews, no I gotta do some prose around it... So enjoy this extra long snippet from the beginning 😙

He was going to kill Alex. Or he was going to die due to heart palpitations caused by Alex and not the nice kind he gets from seeing Alex’s behind in some well fitted suit trousers. Either way, Henry was starting to think Alex was just trying to find new ways to be an absolute demon. He was at Kensington Palace at the insistence of Bea, he was doing a signing event in London. Henry longed for a basic hotel room after just one night in the palace, the sheets leaving behind an itch even as he sipped his morning earl grey. But seeing his sister’s unruly bird's nest of hair walk in made it worth it. She grinned when she saw him at the table, rubbing sleep out of her eyes. He greeted her with a gracious hug, her arms squeezed the dear life out of him. ‘I’ve missed you Hen, why must America be so bloody far away?’ ‘I’ve told you a million times, you are more than welcome to run away and live in our guest room. June would be delighted to have someone to swap big sister stories with more regularly.’ Bea stepped back and held in a laugh, putting a hand over her mouth. ‘We have a private chat, I hear plenty. I'll give you the scoop if you want to embarrass your fiance.’ ‘Tempting, truly.’ He sat back down and let Bea babble about the goings on around the palace while she made herself some breakfast. The coffee smell hugged Henry’s mind, it always whirled a bit more when he was apart from Alex. He’d heard some of Bea’s stories before (‘Did I tell you the housekeeper’s little one is off to secondary school? I feel old!’) over the phone but others were new (‘Amanda from Buckingham is leaving, she got a government job apparently. All very mysterious…’). There was an odd comfort to knowing that things were continuing without him, the world hadn’t ended after all. Bea crunched down her toast and Henry checked his email for today’s schedule. He’d managed to organise a reading at the hospital that he wa- 4 urgent emails. 2 from Shaan. 1 from his agent. 1 from Zahra. All with the subject line: Alex Vs. Goodreads Trolls. This man was going to be the death of him.

(no pressure) tag you're it: @candyspandemonium @duchessdepolignaca03 @cl4r3m0nt @vel-vetcurls @heybuddy-drabbles @orchidscript @cricketnationrise @sparklepocalypse and open tag as usual, please tag me if you take it & we can be pals 🥰

#wip wednesday #this one is going to be a lot of fun #also how i work out my frustation about people shitting on my friends' books just cause they're queer 🙃#rwrb #rwrb fanfic #red white and royal blue #red white and royal blue fanfic #henry fox mountchristen windsor #beatrice fox mountchristen windsor #alex claremont diaz #firstprince #tailsbeth writes

7 notes · View notes

rejectedfables · 5 months

Note

Do you mind if I ask your top 10 favorite characters (can be male or female) from all of the media that you loved (can be anime/manga, books, movies or tv series)? And why do you love them? Sorry if you've answered this question before.....Thanks...

Character: Draco Malfoy (HP) Why I love them: I don't. I love the version of him I frankensteined together from fics I read/wrote as an undiagnosed autistic preteen who wished I knew how to be meaner, and was hopelessly demisexually gay for a brunette with glasses.

Character: Uzumaki Naruto (Naruto) Why I love them: Emotionally neglected ADHD powerhouse who thinks "what do 600 hot girls look like? Me with titties and pigtails 600 times obviously" followed by "what do 600 hot boys look like? All my male friends with bedroom eyes OBVIOUSLY" and somehow hasn't figured out he's into dudes and is probably genderfluid. The Haku and Zabuza arc came SO close to "child soldier figures out that making children into soldiers is bad, actually, and resolves to create a better society where fewer people needlessly suffer" but then I think the author got old and forgot his own trajectory in favor of endless spectacle creep and, idk, something about the moon crushing Konoha or whatever. I lost interest in the story, but not the BOY. Also his relentless fixation with that dark haired cool guy he kissed one time makes every other character feel awkward, and I relate to that.

Character: Urameshi Yusuke (Yu Yu Hakusho) Why I love them: LOVE me a guy who even HEAVEN writes off as an irredeemable asshole surprising everyone with an act of selflessness. Love me an asshole who dedicates his life to love and friendship. Yusuke's narrative is basically "Obviously all yokai are evil. Wait, some aren't (some of my best friends are yokai)? Wait, most aren't (I actually really enjoy the yokai world/community)? Wait, I'M a yokai? (THAT'S why I am the way I am, and actually that's not evil it's just different)??? So there's evil humans AND evil yokai but neither are inherently bad, MOST are just regular people on both sides, and both are worth protecting" and anyway this is a neurodivergent and queer allegory to me, which slaps severely.

Character: Shi Qingxuan (Heaven Official's Blessing) Why I love them: Gender

Character: Luke Fon Fabre (Tales of the Abyss) Why I love them: Nobody's doing character growth like this little shit. An icon. It takes like 30 hours of gameplay for him to become likable and when he does it's somehow genuinely worth it.

Character: Changheng (Love Between Fairy and Devil) Why I love them: (I'm picking only one character per story, which is the only reason Xiao Lanhua and Dongfang Qingcang aren't also on this list.) You're telling me the God of War's narrative is a "tragic princess, betrothed since childhood, can't escape her family's expectations, constantly has to put everyone else above herself, until finally she snaps" story blended with "man who has been forced to live in war, falls for the first person who acknowledges that he, too, needs protection, ultimately rejects the violence he's been forced to endure and enact in favor of pursuing peace" and I'm what? NOT supposed to go insane? Also his nose freckle gives me heart palpitations.

Character: Logan Echolls (Veronica Mars, specifically season 1) Why I love them: What an excellent example of a badly coping shithead jerk fuckup boy who would be SO soft in any context where he's not under constant threat. Something about his mouth-breathing under duress compels me.

Character: Kyo (Fruits Basket) Why I love them: Badly coping under duress, the entire system is stacked against him, anger management issues and the snatched waist of a 90's manga twink. What can I say, a feral cat finding stability and love gets me every time.

Character: Xue Yang (MDZS) Why I love them: Irredeemable asshole feral cat ass man, coping badly at all times with all things but holding it together with a winning personality (gratuitous violence and bad jokes). Falls SO hard for the first person to show him love and kindness, becomes SO soft when not under threat for the first time ever, and then fucks up SO badly he ruins his whole fucking life. Spends more time trying to get back what he lost than he actually HAD what he lost. He's irredeemable. He's irredeemable. He makes apple rabbits for A Qing because she's sad. He's irredeemable. He doesn't pull a weapon on Xingchen even when Xingchen has already stabbed him and he's renowned for violence and revenge. He's irredeemable. I starting writing a post in his defense and hit the character limit halfway through my 'notes to flesh out later' bullet pointed list. He's irredeemable?? Xiao Xingchen could, though, is all I'm saying. The deeper you look into his actions the more humanity there is to find. I'm rotating every single thing about him in my mind like a rotisserie chicken.

Character: Chu Wanning (ERHA) Why I love them: He's hopelessly demisexually gay for literally just one guy. His story is gratuitously tragic but with a happy ending. Autistic Yearning incarnate. He's a burnt out husk of a blushing virgin, and the horniest person alive. Would readily die for his convictions, but won't ask for help. Prettiest wife anyone could ever wish for, with a strong masculine jaw. Total knockout gorgeous with body dysmorphia. Hyper competent with zero emotional intelligence. Widely respected and beloved with intense self loathing. He's never not masking. He's an atticked wife, he's a bossy husband, he's a piece of wood. He's 45. He's 6. He's 20. He's 32. He is catnip for me.

#mo dao zu shi #mdzs #xue yang #asks #anon #2ha #erha #erha he ta de bai mao shizun #lbfad #love between fairy and devil #naruto #yyh #yu yu hakusho #i'm not gonna tag all these #anyway I love asks like this it just always takes me a while so [blesses you with patience] or whatever

7 notes · View notes

transdib · 5 months

Text

i feel like this year has been a huge bust mentally

i didnt wanna be like this still by christmas, let alone the new year

i dont want it to become march and im still like this, a whole year since moving by then.

but i can feel myself improving, funny enough.

ive spent a lot of this time in despair and grief, and i was giving myself a time limit on those feelings. which made me unable to meet my own expectations, which made me recede and become unable to challenge myself, because i wsa constantly setting myself up for failure to begin with. it feels impossible to do a challenge youre already failing before you begin.

and i have been self aware this whole time too, having that logical part of me talk me through it all. i can look back at myself almost in a third person, as ive always done, and see all the connections as to why im feeling and therefore behaving this way.

so instead of sitting around punishing myself, ive been /trying/ to tell myself theres no time limit on adjustment, and that i am strong enough to pull through. even if i come out of this being disliked. ive put so much energy into being anxious about what people think of me, that ive caused my own cycle of not being able to face it.

i have been acutely aware this whole time that others can only do so much for me, and in the end the only person who can change my situation is me. for me to find that inner strength to do that.

i feel like a lot of the noise has quietened down now. because i had to suddenly grapple with not only accepting my old life was changing, but that i had to suddenly build up a brand new life from scratch with very little support. but the life building in england is finally feeling...like i can do it. things feel less confusing and daunting, the roads feel less scary to navigate, i know where to go for what i need now, and ive been falling into daily routines again. which i didnt have when i first arrived. it's like my roots are finally burying in. and thats making incorporating my aussie roots back into my life feel a bit more doable.

i WANT to have voice chats with friends, or have a casual hello. i dont want to be like this. having a twisted tummy and palpitating heart every time i see a new notification on my phone. i havent even cleared my notif bar on my phone for months, out of fear of seeing a message i havent checked from so long ago. there is so much literal and mental clutter. and i want to be free of all of these notifs and emails etc. its not anyones fault but mine. i WANT to be more engaged, i feel homesick and miss everyone. and i HATE that those feelings dominate my behaviour, and how EASY it is to fall into a self fulfilling prophecy. i hate how it makes me a neglectful friend and family member.

but, with therapy, and settling into my life here. i think i can slowly work my way up to getting over all of this. i really. really. REALLY. fucking want to. i want to draw again, i want to learn how to sculpt, i want to be involved in peoples lives again. because right now, im finding it hard to even humour the idea of making friends here in the uk, because of how guilty that would make me feel, and how not ready i am to make new connections, especially cuz i would rather reinforce connection with existing people in my life.

again. self fulfilling. all that does is make me continue to be lonely.

but as i said, it's slowly getting better. i feel bad about how negative ive been all this time. i just want people to know that, in regards to my relationship, i AM happy. and i know that 10 years from now im going to look back on all of this with evren and go "fuck man that was a lot huh"

you cant hate yourself into loving yourself, and thats something that has kept my spark going, even when it's been one bad thought away from fizzling out.

im trying to be easier on myself. i know that all of this can exist at the same time as me having negative effects on others (which i guess is just an assumption to begin with) and i am not immune to causing that damage. but honestly? right now in this moment, im trying to give myself some compassion and lenience. because ive spent years and years feeling anxious and being hyper vigilant about my behaviour and how i affect others, that i have barely taken the time to consider myself and be healthy and strong in my core self. as they say, assume the best unless told otherwise. thats going to be a goal of mine. i always assume good intentions from people, even to a detriment, so i hope to take that view and shape it into a healthier outlook. maybe not everyone has their best intentions or insight, but i think overall people are just trying. god, in this goddamn fucked up world, all we can do is try.

and thats why i need to be more lenient.

sorry for all the tangents and sloppy execution. im probably in the acceptance stage of grief atm lmao, and im tired of being like this.

#life of doge #negative but also positive idk

4 notes · View notes