Tumgik
#waks thoughts
makapatag · 5 months
Text
thoughts about a national "filipino" culture
this post is written after a bout of rereading fanon. this post is by no means a hikayat or persuasive piece but rather pure unfiltered thoughts, perhaps ya'll will find it interesting.
filipino culture is largely revolutionary. this is true of almost every colonized culture: as according to Fanon, National Culture is the Struggle for Liberation, and I largely agree with this. in a way, we are still struggling for liberation from outside forces. in many ways, the Philippines is still a colony (or, perhaps, a neocolony) of america. thus colonialism is still on going. thus, fanon's terminology of colonized/colonist dichotomy is still very effective when applied to modern filipino identity.
i've been pretty vocal about my perspective on filipino identity: it being mostly constructed during the american colonization of the philippines. even to this day, i believe that it is mostly a regurgitation of american culture, even seemingly activist perspectives. much of filipino culture is repurposed from american educational systems. much of filipino culture talks about filipinos, and ignores a vast majority of the other people in the isles. ask the general activist how a bisaya or mindanaowon revolutionary and they will balk.
fanon argues that national culture is just the culture of the struggle that arises from nationhood. after decolonization, both colonized and colonist die. what then, afterwards? he states that national culture is the best way to achieve international solidarity. smaller scale focuses of culture can create better and more authentic cultures instead of vague and generic eidolons. i largely agree for the most part, though we can definitely peer a lot deeper. fanon is also quick to argue that national consciousness (the consciousness to fight for liberation) is different from nationalism (that thing that very quickly leads to fascism).
in the case of the philippines, multiple different culture still exist in milieu with the rest of philippine culture. fanon's works talk alot about the importance of word and language in the colonized's world. so it is here: the filipino as a term is claimed from the colonizers (filipino used to mean spanish that lived in the isles). can it be redeemed and twisted into an empowering word for us, na nakatira dito? potentially (as with all things its mostly a percentage chance). unfortunately, larger is the chance that we completely assimilate into the term: we become spanish people that live in the isles, despite having an already multinational culture (the tagalogs, the bisayas, the bikolanos, etc. all only sharing culture through colonization, in the same way africa shares culture through colonization but have bespoke cultures in and of themselves). thus why there's a tendency for filipinos to be separate from the indigenous people of the philippines, despite tagalogs, bisaya, etc. being indigenous people of the philippines
"but waks, bitch boy, you can't compare the ph to the africa and whatnot they're too big!" witness the philippines' true size in comparison to mainland seasia
Tumblr media
multiple empires can fit within the philippines in size, so that's a fraught argument.
anyway, as i reread fanon i'm realizing too many leftist spaces (at least, mainstream ones in the PH, and especially the manilenyo ones) are currently ascribing to the first kind of culture that fanon spoke about (regurgitation of white culture): looking for pieces of culture to turn into "filipino identity", reinforcing fragments of filipino identity, conveniently forgetting other cultures in the ph (and some even being outright hostile against the idea) when it doesn't benefit their movement (which is annoying, because as real marxists we should be including them under a single revolutionary solidarity). increasingly it's beginning to feel like (manila centric) Mass Organizations are becoming just larger college orgs
however, i'm not saying that won't change--i feel like these orgs will evolve past anyway. and harnessing the power of guilt-ridden petty boojwazee instilled with the fervor of national consciousness is pretty potent in mobilizing large movements, even if they end up burning out by the end of it
so at the end of it i accept filipino as a geographical and revolutionary description, but not as a cultural nationalistic descriptor (as that would end up with us redoing the colonizer's culture). it is a stepping stone. and perhaps we might need to rejigger our definition of the filipino: maybe change its name to pilipinhon (coming from the philippines) from bisaya. or barring that, look at it differently, refuse the colonized intellectual urge to make it a culture like our colonizer's, and accept the culture as it is, of struggle and of liberation.
and then accept that there are multiple cultures underneath it--that there are tagalog cultures and bisaya cultures and lumad cultures and bikolano cultures etc. etc. hell, if the spanish didn't hand us over to the americans, who's to say that the philippines wouldn't have split into multiple different nations (a bisaya nation, a tagalog republic, etc.) it almost happened multiple times in the past. the only thing stopping us was colonialism :)
93 notes · View notes
Text
q.... how does one go about informing/reaching out to people about having suicidal thoughts
3 notes · View notes
maxmayfieldirl · 2 years
Text
WAIT HOLD THE FUCK UP!!
IF YOU LOVE SOMEONE WHY WOULD YOU BE AFRAID OF LOSING THEM BC UR NOT COOL ENOUGH
IF YOU TRULY LOVED EACH OTHER, THAT WOULDN'T MATTER???
YOU WOULDN'T HAVE TO WORRY ABOUT LOOSING HER BC U LOVE HER AN SHE LOVES YOU.
SHE FUCKING SAID IT MIKE. SHE BEGGED YOU TO SAY IT BACK SO WHY WOULD SHE LEAVE YOU
WHAT ARE YOU SO AFRAID OF MIKE
MICHAEL WHEELER I AM DELUSIONAL AND I WILL NEVER FORGET WHAT YOU ARE
10 notes · View notes
bluepoodle7 · 6 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
#Nicktoons #Kablam #ThatWeirdCartoonShortWithTheGrossChip #TheLittleFreaks #WeirdAnswerKommand #WAK#MyThoughts
I remember seeing The Little Freaks and the WAK ones mainly after Invader Zim.
I thought the chip short was from the little freaks short.
Images not mine but links are there.
WAK (Weird Answer Kommand) - Determine How Many Potato Chips an Individual Can Eat - YouTube
The Little Freaks - YouTube
0 notes
rafeandonlyrafe · 8 months
Text
bad f*cking friend: part 1
Tumblr media
words: 2.3k
warnings: 18+ only, smut, male masturbation
part 2 part 3
rafe wakes up in the middle of the night, unsure of what caused the sudden jolt that shook his body. he waits for a noise, for a light, something that gives away what disrupted his slumber, but he finds nothing.
his eyes dart to your side of the bed. he had almost forgotten you were sharing it with him, until his ears picked up your deep breathing, clearly still asleep, so you weren’t the cause of him being awake right now. his eyes flutter closed, feeling the warmth from your body even though you’re a foot away. it’s radiating under the covers, enticing him to get closer, but he knows he can’t.
it was a fluke, a mistake made by the hotel. the room that should have contained two queen beds contained just one king, and all other rooms were full for the night. you shrugged and said you could share. you’d done it before, afterall, but not since you were kids. before you had grown taller, fuller, before you transformed in front of your best friends eyes from an awkward little girl with pigtails and braces to a beautiful woman, with piercing eyes and an ample body.
it’s what makes sharing the bed different this time. rafe is supposed to be your friend, but the thoughts that infect his mind when he’s around you now are anything but friendly.
rafe realizes, now that he’s thinking of you, the reason why he woke up in the night with the room cast in darkness, only a dull light coming in from the moon and stars of the open curtain. you’re on the fifth floor after all, no one can see us. that’s what you’d said to him, in your sickly sweet voice that makes rafe want to kiss you and more until he knows what that voice sounds like calling his name in pleasure.
his hand snakes down his torso, he briefly imagines it’s yours, but then shakes his head. bad friend, he thinks to himself. he presses his hand over the crotch of his pajama pants, feeling how hard he is, so hard it’s painful. you’ve taken all of the comforter in the night, and rafe can see himself. see the way he’s straining against the material.
the blood supposed to be supplying his brain, making him make good, rash decisions, must have all flooded south, because before he can help himself, rafes hand is down his pants, underneath his boxers, and wrapped firmly around his shaft. he almost lets out a groan, but settles for a light sigh in relief instead, eyes flickering over to you, making sure you don’t move.
he can’t help it. it’s your scent, it’s the knowledge that you’re right there next to him. that underneath the covers keeping you warm, is your flimsy excuse for pajamas. a loose shirt that falls just right on your breasts that theres no guessing whether you are wearing a bra or not, the answer is clearly no, the outline of your nipples visible no matter how you adjust the shirt to lay over you. and then the shorts. rafe is positive they only cover an inch, no more than that, more than your underwear does. they’re tiny.
a thought suddenly races through rafes head, making him give one firm, steady stroke of his cock. are you even wearing underwear?
it’s too much for rafe. he knows he should get up. he knows he should just finish himself off in the bathroom, not right here where you could look over at any time and see his hands down his pants. he takes a deep breath and pulls his hand out, even though his cock is still begging for attention. 
“y/n.” he says softly, a whisper his own ears barely pick up. “y/n.” he repeats your name slightly louder, looking for movement on your side, but it’s all still, just the gentle up and down of your chest rising and falling with each breath.
rafe lets out a mental curse. bad fucking idea. but his hands are moving faster than his mind is, pushing his pants down just enough to reach in, releasing himself from the confines of the cotton. his eyes stay on you even as he wraps a hand around the base of his cock. it’s partly to make sure you don’t wake, that your eyelids don’t even flutter, and if they do that he can tuck himself back into his sweats before you see. but the other part, the bigger part, is that he’s thinking of you.
bad fucking idea. bad fucking friend. but as his hand strokes up and down, his eyes and his mind stay on you. he thinks of the first time he realized you’d grown up. it was on his dad’s boat. rafe took you and a couple other friends to swim, and when you whipped off your cover up to reveal the almost indecent bikini underneath, rafe felt a feeling rush through him that he never imagined he could have had about you. pure, almost uncontainable, lust. 
he had shook it off that day when you looked at him and teased him. it reminded him that you’re his childhood friend, not a woman to be lusted after, not a woman he should masturbate to. he threw himself at your friend that you brought on the boat with you. it was wrong, and he imagined you the whole time, but he fucked her that day, back at tanneyhill after you went home. he fucked her so deep into his mattress, pressing her face into the pillow and plowing her from behind. but she didn’t have your same hair color, didn’t have your soft waist or grabbable hips.
your hips. rafes hand speeds up, thinking about touching them. about laying his hands over them, about squeezing them. 
his eyes flutter closed as he pictures what your ass would look like uncovered by material. what lies in between your thighs, what he’d do anything to get any part of him on, his fingers, his tongue, his cock. what your face would look like twisted in pleasure. how you would moan, and he would be the cause of it.
rafe’s eyes snap open, regretting closing them as you rustle, turning to face him. rafe holds his cock at the base, ready to tuck it in, to hide it in shame, but while he can’t see your face now that it’s hidden in shadow, you fall still again. rafe lets out a silent prayer to whatever is keeping you asleep right now, wondering if you’re dreaming of him since you’ve plagued his dreams for the past few years. sometimes it’s innocent. holding your hand, hugging you, but most of the time his dreams of you cause him to wake up in a puddle of sweat and rush to take a cold shower. it all seemed so real, how he’d fuck you against the wall while you whine for him, trying to keep quiet. how he’d bend you over a countertop, or get down on your knees for him. but those are just dreams.
his hand starts to move again, satisfied that you’ve been still and quiet for long enough that theres no way you are awake, even if he can’t check your eyes. surely you would have said something if you were awake. surely you would have been shocked by his hard dick, standing at attention in the moonlight and let out some sort of noise, some sort of gasp. but his ears didn’t pick anything up.
his cock is pulsing in pleasure. it’s not the first time he’s masturbated to you, but he’s never done it with you so dangerously close. it’s thrilling, thinking of you waking up, of catching him. what your response would be. would you sink your lips down on his cock, would you watch in fascination, would you turn away in disgust? 
the first time rafe masturbated to the thought of you was kind of on accident. you posted a photodump on instagram and tagged him in one of the pictures, and the notification popped up midway through a masturbation session where he was very studiously keeping you out his thoughts, focusing on the porn pulled up on his phone. sure, the actress looked like you, but that certainly wasn’t why he picked it, at least that’s what he was trying to convince himself of at the time. he clicked the notification and cummed before he swiped through all the slides when there was one of you in a swimsuit, lying on a towel with a book on your stomach, clearly going to be picked right back up and continued to be read once the photo was taken.
your legs were slightly ajar, so rafe could see a peak of material between your thighs, and that was where his eyes had focused when he burst, cumming harder and longer than he ever had before. 
he continued to jerk off to you after that, no point denying to himself anymore the effect you have on him, but he tried not to look at your pictures. he liked the image of you in his head, like he could separate the real you, his friend, the one he’s known since kindergarten, with the naked, impassioned person of his daydreams.
rafe lets out a moan before he can help himself. it’s quiet, would have been barely audible if there was any other noise in the room, but even the highway outside the hotel has gone quiet. he keeps himself more alert now, not letting himself get lost in the lust, lost in the way his thumb swipes over the head of his cock, imagining it’s your tongue against tip.
he needs to get off, desperately, he knows that there’s no stopping it now, but he needs to do it quickly and quietly, already risking so much, especially now that you’re facing him. you could blink your eyes open at any point.
rafe goes faster. he hates not being allowed to draw out his pleasure. it’s shameful how long he spends masturbating when it’s to the thought of you. when other people would be on their phones, winding down watching tv or scrolling through social media. rafe is on his bed, eyes squeezed shut, hand around his cock and you on his mind. 
he thought once about telling you. confessing, maybe not that he’s been spurting white all over his bedsheets to the thought of you for the past year, but at least his attraction, but when you came over the next day to hang out, you thanked him for always being such a good friend as he listened to you complain about your annoying college professor, and rafe knew he couldn’t say anything. he couldn’t betray you, sweet, innocent you, the one who not just wanted his friendship, but needed it. 
rafes breathing increases in speed, panting as he brings one hand to grip the bed sheets. he is about to cum, so close to letting himself go, but then he realizes he can’t just let himself go over his own pants, visible for you in the morning sun to see the white stains, so his hand slows. he wants to groan out, he almost wants to cry, feeling a bite of tears in his eyes, but he holds them back.
not knowing a better solution, he is as silent as he can be as he takes his shirt off, cringing at every rustle of the fabric as he takes it off. he drops it into a heap on the mattress next to his hip, ready to grab and collect everything. he will just pass off being shirtless in the morning as getting too hot in the night. 
his hand returns to his cock, hips raising slightly to meet his strokes, grateful that this hotel mattress isn’t squeaking and revealing how bad of a friend he’s being to you right now. rafe swears he hears you make a little sound, but it must just be a sleep noise as you remain still.
he imagines you loud, so loud that you’re screaming for him as his hands are on either side of your head, his hips driving into yours, grinding down onto your clit. he imagines his lips pressing against yours, swallowing your sounds of pleasure as you cum together, your body lifting upwards, pressing against his.
it’s the thought of finishing together, with himself pushed as deeply inside of you as your body allows, that has him cumming, free hand grabbing his shirt and throwing it over his cock to catch his cum. he bites his lip hard to stay quiet, tasting the metallic tang of blood, releasing his lip with a quiet gasp of your name as his orgasm reaches it’s peak. his hand has to slow suddenly as he becomes overly sensitive.
his last thought before he releases his cock from his grip is of you laying on the bed, legs spread with thighs glistening, cunt leaking, breathing heavily with closed eyes from pure satisfaction of the love making session rafe just gave you. 
he stays like that for a moment, just breathing with that thought in his head, your hair splayed on the pillow, mouth ajar, forehead sweaty, but eventually he has to pick up his shirt, making sure everything is clean on his body as he crumples it up, keeping all of his cum inside so that you’ll never know his dirty little secret. he hisses quietly as he tucks himself back into his pants.
now that the sudden thing that pulled him awake is taken care of, sleep is quick to take back over, whole world turning to black. rafe lets out a smile right before sleep takes him, knowing his dreams are again going to be of you.
part 2
697 notes · View notes
soulaires · 6 months
Note
cardan greenbriar headcanons
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
I would still adore you with your hands around my neck.
ꨄ︎ He is brutally and unapologetically mean when you first met, he doesn’t really ‘bully’ but makes it clear he HATES you (snickering/laughing w his friends whenever you are in sight or gives backhanded and sarcastic comments )
ꨄ︎ you don’t really entertain him most of the time which drove him MAD he doesn’t really understand why he’s craving for your attention so bad
ꨄ︎ he couldn’t really understand that he liked you o he’s just mean, he doesn’t know how to get your attention without the full on teasing
ꨄ︎ whenever you respond to his teasing, your words cut him like a knife (you hurt his ego, he hurt your pride 🤷‍♀️)
ꨄ︎ the moment he realized he likes you, he just deny, deny, deny, deny.
ꨄ︎ he absolutely hates the way how much he wants you, hates the way he craves for you, your presence, your touch dearly and hates the way he badly want to shut you up by a kiss
ꨄ︎ when he saw you kissed locke, he get irritated and finally starting to accept it
you are currently in a garden, reading a book when suddenly the bane of your existence voice greeted you,
“why did you fucking kissed locke??” Cardan marched towards you as he settled in front of you, you stood up, preparing to leave but he caught your arms.
“I ask you a question, princess. Answer it.” He remarked, the gap between you two is a bit close than ever.
“None of your business, royal highness.” You mocked.
“Why? Why does it have to be him? You have a terrible taste.”
“He’s a good kisser, I would not lie.” you try to get under his skin
“No, he Isn’t.” He argued
“Why do you always have to disagree to everything I say???”
“Because, my dear, If I agree with you, then both of us would be wrong.”
“You drive me crazy, Greenbriar.”
“How crazy?” He mused. “Show me how mad I drive you.”
you rolled your eyes as you start to wak out but cardan was quick to corner you in a tree, your heart is racing, tension is thick and yu could not breath.
he seems to caught onto that as he smirks, “my, my, my, darling, why is your heart racing so fast when I haven’t even touch you, hm?”
you can feel your cheeks heet up as yu raises your eyebrow, “and how would you even know that?”
he grabs your hand and put it on his chest, “because mine is.”
You let your arms away from his beating heart as if it burns you, “you should go.” you breathed out. “Yeah, you should definitely go, cardan.” You distanced yourself but not far enough from him.
“Go where, sweatheart?” his face is much more closer to yours, “here?” You can feel his breath on your shoulder. “Or maybe here?” It moved up to your neck.
“ca—cardan.” You stuttered. You fucking stuttered. You heard him chuckled and moved up to your ear
“Kiss me.” you heard his hoarse voice whispers to your ear.
“What?” Your eyes went wide as you backed away.
“I said, kiss me. Kiss me until I am sick of it. Kiss me until his taste is out of your lips, kiss me until all you can taste is me. Kiss me.” he begs. All cardan could only think was that he needed you. Needed to taste you, to have his arms around you, to hold you. He could not think straight. “please.”
“Shut up.” You said as you kissed him. Kissed him. You have no excuse for it, not a accidental, forced to, nada. You kissed him.
Cardan quickly melts into the kiss as he tugs you closer. His tongue swept along with your lips and you granted him the permission he craved. It drove him crazy. He dreamed of this very moment, of you, every damned night. Thought about it every hour, about how you would taste, it was a question and answer , a beginning to an end. Cardan Greenbriar could stay like this forever, with you in his arms, with your fingers on his hair. With your lips on his. He devoured you, tasting every bit of you and you heard his desperate whine.
You pulled away but he chased your lips. You guys stared at each other. “I–“ “this never happened.” You are quick to shut him off as you scurried away.
ꨄ︎ he drown himself with alcohol that night.
ꨄ︎ he tried to talk to you but was unsuccessful
ꨄ︎ one day, he had enough and planned to corner you
ꨄ︎ he finally caught on to you
“Lets talk. Stop running away from me.”
“No.”
“Yes.” He argued “stop being stubborn.”
“That was a mistake.”
“Is it?”
“Yes. A mistake that shall never repeat again.”
“Don’t say that.” His voice shakes
“Let’s forget it happened—“
“Again, it hurt me, princess. It hurt me.” Again.
“It’s probably for the best!” You burst out
“No, it is not! Will you please stop driving me crazy?”
“I wanted this—you for so long and im not losing the chance. You have no idea how i wanted this. The way you look at me... I want you to know what it does to me. I want you to feel it. Feel how crazy you make me.”
You went silent as you stepped closer to him, “show me, cardan.” You whispered and he did.
ꨄ︎ now that you guys are dating he became more protective of you, always looking out for you.
ꨄ︎ he would start the next Trojan War for you if you are not in his line of sight
ꨄ︎ oh boy he is CLINGYYYY
ꨄ︎ he calls you lots of pet names like “my queen, love, my love, my darling, sweetheart, angel etc.
ꨄ︎ writes you letters and poem!
ꨄ︎ he’s a sassy man.
ꨄ︎ He loves saying I love yous
ꨄ︎ gorgeous flowers every time!!!
ꨄ︎ his tail unashamedly wrapped around you every time
ꨄ︎ especially when he’s jealous possessive
405 notes · View notes
heliads · 8 months
Note
Hi!! I miss your Derek fics so much so how’s one where you and him are in a casual relationship if yk what I mean when all of a sudden there’s a mishap that causes him to pull away and end up ghosting you because he caught feelings and is terrified of them, you still try to get in contact with him but got tired of it and that’s when Derek comes back basically begging for a chance to fix it🥺
masterlist
Tumblr media
Derek Hale knows he’s gone too far because he’s no longer nervous waking up to hear someone else’s heartbeat next to him. Derek stays alone, always; it saves him the trouble of having to think about saving someone other than himself if he ever wakes up to another roaring inferno. Derek is good at being alone. It’s never something he’s struggled with, even as a lone wolf without a pack. He still talks to other people on occasion. It’s fine.
He’d thought it was fine. Derek had almost gotten to the point of convincing himself of it, and then he started making mistakes like entertaining himself with someone else, and by the time it occurred to him that he was long past the point of no return, there was no way he could ever end it. So he lives with it, it’s fine. Until it isn’t.
Derek Hale has never been the type to get caught up over a girl. He did it once, then swore it would never happen again. There is the idea of Derek, the lone wolf; Derek, the man with a heart colder than ice. He wouldn’t go so far as to describe himself as a womanizer, but he’s dated not one but two of the women who’ve tried to kill him and the other wolves in town, so maybe he should start thinking about raising his standards.
He did, though. That was the problem. Of all the people in this world, good and bad and outright bloodthirsty, Derek found the one woman capable of waltzing right past his best defenses and laying claim to the very organ he thought would never be bothered with again. Derek has long since assumed that, so long as it keeps beating on schedule, he’d never think about his heart unless someone was actively ripping it out of his chest, but Y/N changed that. She changed everything.
It was nothing at first. That’s what he promised himself the first time he woke up in an unfamiliar room that definitely wasn’t in his apartment complex. He nearly jumped out of his skin when he picked up on the sound of someone else breathing evenly next to him, but Y/N had woken up not long after him so they’d been able to talk things through. They’d both agreed that it was a one time thing, the result of years of rising tensions against supernaturals in Beacon Hills, and would never happen again.
The second time, Derek was no less taken aback, but a little more disappointed in himself. Usually, when he makes his word, he sticks to it for longer than a month. He’d left before she woke up that time. Didn’t stop him from crawling back, though. He can blame it on the alcohol that doesn’t affect him, the battle rush of adrenaline he’s long since learned to master. Excuses are easy. Falling is easier still.
Derek doesn’t fall, though. He won’t. Even if it kills him. Especially if it kills him. Derek can lock himself up and cut away his heart and distrust his mind until any conceivable feeling dies off from lack of oxygen. It wouldn’t be the first time. Somehow, he doubts it’ll be the last.
This is all well and good, but it doesn’t work as well as it should. Even now, blinking the last of the past night’s sleep from his eyes, Derek sits up slowly in his own bed, and the sight of Y/N there next to him isn’t surprising. Not at all. His internal alarm system stopped going off around her a long time ago. Hell, he gets more uneasy the longer he goes without seeing her instead of the other way around.
A year ago, he would have called that a mistake. Hales survive because they trust only each other. Y/N may be an ally in this eternally war-torn town, but that does not make her someone he can afford to keep around. Still, when he carefully lifts himself out of bed to avoid waking her, when she comes out of the room about half an hour later in one of his shirts, when Derek can’t quite tell where her perfume ends and his cologne begins, he wonders to himself if he hasn’t already crossed that line a very long time ago.
It doesn’t matter. None of this is real. He doesn’t make her breakfast, she doesn’t say goodbye. They just go about their lives as if the past night had never happened at all, as if none of the nights before that, all stretching out in one vast line of pale, bedsheet-white dominoes do not exist between them. You cannot topple what you do not see, and Derek’s eyes are snapped shut tight.
He’s started noticing things, though, against his better judgment. The furrows in Y/N’s brow vanish while she’s asleep, but they appear again when she looks around at her house or his in the morning and remembers something she’ll never tell him. Her shoulders always rise and pinch together right before she leaves without a word. Derek has started making himself scarce whenever she wakes up. It’s better for both of them if there’s no opportunity to stay any longer.
Most of all, Derek takes care to ensure that whatever happens at night does not affect either of them during the day. Y/N’s more closely allied with the McCall pack than whatever dregs are left of Derek’s ill-gotten attempt to seize power with his own batch of betas, but he still sees her often enough on wolf business. Derek has no doubt that Scott has caught on to the fact that they’re seeing each other, but neither of them will bring it up so long as it doesn’t become a problem.
A couple of times, Derek has felt Scott’s eyes on him like an accusation, burning holes into his shoulders whenever Y/N shows up late or seems listless during the discussions. Derek wants to throw up his hands and declare to anyone who cares to listen or blame him that he’s doing his best to make sure he isn’t the cause, but he doubts any of the younger pack members want to know that he’s specifically trimming off any stem of feeling before it takes root. He’s doing his best, at least. Surely that counts for something.
Still, he can feel their judgment like a plague, even outside of passing glimpses. When Scott McCall shows up at Derek’s door to ask for his help with a sudden hunter shootout at the hospital, Derek can still see the awareness in the back of the kid’s eyes. Y/N’s got her own thing going, Derek wants to clarify, she’s long past school-crush days just like him. They’re both adults and they can do what they please. High school sweethearts all die by hunters’ arrows. The ones who survive don’t play by the rules.
Scott will never bring it up, though, so Derek won’t, either. Instead, he just accompanies Scott to the hospital, where he slashes and stabs at anyone who tries to shoot at him. These sorts of things are becoming normal occurrences by now; Melissa McCall and the other doctors are probably sick of it, but what can you do?
Derek’s only half paying attention. He focuses enough to keep himself alive, but it’s easy to go on autopilot. The hunters will always attack, and they will always defend. Some will get hurt. They’ll heal in time to start the game over again. Nothing new.
It should be nothing new. It is, until Derek rounds a corner and he sees one of the hunters shooting at Y/N’s back. She’s distracted taking out someone else. She won’t react in time, Derek knows it, he can feel it in his bones like a bad frost, and Derek– he actually screams, a guttural shout of despair, and he hurls himself at the hunter. The gun goes flying out of the guy’s hands and into a corner of the room, blood spatters following it a second later. It’s alright again. Y/N is fine.
Y/N, actually, is staring at him in confusion. “What was that about?” She asks slowly.
Derek catches a hazy glimpse of himself in the glass panel of a nearby door and realizes that he looks mad. His eyes are wide, startled, glowing; his claws are out and dripping with gore. “He was going to shoot you,” he says, a little unsteadily, “You weren’t paying attention.”
She shakes her head slowly. “I was, Derek. His gun was empty. No more bullets left, I heard the empty barrel click a minute ago.”
Derek stares at her uncomprehendingly, and Y/N has to cross the room, pick up the fallen hunter’s weapon, and pull the trigger several times until Derek understands. She was right, no ammunition was shot. It was a complete misfire on his end, and something that he should have picked up on far before he decided to strike. If Y/N could hear that the gun was empty from across the room, Derek should have known it from where he stood.
He knows what this means, then. It means he’s making mistakes, and mistakes get you killed. They get everyone killed. Derek hasn’t made a mistake like this in a long time, because he never let anyone in, but he has now, hasn’t he? He’s known it for a long time. Y/N means far more to him than a prolonged one night stand. He has feelings for her, of a depth he couldn’t decipher if given a thousand years trapped inside his own head. Derek Hale has fallen in love, but this love will destroy him. It will make him weak.
And, fuck, Derek knows how this is going to end. How it always ends. He is a fire, consuming everything in his path; burning down his family home; choking the last breath from the lungs of anyone foolish enough to love him. If Y/N realizes that he loves her, if she does something so terrible as to love him back, she will fall before the year is out. They always do, and it will be his fault again, his fault like it was for all the others.
He moves before he knows what he’s doing. Y/N is calling after him, he thinks, but Derek is already rounding the corner and out of the hallway. Hunters in his path are killed by a wolf that might be Derek, if Derek was aware enough of what he was doing to act on anything more than animal instinct. Instead, he just keeps going like a bloodsoaked robot until Scott tells him it’s over, and then he leaves. He does not check in with the rest of the pack. He does not check in with Y/N.
In fact, he does not speak with her again. She tries texting him afterwards to see if he’s alright, and then even shows up at his door when he’s unresponsive for days, but Derek just waits silently in the confines of his apartment until she goes away. She can probably hear his heartbeat, but it doesn’t matter. This will benefit both of them. Neither Derek nor Y/N can afford an attachment like this. He’s already started slipping up in the heat of battle. Who knows what sort of deadly error he will commit next?
If he thought the McCall pack’s judgment was bad enough before, they’re downright diabolical now. He can’t speak to them without being on the receiving end of a thousand hateful stares. Every time he so much as crosses their path, you’d think he murdered their entire family. It’s unreal. Don’t they know he’s doing this for the best? 
It’s not like Derek enjoys this, anyway. It’s unnatural. He’s started waking up at odd hours of the night, reaching out for someone who isn’t there. Derek rises with the sun and stares at the empty other half of the bed. He starts to get up quietly and then remembers that there’s no one around who’s still sleeping, so he can be as loud as he pleases. It feels wrong when the floor creaks.
He’s started creeping closer to the door whenever Y/N stops by. He hovers right by the threshold, listening; he can tell by the inflections of her voice that she’s starting to give up hope, and then she stops coming. When a week goes by without a single word from her, Derek thinks that he should be pleased because he’s finally saved her from himself, but instead, all he feels is alone.
It’s not a good feeling, this. Derek thought he would be able to shake off any and all feelings for her in a matter of weeks, but even a month later, he’s still in a terrible state. Lydia starts taking pity on him, he thinks, and actually treats him like a normal human being again, which kind of makes it all worse. He doesn’t want her compassion. He wants–
He wants Y/N. Waking up alone again, hands curling into fists around empty sheets, Derek realizes the earth-shattering truth as if from a dream. He wants her. He wants her more than anything. If this is safety, Derek doesn’t want it. He hates not knowing if she’s alright. He hates thinking that he might have hurt her. If this is the cost of keeping them both alive, Derek would rather be dead.
He throws on his clothes, headed towards the door in a flash. He wakes up early, always has; if he can just get over to her place before she leaves to go to work, maybe it would be okay– maybe she would still want him– maybe he would be enough, now that he knows without a shadow of a doubt that she is for him–
Y/N doesn’t open her door at first, which is, admittedly, justified. Derek’s cheeks flush with shame remembering all the times he’d pointedly ignored her visits. However, she’s better than him, always has been, and opens the door eventually. He looks at her, breathes out at last, and says– “I miss you.”
Y/N arches a brow. “You do?”
“I do,” Derek repeats, “And I’ve been– stupid, really, and I shouldn’t have been. I know better than that.”
Y/N folds her arms across her chest. “What made you change your mind?”
“I realized I love you,” Derek says. It’s only five words, but it makes Y/N sway as if she’s been shot.
“You’re just saying that,” she whispers faintly.
Derek shakes her head. “I’m not the type to throw those words around. You know that. You know me better than anyone, Y/N. Tell me if I’m lying.”
He waits. She stares at him, but at last she nods slowly, and says, “You love me?”
“I love you,” he affirms. Then: “Can I come in?”
A ghost of a smile haunts her lips. “Always so forward, aren’t you?”
He laughs a little, actually. It surprises both of them, Derek the most. “I thought you liked that about me.”
“I do,” she admits, and steps aside to let him pass. Derek lingers by her side, he can’t help it. Moments like these were meant to be treasured. He may have messed up too many of them to count, but for once, Derek can start again. He intends to make the most of it.
teen wolf tag list: @mayfieldss, @rogueanschel, @lovesanimals0000, @rafecameronswhore, @bellabadacadabra, @watchreadfangirlrepeat, @23victoria
all tags list: @wordsarelife
452 notes · View notes
yuri-is-online · 11 months
Text
It's Not Going Away (First Years x Yuu)
Tumblr media
The subtle, sweet scent of flowers shakes you gently awake, but to your surprise you lack the strength to move. It's like your entire body is made of lead and your throat is filled with sand. A vague memory of telling Grim you didn't feel well before... well you thought you were just taking a nap, but there's person holding your hand who would never speak to you like this if he knew you could soon wake up.
notes: they/them pronouns used for Yuu, angst brought by denial, technically sick fic? Inspired by the op to Horimiya, which can be listened to here (x). References for flower language were taken from here and here. If you like this feel free to check out my masterlist for more fic.
Tumblr media
Rose, Great Maiden's Blush
"Seriously, what am I going to do with you?" The voice belongs to Ace, you'd recognize him anywhere, but it's strangely strained. If you had the strength to move you would slap him, but then you would need to let go of his hand. It's warm, comforting, a bit rough from basketball and tending the roses, and fills you with happiness. Ace would probably make fun of you if he knew how badly you wanted this, take away his hand with a look of disgust and stick out his tongue. "Just kidding~" That's how your dynamic has been ever since he first asked to crash on your couch, two steps forward into something more, one leap back into the safe zone. "You know I'm not always going to be around to take care of you, yeah? One of these days you are gonna go home and leave me, whose going to look out for you then?" He lets go of your hand and you want to scream for him to stay, but feel the fever settling you back into sleep. "You'll be ok, I know that. You don't need me as much as I want you to, so-" He touches your cheek, caressing it so tenderly you want to keep him there forever but he doesn't bother to finish his thought.
But by the time you are able to wake up he's long gone, the only thing suggesting it wasn't a dream a vase full of roses he's definitely going to brush off as lame. That's assuming he brought them in the first place, you have never seen these flowers in the Heartslabyul garden. Maybe you were just being too hopeful, you think to yourself as you lean your still warm hand against your painfully beating heart.
(if you do love me you will find me out)
Rose, Tea
"Hey don't you think you might be hurting the prefect?" The person holding your hand has it in a tight grip, but it isn't uncomfortable. far from it, you feel wanted, secure in someone's appreciation. That voice belongs to Ace, you think that makes the hand your holding Deuce, but he's refusing to respond verbally and confirming your suspicions. The silence fills the room for an uncomfortably long time, even for you, you're grateful when Ace decides to break it. "Deuce-"
"We're not doing this now." His grip on you hand loosens, but he still keeps it near. You can tell Deuce's fighting to keep his cool. "They ar-"
"You're always talking about the future like they'll be there." Ace snaps, careful to dull his voice but not his point. "Don't get me wrong, I wouldn't mind laughing at you two losers forever, but have you even thought about what your future will look like if they aren't there?"
"I can't. And don't act like you don't know that already." There's movement in the room, you think Ace tries to get Deuce to leave with him but he doesn't budge. He takes your hand again as the door clicks closed, moving to cradle it in both of his with such care it's hard to believe these are the same fists you've seen busting up jaws for breaking some eggs. "I'm sorry you had to hear that." he whispers, but you're unsure if he knows your awake or if he is just speaking to fill the silence "You can go back to sleep now, I'll be here when you wake up I promise." You have no choice but to take him at his word, settling into your bed and hoping you will have the courage to face each other when you wake.
(i'll remember always)
Spider Flower
There's only ever one. For his father and mother, for his grandfather and grandmother, so long as there have been wolves in the mountains they have only ever sought out one partner for the rest of their lives. But you aren't programmed like that, you said as much when the boys started gossiping about their preferences during that whole ghost bride event. "I'd like a soulmate, I just don't think I have one." And you meant it really, you were sure Jack would meet someone like him that would be perfect for him one day. So why is there a fluffy head resting next to you? Why is a tail draped over your legs, you want to believe protectively but you can't bring yourself to open your eyes and check.
"I swear it's like I'm in love with the moon." Jack grumbles into your side. "No matter how loud I howl you can't hear me and act like I'm not on your radar at all." That's not true, he's all you can think about sometimes, you just wanted to spare his feelings since it couldn't be possible for him to love you back. "Maybe I was wrong that I didn't have to worry about winning you over..." His tail wraps up closer to your waist and you try to snuggle closer into him. He'll ask you later, maybe when you wake up or maybe even later than that, but he has to ask. You might be out of reach, but that's only if he does not try. The flowers at your bedside have a specific meaning, he made sure to ask Vil for help just this once, though if the message doesn't make it through he supposes he can ask again.
(elope with me)
Alyssum
Warmth leaves your body as the person who has been holding your hand gently lets it go, setting it on your chest as he pats it and begins to hum an unfamiliar tune. The familiar shlick of a knife through an apple sets a scene you can't open your eyes to see, for someone so hot headed, Epel seems remarkably calm right now. "I wonder if it's ok for me ta look at you like this..." or maybe he wasn't. "I mean I have seen you sleeping before when I put you under my spell, but this is a bit different. Would be nicer if it was under different circumstances..." He pauses in his carving, studying you for any sign that you could be awake and poking your cheek a few times to try and wake you, pouting when you don't immediately rise. "You know I was really happy when I found my signature spell. I wanted to protect you so badly, and for so long I was convinced I couldn't. I thought if I could just get stronger, and taller I would be able to-" There's a weight next to you on the bed now, it sounds like Epel has put his head in his hands and resolved himself to stare you down until you wake up. "But I don't think you'll be around long enough for me to reach the point I wanted to before telling you anything." You manage to stir slightly, and are rewarded with startled noises from Epel that give way to disappointed relief when you realize actually getting up is just a task too much for you right now. As if he realizes this, Epel reaches out to squeeze your hand before returning to his apples. The strange song makes its way to his lips once more, but this time he softly gives it words.
There's a note left for you alongside the flowers, telling you to drink water and that there's a bunch of apples in your fridge that you absolutely have to eat. It's some of his best work he says and you can't help but wonder if he doesn't just mean the carving.
(worth beyond beauty)
Gladioli
“I’m not quite sure when I started to see you differently, just know I feel like a fool for my prior behavior." The letters hadn't been signed, but you had an inkling who they were from. In place of a picture every third one was accompanied by the exact same flower, you thought it was cute how well Sebek thought he was covering his tracks. It would be nice if he was the one holding your hand, but that couldn't be. He was too loud, if he was here then you would know. Even his unsigned letters were loudly and proudly him, mercifully free of praise for Malleus though they were. "You shine like dew on a rose, for your praise I go to lengths that surprise myself. Some say I am foolish, most call me single minded and in your presence I cannot protest those sentiments. Given your circumstances, it would be selfish of me to ask for your patience, but I must. I must ask for your patience until I can ask you aloud." You were content to be patient with him, if you weren't you never would have been friends in the first place. The person holding your hand gives it a final squeeze, though he pulls away slowly, trying to savor every last bit of illicit contact he can.
When you are finally able to move a familiar sort of flower around your room, once again someone is trying to be romantic and failing to cover his tracks. Once again he is refusing to face you, out of fear or shame you do not know. You gently pick at the petals, trying to divine just what it is you think Sebek wants to say, not just what you want it to mean.
(i am really sincere)
Tumblr media
511 notes · View notes
momotonescreaming · 1 month
Text
morning sun (and warm cotton sheets)
Rating: M | WC: 9k | Steve/Eddie Established Relationship, Morning After, Kissing
Eddie drifted into waking slowly, sleepily, by the warmth of the sun starting to stream through the crack in the curtain. It took the chill out of the room, the light of it hitting his bare back. It was nice — there was no blaring of his alarm dragging him out of sleep, no cold of winter forcing him to retreat under the comforters.
Instead it was warm, and calm, and still early, so Eddie let himself shut his eyes again. Rolling out the stiffness in his back as he snuggled down further into bed.
The sheets were soft — impossibly soft — as they were fancy ones Steve said they should splurge on because ‘just trust me, Baby’. And he was right, of course. He also grew up a rich kid, but whatever. The sheets were soft, and felt nice, and they made Steve give out his happy smile when Eddie said he loved them, actually. They hung loose around Eddie’s waist, gently brushing his bare skin, and he made no move to pull them up.
Sue him, he was comfortable. And if the sheets slipped down — exposing his pale ass, the hickeys littering his thighs —  then no harm done. The only person around to see is Steve, and Eddie didn’t think he’d mind, considering he gave them to him.
Eddie blinked, letting the light slowly flood his vision, turning head towards Steve’s side of the bed. It’s empty, sheets rumpled, still warm. It’s not a surprise, and Eddie’s not worried. His boyfriend has always been an insufferable morning person.
He reaches out to Steve’s side of the bed, instinctually, automatically, and pulls himself over to the warm spot Steve left behind. If he inhales, presses his nose to the sheets, Eddie swears he can still smell Steve. His cologne, his sweat, him. Eddie shuffles into a more comfortable position, snuggling down into Steve’s pillows and the dent he’s left in the mattress.
Curling his arms around his head, resting them there, using them to prop himself up slightly — Eddie turns his head to look at their now open bedroom door. He’s still lying stomach down in bed, sheets now tangled around his legs and slung low over his waist. If he moves, stretches — and he knows this for a fact — he’ll start to feel the ache in his back, his thighs, his ass; from his time with Steve last night. So he doesn’t move. Lets himself get enveloped by the warmth of the room, the soft sheets, and peers through his folded arms for any signs of his boyfriend.
The hallway light is on, the bathroom door propped open, so he knows Steve is still home. Good. Eddie likes to say goodbye to him before he leaves the house, no matter how early it is, no matter how late they stayed up last night. Likes the confirmation of his presence, that he’s been there, that he’ll be back. He was the same with Wayne, back in Hawkins. The two Munsons were always leaving each other notes and knocking on doors to say goodbye to the other.
Of course it didn’t go away with Steve. And Steve was always so nice about it, understanding. He had his own hang ups of course, so he got it. So whenever Steve had to leave the apartment, he’d find Eddie and say goodbye, cradle his cheek and give him a kiss. Leave him a note if he wanted to let Eddie sleep.
Today, Eddie can’t see Steve, but he can hear him, ever so faintly. The sound echoing out of the open bathroom door. The sound of rushing water, Steve’s voice starting to rise over the sound of the shower. He’s starting to sing, ever so faintly. Eddie can’t quite tell what it is, but it makes him smile.
He sounds happy, content, letting himself sing in the shower. So Eddie lets himself doze off again, tendrils of sleep wrapping around hid mind and drifting him back down again, listening to sounds of Steve’s singing. It’s the sweet, lazy sort of domesticity that Eddie thought he’d never get. Lazy mornings where he doesn’t have to rush off to work, or a deal, or run errands because something broke again. He can sleep in, can wake up and choose not to get out of bed, soothed by the sweet sounds of his boyfriend singing in the shower.
[Read the rest on Ao3]
112 notes · View notes
ultralightpoe · 2 years
Text
Nightmares - Aemond Targaryen
Authors Note: a SMALL aemond blurb that i wrote. Finding a gif that fit should not be that hard man 
Word Count:885
Warnings:none  Description: THIS WAS A REQUEST 
Tumblr media
Aemond Targaryen had a bad habit of dreaming absolute terrors. 
It wasn’t a habit he bragged about, in fact he kept this to himself most of the time since his mother and brother would probably take it as a sign of weakness. But it was definitely a problem. 
Most nights he didn’t sleep and any night he managed to close his eyes and slip into the world beyond he was drawn back panting and screaming. Tonight was one of those nights. 
He had stayed with you throughout the day and had been so calm from your presence he thought he could slip into his chambers and fall between his sheets without a panicky night. He had been wrong. It was the exact opposite, a dream so brutal he woke in a cold sweat.
He was walking with you through the gardens, just as he did every morning, your hand on his elbow as he smiles down at you. It had never been a secret amongst the court on just how pretty Aemond thought you were. He had even announced such matters on the day of your tourney where he won your hand. 
Ever since he had taken to escorting you anywhere you wished to go, desperate to spend time with you as your wedding was planned by his mother. A walk in the gardens would be considered normal, but something about the day seemed to cling to his skin. 
The clouds were covering the sun, so the flowers seemed to wilt under the harsh shade and the smell of rain just before it hit began to fill his senses. But he persisted on walking with you, claiming that if it would rain that you both would find shelter. 
You said something about how beautiful the roses were, turning away from him to move and pluck one from the stem, Aemond taking this chance to look to another row of flowers before you would find your way back to him. 
But after a moment of no sound he turned to check on where you were, only to find you huddled to the stone ground beneath and sobbing. He is lunging for you in a moment, voice gently asking what had happened as he pried your hands away from his face.
Just as your hands fall you release a violent scream like none he has heard before and show the blood pouring from your eye, an eye that was missing. 
He shouts out for help as his hands come up to cover the wound but you scream and tear away from him, crying as you scream at him over and over. “HOW COULD YOU?!”
Before he knows it he is launching up from his pillow, ragged breaths filling the air as he tried to catch up to his lungs, salt from tears leaking down his cheeks. He has one hand clutched to his chest while the other grips a pillow as he finally catches his breath, shaking a bit as the memory of the dream surfaces.
Before he can truly process what he is doing, Aemond struggles from the bed, grabbing the candle on the nightstand and lighting it before making his way to the secret alcove. Pressing it softly to enter the tunnels within the castle as he follows the chalk path he made along the walls to your room. 
When he finds the hidden entrance he debates for a moment whether this was a good idea, but he needed to see you otherwise he would go mad, so he takes a breath in and presses the door gently as to not make sound. 
He steps in softly, looking around in the dark before he finds your figure laying in the bed, breathing evenly. His entire body relaxes, releasing a sigh of relief as he sees you, moving closer to tuck the hair out of your face. 
He watches you for a moment, loving the peaceful sight of you, before he would move to make his exit as to not wake you. But before he could take two steps away you are moaning as your eyes squint to the dark, a groggy lilt to your voice as your hand reaches out to catch his. “Prince Aemond?”
“Yes my love?” He whispers, heart beating rapidly at having been caught. “I am sorry to wake you, I just had to make sure you were okay.”
You sniffle, wiping your eye as you try desperately to wake up. He kneels down and runs his thumb across your bottom lip, smiling as you kiss it softly before tugging his arm. “What’s wrong?”
You don’t answer, instead you lean to place the candle on your nightstand before tugging him until he is on the bed with you, pulling him into you and wrapping around him. “Then I demand you sleep here.”
“It would be improper.” He argues, though he gets comfortable as he drags you closer, breathing you in as his entire body relaxes into you. 
“You will just have to leave through the secret door you thought I did not know was there.” You smile sleepily, kissing his chest before letting sleep claim you once more. 
Aemond falls asleep with a small smile, and though it was a late start it was still the best sleep he had ever had.
833 notes · View notes
harrysmimi · 2 years
Text
Little By Little
Synopsis: One where Harry finds out his girl is struggling with ED (Requested)
CW: mentions of ED, please put your mental health first and read with caution. And remember, you're not alone in this, you are brave, you are strong. And I love you so much! *Kissie noises*
More of my work
Tumblr media
Harry and YN had been basically living together at this point.
They've been together for about three years and Harry had somehow now managed to convince her to stay over for the weekend and she never left. He certainly isn't complaining because he asked her to stay with him.
But lately he's been seeing her food being left over. Both of them worked, Harry is filming a movie in London and also recording his fourth studio album, YN's working on her little boutique she's so proud of as she should be. So they'd made a little rule of at least eating one meal together, he'd volunteered to make them breakfast every morning (because honestly that's the only meal he can cook without burning down his kitchen) as YN hates early mornings. So he leaves her a plate of her own. Though he waits for her to wake up and get ready for the day before he leaves for work himself. YN has switched to working from home since the Covid hit and has chose to do the same, especially when her firm didn't mind that either, it also gave her time to work on some freelancing as a Photo and Video editor aside from having a desk job a software developer.
Today, Harry was so excited to go home today. He was going to ask her to completely just move in with him. She paid the rent this month for no apparent reason, he just didn't wanted her to waste her earning like that if she's not living at her flat anymore. Or if she changes her time and needs more time, by all means he is ready to support her through.
But he would be lying if he hadn't got used to living with her, going to bed with her and waking upto her gorgeous self everyday now. He felt so whole with her now. He even wants to pop question to her, especially since she's always been so vocal about how important it was to her. He's even gone as far to take his mum with him to find a perfect ring for her.
Tonight he didn't wanted either of them cook so he got food from YN's favourite restaurant on his way back home. When he got back, he found her fast asleep on the sofa, it was Friday night he noticed then. She has Fridays and Saturdays off from work.
He didn't wake her up instead he proceeded to transfer all off the fold out of the plastic trying to make as less noise as he could knowing how much of a light sleeper his girl is. After be put lids on all of the food thermoses — great investment YN made him do — he went to check in on her before he proceeded to clean up. She had a bad habit of covering up her face with the blanket and it scares it that she's going to suffocate herself even though she's assured him many times that she can breath in just fine.
He also found it a tiny bit odd seeing her asleep in late afternoon as she's not the one to take naps but, she had much more commissioned work to do she must've been tired. Shrugging it off Harry padded his wak to the living room.
And he was just right!
She had that damn blanker over her face. He crouched next to her.
"Hey, baby, do you wanna wake up?" He called tugging the blanket off her face, "lemme see you gorgeous, I missed you today!" He cooed when she wouldn't let go.
"Five minutes!" She whined.
"Okay, but lemme see you." He requested, "there you are!" He celebrated quietly seeing her face after long hours of the day. "Hello, my love." He leans down to kiss her forehead.
"Hi," she looked at him surprised, "you came early today?"
"Mhmm," he nodded, "thought we could spend some time together for the weekend."
"Oh, I'm sorry I fell asleep watching TV." She flops on her back to look at the TV was turned off, it must have turned off on it's own as it was left unattended. She did planned to watch favourite bakery YouTuber but she just fell asleep.
"It's alright," he assured her, "do you want to wake up now?"
"Mhmm." She nodded sitting up straight midway of her yawning out her tiredness away.
"You had a good sleep?" He proceeded to take a seat in front of her, she nods again as she wraps her arms around his middle for a quick cuddle. Taking the smell of his cologne, sweet, cold and earthy tones laced with hints of sandal wood, he always smelled like he'd just gotten out of a steamy souna. "I brought your favourite so you won't have to cook tonight." He shared, snaking his own arms around her.
It was her turn to cook tonight. Mainly every dinner was on her because she really fears Harry's either going to loose a finger or two in attempt of chopping veggies and stuff or burn down his beautiful home. So she just takes it upon herself to make food.
"You did?" Her voice came as a muffle against his chest.
"Yeah," he caressed her hair gently, "do you want to go out on a walk before we eat?"
"No, we can just stay in and watch a movie or something." She suggested, pulling away from his embrace politely.
"Yeah, we can do that." He agrees, anything to spend more time with her. Though they both haven't been out since past three weeks, at he goes out for work but she haven't left her house. Even to run her errands. She instead opts to get everything home delivered.
"Okay." She said pushing the blanket off her body noticing Harry was leaning in to steal a little kiss but she moves back, watching him cant his head and look at her confusedly. "I just woke up from a long nap."
"I don't mind." He chuckled, "haven't we had morning sex many, many times?"
She sighs watching him a little hurt and press her mouth onto his in a tender kiss. He kisses her back regardless with same love.
"I need to pee so bad!" She exclaims, trying to find energy to get up. Harry giggles at her adorable laziness and watches her make a run for the bathroom.
He walks back to the kitchen and cleans up all the mess he made, wiping down the counter where he managed to spill drops of gravy and bits of rice with paper towel. He threw away all the trash and noticed she hasn't taken it out today, so he took that out himself. He made himself and his love some tea. Opening the fridge to get milk for YN's tea he saw plate of waffles he left for her today.
She didn't even take a bite frim it. He also found little storage containers with more breakfast foods he made from four days ago. Haven't she been eating? Has she been eating out? He wondered.
Harry took out all the spoilt food from the fridge to throw it away but he kept it on the counter to wait for her come back out. He is well aware that he isn't the best at cooking but she could have told him not to make her anything. Yes, it would have hurt him but not this much.
"You didn't eat you breakfast." He spoke when he saw her walking back down the stairs. Caught, she almost tripped down.
"Be careful!" He rushed towards her rather quickly, holding onto her. YN shook her head jerkingly as if she was not trying to be dizzy. "Hey what's wrong, sweetheart? You alright?" She clung onto him like a koala.
"Yeah, yeah, I'm good." She nodded and stood back on het feet. Harry still walked to the sofa and her sit down as he fetched her some water. He sat next to her. "Baby what's wrong? Did you start your period?" He enquired, nit to be offensive but she does tend to feel dizzy or even pass out when she's on her period.
"No, I didn't." She gulped down half of that glass of water he gave her in one go.
It clicked to him, "did you not eat at all today? Not even the snacks I got you yesterday from the grocery trip?"
"No, I just fell asleep watching TV." She said, which entirely wasn't the truth but it was.
"I, uh, baby you need to tell me what is going on, okay? Of course you haven't been falling asleep from past four days, have you?" He was being too harsh with his interrogation so he stopped there waiting for her to answer. She just opted to drink from her water instead, so he pulled her closer to his side.
YN just leaned into his touch there. She hasn't been feeling quite good in her skin recently. So many reasons to unpack but she never felt like talking to him about it. He has helped her through many of her low, he's calmer and seems to think thoroughly in moments of crisis and she's so grateful to have found him.
Oh she couldn't list many things why she was feeling this way. Which she did not felt is right to talk about but the feeling of her stomach empty felt eerily right to her, lile it always did. She bas gotten over this in past and she's sure she can do it this time too. She loves food and she can't stay away from it really.
She did ate dinner with Harry every night. Though she served herself, quarter of what she eats, but ends up throwing up in the middle of the night in the downstairs bathroom. She just doesn't want to burden Harry with this. He's already pretty stressed with his next year's spring summer collection to be bothered by her.
"Hey, it's okay my darling angel," she heard Harry coo to her realising she has been sobbing now. "You know you can talk to me right, YN?"
"Mhmm." She nodded. "I don't know, I don't know what's, what's wrong I just want to go to bed." Her voice low like a sad whining little puppy between her cries. She's sure which are ugly too.
"Already?" He enquired which made her cry even more so it scared him. For the first time Harry didn't know how to help her or even know what was actually going on. "It's okay we'll talk about it when you're ready, okay? You want to watch TV instead?" And she just nodded.
Harry took the empty glass of water from her and kept it on the coffee table, he grabbed the remote and turned on the TV to play one of her favourite movie. He didn't even bother to change as he got her comfy next to him under the blanket she was wearing earlier. She looked up at him when she could feel his gaze on her, he just placed an assuring hand on her cheek.
"It's okay, I'm here." He whispered to her with a kiss on her forehead. YN just rested her head on his chest as she stared at the TV trying not to fall asleep on her problems the best she could.
"I, I think I wanna go on a walk." She suggested.
"Yeah?" He smiled at her, "lemme grab a jumper for you real quick then." He carefully peeled herself from her urging her to go put her shoes on, a little no-shoes-inside custom he's grown to follows since her stay. He ran upstairs to get her one of his hoodies which he helped her slip of as well put his own jacket on as it was getting a bit chilly outside.
"My baby," he tugged her closer to him, "our neighbours are getting Christmas spirit, aren't they?" He pointed out, little gruesome Halloween decorations already have been swapped with happy Christmas decorations. It made her feel that much more calmer.
"Yeah. We should put up some decorations too." She suggested looking around.
"We can do that tomorrow," he agreed. "Feel any better?"
"Mhmm." She sounded, "don't feel like talking about it."
"That's okay, whenever you're ready baby." He pressed a kiss on top of her head. It wasn't that late so they took the bus to the mall to look around for a Christmas tree. "We should get a real one."
"No, it's gonna die by the end of the week." YN chuckled at his suggestion. "We can reuse these ones."
"That's boring. A real would be eco-friendly options."
"Not when you'll have to buy another one to be put on actual Christmas day." She pulled him to the little gift section to look for inspiration to buy presents for his mum and sister. Whilst her parents didn't approved of Harry, his family welcomed her very warmly into theirs.
When they went back home, Harry tried to serve them dinner he bought with him. YN didn't say much but pushed around her food after taking three bites waiting Harry to finish up.
"Sunshine you didn't eat anything." He cooed to her, "a little more?"
"No, I, I ate." She shook her head, "I'm just not that hungry."
"Why not baby?" He pulled his chair closer to hers seeing tears brim in her eyes behind her glasses, "hey lovie, it's okay you can tell me."
"It just feels good to not to," she admitted, "I just don't want to eat."
"Well you gotta fuel your body, don't you? Why do you feel that way, hmm, do you wanna tell me?" He asked, carefully reaching for her hands in her lap.
"I don't know. It feels better to feel hungry and not eat. I deserve it." She choked, "I don't want to do that. But I don't want to feel this way either. I don't know what is going. I, I don't know what do!"
"Hey, c'mere." He got up picking her up with her legs wrapped around his hips as he walked upto their bedroom, somewhere she's more comfortable to talk. He tucked her under their blanket as he slipped next to her. She cried in his chest. "No one deserves to be hungry, okay? Especially my girl. It is going to be difficult but we can make things better."
"I don't mean to cry, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." She cried even more.
"It's okay to cry, lovie, don't ever apologise for that." He held onto her tightly, "please don't take this a wrong way, okay? Do you think you want to get professional help? If not then it's fine, we'll figure out a way to make you better."
"I don't know," was her answer.
"That's alright!" He assured her, "you can take it all little by little okay? What do you say we start from tomorrow morning?"
"Mhm!" She nodded, "I want to sleep now."
"Of course my baby, go to sleep I'll be here when you wake up."
.....................................................................
It's been long six months now.
Harry had been trying to help his girl the best he could. It made him happy when she recently agreed on, he'd drove her to her therapist's office just this morning on his way to work.
Meanwhile they've been going on morning and evening walks, it helped her though it was not enough. But at least it was getting her somewhere to begin with. She'd still try and stall her way out of it, but Harry's there by her side.
He went home early today, to make them a nice dinner. Nice Tomato soup and grilled cheese sandwiches, it was her favourites as she ordered it on their first lunch date. He had Shania Twain playing in the background in low volume, as he sang along to her putting together a dinner.
"Where did you come from?" He heard his surprised girlfriend, she was stopped in the middle of the living room with her bag hung over her shoulder and a little paper bag from the tech shop. She must have bought another SD card he figured.
"Work...?" He laughed knowing exactly what she meant. He's been working late so it was a surprise to her, "how is your day going so far?"
"Good, had to mail the SD I had to my client so I went to buy a new one." She held up the tiny paper bag in her hand, "I am never taking his projects again for sure."
"Why are they demanding?" He asked.
"He's been constantly emailing me to mail the SD to him so that his wedding pictures don't get posted anywhere else it's infuriating I made him pay for it!" She ranted in one go as she stomped in kitchen and got herself a glass of water.
"Karen, isn't he?" He chuckled making her giggle too.
"You know how expensive SD cards are. God!" She sighed. "What are you doing?"
"Making us dinner." He he was chopping up Tomatoes for the soup.
"Do you want me to help you?" She offered, "please?"
"Why not baby!" he agreed.
"I'll go change real quick, don't start without me." She said already making her way out of the kitchen.
"Oi, come back here now!" He faux-scolding made her stop dead in her tracks, she walked back to him, "gimme a kiss." He leaned down to match her height with a cheesy smile on his face.
Of course she leaned in, her small hand cupping his jaw in between her thumb and fingers gently. Looking him dead in the dead with the softest smile he's seen on anything, waiting for her to give him the kiss. She pulled back to his dismay.
"Ask nicely next time." She tried to run away but he is rather swift with his moment he caught her by her hips and turning her around started tickling her. "Ah, Harry!" She squirmed, giggling.
"Is this nice enough?" He teased her, tickling her sides where she's more ticklish.
"Stop," she grabbed onto his elbows to stop him, catching onto her breath. He got his kiss. She smeared her lips on his the smile never fading. "We should get rid of your shirts and tank tops."
God he looked so deliciously handsome in his white tank!
"Why so? You don't like 'em?" He asked, his nose skimming against her cheek, making butterflies go haywire in his tummy.
"I do, but I prefer you without them." Taking advantage of their closeness to place another kiss on his mouth.
He chuckled softly, "well then let's go upstairs and fix it, would you like that?"
"I'd love that." She agreed, "but not now, I've got work." With that she slipped through his arms.
"You cheeky monkey!" He smacked her bum before she ran upstairs laughing. He'll have his way with her later!
......................................................................
"Put some more!" YN whined at Harry being skimpy at adding spices.
"No, it's gonna be too spicy!"
"You are literally so white, move!" She pushed him to a side.
"Hey!" He whined but he let her do her thing. At least she's trying to be involved.
Finally being done with cooking, they both sat down at the coffee table on the floor with their favourite show on the TV.
Harry doesn't like to make it too obvious to her, but he's always been keeping an close eye at her eating habits now. Not to be creepy. Not to be disrespectful. But he's doing it just to keep up with her progress. She was doing great last week, eating at least one full meal.
He saw her taking just two bites off her grilled cheese and a few full spoons of soup before she stopped.
"Baby?"
"Hmm?" She looked at him.
"How was your first session today?" He enquired.
"We talked." She started, "he said that it'll take a few sessions to see we get along and stuff. But so far I, I think he can help me."
"Yeah? I'm so happy for you, baby!" He smiled, pulling her in a brief embrace. "I love you."
"I love you too." She smiled, seemingly contained. "I can't eat anymore." She said putting back the spoon her bowl.
"You want me to make you something else?" He suggested, "it's okay, you can eat more later."
"No," she shook her head in disagreement, "I don't feel like it. I'm sorry, I know you came home early to cook and all. It just tastes bitter to me I don't know why. Sorry."
"Hey, stop apologising, babylove." He cooed, "it's okay. I promise."
"This is so bad." Her voice cracked, "I don't feel like eating sometimes and when I do, everything tastes, so, so bad. I don't know." A few tears make their way down her cheeks, "I feel like I'm being ungrateful for everything you're doing for me. I promise I'm not, I'm trying."
"I'm so proud of you for trying to get better, my love." He hugged her again, "it's alright. I can't imagine what you're feeling right now but I can tell you, I've never once felt you're being ungrateful, okay? It's okay, do you feel like eating right now?"
"Mhmm." She nodded.
"You want me to make you something else?"
"This is going to go to waste." She cried even more, feeling there are many people out there who are hungry and deserve to be fed and she's waste it all by simply not eating. It was a big internal turmoil she had been going through.
"It won't, I'll eat this for lunch tomorrow." He assured her, "you want me to make you Ramen?"
"What if I don't feel like eating that too?"
"Then that's fine, baby you don't have to cry. Please?" He requested, not knowing how to make her feel better. "Okay, let's go on a walk and see how you feel, what do you say?"
"Yeah, I'd like that." She agreed.
......................................................................
Another six months later. YN was doing better. She had to switch her therapist but she has been recovering well and good.
N O T E :
This was so difficult to write 🥺 but I tried. I am not sure how this one's gonna do.
I also apologise for the lame ending. I don't know how I should have ended it.
Tag list:
@vrittivsanghavi @buckymydarlingangel @sweetwritingfanficfriend @theroosterswife24 @sleutherclaw @melllinaa @michellekstyles @sunshinemoonsposts @marialikescherries @japanchrry Lemme know if you want to added to the tag list
629 notes · View notes
Text
people flip out over Sam’s 10-heart event bc it’s implied that sex possibly happened but honestly the exact same could be said of almost all of the Bachelor/Bachelorette 10-Heart events lol
2 notes · View notes
summoningcirclepress · 4 months
Text
Splat 5: Golden is Live on Kickstarter
The year 2024 marks the 50th anniversary of Dungeons and Dragons* and more excitingly, 50 years of TTRPGs as we know them! To celebrate we are looking back through time to bring you handpicked thoughts about evolutions in labour conditions, the indie scene, Powered by the Apocalypse, and RPG SEA. *Dragons sold separately.
WHAT'S INSIDE THE ZINE?
Interview with Meguey & Vincent Baker (Apocalypse World) in conversation with Rae Nedjadi (Apocalypse Keys) @temporalhiccup about designing the apocalypse over the years.
Interview with Waks Saavedra (Gubat Banwa) @makapatag and momatoes (ARC: Doom) about the rise of the TTRPG industry and culture in SouthEast Asia known as RPG SEA.
Interview with Jay Dragon (Yazeba's Bed & Breakfast) @jdragsky and Orion D Black (WotC & Dimension 20, freelance writer) about labour conditions and being indie in a corporate dragon world.
Back us between Feb 6 11:00am-Feb 7th 11:00am 2024 for an EARLY BIRD DISCOUNT
We're Kickstarting until Feb 20th 9pm EST
66 notes · View notes
fourstarsoutofnine · 2 days
Text
To get away
Chapter 3.5: Chain’s perspective.
(mainly legend)
Part 1, part 2, part 3
Warnings:blood, guilt, lots of self loathing😭
Tumblr media
“We could just leave her here, you know. The towns are safe. They’re always safe. She’d be better off here than with us. She can’t fight, has trouble walking long distances… she’d thrive in this lazy town.” The vet suggested. In his mind he was killing two birds with one stone. You’re out of their hair and he doesn’t have to worry about you. You’re here, safe, and they’re far, far away from you by the time you wake up. He doesn’t have to feel bad!
“Absolutely not.” The old man shut down the thought. “She’s our responsibility now. What do we look like as heroes of Hyrule if we leave her here? Abandon a poor girl at an inn in a town she’s unfamiliar with.”
“That does seem kind of unfair…” Sky commented. “She’d be terrified…”
“So we let her sleep and when she wakes, we let her eat breakfast then get going. She’ll learn to keep up the pace, and we’ll all give her the benefit of the doubt. She might not be cut out for it, but we’re not just going to leave her.”
“It was just a suggestion..” the vet huffed, crossing his arms.
——————
For all the chain knew, you’d been asleep for a while. It was nearing noon. The vet was getting tired of waiting on you. There were things that needed to be done. They needed to get supplies and get back out on the road!
“Vet, go wak—“
Before the old man could get the sentence out of his mouth, the vet jumped up and bounded up the stairs to your shared room. He burst in. “Aaalright, you’ve had it good long enough, time to get up—“ he ripped back the covers and saw an empty bed. He furrowed his eyebrows and looked around the room before walking back out and running down the steps.
“Vet???” The sailor looked at him with a concerned expression.
“She’s not in bed.”
“What do you mean she’s not in bed? She’s not anywhere down here, we would’ve seen her.” The champion spoke.
“I know that, champion, that’s what im saying. It’s weird…. Maybe she… went back where she came from? She was just kind of dropped here, as she said… maybe as she slept whatever magic that put her here took her back…”
“That’s too simple of an answer. Scour the town, boys. She must have run off.” The old man said
“She probably heard us earlier…” Sky frowned.
“No don’t say that. Don’t blame yourself..” the old man replied, putting a hand on his back. “We can’t do that..”
“What other explanation is there?” The traveler crossed his arms. “We talk about leaving her here and now she’s gone.” He huffed, heading out.
“Wait, trav—“ the vet tried to put a hand on his shoulder to stop him, but the traveler brushed him off and went to go search for you. The vet sighed heavily. He was right. This is his fault. He brought up leaning you, he pushed hard for it… now you’re Hylia knows where, likely unarmed—you could be dead by now and it would be all his fault…
He set out on his own to find you, that familiar feeling of guilt settling deep and heavy in his chest, the weight of the world on his shoulders, all the horrible things you must be feeling, if you’re not gone onto eternity already…. He thought back to every mean thought, everything he’d said to you… that funny feeling of guilt. Self hatred….
Failure. He’d failed another. First Marin. Koholint… and even if he wouldn’t admit it to himself, he did care for you. That much was very clear. He wouldn’t be searching so fervently if he didn’t. There wouldn’t be tears in his eyes and a pit in his stomach as he saw a group of monsters gathered around something, cackling and jumping like they’d won… he wouldn’t be fighting them off of you so valiantly, and he certainly wouldn’t be dripping tears onto your shirt as he picked you up, blood drying in your hair and on your clothes and seeping into his own tunic. He wouldn’t be shouting for the others so loudly his throat hurt. He cared for you. And now he worried he wouldn’t get to tell you.
27 notes · View notes
pieroulette · 11 months
Text
Seven Lifetimes of Unfortunate Fate : PART 1
Tumblr media
2023 | 13+ | 1k | ONESHOT | PARK JONGSEONG × READER
GENRE/WARNING reincarnation, red string of fate, freaking angst, fluff, romance, murder/death.
AUTHOR'S NOTE i'm in for some angst and wanna break some hearts >:) i initially wanted to make this fic reach till their seventh life but anywayss i could just do another part whenever I had the time so this is very short. after all this is for practicing a different writing style while breaking some hearts <3
Tumblr media
first and second life.
"i hereby declared the two of you as husband and wife!"
a melodic hymn towards his ears and yours, not even a second did he waste in pulling you into his embrace, long fingers brushing against your neck as he mouthed for your eyes to see. "you have no idea how happy i am to have you as my wife, right now."
giggling like a child, you did, as you took a chaste kiss from his cheek. "so did i." this very moment of you and him, sealing each other's destiny by holding each others red string of fate you two were oblivious of—alot more tighter with intent; to never let each other for eternity, regardless of how many years had passed, or how many lives would come upon you two.
in this life, you shall remain loyal to him till your last breathe.
many years had passed since then, life has been nothing but utter bliss with Jay as you are now bearing his child, your and his firstborn. When you broke out the news to him, he was beyond ecstatic and even broke down over how he had been hoping for a child someday, and to have one with you, his lover.
since then, Jay had took personal classes on how to be a good father and the necessary measures on how to look after a child and such. That gestures of his never fails to evaporate your heart to a melting pot, as you cooed towards the child in your swollen belly. "look, baby. your father and i are beyond excited to have you. come out faster, will you?"
.
"i'm home!"
you answered back to jay, and your eyes softened at the sight of your husband who didn't waste any second to fall on his knees before you—placing a loving delicate kiss on your lips and then onto your belly. hushing a lullaby he made towards his child.
a lullaby so comforting and delicate to touch, a home of made of love. a protection you pray for the gods to bestow upon you, your lover, and your child.
your lips pulled up in a contented smile, as you weave the handkerchief you've intended to give to Jay on his approaching birthday. your lover's day of birth, happens to be the day your child will arrive to the world as well.
"y-you're not jay.." protecting your belly with your trembling hand as you step backwards in attempts to evade the approaching stranger, you begin to tear up over how beyond terrified you are for what was about to come.
pitch darkness enveloped the path, and soaked he was under the heavy storm as he carried the customised doll from work, a thousand thoughts run through his mind as to what you've cook for dinner today, and how he was going to tell you what had happen throughout his day, or how giddy he was to be able to talk with the baby once again.
his features adorned with relentless euphoria as he pushes the door opened, exclaiming at the top of his voice. "i'm home!"
yet the sight that often greets his dark grey orbs that had his lips pulling up in greatest bliss, a sight he had seen a thousand times yet always been dying to see every time he came back home were splattered with dark horrors he wishes he had never seen.
jay fall before your lifeless corpse with your belly slit open, the sight of the tiny hand hanging out of your protruding tummy—his orbs glistened with tears, a wholly void deepens in his heart as his trembling hands held the tiny hand, weeping. "m-my.."
his glistened orbs fell on you, "l-love?" cupping the side of your cheek with his hand, as his other hand remain on your child's. "i-i'm h-home.. you can w-wake up now."
his jaw clenched as excruciating pain of reality sank onto his body, as if every bone in him are bound to snap, his ribs protruding causing his chest to ache tremendously.
"i'm home! l-look, i bought a doll for our child!" his trembling fingers tried to put the doll against the tiny grasp of the hand, "dad is here, wake up!"
thus the man fell in the greatest test of his life, as he wandered about the bustling city with no destination to rest upon, a home to be in the arms of whom, with only the remaining part of himself was contained in the depths of the doll resting on his arms.
hollow void. solemn and torment. an excruciating lifetime with his red string now snapped—hanging low on the ground with no connection.
"a doll?" the old maiden appalled by the object placed on her table amongst her materials, she grabbed it and inspected it accordingly. "hm, how much do you charge this, young man?"
"take it." said Jay, with orbs looking down to the soil—the gleaming sun rays affecting his vision—beyond blinding it was, to feel the heat; a proof of life. but inside the cage of his ribs, his heart remained still, awfully hollow. "i don't need it anymore."
thus the man go on about the long deserted path, severely malnourished he was by how his cheekbones had protruded and his lips chapped with dehydration, and in his orbs lies no signs of will to live. he looks down to the soil where his lover's feet had stepped a millionth times, and to the scorching sky where his lover's soul now lies within.
"i pray that in our next life," his voice hoarse and cold, "that we will be lovers once again, and when that happens, i promise i'll protect you."
.
"huh? why are you giving me a baby doll?" you raise your eyebrow suspiciously at the old maiden placing a doll of a baby on your palms.
"nothing in particular," she shrugged, "just thought, it would give protection on you. a young man had sold it to me without any price. so you have no need to pay, either."
"b-but i'm not pregnant!"
"you can when you have a child later."
"bold of you to assume that, old lady."
you went on about your journey to the countryside, as a young lady and firstborn of the noble family—you were assigned with a fairly important task to watch upon the business farms your father had last checked quite a month ago. to evaluate your skills, you took the rare gem of a chance and prove to your goddamn step-brother that you rightfully own a spot in the family's business.
welp, easier for you to say, as right now you were sprinting for your life away from the approaching bugs and bees like chasing after you—all while screaming for help cause why there's so much bees in the farm?!
your jaw gaped down hard when you caught sight of a man with a straw hat on, his back facing you—fully unaware of the tragedy that's about ensue.
"no—no—get away you! the man over there! oh my god—" his eyes met yours, and together widened instantly at the realisation of what was about to come. he stumble backwards in attempts to run away but to your utter bad humour, you burst into laughter while tears dripping down your eyes over how scared you are too.
bam!
your legs had given up, colliding against the man who's now beneath you. a series of groan emitted from you and him, there a couple of curses left his mouth much to your surprise.
"why are you even running?!" he spat out, pushing you away from his arms. you frowned, what a hideous attitude indeed. you exaggeratedly sigh, dusting off your skirt not even sparing him a glance due to his ugly manners.
"for your information, i warned you. but you had such a slow reflex that this tragedy had occured!" you fought back, gritting your teeth at your expensive gown now in greasy mess.
"for your information, there's no point in running when the bees don't even sting!" you've finally got the chance to look at his face beneath the straw hat he wore, your tongue immediately curled upon his gorgeous features, however mirroring your expression in a much larger scale.
"what? cat got your tongue? what are you even looking at?" he spat out with his left eyebrow raised.
"w-what? they don't sting?" your face contorted horrendously at the buzzing bees that had passed over the both of you awhile ago. "please, how was i supposed to know?!"
"not any of my concerns, obviously." the man raised the corner of his lips in downright mockery, "now get off me!"
you let out a yelp at his unbelievably harsh push at your shoulder, "why can't you have at least an ounce of manners?!"
"please, a bossy young lady like you? i could see by your whole fit just where you truly came from." your jaw dropped at how he look downs at you with total contempt.
you scoffed at him newfound blazing rage, swaying your head in atrocious exaggerated manner in attempts to frustrate him even more. "hello, sir? i definitely can see how of a righteous person you are for treating me like this, i. am. so. honoured!"
the man emitted a horrendous groan as beads of your saliva splattered across his face, wiping it he did with utter disgustment. "yah! oh- oh my god! close your mouth!"
"why?" you leaned in closer, "why would I?!"
it's safe to say, the man immediately stood on his feet all while pulling your collars up, forcing you to get up as well. "y-yaah! get your dirty hands off me!"
his fingers tightly gripped the material of your collar, pulling your face closer to his which had your orbs rattling in utter chaos. with his sharp jaw clenching and his dark grey orbs piercing right to your soul, he doesn't seem very pleased at all.
"i guess we're fated to be enemies in this life, huh?"
Tumblr media
「 © talesofyuan on tumblr 2023 」 all rights reserved. do not copy or post without permission.
137 notes · View notes
centralperkchenford · 9 months
Note
Tim tells Lucy he loves her whilst drunk and doesn't remember in the morning 🤣
Hehehe this one was fun! Hope you enjoy Anon!
Tim tells Lucy he loves her whilst drunk and doesn't remember in the morning 🤣
Life was a willow and it bent right to your wind
There’s noise outside the door and a loud bang. Lucy freezes as she turns to look at the door. She glances towards her gun safe where her off duty weapon is. She is just about to unlock the safe when she hears keys jangling outside and the unmistakeable sound of the key in the lock.
She frowns as she moves towards the door, the only people who had keys to her apartment were Tamara and Tim.
Tim.
Tim had gone out with Aaron, Nolan, Wesley and James. It was put on by Angela who said their men didn’t spend enough time together. Tim protested and insisted he wanted to stay home with Lucy but Angela had that’s what you do every night Bradford. You need a guy’s night. So Tim had reluctantly out with them. Lucy had watched amused as he left her apartment and he had casted her a longing look. Please help me. She had kissed him one more time, promising she would be there waiting for him.
She hurries over and looks out the peephole where she sees her boyfriend staring at the look a frown on his face. She lets out a happy laugh and opens the door. He looks up when it opens up, and gets a goofy grin on his face.
“Hi.” She says quietly grabbing his hand and pulling him inside. He stumbles in and falls into her. “Are you drunk?” He shrugs his shoulders and then kisses her on the cheek.
“Maybe.” He says quietly. “Wesley dropped me off. He kicked me out of his car.”
“Did he?” Lucy asks him making a mental note to talk to Wesley about that.
“Yea.” Says Tim. And Lucy takes a step back to study him. His hair is all messed up, his eyes are a little redder than normal and he looks like he’s about to topple over.
“Come on.” Says Lucy pulling on his hand again. “Go get settled and I’ll bring you some water.” Lucy tries to move away but Tim grips her hand almost painfully.
“No. Stay.” He whispers. She tries not to laugh at his pouty face. She leads him over to the couch and sits him down and smooths back his hair gently.
“I’ll be right back baby.” She says softly. “I promise.” Tim nods his eyes half lidded. She goes back to the kitchen and gets him a glass of water and some Advil for good measure and then heads back over where he is now laying down, pin straight staring up at the ceiling. She smiles to herself and then gets on her knees so she can talk softly to him.
“So how was guy’s night?” She asks. He turns to look at her, his eyes lighting up as if he hadn’t expected her to be there.
“It was fine.” He mumbles. “Drank too much I think.” Lucy snorts and kisses him on the forehead. She is definitely going to have a talk with Aaron, Nolan, Wesley and James. At least he came home in on piece.
“Sit up.” She says and he does albeit a little slowly. She hands him the Advil and water. “Drink babe.” He does as he’s told and swallows the Advil before looking at her again.
“I love you.” He says and then he falls back on the couch and puts his arm over his eyes.
Lucy stares at him a little stunned. I love you. They hadn’t said that to each other yet and Lucy did love Tim with all her heart she just wanted to make sure he felt the same way. Which apparently he did.
“Lucy?” Tim voice startled out of her thoughts and she looks down at her boyfriend, he has his eyes closed and he looks so adorable like this. So vulnerable and soft, it’s a side of tough TO Tim Bradford he doesn’t let anyone see except her.
“Yeah baby?” She asks a little weakly. I love you still rolling around in her mind. He opens one eye to look at her.
“Can I sleep?” He asks. Lucy chokes out a laugh and kisses his forehead gently and then his nose and finally his lips. He takes like beer and whiskey, it’s perfect.
“Yes Tim. You can sleep.” She says softly smoothing back his short hair.
I love you
***
The next morning Lucy wakes up alone in her bed and panics for a minute before remembering Tim fell asleep on the sofa. She throws on one of his shirts and top toes out to the living room, only to find the sofa empty. She panics again before she spots Tim’s shoes lined up against the wall. She tiptoes back to her room, and into the bathroom where she hears the shower running. She grins to herself and opens the curtain, Tim is just finishing as he looks over at her.
“Good morning.” She says cheerfully. He moans and she whips his shirt off and steps in the shower with him.
“What happened last night?” He asks as he grabs some more soap for her. She looks up at him and bites her lip. Does he really not remember?
“You went out with the guys.” She says quietly as he rubs her with soap. “And you came home drunk.”
Tim makes a face. “But you were like really sweet and soft.” She assures him. He studies her for a minute.
“I am not soft.” He grumbles. She rolls her eyes at him placing her hands on his chest.
“Well you are when you are drunk.” She tells him. “And since you can’t remember you can’t argue with me.”
Tim mumbles under his breath and then continues to rub her with soap. “Then what?” He asks. She bites her lip. I love you.
She knows he was drunk so she’s not sure he actually meant it. He does show her everyday how he feels with the little things. Like right now washing her body in the shower and not expecting anything else in return. Maybe he does love her.
“Lucy?” He prods. “What else happened?” She looks up at him, this wonderful amazing man even when he was drunk she wouldn’t trade him for the world. She loves him so much that it’s scary.
“Nothing.” She lies. He frowns a little like he doesn’t believe her. She smiles up at him and then his hands are right above her ass and he’s lifting her against the shower wall. So this was how the morning was going to go? She didn’t mind that one bit.
***
Lucy doesn’t like lying to Tim, after their morning sex in the shower she had scurried out avoiding Tim at all costs. And the thing is she isn’t sure why. Maybe it’s because she’s trying to figure out her feelings first.
Tim tries to talk to her throughout the day but she ducks out and she can tell he’s getting frustrated.
Finally he corners her just outside the locker room with a frustrated look on his face.
“Lucy what the hell is wrong?” He snaps. She stays frozen to her spot not even flinching at his tone. “We were fine this morning.” And now he sounds resigned.
“Did something happen last night that you aren’t telling me?” He asks softly. She reaches out and grabs on to his metro shirt hoping he doesn’t pull back and to her relief he doesn’t.
She takes a deep breath. “You told me you love me.” She says. Tim’s face changes from frustration to surprise and sadness.
“I said I love you?” He asks quietly. She nods and starts to back away but Tim grabs her hands and holds them.
“Why didn’t you just tell me?” He asks his voice shaking. She reels back a little bit. Did he really not love her?
“I-I didn’t know if you really meant it.” She says quietly not looking at him. “You weren’t— you were drunk I didn’t know if you—”
“If I really love you?” He says looping his hands in hers. “Because god yes. I do love you Lucy. So much it’s scary. I wish I remembered saying it to you but…” He pauses for a brief minute.
“I love you Lucy. And I hope you never doubt that.” He says. Lucy is full on crying now. She wipes at her tears while staring up at what she knows is the love of her life.
“I love you too Tim.” She says and Tim’s face breaks out into a big smile. He looks around to make sure no one is coming around the corner and when he’s sure it’s clear he presses a quick kiss to her lips.
“Let’s go home and I will show you how much I love you.” He says his voice low and sexy and she gets shivers at his promise.
Tonight was going to be a great night.
63 notes · View notes