#when you’ve spent a long time thinking of someone as not holding much affection for you | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ma1dita · 24 days

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BABEEE happy birthday!! (i'm so terribly late i'm so sorry) congrats on 23💖

🐥 so i'm having thoughts right now about luke x reader and physical affection. like maybe one of them being touch starved and always craving the other person's touch and the other person noticing it and doing it more? maybe from platonic (i will go down with best friends to lovers) to romantic, i'm just on this brainrot tonight

🐥🐥🐥🐥🐥

luke castellan x reader

a/n: back from the klerb but here with a classic 4am post 🥂 but the hangxiety wont let me rest until this is out! ill edit this in the morning... or not 😗

wc: 1.1k

—

It’s hard to miss what you’ve never had.

Luke Castellan was never a touchy guy. Sure, he’ll hold a new camper’s hand during welcome tours (especially the little ones who can barely keep up with his long legs; if they’re lucky they get a piggy back ride), and he won’t shy away from a clap on the back when his strategies for capture the flag bring his team to victory (they always do, mind you), and when he feels like it, he’ll even shove Annabeth playfully to show her he adores her (but she packs a punch now that she’s older).

It never really goes past that, and he’s never had to think too hard about it—physical touch.

He’s the one who takes care of others—a part of his nature like it is for Hermes’ cabin to take in unclaimed demigods. But something changed in the months that he’s gotten closer to you. At first, he’d bite his tongue at the way you’re so open to patting his cheek when he does something funny (which he doesn’t try to make a show of, but now…), how you choose to sit so close to him during bonfires that your knees touch (the Apollo kids could be singing about the heavens falling down on them for all he cares but he zeroes in on every word that leaves your lips), and the way you’d lock your fingers with him for a pinky promise after every little thing ‘to make sure it’s real’ (Luke didn’t understand the merit of a pinky promise over whether you could have his dessert for the next week if you took over arts and crafts with the kiddie campers for him; truthfully he’d give it to you anyway). It was unusual for him to have someone comfort him, to show care without a true reason. But he didn’t realize how much more it bothered him now that you wouldn’t even look him in the eye.

Silena and some of the other Aphrodite children had asked you the very defining question of, “Do you like Luke Castellan?” and having never thought of it that way, or being able to put your feelings for him in words instead of fingers in his belt loops or in the muss of his curls—that shit was terrifying!

You spent all Saturday afternoon at the docks with them belly down under the glare of the sun’s rays as they explained to you what the five love languages are. By the end of it, sunburn wasn’t the only reason you felt hot.

“Your love language is physical touch,” one of Silena’s older half-siblings—Connelly, says like he’s explaining that the sky is blue, “And Luke’s not that type of guy! Think he’s more acts of service…”

“Ooh, or words of affirmation….” another one of them muses, but the sound of your heartbeat tunes it all out. Well shit, have you been sending him the wrong signals? Or are there even any signals you want to send him?

Nevertheless, in the matters of love or even the tiniest whisper of it—maybe there’s no one else you can trust with this stuff besides Cabin 10.

Wrong.

Absolutely wrong. Whatever the hell you’ve been convinced or whatever’s changed since last weekend—Luke just knows he hates it, and he’s angry. He’s angry at how you gasp in surprise every time you brush shoulders during archery practice when you used to let him fix your form, he’s angry at how you’ll squeeze campers’ shoulders to tell them they’re doing a good job carrying the strawberry crates—and all he gets is a mumbled ‘Thanks, Castellan’ when he stacks them up and takes your load.

Luke’s so terribly angry that Travis told him he’s been walking around like a big strawberry, face red and irritated—but not at you.

He realizes he’s also angry at the fact that he can’t protect you from the onslaught of a rain cloud—or maybe it was the fact that you’re so okay with the rain touching your skin and seeping through your orange shirt like he wishes you’d let him. He’s angry at the way the wind blows your hair into your face and your fingers brush the strands away like he wishes he can. Most of all, Luke Castellan is angry that he didn’t know how good a simple touch could be until he lost it—before he even really got to appreciate yours.

You’re sitting on the opposite end of the row in the amphitheater laughing with your friends and the furrow in his thick brow is a tell-tale sign of his discomfort. Luke doesn’t dare to remember what it’s like before you to be honest—he’d rather give up Elysium instead of having you ignore him like this. He calls your name, a tinge of both anger and desperation until you look over at him, eyelashes kissing your cheeks. The hold you have on him transcends the physical touch of your fingers but he wants, no—needs you next to him.

“C’mere! Why are you so far away?”

Luke hopes it doesn’t sound pathetic, but a crooked grin splits across his face as soon as you make your way over, sitting down and crossing your legs away from him. It’s still too far, even if he can feel your breath on his shoulder.

“Did I do something to make you angry? I…” The words escape his mouth in a jumble—quick wit from his father escaping him, though he knows not to rely on that asshole, god or not. You mutter words that almost escape him too, and he leans in, chasing your hands and putting them in his own until they’re gentle and soft in his lap.

“No, no…. I just… don’t want to push your boundaries. I know you don’t like it when I’m too touchy,” and he thinks his heart clenches a little like how you’re squeezing his hands. Luke shouldn’t feel instant gratification from a subconscious action. He wants to know you mean it with him—that’s what he can’t put into words.

“I….like it when you do.”

You notice the way his fingers tangle tighter with yours, pinkys interlocking with yours. When he lets go, Luke wraps his arm around your shoulders until you’re able to laugh in the crook of his neck. He chooses to place a kiss on the corner of your mouth when your head sways to face him at the silly tune about centaurs and then you realize that Luke loves the way you love him. You wonder if he accidentally missed meeting your lips, but then the noise in your head quiets down when he pulls you closer, lips locking tenderly, intentionally—as they were always meant to.

You both hear a giggle that sounds a lot like tinkling bells belonging to children of Aphrodite.

For once they were wrong about love.

Luke’s tongue parts through your lips and meets your own like they’re in a long awaited embrace, dancing and devouring you from the inside out but this, you— are what he can rely on. This, your touch, and how he chooses to let it consume him, never letting go.

#jo's 23rd birthday bash ⋆｡°✩#luke castellan x reader #luke castellan fanfic #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo x reader #made by ma1dita ♥︎

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reverie-starlight · 3 months

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megumi loves…

a collection of things megumi loves about you.

gn!reader, no physical descriptions. so sweet it’ll make your teeth rot tbh. he won the poll so here’s the fic as promised!! literally wrote this on the bus and train rides this morning after having this planned for weeks. I literally love him sm he is everything to me <3

megumi loves when you play with his hair. the feel of your nails running along his scalp, playing with the nape of his neck- it’s calming. you do it most often when you’re both in his bed, cuddling after a mission or a long day of training. he’ll flop down on top of you, plant his head on your chest and sigh. he waits for you to do something, drawing the sweetest sound he’s ever heard from your lips (a laugh) as he glares up at you when you don’t move your hands. you’ll mumble out a soft “aw I’m sorry, baby,” before giving him exactly what he wants. he’ll press tender kisses to any patch of skin he can reach in thanks. you’d never make him ask twice because you know he truly appreciates this time spent with you and you’d never want him to shy away from you. you’re each other’s safe space after all, who would you be to deny him?

sometimes you’ll do it in public, too, but far less often. these are the times that you just can’t hold back- he’s so cute, why would you? he grumbles about it a bit, especially if you’re around people you know (he’s shy, after all), but can he really complain when you look at him so softly as you play with his dark locks? he’ll endure the teasing and reassure you that he’s fine with it if you start to pull away.

megumi loves running his fingers along your facial features. over the bridge of your nose, the apples of your cheeks, tracing your lips… he just loves your facial structure. it sounds like an odd compliment to give someone, especially if it’s the first compliment you give someone (and in his case, it was the first compliment he managed to stutter out after you offhandedly called him pretty when you were in the transition stage from friends to lovers), but he’s thankful that you seem to find it sweet.

he loves your face when you’re awake, so full of life and excitement that he can’t help but match when you’re both alone in the comfort of each other. the pretty smiles you’ll give him make his heart pump just a bit faster, the lovesick in your eyes after he kisses you… he wouldn’t trade it for the world. he’d do anything to keep you happy.

he loves your face when you’re asleep, too. especially after you’ve had a rough day. you look so serene and peaceful. even if you do drool or think you’re less than flattering, he always thinks you’re the most stunning thing ever. he loves when you scrunch your nose in your sleep, and he always places a hand on your cheek to smooth it out. he adores the look on your face as you slowly wake up and blink at him before cuddling into him further and sighing as you fall back asleep.

megumi loves when you get a bit clingy. everyone is a bit surprised when they see how all over each other the two of you can be (at least, as much as he is willing to show in public- which isn’t much, but for everyone else it’s huge) he loves it when you can’t help but wrap your arms around him because you missed him (you probably saw him less than an hour ago).

he adores the way you refuse to let him get out of bed on weekends, insisting that you need your fix of “never-ending affection” from him before can start his day. and he loves giving it to you. he’ll start with peppering quick kisses all over your face, smiling against your skin when you giggle and wrap your arms around his neck, not at all tempted to squirm away, but rather to pull him in for more.

he’ll be convinced to lay with you for a bit longer, of course, and do it without complaining. because at the end of the day, he loves to feel needed by you. he likes having you close to him more than he hates getting teased by his friends and gojo for being all soft.

believe it or not, he enjoys it when you initiate play fights with him. neither of you go all out- you do that enough on missions- so it’s just the two of you rolling around in bed, laughing and pinning the other down. he’ll pick you up and throw you back down, he’ll summon his demon dog to jump all over you so he can have the upper hand, just to keep you smiling. he knows physical affection is important to you, so why would he deny you of that? he never wants to make you feel like you’re not getting what you need from him.

megumi loves when you tease him. this surprises even him to this day, because he doesn’t like the feeling of getting worked up at all. but his working theory is that he enjoys the intimacy of it. you don’t tease him about every little thing, you know he doesn’t like that, but you do tease him about things hyper-specific to your relationship. for example: that one time he messed up the pronunciation of that word in an argument? you never let him live it down, but you’ll also never disclose the inside joke to anyone else. you might be a nuisance on purpose, but you’re also his number one defender when it comes to anyone else teasing him.

you also like to fluster him. poking him all over when you want attention, blowing air into his face when he leans in to kiss you… it’s all so fun for you. you’ll get close enough to his face to make him blush, you’ll tease that spot on the back of his neck that he’s never told anyone but you about, and he hates how easily you get to him, but he’ll tolerate it because he knows you’re just as easy to fluster as he is.

he loves to tease you back. as soon as you’re back in your room after a full day of not letting up on him, he’s got his arms wrapped around you, and he’s walking you backwards until your laying on the bed, staring up at him wearily… and then you’re screaming because his skilled hands are all over your sides, your ribs and your hips. and once you’re spent, he’ll lean in close to your ear and whisper his own teasing remarks (normally compliments he knows you’d have trouble accepting otherwise) to get you whining and mumbling out laughter-filled apologies he won’t be accepting any time soon.

yeah, megumi just loves you.

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hope you enjoyed!!! it’s a different format from my other fics so lmk if you’d want this with any other characters!!

#megumi x reader #megumi x reader fluff #megumi fushiguro x reader #fushiguro megumi x reader #megumi fushiguro fluff #jjk x reader #jjk x reader fluff #jjk fluff

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lightlycareless · 6 months

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Okay but im so curious

how would the zenin household react to seeing naoya become affectionate/simp for y/n?????? the thought of it already makes me kick my feet in the air

I will start with the fact that everything Naoya does with you is like a huge shocker to the whole clan.

From him finding a partner that willingly wants to be with him, to demonstrating affection to said partner… yeah, no one believed Naoya could actually care for anyone else but him, at least in a way that doesn’t denote making fun of them or something.

But he does, and when you came along, it brought out that side many wished he would’ve kept hidden.

I never envisioned Naoya to be very fond of PDA, at least not with people he knows, because he gets somewhat embarrassed (lol). Even holding hands with his wife when his relatives are nearby is like a big no-no. He feels like he needs to uphold this untouchable image of heir before them, demand their fear respect and so on.

However, as years go by, he’ll eventually just stop caring, especially if the two get married. He just… doesn’t give a f*ck lol.

And the thing he’ll do though at this point, oh, they’re going to be far from sweet. Let’s say that Naoya is a huge pervert when it comes to you lol. I don’t have any other way to put it, he’s just obsessed with you.

Naoya is the kind of person to slap your butt when passing/approaching you. He doesn’t care if you’re in the company of your staff, or if his uncle/cousins are there, or anyone really—he just had to do it, couldn’t hold himself, and you absolutely hate him for it because it makes you go through embarrassing moments!! Having to apologize in his name in order to do some damage control, people looking at the two and immediately looking away because they can’t remove that mental image!!! Oh boy.

You’ve talked to him about it and agreed to at least… keep it to a minimum, be more discreet if possible. Of course, that only applies in public places. In the bedroom… that’s a completely different story 😏

And let’s not forget he’s known to be a loudmouth, so the things he’ll tell you are not short of indecent either. This is probably the thing you dislike the most out of his affection. The other you could tolerate, act like no one saw anything (even play the fool if someone alleged they saw something) but THIS???? Nah, it’s just too much—and childish too.

“I don’t think it’ll fit, Naoya” you say, probably about something mundane like a new couch you got for the house.

“Really? But I saw how well you fit me yesterday.” And the way your face turns red is almost comical, more so when the mover was right there, listening to everything, Naoya just had to laugh.

“Shut up!!”

“What? I was referring to the conversation about the couch we had last night, pervert.” lies. The sneaky bastard will act like you’re the indecorous one out of the two for having understood his words like that!! As if you hadn’t known him for years now!

It’s safe to say that it’s really hard to have important meetings when the two are present, so his family would often try to get you or Naoya alone.

But… it wasn’t all that bad, because even when Naoya can be mildly infuriating, he’s also capable of being sweet.

That is something that mostly happens when in private, away from the prying eyes of the rest of the world, more so when he’s spent a long time away from you.

Naoya will reach out for you first thing upon arriving back to the estate, gently cup your cheeks and pepper your face with kisses, telling you how much he missed you and your pretty face.

He’d wrap his arms around you, rest his face on the crook of your neck, taking in your scent as he relishes the fact that he’s finally back to your embrace.

Another thing I think he’ll enjoy doing (you as well) is when he rests his head on your lap, telling you of his day as you thread your fingers along his hair.

Bottom line, Naoya is overly shameless confident when in the eyes of others, but vulnerable with you :>

As for the reactions of the Zen’in clan….

Ogi, Naobito, and Jinichi would stare at him in complete silence/shock as Naoya goes on with his supposed displays of affection. I think that out of the three, Ogi would be the one more comfortable when showing his distaste for it, scowling whenever seeing you and Naoya together, quickly leaving the room as soon as he gets the faintest idea Naoya is to do his usual nasty shenanigans. The rest wouldn’t really care that much, asides from a “Really? Naoya? Ooookay” (and they know better not to interfere at this point 🤪 he's crazy protective of you)

Ranta would remain speechless, face completely red as he catches Naoya’s innuendos. He definitely feels a whole lot of empathy (pity) for you. But when his friend isn’t being nasty, he’s happy that he’s found someone to be vulnerable/happy with 😊.

Junko, Mai and Maki’s mother, is just the same as Ogi, only that she’ll openly tell both of you to “stop it”, and to “hold some decorum” for that’s no way the future leader of the clan should behave. Naoya just laughs it off, you apologize to her in private. At the end she knows it’s futile to even hope to change him—the two were young, after all, (IMAGINE IF HE WENT ON LIKE THAT EVEN WHEN OLDER? Hahahahah, Oh poor Junko) and contrary to her marriage, this was one made out of love so… good for them, she guesses.

Naoya’s brothers would be the ones to openly, even more than Ogi, show their disgust whenever catching his PDA. Naohiko would be the one to exclaim “EWWWWWWWWWWWW” as loud as possible when he sees them, maybe do some puking noises too? haha

Naofumi would initially not understand what the hell Naoya is going on about and why you’re so embarrassed all the time, but when he does get it, oof, he’ll disappear as soon as it begins.

And Naoaki… well he’d just try to avoid the two as most as possible in general lol. He never liked seeing people making out anyways... (uh who does???)

At the end, Naoya’s behavior would worsen become more and more obvious, especially when the two have their first kids 😊 He just loves you too much, he needs you to know that—that the others have issues with it he doesn’t care 🥺 all that matters to him his you and his new family.

ajgfakghagk Thank you so much for sending in this ask!! I hope it was to your liking ❤️

#ask #naoya zenin #naoya zen'in #naoya x reader #naoya zenin x reader #naoya zenin x you #jjk naoya #naoya zen'in x reader #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #jjk x you #prompt series: jujutsu kaisen

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tiddygame · 2 months

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i’ve stared at this for so long that i now hate it and think ive lost all concept of how to write so take this and get it out of my google docs

the introduction is rough and the medical depictions (and accuracy/realism) could use some (a lot of) work but whatever! here it is, my vague yet still oddly specific idea of how the face reveal would go in @myriadblvck ’s streamer au:

tw: description of a panic attack? i think?

[this takes place post first irl meet but before they’re officially together]

imagine ghost has a glasgow smile but on one side they carved a little too deep and left some nerve damage. time and surgery helped, after which he could eat unimpeded and talk without a lisp, but there's still some facial nerve damage and/or skin contractures from scarring, specifically around the corner of his mouth.

now, everytime he smiles, be it shit eating grin or a full genuine joy filled smile that not even grumpy mcgrumperson could hold off, it always looks wrong because one corner doesn't raise fully like the other.

everything else is fine, there isn’t any facial paralysis, he just smiles… wrong. especially since only one eye properly squints when he smiles, giving him the look of someone who got stuck mid wink.

if he wants to look “normal” (or as normal as he could get it) he has to manually squint his other eye. still, it always felt weird; you don't realize how much those muscles affect the rest of your face until they're gone.

it's why he learned to always wear the mask.

when his expression is neutral, you don’t really notice it. if you can see his mouth when he talks however, it’s obvious that there’s something wrong. he wouldn’t say he’s necessarily ashamed of the scars and damage itself, but it’s the stares that are the worst. before he started hiding behind it, people would openly gawk or even glare at him as if he was some ne’er-do-well gang member that got what was coming to him.

he still remembers the cosmetic surgeon that had been talking to him about fixing the contractures— the whole appointment was a fucking nightmare. the cuts had healed nicely enough especially considering how bad it could have been; he was lucky to only need a little cosmetic help. the only reason he was there was so he could fucking eat food without struggling to open his mouth.

the doctor spent god knows how long breaking down everything wrong with his face like he was a fucking car mechanic lying about how dirty your filter is. the guy constantly mentioned that while he was under, they could also fix his jawline, do a rhinoplasty, trying to break him down to agree to more work.

he was already fuming my the time the doc brought up how kids would react. asking ghost if he wanted to scare children since “you cant expect the little youngins that are still learning about the world to not get scared by something scary,” and that “even some adults would cringe at the scarring.”

what stuck out most was the condescending smile he had when he said it. as if he was pointing out the obvious and ghost was being stupid and shortsighted by not agreeing.

he declined everything except what was medically necessary. the procedure went fine and after an aggravatingly long recovery period, he could eat solid foods again without issue. but the comments still stuck with him.

…okay, maybe he’s a little ashamed.

scaring kids with your face doesn’t feel good and being reminded of everything you’ve lost when you try to smile can really fuck you up in a way words fail to describe.

so yeah, he hates it. he’s gotten used to the mask, both skull clad balaclava and simple medical mask, being a permanent layer of armor. even now that he’s a bit more comfortable in his own skin it still feels wrong to pull it off.

when he gets close to soap, it still feels like a layer of vulnerability that he’ll never be prepared for.

the first time he let soap see his face, there hadn’t been any grandiose build up, no extravagant planning.

simon had arrived just a few hours earlier. he hated commercial flights with a burning passion but it was always worth it to see johnny.

with soaps twin out of town for the week, he had decided to take leave to spend time with his friend, a friend that he most certainly did NOT have a crush on (a disclaimer roach and gaz heard everytime they started snickering over ghost taking leave.)

johnny had cooked something nice and simple for dinner, saying that simon had spent too long with MREs and deserved real food (ghost only agreed if he was the one washing the dishes, soap had laughed and told him he's not so kind as to let him off the hook for chores).

when they ate, it was always in the living room with johnny taking care to always stay angled away from simon, never trying to catch a glimpse, regardless of how much he wanted to see what was under the mask. the obvious gesture of kindness and respect for his boundaries always left him feeling all weird and fuzzy inside. but, then again, johnny seemed pretty good at triggering that feeling in general.

their finished plates were on the coffee table and johnny was watching whatever dumb movie he had put on. he was pretty sure the man spent more time talking over it and making fun of everything than he did actually watching it (it was simon’s favorite way to watch a movie.)

ghost however, was watching soap. thinking.

in the end, it was an impulsive decision made after a strong three seconds of consideration.

“you uhm— you can look by the way,” ghost stared at the can of soda in his hands, immediately regretting the words.

“what?” soap didn’t fully turn, just shifted slightly to hear him better. a simple gesture to show he was listening without turning to face him. it normally made simon happy to see that johnny was more than willing to accommodate for his boundaries. now though it made him feel stupid for robbing johnny of a normal face to face conversation, a normal human interaction, just over his idiotic insecurities.

“my face, you—,” he felt his heart block his airway and tried clearing his throat before continuing, “you can look if you want,” christ he wanted the ground to swallow him whole. why was he getting so fucked up over this?

“are you sure?” he hadn’t turned yet, but ghost could see his pensive expression from here. this should be nothing. realistically, he knew johnny seeing his scars wouldn’t suddenly make him hate him… right?

“yes.”

but it was more than the fear of hatred, wasn’t it? he was scared that johnny would see him. see more than just the scars, see all of the ugly idiosyncrasies and insecurities laid bare. afraid that johnny would see the truth of how unlovable he was.

jesus he was getting so fucking worked up and dramatic over nothing.

ghost didn’t look up. he made an effort to not focus on his peripheral vision. he heard soap turn, heard the intake of breath. the silence was loud only for a second. then, deafening white noise surrounded him, inescapable, suffocating.

fuck.

he didn’t regret giving permission but god did he regret everything else; the stupid scars, the stupid nerve damage, the stupid way he had managed to fall for someone so fucking good like johnny while he was unequivocally unworthy of his love.

stop being so fucking dramatic. you are not together, never have been and never will be. reality was blatant in front of him but it didn’t stop his heart from foolishly hoping.

he heard soap stand and walk closer. saw from where he was still staring a hole in the can his feet step in front of his. saw johnny’s hands raise. he took a deep breath in, closed his eyes, and with a great deal of effort didn’t flinch when soaps fingers grazed his cheek.

both of his hands came up to cup his face, holding him and ever so slightly tilting his face up, giving him the chance to pull away. he didn’t. he may be a coward but he wasn’t backing down.

ghost eventually opened his eyes to see soap staring at him with wide eyes. he looked away, staring off to some point on the right. he hated not knowing what soap was thinking.

they stayed there for a while before soap broke the silence, muttering, “i fuckin knew you had freckles.”

it was stupid but it shocked a laugh out of ghost. he meant to drop his head, embarrassed that something so dumb made him laugh, but accidentally just pushed himself further into soaps hands making him blush.

he looked up and saw soap staring even harder than before. the chuckle died in his chest.

“do that again.”

ghost just gave him a confused look.

“smile.”

such a simple request, a one word sentence, but it set his face ablaze. his breath caught in his throat, somewhere around where his heart was still trying to choke him.

…he hadn’t thought it was that bad but soaps reaction indicated otherwise. fuck. was his it that awful? he wanted the ground to swallow him whole. this was stupid. he was stupid.

“simon,” of course, one word from johnny and it felt like he could breathe again.

“please?”

fucking goddamn soap and his stupid fucking puppy dog eyes and the way he has ghost wrapped around his fucking finger without even realizing.

ghost smiled. there was no real mirth, more a grimace than anything else. he just wanted to get this over with.

soap was still staring at him, his thumbs tracing his lips, following scars, drawing imaginary lines between freckles… if he wasn't so terrified it might have felt nice.

“Christ,” ghosts heart cracked more, “you weren't lying when you said you were beautiful.”

ghost huffed a laugh and went back to staring off to the right, the fake smile dropping. of course soap would try to lighten the mood with a joke.

his panic fled as quickly as it had consumed him, now just left sitting in soap's living room, face still cradled in caring hands, resigned to his mistakes.

he felt so tired and johnny's hands felt so inviting.

“i wasn't joking,” soap looked…upset? angry? wait— fuck, what’d he do?

ghost stared back at soap, confused and tired. soaps nails felt the grooves of the scar, catching where the skin was raised and lowered.

“you don't have to lie, soap. im a grown man. I'm not fragile. you don't need to coddle me,” ghost said it like it was a joke, hoping soap would laugh along and that this would all just blow over. that tomorrow morning they could forget this ever happened.

“are you calling me a liar?” soap’s brow furrowed. great. instead, he had managed to make everything worse and piss off soap as well.

ghost took in a deep breath, giving himself another shot at calming things down, “no, I'm not. I think you're lying, but you're not a liar,” he stood and stepped to the side, grabbing their dirty plates and walking them to the kitchen sink, “you just don't want to upset me, it's fine. I get it. you're a nice person but you don't have to lie to spare my feelings.”

“I am not fucking lying!” as per usual, all ghost had managed to do was make things worse. there’s a reason he had decided to stick to the battlefield and give up on domesticity.

“well alright then. agree to disagree,” he turned the kitchen tap and started rinsing the dishes, waiting for the water to heat up. just walk away. end it there. let us forget about this stupid blunder and move on. please just leave it. please, please, please—

“no.”

the force behind it damn near made ghost drop the plate he was holding. he managed to set it in the sink carefully and turned to face soap, who was now in the kitchen as well.

“i— I'm not just gonna fucking— simon,” soap took in a deeper breath and went to continue but ghost was faster.

“johnny,” he interrupted, walking forward with his hands up in a gesture of surrender, approaching slowly.

one last chance to not fuck everything up.

“the fact is they're called deformities for a reason. they're not cute. they're not pretty. they're your body’s way of healing what it can and protecting what it can't. it's not meant to look nice, it's just—”

“bullshit they’re not pretty! says fucking who?” the genuine distress in soap’s voice and force behind his words caught him off guard. “simon—”

he huffed and ran his fingers through his hair roughly, pulling slightly at the strands. christ, ghost needs to shut the fuck up. every single time he speaks he just upsets soap more and more.

he needs to retake his hostage negotiations courses. clearly he has forgotten everything about how to diffuse a situation.

johnny takes another second to breathe and collect his thoughts before he speaks.

“simon. I know that— that ‘this’ isn't something that's going to fix itself overnight and I don't expect it to. but, ‘the fact is,’ I think you're pretty.”

ghost opens his mouth to disagree but johnny doesn’t let him.

“no no,” johnny put his hand over simon’s mouth, shocking him into silence. he blinks twice, stupefied.

“i think— no. I know you're pretty. cute even. beautiful is a given but obviously worth mentioning.”

his hand moved to cup simon’s cheek. ghost grabbed his wrist but didn’t stop him, wether it was a warning or encouragement he himself didn’t know.

johnny continued, unperturbed, “you disagreeing doesn't change that, right?”

there was a pause and simon realized he wanted an answer.

“johnny-”

“ah ah!” his hand moved back to cover his mouth, grabbing his face and shaking his head back and forth, over accentuating his words, “you disagreeing doesn't change that, right? yes or no.”

he stopped shaking him and moved his hand back to simon’s cheek. simon sighed, defeated, “yes. you are right.”

johnny looked smug, “good. and what do you say when i give you a compliment you don’t agree with?”

simon sputtered, “wha— i don't fucking know—”

“nothing! you don’t say anything!” soap looked way too proud of himself and he continued, “or thank you if you feel so inclined.”

“that was a trick question,” simon replied eventually.

johnny thumbed over his scars once more, again tracing them, “sure it was. now go take a shower.”

he patted his cheek twice and walked to the hallway.

“wait,” johnny probably shook the few remaining brain cells out of his head. “this whole conversation ends with you telling me that I stink?”

“yes. rancid,” johnny opened the door to the linen closet. simon was still in the kitchen. the tap was still running.

“no dipshit, do you not remember telling me that commercial planes makes you feel gross?” johnny threw a towel at him, which he caught just in time for johnny to hit him with a bath rag.

ghost had mentioned that… ages ago, he thinks. on facetime with each other, discussing the merits of bathrooms on public transport. he had said that enclosed, crowded spaces like commercial planes or buses made him feel, well, gross. how—or why—did he remember that?

“but… I’m supposed to wash the dishes?” a weak argument against the stubbornness he was faced with but simon had officially lost track of his mind and this conversation.

johnny shot him a weird look as he walked back towards the kitchen sink. simon still hadn’t moved.

“did you think i was being serious earlier?”

“yes???” he felt like he had been given a lobotomy.

johnny decided to take pity on him and explained in a soft voice that felt out of place, “i was being sarcastic. i’m not going to make you wash the dishes, simon.”

“but that was the agreement: you cook and i wash the dishes.”

johnny laughed as if he remembered something funny, “yeah, i lied.”

simon still stood there, trying to figure out if he had a stroke. johnny had been angry, completely pissed at him, but now was letting him off the hook and calling him pretty? what the fuck is happening?

johnny turned him and pushed him towards the hallway. simon could have resisted but his resolve always seems to crumble around johnny mactavish.

“now go shower, you beautiful bastard,” soap grabbed one of the plates out of the sink and started washing it with water that had probably heated ages ago.

ghost walked towards the bathroom, feeling like he was on autopilot, limbs disconnected from his brain. his cheek still felt… odd? weird? tingly?

it felt something from where johnny had grabbed it. ghost thinks… he thinks he likes the feeling, whatever it is.

he needs to sleep.

#ghost: i look like a monster :(#soap: OH NO HES HOT #[also the interaction ghost has with the doctor is based on real life experience both me and other family members have had lmao]#also also it goes w/o saying but this isn’t negative towards cosmetic surgery but rather the cosmetic surgery industry #not pictured: me having a full scale debate w/ myself over tagging the person this is literally for #look i have anxiety alright #ghostsoap #soapghost #ghoap #unreliable narrator #(soap is so fucking in love and ghost is so fucking stupid)#streamer au #streamer! au #streamer! soap #or is it #streamer!soap #god i hate tumblrs tagging system #my writing

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foreveralbon · 3 months

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i see heaven in your eyes - mv33

pairing: max verstappen x reader | word count: 900~

series masterlist | masterlist

your whole life, you’d always thought that giving love is much easier than being loved.

it might’ve been because you’d spent so long perfecting yourself, making yourself the best person you could possibly be, for the sake of everyone around you. some might say you conform to the needs of everyone else - you say that’s how you show love. what better way to say i love you than to be the best version of yourself?

and while you hold that mentality close to your heart, many others never quite reciprocated that feeling. you found that people preferred to receive love rather than give it back. eventually, you grew accustomed to never getting the same treatment in return.

so when max of all people was the one to hold your hand and get you off the ground, you were surprised to say the least. he wasn’t a man of many words, nor was he one to show his affection often. but for you? for you, he was always talking, always smiling and laughing and there was never a moment that he didn’t have a hand on you. and when he’s not holding you, he’s holding something for you.

the first time he did it, you were skeptical.

“i can hold it,” you’d said, reaching out to grab your backpack from him. you’d gotten as far as looping your fingers through the strap before he was tugging it back towards him.

he’d frowned. “no, i’ve got it.”

it was then that you’d realised his only intention was to take care of you. you didn’t like it though, hated it almost. the thought of having someone else concerned over you was unnerving - you’d gotten used to doing it yourself, being by yourself.

but as much as being taken care of was an unusual feeling, being loved back was even more odd.

over time, max’d become the lighthouse guiding you to shore, the anchor to stop you drifting too far from him. when he sees you pulling back from his affection, his smile is the tether pulling you back down to the ground, and when you’re the one to look after him, he’s sure he falls more in love with you each time.

he never stops showing his love. it becomes… overwhelming to say the least, but you can’t ask him to stop. you don’t think you ever can because you’ve come to crave his love, need it as if it’s oxygen, as if it’s a lifeline pulling you back down to earth.

but it makes you feel guilty as well - you much preferred it when it was you taking care of them, not the other way around.

the guilt comes at weirdest, most uncalled for times. like now, when you’re lying down on your bed, max sitting against the headboard behind you and his fingers are tangled in your hair.

the moment he’d walked into your home, you’d seen the exhaustion etched into his features, worn out from two back-to-back weekends of racing. you’d suggested a movie night to ease the stress out of him, but even then, you were the one sat back, watching him as he moved around the house, putting away his clothes and preparing snacks for the movie.

you’d protested profusely but he’d simply guided you back to bed with a finger to your lips and shh, i’ll take care of it.

now, he’s focused on the movie. you, on the other hand, cannot stay still. there’s a notion lingering in the back of your mind, and it’s nagging you to ask him, though you know it’s a meaningless question.

max notices your discomfort, and squeezes your shoulder, as though to ask is everything okay, my love?

“why do you do all this max?”

your voice is small and weak, and max just about feels his heart break at your question. he quickly pauses the movie before pulling you onto his lap to make sure you don’t avoid his gaze.

“i don’t know what you mean by that, schatje.”

you shrug. “why do you do things for me, max? i mean, no one i know did. so what did i do to deserve it from you?”

he sighs deeply, purses his lips. you give him time to think - you’d never take his silence as hesitation. with max, silence means he’s forming the words in his head, articulating them to make the most of it.

“you didn’t ask me anything,” he starts. “you didn’t ask for anything. whatever you gave me was - is - from your heart. you give your whole to everything and everyone, why shouldn’t i do the same back?”

there’s a lump forming in your throat, the only thing that’s holding back your tears. he can see your willpower crumbling, can see it in the way you breathe deeply to stop the tears, the way your hands twitch as though stopping themself from touching him. so he brings your palm to his chest, right over his heart, to steady you, remind you that it beats for you. always you.

“i’m not a religious man, schatje,” he murmurs, resting his forehead on yours. “but i see heaven in your eyes, and i never want to look away. write my name next to yours on the list into heaven, just so that i know it’ll be there forever.”

“but-” he stops your protesting before you even start, already knowing what you’re going to say. he knows you’re going to keep questioning yourself, him and his love for you.

“when i see you, i want to worship you like the queen you are, the way you’ve always deserved to be worshipped. what else am i supposed to do?”

and what else can he do, when everything he’s always wanted is right in front of him?

—

song + translation if anyone is interested! also just a gentle disclaimer, these are based solely off lyrics, so sometimes it may not really suit the song itself (this was so half-assed i’m sorry)

@namgification please let me know if you’d like to be added to my taglist!

#liyah writes #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen x you #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #even if i write everything in your name befriend me in return #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen fanfic

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rosesloveletters · 4 months

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1971!Willy Wonka SFW Alphabet.

Pairing: 1971 Willy Wonka x Reader

Word Count: 2,319

Warnings: no major content warnings apply.

Summary: Filled out SFW alphabet template.

Author's Note: Just a little something-something since my next full fic won't be posted until Wednesday.

divider created by @/saradika on Tumblr.

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

Once he has settled into the relationship, the amount of affection his partner receives from him is boundless. He prefers private intimacy rather than PDA – casual touches, chaste kisses and quick hugs are alright, though. He also likes to kiss the back of your hand.

When you are alone, you can expect a lot more from him. He will cuddle but prefers to do so in bed before you both fall asleep rather than at any other time. If you’re sitting by him, occasionally he’ll just drop his head onto your shoulder.

He is casual and somewhat indifferent; he is comfortable with any kind of affection if his partner is as well.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

Willy has not had a best friend since boyhood. He has been isolated inside his factory and therefore has not had the opportunity to make friends as an adult and, even if he had, he was far too busy and concerned with his business and inventions. That being said, it would take him some time to settle into having and/or being a best friend.

Whether you had met him in your youth or were lucky enough to befriend the reclusive chocolatier later in his life, he would always be considerate of you and would do his best to make sure that you were comfortable and safe. He is a bit unpredictable, so you can expect some surprises along the way and it would take quite a bit of time for him to show you his true nature, but once you’ve achieved mutual trust in each other, being friends with Wonka is very rewarding and one of the most exciting and fun aspects of your life.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

In short, yes.

Willy Wonka is a very private person and would appreciate the intimacy of cuddling. He likes when his partner lays on top of or against him with their head on his chest. Sometimes he’ll spoon you, but when he does that he almost always falls asleep.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

I think settling down is something he never gave much thought to. If the right person came along, he would be open to it, but he does not prioritize finding a relationship.

Since he has spent so much time alone inside his factory, he is responsible for his own meals and cleaning, even though he could easily hire someone else to do it or have the Oompa Loompas take care of him, he much prefers doing it himself.

He is an excellent cook – his skills of making delicious confections extends to making proper meals.

He keeps his living space very tidy. Despite the mess that is his Inventing Room, if his living area was that messy and disorganized it would drive him crazy. He keeps his person and his home very neat and clean.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

Willy would take this very seriously. He values honesty at its core and he would want to be upfront about ending things.

If he chose to end things, you most likely would not see or hear from him again.

When Wonka makes up his mind about something, especially something this serious, usually a tremendous amount of thought has gone into it.

He won’t make this decision lightly.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

Once Wonka trusts you implicitly (and it takes a long time to get to that point with him) you won’t be able to get rid of him. He holds fast to those he trusts because it is so rare that he finds someone who is not out to get him or make a profit off him or his ideas.

However, the idea of getting married is somewhat daunting to him. As someone who does not trust easily at all, marriage would be a huge step and he would want to be absolutely certain it was what he and his partner both want. He would not want to rush and would take his time, but if and when he proposes, his partner would know without any doubt that he meant it.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

Willy is very gentle.

His natural speaking voice is very soft; he has always been tenderhearted, for the most part.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

He adores hugs.

Innocent acts of affection are his favorite.

His hugs are usually warm, tight and all-encompassing. Sometimes you’ll get a brief, almost hesitant little hug or side hug if the two of you are in someone else’s company; the lingering hugs are saved for when it’s just the two of you.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

It takes Willy a long time to say it, but when he does, there’s no regret or doubt behind his words. He never does something so serious on a whim; it takes him quite a while to build up trust in a person, but hearing him say “I love you”, no matter how long it takes to hear it, is proof that he feels comfortable and that his feelings run deep.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

A bit surprising, but Wonka is extremely territorial.

What’s his is his and he is not sharing.

He doesn’t mind if you have friends, even if they are the opposite gender. The only time he gets jealous is if he notices someone trying to flirt or showing romantic interest in you. If this happens, he never gets upset with you and is quick to put an arm around you or any other innocent touch to assert that you are taken.

If it happens in front of him, expect him to make snarky little quips like he did throughout the factory tour.

His voice is always so polite that there’s always a delayed reaction to his insults.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

Willy is a little stingy with kisses, especially on the lips.

Chaste pecks are okay, but he keeps the full-blooded make out sessions to a minimum.

He prefers cheek kisses or to kiss the back of your hand.

When he’s feeling especially affectionate, he’ll kiss you anywhere that you’ll let him.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

Willy is good with children who are respectful, sweet and polite (i.e. how he treated Charlie at the end of the film.)

He doesn’t mind being around kids, but if they are disrespectful and don’t heed his warnings or follow his instructions, he’s swift to deliver consequences.

He knows how to speak to children and how to interact with them, but he does not have plans to have any of his own. The best part about being around children that aren’t his is that he can spend time with them and play with them, but they go home at the end of the day and he then has time to himself.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

You won’t usually see much of Wonka in the mornings. He is an early riser, sometimes even waking up before dawn. His mind is fresh early in the day and he does his best work when he’s wide awake. He’ll head down to the Inventing Room pretty early to get started, especially if he’s on the brink of some new creation.

If you’re up early, you might catch him, but if you prefer to sleep in, you won’t see him unless he pops in to check on you or you go looking for him.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

Willy’s schedule is practically nonexistent, so it really depends on whether he’s in a creative mood or not. On nights that he doesn’t stay up inventing till all hours, he’ll spend it in your company.

He doesn’t like to watch television very much but will watch it if you’ve got it on.

He loves reading and will sit for hours with a cup of tea and a good book (he might even read to you if that’s something you like.)

He likes cuddling in bed with you at night until both of you fall asleep.

Sometimes he has a bit of trouble winding down, especially if he’s been tinkering or has ideas for new treats, so on those nights you might have to help him settle. Run him a bath, read to him, tell him about your day, etc. Anything helps, as long as it’s quiet and relaxing.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

You’ll get bits and pieces from him, but it takes a while to connect all the dots.

Wonka is an enigma and never gives away all his secrets at once. It takes a very long time before you start to see his true personality shine through. He likes to keep people on their toes and trying to guess his next move.

You can learn a lot about him if you listen, so pay close attention.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

Patience is a virtue that Wonka has plenty of.

He is extremely patient; it takes a great deal to get him to the end of his rope.

He can be pushed to his limits and he still won’t snap, but once that fuse is lit, he has quite a temper.

When he does break, he shatters.

He does not yell or shout very often, but when he does is almost frightening. At these times is he incredibly blunt and brutally honest, which can and has offended people in the past.

Once he calms down, though, he will be extremely apologetic.

Fortunately, it is rare that his anger ever gets to that point.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

Wonka’s mind is his greatest gift.

He never forgets anything that you tell him, which is both a blessing and a curse.

He might seem scatterbrained when he’s working, but that isn’t because he has forgotten. If his mind is preoccupied with other things, it might make him seem forgetful, but you best believe he remembers everything.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

Willy does not pick favorites when it comes to the people he loves and trusts; there are not very many people allowed into his inner circle, so he considers every moment a gift.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

Willy is very protective.

Security is very important to him, not just for you, but for him too.

You are safe inside his factory. No one gets in or out without his knowledge and direct approval.

He does not leave the factory often because of his status; he would be swarmed by adoring fans, which would not offend him, but when he wants to spend time alone or with his partner, this would get tiresome.

He’s at his most comfortable inside the world of his creation.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

When Wonka does something, he goes out of his way to take things to the extreme i.e. the construction of his Chocolate Room.

He would put much effort into dates and anniversaries. His gifts would be thoughtful and considerate of your likes and interests. You can almost always expect some sweet treat of some kind.

He is helpful with daily tasks, having been used to taking care of himself on his own and enjoying his own independence.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

Willy has a bit of trouble being open, especially about himself.

All things considered, it is understandable, given that he has been taken advantage of. So many people have tried to use him for their own gain and it is sometimes difficult for him to put things into perspective and understand that not everyone wants something from him.

He is not very forthcoming with information about himself and this might lead to disagreements. He does his best to listen to you and communicate, even if it is hard for him to open up to you. He wants your relationship to be as healthy as it can be and that means learning to trust that you have his best interests at heart.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

He is a bit vain.

He cares about his appearance and his outfits, though eccentric and somewhat extravagant, are tasteful. He likes to match garments i.e. his shoes with his hat or he’ll pick accessories to match his eyes.

Sometimes he tries to style his hair a little bit, but his curls are so unruly that most days he’ll just wear his hat and leaves his hair alone.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

I think that Wonka would not have realized how incomplete his life was until he met you.

The irony is that his imagination has imprisoned him. He became so successful that his competitors tried to take advantage of him and he was betrayed by those whom he trusted. He can do absolutely anything that he wants and yet he will never be able to truly be free because he must isolate himself so that the world does not ruin him.

Wonka could never be free in the sense that he might someday have a normal life. All his happiness and joy are manufactured; he does not know a life outside of the factory.

Nothing is an impossibility for him and yet the one thing he cannot do is create love.

Love is something that must be found and cultivated over time.

A romantic partnership with him would take a while to grow, but with time, it would blossom into something beautiful and he would come to realize how much he had been missing.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

Willy says in canon that his Chocolate Room is where his dreams become reality and some of his realities become dreams…

What if the boat ride scene are his nightmares?

It would make sense, considering that every room in the factory contains things that he has invented or dreamed up out of his own head.

It would only be right to assume that the boat ride scene is something that has manifested from inside his mind.

These are the things which frighten or torment him. He purges them and gets them out of his mind so that he can focus on more wholesome things. We all have troubling thoughts from time to time and we can either put them out of our head or bottle them up; Wonka chooses to store them away where he can confront them by healthy means and step away when it gets to be too much.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

In general, Wonka hates: bad manners, questions, untrustworthy people and people with no imagination, to name a few.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

He doesn’t sleep very much. He would be fine with seven hours of sleep at the most, but he’s capable of running on no less than five.

#willy wonka #willy wonka and the chocolate factory #wilder!wonka #willy wonka 1971 #willy wonka x reader #willy wonka imagine #willy wonka and the chocolate factory imagine #gene wilder #biblio :: 📖

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literallyjusttoa · 5 months

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Friendship is Magic (Post-Toa Version)

About a year ago I made a couple posts about some niche gods I wanted Apollo to become friends with and now I’m back at it! Have some more post-toa relationships for our dear boy. (Warning, this is really long)

Prometheus: Ok, so I actually already said I want Apollo and Prometheus to be friends, but over the last year I have only grown to find this idea to be so interesting. I see the two of them as being so similar, with a strong love and respect for mortals, and a bleeding heart that ostracizes them from their family, who are more easily able to turn a blind eye to any tragedies that occur. But while I think their base personalities and motivations are similar, I think their tactics differ just enough to cause conflict. But the two respect each other so much that they can push and pull at each other enough to find a middle ground. Apollo has always been impressed by Prometheus’ craftiness, and lengths he’s willing to go for his own beliefs. Prometheus has held affection for Apollo for a long time, mainly bc he’s Leto’s son and he pleaded with Zeus to let Prometheus out of his punishment. Recently tho, Prometheus has been relieved to finally see another immortal who is just as against the state of Olympus as he is.

Idk if I’m explaining this right, but like. Apollo’s going to spend a lot of time trying to bring his family around to accepting the flaws of Olympus and the way they treat mortals. And that’s good! And he wants to do that! But when you’ve been a victim of a corrupt system, and then you have to spend a lot of mental energy helping other people realize how much this system hurts people, it can be such a relief to talk with someone who already agrees with you that things are fucked. LIke, “yeah, you don’t have to convince me that you’ve been hurt, I’m not going to challenge you on that at all, or try to justify it, I just believe you, and I agree that things need to change.” That’s what I want these two to be for each other.

Menoitios: The brother of Prometheus, and Titan of violent rage and rashness. If Prometheus allows Apollo to air out his hurt, Menoitios helps him to work with the violent, and often terrifying responses he’s had to the trauma he’s ignored. Apollo has not been a good person, and he is often horrified by the actions he’s taken in the past. Instead of letting him spiral, Menoitios tells him that he can’t stop these behaviors until he finds the reasons behind them. He also tells Apollo that the emotion that often led to him lashing out and hurting or even killing others, that feral rage that came from being raised up in such a toxic society and being harmed on such a deep level, does not have to be inherently harmful. They work through coping mechanisms, and work on using that rage to make real change. Oftentimes, Apollo and Menoitios can be found sparring, no holds barred. They go until their energy is spent, and then Menoitios carts Apollo over to Prometheus and caringly forces him to talk it out.

Aporia: Aporia is one of Nyx’s kids! I picked her specifically bc while there are a lot of Nyx’s children that I think would be interesting for Apollo to interact with, Aporia’s domain is especially interesting to me. Aporia is the personification of want, difficulty and powerlessness. These are three things that Apollo has definitely struggled with, and will continue to struggle with as he goes on post-toa. It’s especially hard for him because these three emotions are so heavily looked down upon on Olympus. Gods are not allowed to desperately want, or to struggle, or to be powerless. Apollo has hidden these feelings away for so long, and then he was forced back into them during the trials. It’s jarring, and he hasn’t really found peace with it yet. So when he starts getting visits from a literal representation of the parts of himself he wants to push down the most, he freaks out. But Aporia is not there to make him more powerless, or wanting. Instead, she wants him to embrace these parts of himself, to understand how they make him whole. The two of them struggle to connect, but when they do, their friendship is so impactful.

Boreas: I have been introduced to this ship and I actually love it oml. With Boreas, Apollo gets the one thing that he really needs after the trials. REST. Boreas pulls Apollo away from Olympus, and lets him get some good rest in his palace. It helps that the two of them have a very peaceful, slow and steady sort of relationship, where there are very little expectations on either side. (Basically, you’re hot, I’m hot, we wanna make out sometimes, let's just do that and be chill about it) Boreas is calm, but can be very stern at times. When he knows what needs to be done, he gets it done. Oftentimes this no-nonsense attitude helps Apollo to start moving too. When Apollo wants to give in, Boreas is the type to be like “You can rest for a while here, and when you get up again, I’ll help you figure out what to do.” And especially post-toa this is really helpful for Apollo. They cute <3.

Euphrosyne: Apollo’s half-sister! She’s the daughter of Zeus and Eurynome. She’s also one of the Kharites (Charities, or Graces) and she’s the goddess of Mirth. I think after Jason, Apollo reached out to some of his half-siblings, honestly just wanting to make sure they’re all doing ok. He and Euphrosyne hit it off quickly, and the two of them really just have fun together. Apollo is a person who feels his emotions so strongly, both sorrow and joy. So while he needs people around him to help him through his tragedies, he also needs someone who can match him at the levels of wonder and delight. These two hype each other up a lot, and while that might be two much for others, it’s what the two of them need to work through the emotions they have. They watch movies and listen to music that they rant about for hours, gush about their closest friends and family, and just sit and bask in it all sometimes. It’s just a lil bubble of joy and comfort.

Haha psych! Got you! I disguised this as a friends post, but it’s actually my roundabout way of giving Apollo therapy while there’s no god of therapy!! Heehee I’m such a prankster!!

#trials of apollo #toa apollo #lester papadopoulos #sunny speaks #long post #shut up sunny #I wrote this all rly quick so it's a bit all over the place but yeah #friends

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violetsaffron5 · 10 months

Text

In Another Life (2)

Chapter 1 • series masterlist • chapter 3

2 | Curse User

Pairing: Gojo x f!Reader and Geto x f!Reader

paying a visit to an old friend

Words: 3.8k

Taglist • Ao3 • Discord 18+ • Social Media • Series Masterlists

It’s been a few weeks since you read the content of the letter received by your “future self” - still not entirely sure what to think of it.

There are a myriad of curse techniques you’re unfamiliar with, so it’s really not out of the realm of possibility for a technique such as that to exist.

Satoru’s noticed a change in your demeanor, though you’ve tried really hard not to let the letter affect you, it has in some ways. It was rare for you to let your thoughts slip back to Suguru and what you had but nowadays it’s all you can think about.

The first time you laid eyes on Suguru with his shoulder-length glossy ebony hair shining in the sunlight of the practice field at school; the way his eyes, dark as onyx, formed little crescent moons when he saw you staring at him, giving a large smile and waving from across the field.

Your dreams have been taking you back to a reality that’s been long gone - the way the salt water of the beach would smell when you walked the paths during the morning hours. The way the early rays of the sun would glow on his smooth skin when he told you he loved you for the first time, and every time thereafter. The warmth his body emitted when he would sneak into your dorm room and hold you at night until he had to leave, so nobody would notice.

It’s not fair to Satoru, the way your heart is still hurting after reading the letter and you can’t help but think there’s at least some truth to it. As much as you would never admit it out loud, you do still love Suguru, even after all this time - it’s evident with the way your heart is breaking to be by his side once again.

And it’s not fair to Satoru, the way you also love him. Greeting him when he comes home after a long day of work and missions, smelling the familiar cologne on his neck as he sheds his uniform and holds you close before your lips meet and he’s whisking you off to shower with him. Satoru holds you close at night now, because he can. Because he’s been here for you and by your side when you needed someone the most.

Since Suguru left.

Along with the many things the letter got right about your feelings, there are several things it got wrong.

Satoru isn’t just beginning to show interest in you. Clearly, that had happened some time ago since you now lay on his bed with a giant rock on your ring finger, a ring that you’re currently twisting due to the anxiety of thinking about this letter yet again.

But it’s hard to deny that there is so much it got right too. Your feelings, the guilt that stunted the growth of your relationship at first with Satoru. Getting caught by Haibara when sneaking out with Suguru - something not even Satoru knows about.

Haibara would have never told a soul after you asked him not to, so two possibilities lay before you.

Someone else saw you and wrote this letter for their own sick amusement, or it’s absolutely real.

And the only way to really get to the bottom of this is to ask someone who has immense knowledge of various techniques, who holds those techniques, and where to find them: Kiyotaka Ijichi.

Rolling out of your shared bed you let out a deep sigh before showering and getting ready, throwing on a loose, low-cut blouse, jeans that Satoru always says makes your ass look amazing, and a pair of heels to accentuate the length of your legs because you have a plan.

Jujutsu Tech campus has always been a second home to you.

It’s literally where you grew up during your teenage years, having to stay on campus with your own little dorm room during the four years you spent here.

It was both freeing and terrifying when you graduated, moved off campus, and got a place of your own but every time you step foot back on the grounds, there’s always a sense of relief.

Back where you should be, next to your fellow sorcerers and friends.

It’s a beautiful day, bright blue skies - no matter how bright, blue, and clear the day is, the sky is never as beautiful as the eyes belonging to your fianc��.

You try to remind yourself of that as you make your way down the hall of one of the more traditional-style buildings where all of the offices are stationed, including your own.

You can hear Satoru in his office, surprisingly, talking with someone so as you walk by, you poke your head in and give him a wide smile.

“Oh, hey baby,” he says smoothly in front of Nanami, a grin spreading across his face at the sight of you, “you look great in those jeans.”

Satoru’s in his uniform as usual with his black blindfold covering his eyes. You blush slightly, thoughts coming to mind of all the ways he had just used that silky piece of fabric on you last night.

Nanami looks smart, as always, with his deep blue shirt and khaki pants held up by a dark brown belt.

You hum, walking into his office and making your way to the side of his desk he’s sitting on before wrapping your arms around his shoulder and kissing his cheek. You smile up at Nanami who gives a curt nod and tight smile before exiting the room.

“Whatcha working on?” You ask curiously, looking over the blank report on his laptop screen.

Satoru gives a heavy sigh before answering, “Just finishing some stuff up for one of my missions. I fucking hate doing this paperwork.”

The whining about having to do his own reports is something you’ve grown used to over the years, he never wants to do them, thinks they’re pointless if nobody got hurt, and if there was no damage in the vicinity.

“You okay, babe?” He asks when you don’t respond to him, grabbing your hips so you’re sitting in his lap. “Thought you had the day off?”

Resting your head in the crook of his neck you take a deep breath, debating on letting him see the letter, but ultimately decide not to because you don’t want to hurt him with what's written when you don’t even know if it’s true yet.

“Yeah. Just worried I missed something in the report I turned in yesterday so I wanted to double-check it.”

A simple, yet believable lie. It wouldn’t be the first time you had come in to check on something like that, always more astute to do your reports than Satoru’s ever has been.

Satoru smirks before catching your lips with his, giving a deep kiss, and moving you to straddle his lap. You gasp when he rocks you against his growing length, taking the opportunity to entwine his tongue with yours when your hands make their way to his hair, tangling your fingers between his silky tresses.

Pulling away, he playfully bites your lip, “And don’t worry, I already mailed out the engagement party invitations.”

A soft smile spreads across your lips as you look down, watching the way Satoru’s chest rises and falls with each breath with you on his lap.

Through all the worry, and thoughts that have plagued your mind, you’ve also spent a lot of time planning an engagement party that will take place in two weeks - a large enough party to host his clan, your friends, and co-workers, as well as the students.

Satoru grabs your chin, forcing you to look up at him. He searches your eyes from behind his blindfold. You know he’s wanting to know why you don’t look more excited, but he doesn’t press.

He’s confident you’ll come to him if you need to tell him anything or have any worries.

You wish you were as confident as him.

“Thank you. I don’t want to waste my day here when I’m supposed to be off so I’ll see you at home for dinner?”

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

You smile, pressing your lips against his, needier than last time before pulling away.

Once you make your way out of his office, you close the door so he can concentrate on working on his report with minimal distractions, and also so he doesn’t see you beeline to Ijichi’s office door, knocking quietly before opening it and poking your head in.

He sits behind his desk, laptop in front of him as he looks up. His hair is neatly parted in the center, with curved black eyebrows and sunken cheeks that give him a resting bored expression at all times.

Ijichi says your name slowly, curiosity and a little fear evident in his voice, never knowing what Gojo’s fiancé will need from him, “w-what can I do for you?”

As much as you love Satoru, and how excited you were to say yes to marry him, it’s almost as if most people have forgotten you’re your own person still.

You’re still a teacher, a sorcerer, a damn good one too - but now that you’re betrothed to the strongest, that’s all most people see now.

It’s annoying and infuriating.

As if everything you’ve worked towards on your own, to get where you are in your career on your own means nothing anymore. Now, you’re expected to marry, become the matriarch of one of the three clans and pop out heir and maybe a few spares.

“I need some information on a cursed technique I’m not familiar with,” you state, stepping inside his office and closing the door behind you. “I’m not sure of the name, but it would have to do with being able to send things, objects, back in time.”

Ijichi squints, eyes tracking your movements as you take a seat at the chair on the opposite side of his desk, staring daggers into him, waiting for him to tell you what he knows.

“What’s the reason for this inquiry?”

“Why?”

He sighs, a deep, heavy, already clearly frustrated with you sigh, “I’m supposed to log every inquiry on cursed techniques along with the reason as to why it’s being asked. A new procedure from the higher-ups.”

“Of course it is,” you grumble to yourself before leaning over his desk, absentmindedly drawing little circles on the smooth surface. “Look, Ijichi, I can’t tell you that. I’m working on… my own mission of sorts but need to gather as much information as possible.”

You watch as Ijichi’s Adam's apple bobs, cheeks flushing and eyes flicking down to your chest before meeting your gaze once again, “then I can’t assist. I’m sorry miss -”

“Ijichi, if you don’t tell me what I want to know, I’m going to hold your head underwater for an hour.”

He stares at you for a solid minute, blinking a few times, likely debating on the best move, the best course of action to take with you, and your line of question.

He clicks his tongue in annoyance before turning around and grabbing a book, flipping a few pages before setting it flush against his desk.

“The technique you speak of is rare but possible.”

You purse your lips and nod your head, mind running a thousand miles a second, thinking of a million questions to ask as your heart begins to race in your chest. The reality of the letter becomes more and more plausible by the second.

“Is it… accurate? The timing of the technique, I mean.”

“Unless the person is well trained, the timing with sending things back is incredibly inaccurate as it takes a great deal of cursed energy to pinpoint an exact location in time.”

Ijichi is reading from the notes in his book on the technique while you wonder what happened to the poor soul who dared to send this letter.

Did your supposed future self realize his inaccuracy? Would she even know? If she did and found out, what would she have done to him in retaliation?

Shaking your head, you remove the thoughts from your mind. There’s no point in dwelling on what that dynamic was and what potentially happened. You weren’t there for it - but maybe you will be one day, should you choose to stay with Satoru. Would you find yourself looking for someone with this technique in ten, fifteen, or even twenty years?

“Do we know of anyone with this ability?” You ask suddenly. Might as well be prepared for any potential possibility.

“We have a suspected curse user in our peripheral but there’s not a lot of information on him right now.”

Annoyance is evident on your face as he answers and you sit up from his desk, crossing your arms and leaning back in the chair. You put on your best icy stare, one you’ve seen Satoru dawn several times when he meets with the Kyoto principal or the higher-ups.

“Where’s Suguru hiding out nowadays?”

Ijichi’s eyes go wide at the seemingly sudden subject change. You continue to stare, not faltering. Spending so much time with Satoru has really paid off in this sense, learning tactics to scare Ijichi into doing what you need and want.

You’re nowhere near as intimidating as Satoru, so it takes Ijichi several minutes but eventually he tells you where you can find Suguru - in an old temple just outside of Tokyo that he recently took over for his nefarious deeds.

“I advise not going to see him.” Ijichi states slowly, hesitantly, “he’s not the same as he used to be. You know this already.”

“And I advise you to keep this conversation to yourself. You know what Satoru will do to the both of us, should he ever find out.”

It takes you a few hours to work up the nerve to actually make your way to the location Ijichi provided.

Since you don’t have the wonderful ability to warp around like your dear fiancé, you choose to take his car, hoping with it outside, within the vicinity, those who recognize it won’t dare to mess with you, thinking he’s nearby.

He has several vehicles, including one he gifted you when you started dating, but you opt for the one Suguru is familiar with - a sleek black sports car he’s had since high school. The car Satoru would take out when he asked Suguru to go out with him and be his wingman.

It’s been years since you’ve seen Suguru, and your palms are sweaty with the realization that you’re willingly going into his temple, his domain so to speak, empty-handed and without anyone having the slightest idea as to where you are, with the exception of fucking Ijichi.

Despite everything that Suguru has done over the years, what he did when he defected, he’s not the one you’re worried about. You know he would never hurt a hair on your head - but the others, the company he keeps now?

You don’t know them, don’t know the things they're capable of, or if they’ll keep their mouths shut about seeing you. The last thing you really need in your life is the higher-ups, and god forbid Satoru, finding out you’ve come here today.

Pulling up to the temple, it’s grand and gorgeous.

A dome covering the top with beautiful ivory columns supporting it from the base. It’s a Buddhist temple and you wonder just how on earth he managed to get his hands on this place and make it his new base of operation. There’s a stone staircase in the front that you make your way towards, climbing each of the steps slowly until you’re met with large double doors.

Outside of the temple, it’s deserted with no sign of life and you wonder if maybe Ijichi gave you the wrong address; that when you open the doors, you’re going to be met with Satoru’s unshielded glare, his cold, crystalline eyes judging and waiting for a reasonable explanation of what the fuck you think you’re doing.

Instead, the doors creak when you open them and a tall busty woman in a purple dress with light pink hair makes her way down the hall. It looks like she has a tablet in hand, heels clicking on the marble with each step toward your location.

“Excuse me,” she says, chewing on a piece of gum, “do you have an appointment?”

“Um, no? I’m an old… friend. Here to see Suguru.”

She raises an eyebrow at your casual use of his name, checking something on her tablet before looking at you up and down, making it incredibly obvious that she’s not impressed with your choice of clothing.

“Geto doesn’t see anyone without an appointment.”

“Trust me, he’ll want to see me.”

She opens her mouth to speak, but you know it’s just going to be more bullshit about how you’re not allowed to see Suguru without scheduling something.

So, taking another page from Satoru’s book, you push past her, quickly making your way down the hall, her heels clicking and clacking after you until you hear a commotion coming from one of the nearby rooms.

The sight you walk into makes your stomach curl in on itself, a wave of nausea making itself present in the depths of your belly.

Suguru sits at the front of the room, sprawled out sporting a gold-colored Kaseya over black yukata robes with white socks on his feet.

In front of him are rows and rows of sorcerers bowing down, worshiping and praying to him as if he’s some sort of benevolent god who was sent from the heavens to take away their pain and make all of their dreams a reality.

And you’re sure that’s what Suguru think’s he’s doing as well.

When Suguru sees you come through the door, confusion written on your face, he smiles. It’s that simple smile you used to always love, all pearly white teeth, soft as he stares at you from across the room.

It’s all so incredibly fake.

Yet when directed towards you, there’s also a certain sincerity held within his gaze and smile. It makes your heart flutter.

“I’m sorry Geto but she-”

“That’s quite alright, Manami.” He says to the pink-haired woman as she finally catches up to you, panting from running down the hall in her heels, “You’re all dismissed.”

Turning, you give the woman a triumphant smirk as she sneers, looking you up and down once again before turning her nose up and walking out of the room with a “hmph.”

“Please excuse her,” Suguru says as he stands to his full height at the front of the room, “she can be a little dramatic.”

“I noticed.”

You also noticed how Suguru’s hair has gotten longer over the years, now well past his shoulders, reaching down to his collarbone and the top of his chest. He has it pulled back into a half bun, several tendrils left out in the front framing his face.

His face has also aged; eyes crinkling in the corner when he smiles in a way they never had before. Jaw sharp and more defined. No longer the face of a young boy who’s lost his way but that of a hardened man, a criminal.

“It’s been a long time. What, three years?”

Your jaw is clenched, watching as he glides across the room with ease snubbing the flame to several candles you had no idea were lit due to being purely focused on your ex-lover.

“Yeah, three years.” You answer quietly.

Satoru doesn’t know, but about a year after Suguru defected he came to see you. He just wanted to talk, and give his rendition of events - he thought it would help give you closure at the time, and it did, or so you thought.

Obviously, you disagree with his decisions, the way he sees the world, and what he wants the future to hold, but there was a part of you that couldn’t bear to part ways with Suguru once again.

So you kept seeing each other in secret, purely platonic.

When you and Satoru began seeing each other, your visits to Suguru became less and less, trying to tear yourself away from the grasp he held on your body and soul and move forward with your life. When you told Suguru you had agreed to date Satoru, that’s when your secret time together ended.

You swallow thickly, remembering the anger Suguru held towards you and Satoru for getting together “behind his back,” so you quietly slip the ring off your finger and pocket it before he turns back around.

“So, what brings you back to me, my love?”

There’s a pang in your chest from the pet name, and two opposing feelings blossom deep within your chest.

One; fear that’s telling you to run away and leave because you know it’s wrong to be here without Satoru’s knowledge and the other a deep yearning for Suguru to continue to call you his and tell you that even after everything, he treasures you above all else.

“I just… wanted to see you. See if you’re still alive.”

“Now, I’m sure there’s more to it than that.”

You take a deep breath, biting your lip and avoiding his intense gaze, “I also wanted to see if you knew anything about a curse user who could transport things through time- I just- I thought if anyone knew someone with that technique and had them in their sights, it would be you.”

“That is an interesting technique,” he muses, cocking his head before narrowing his sharp eyes, “why?”

“Personal reasons.” You find yourself standing straighter. Trying to emulate as much of Satoru’s confidence as you can possibly muster in Suguru’s intoxicating presence.

He smells woodsy with a hint of vanilla and everything that’s right in the world even though he himself is so wrong in so many aspects. But even now, you can’t help but feel the draw you have to him, can’t help that you’re subconsciously leaning ever so slightly in his direction.

“No. I don’t know anyone with abilities like that. Is that the only reason you came here today?”

You clear your throat, willing yourself to not take a step forward like your body is begging you to, “Yes.”

Suguru smirks, always knowing when you’re lying even when you don’t know you’re lying to yourself yet.

“Mm. And how are things with my best friend?” He’s watching you, smile on his face but you know there’s still anger residing deep in his soul from what he considers an act of betrayal on your part.

“Things are fine. Good- great, actually.” Suguru raises an eyebrow as you stumble through your sentence awkwardly, but he doesn’t press for more information. Doesn’t particularly care to.

Suguru hums, “truthfully, I had hoped Satoru would have cheated on you by now. If that had happened, I’m positive you would have come crawling back to me, never one for being able to be alone.”

You scoff and turn away, not bothering to try and make any more conversation, you’ve seen and heard enough in the few minutes. The feeling in your stomach turning more and more sour by the second.

As you walk away, turning your back on your once lover you can without a doubt say your future belongs with Satoru.

@s-witch-bitch @watyousayin @coffee-on-a-rainyautumn @ritsatoru @faewithsnakes @lex-dear @hvziers @babybae-shisui @saiewithakatana @yihona-san06 @shartnart1 @lilith412426 @ambersea7 @ikilledsparky2 @creolequeen11210 @ichigojamjam @simpfully-heartbroken @coffee-on-a-rainyautumn @shan-nein @witchbybirth

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burning-academia-if · 3 days

Note

I'm so sorry for all the notifications lmao I'm going around liking every ask because i haven't been on the page for a bit. And why the fuck is all the asks making me like Lars. I don't want to like Lara because Lara doesn't want to like my MC.. i already have enough problems with Rook 🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️

I need to stay away from these problematic ROs. 😭

Oh quessssstiiioooon someone's probably asked this before but I've seen it on a few blogs. But since magic is obvs a thing. If someone cursed MC or gave them something that could only be broken by true love's kiss (especially since mc doesn't really have the healthiest relationship with those they are close to so who would think they could break a spell like that)

and it's after they've confessed to the ROs. How would they react to MC not waking up at first after they kissed them... but waking up after they've started having a major meltdown after all?

If you have gotten this ask could i please have a link because finding anything on tumblr is... 😒

And i literally fall in love with this goddamn IF every time i read anything on this page. It's a curse in itself... I hope you have a lovely weekend 🤣😇💜

Omg never apologize for mass liking, that's literally anyone on Tumblr's lifeblood lol

Also you know, I feel like Lars, despite being the biggest asshole of the ROs, is still less of a handful then Rook lmfaO good luck with dealing with them!

Also I have not been asked this one before! Felt very inspired it with, so I turned it into a prompt!

Rook:

You’re so still against the touch of his lips. You’re still even after he pulls away. His chest buzzes so loud it echoes in his ears. You don’t move, not even the flutter of your lashes and he should have known. How can he be your true love, when he spent so many years running away?

Whoever it is, would look you in the eyes when you said you loved them. They’re someone who would have taken you in their arms instead of turning away again and again. He sinks to his knees, hands clutching at the side of the bed where you lay. Tears burn at his eyes, but not a single one falls.

Even before he made this foolish decision, he knew. All that’s left is to find the one could wake up. If you’re life lays in the hands of someone else, a fact he always knew, then so be it.

He’ll let you go, like he should have so long ago. He will. He just needs another moment here with you before he turns away. He needs to hear your heartbeat and the cadence of your breathing for one last time.

Time passes as slow as honey, thick and opaque. His body is listless. In the silence, your breath catches and he blinks. Turns. You take another shaky breath, and when your eyes open, he’s on his feet.

“MC!” He gathers you in his arms, holding on tight. “Oh, thank god. I thought I lost you. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”

His forehead falls against your shoulder, and the tears finally fall. Your awake, your body is warm. And maybe, just maybe, he really does have a chance to make things right.

Beck:

When you don’t move after he pulls away, he doesn’t waver. Magic is strange, it can effect everyone differently, and with how much magic has affected you, he isn’t concerned that there isn’t an immediate response.

Instead, he takes a seat next to where you lay. He brings his knees up to his chest and tells you about all the things you’ve missed. The first flowers of spring, the new used bookstore that opened up on the corner, school events, and class drama.

The time ticks down, and it pricks at his heart. He keeps talking. About himself, about his life, about how he first fell for you, about how you are the warmth of the fire on a winter day, and if even if he isn’t your true love, then that’s ok. He’s just so glad he was able to have any time with you at all.

At some point, his throat is dry and he’s run out of words. What can he say, as the sky turns a dusty orange. He swallows, eyes fluttering closed and feel the first of the tears fall. If it isn’t him to wake you up, then who will it be? And how long will you be cursed to sleep until they find you?

A world without your laugh is far worse than a world where the two of you aren’t meant to be.

Then.

You shift beside him, and he goes still. When he looks, he sees your eyes flutter open, eyebrows furrowing as you look at him.

“…You’re awake.” He says, voice barely above a whisper. He brushes his fingers against your cheek, so impossibly gently. “You’re awake.”

He laughs, a watery, trembly sort of laugh, as he runs a thumb against your cheek. You’ll still be with him.

Rhea:

“Please wake up.” She whispers, kneeling next to you. There is no sign the kiss did anything. It’s fine, this isn’t the end of the world. She has had the logic of magic seared into her brain, and she knows how it works. She’ll wait. She can wait.

But still, you remain still. She gets up and moves around, to give her body something to do as she waits. She’s not good at that, waiting. She always needs to be in the midst of doing something. Making progress. When something’s out of her hands like this, she feels like she’s in freefall.

There might be a chance, she thinks as time ticks by, that you and her aren’t the ones for each other. Somehow, it makes the anxious energy in her gut easier to deal with. As long as she doesn’t think of the heartbreak that will hit the moment she leaves your side, it gives her a plan. Something to work towards. Steps to map out to figure out where to go from here and how to wake you up. The process of even finding the one who could do so.

She’s on step four when your fingers twitch. She goes still in response. All her thoughts scatter. Like a deer in headlights she watches you, wondering if it was just her imagination. But then your body shifts and she’s next to you again, softly calling your name.

“MC? Can you…can you hear me darling?” When you blink away, she feels a smile bloom despite herself. You’re awake and well and still hers.

Zoe:

There’s doubt in their chest even before they press a kiss against your lips. For it to be them? They’re not the kind of person who makes it into fairytales. They know this. Stories are the sort of thing they’ve studied their entire life. They exist on the other side of the glass, able to peer in but never able to be.

As you remain still, they stand and lean back on their heel. Whoever your true love is, it isn’t them. It isn’t that they doubt your love, but it’s hard to imagine that kind of forever for them. If this was the fate they were dealt, then so be it. And even so, you were their first love, and that’s a kind of special whatever comes next can’t take away. Even on different paths, even living different lives, you can both still be a fond memory for the other.

But god, they’ve never experience heartbreak either or the way it collides into their body and leaves them breathless. They wanted this. Every moment with you was a dream they never thought they’d get a chance to see. They were awkward and clumsy, and they were the luckiest person alive to have been able to met you.

They press a hand against their mouth, to stop the sob that’s trying to break through them. The image of you blurs as tears collect in their eyes and stream down their cheeks. They squeeze their eyes shut, trying to collect themselves.

It’s why it startles them, when they feel a hand reaching out, “…Zoe?”

They choke on a gasp, eyes flying open to see you awake. You’ve pulled yourself up, and your eyes are open. It strikes them so suddenly, they all but throw themselves against you. Any embarrassment they used to feel is gone. They’ll never let themselves hesitate again.

Lars:

“You would get yourself cursed.” He whispered against your lips as he pulls away. He doesn’t believe in true love or soulmates. For a curse to be based on the concept, it must make it the flimsiest curse to have been made. All it really needs is love and faith and stubbornness. Maybe his faith is lacking, but he sure as hell can make up for it with stubbornness.

So he waits. He leans his head back, closes his eyes, and wonders how long it will take. His hand toys with your fingers absently. With you asleep, you won’t be able to comment on the display. He still remembers when you said you loved him, the look in your eyes that left no room for doubt. He thought you were making a terrible decision, but he wasn’t one to complain. Your terrible decision, just lead to his great decision to go along with it.

The time passes slow, but the anxiety never comes. That isn’t who he is. Not when he’s sure about this, or at least more sure about it then whatever magic was used on you. And even if the kiss doesn’t wake you up, he’ll just find whoever cursed you in the first place and make them reap the consequences.

When he feels your hand move, slipping your fingers between his, he sighs, “About time you got up.”

“Lars? My hand—”

“Don’t get used to it.” You laugh, the sound scratchy from sleep, and he feels his body relax. It was nice to have you back.

???:

They know your souls are too entwined to have a doubt. That doesn’t not mean there won’t be blood on their hands for what was done to you. How dare someone curse the one they love. How dare someone put their hands on you.

They’re kiss is so painfully soft despite the violent rage in their chest. It’s been so long since they’ve felt this burning under their skin. Did the Curse Giver think you were alone and unloved? Did they not realize you had someone who was entwined with you in every way, down to the way you take a breath.

The wraiths flicker around them, agitated by the tremble in their body. They keep close to you, body curved as a way to shield you from the rest of the earth. If you don’t wake soon, they’re hands will find a blade, and that blade will find a body. The wraiths whisper amongst each other, as though capable of soothing them.

“But you were cursed even before this, weren’t you?” They breathe, pressing another kiss to your forehead. You shift beneath them, and when they pull away you open your eyes.

You say their name, and the sound of it wraps around them. They have a Curse Giver to kill, but for now, they only lay down beside you, and ask if you’re ok. You’ve been asleep for so long, and it took too long to get to you. They’ll never be late again.

#em answers #ch: rook #ch: beck #ch: rhea #ch: zoe #ch: lars #ch: ???#true loves kiss in the world of fairytales? more likely then you think #also got to write angry ??? for the first time let's goooo

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kagoutiss · 1 year

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Actually I'm not done talking about your Ganondorf yet, he's so blorbo/pos, this man wants power but has to put up with so much shit that he makes everyone else put up with his shit too. 10/10 also I would like to kiss him please

FIRST OF ALL THANK YOU AGAIN AAA, SECOND OF ALL you’re so right about this that i ended up…writing many paragraphs of character analysis about him in this regard because this activated something in my brain. like about him inflicting shit on other people because of the shit that’s inflicted on him, and how much i’ve thought about that. i have so many feelings about his shitty personality, i think a fundamental part of why i love him is that he is…literally an asshole and he’s kind of impulsive and often terrible to people for no reason and he’s probably genuinely unbearable to be around even if you are close to him, but i think he is that way by virtue of the COMPLETELY UNREASONABLE REALITY that he lives in?? like.

ok so. i feel like OoT ganondorf is AS unpredictable & unreasonable & unpleasant as the circumstances that he lives with. we’re talking about someone who was not only born into the role of king of a nation that’s been generationally abused by Hyrule since the start of a centuries-long war predating OoT, but he’s also become accustomed to fighting against the Sheikah of that time period, who notably still had an immense technological advantage, and apparently inherit divine knowledge from the gods, and are capable of making evidence of their crimes against humanity just sort of…DISAPPEAR from the sight of most average people??? and also they. fucking invented time travel apparently

one of my favorite bits of really underrated OoT lore is how the Composer Brothers (who you can speak to as ghosts in the Kakariko Graveyard) were hired at some point by the royal family to study the powers of the royal bloodline, and they invented the Sun’s Song, which accelerates time, turns night to day, etc. a form of time travel, in essence. and. canonically. the Composer Brothers committed suicide when they found out ganondorf was going to try to steal their completed research. maybe to prevent him from torturing the the information out of them even if they destroyed it? which is a completely fucking batshit piece of lore that i still cannot believe exists

but imo it also gives a bit more context as to how desperate ganondorf probably was at the heel end of the civil war, or whenever this happened. he was literally having to contend with people who can fucking time travel, and to some extent, alter reality at will, superficially or otherwise. i’m not at all surprised that he has a tendency to 1) hold grudges forever and remember everything that’s ever been done to him, and 2) obsess over stealing the full Triforce, the one chance that any regular mortal has at changing their reality in a fundamental way. i think it’s probably difficult to make real personal connections when you’ve always been constantly at risk of losing anything & everything that you care about, in a way that may or may not affect whether those things had ever existed in the first place

i also feel like he PREFERS to be demonized/label himself really hyperbolic things like the King of All Evil and stuff because it’s…the opposite of what Hyrule does. Hyrule makes itself out to be this Supremely Benevolent Institution That Is Chosen By The Gods And Can Do No Wrong, while simultaneously disappearing its naysayers underground and torturing them and killing them and committing genocide against any territories that refuse to be absorbed under the Hyrulean banner. i don’t think Ganondorf cares whether his actions are necessarily good or evil, but i think that to him, the most abhorrent thing in existence is a thing that claims to be good when it isn’t.

so. he presumably spent his entire early life having to fend off the ever-looming bootheel of Hyrule’s royal family, while their army and their secret police were actively destroying the Gerudo and then gaslighting them all about it on an Existential Level. like. yeah no i think him having immense issues and…projecting the lack of control that he feels onto people around him, and being fully defined by his ambitions to take the triforce, and wanting people to despise him/see him as fundamentally evil, and him being sort of incapable of forming genuine connections with people, is…kinda par for the course with that agdkahkfjagajfhs

#ask #txt #ganondorf #SORRY FOR WRITING ALL THIS I DONT KNOW WHY I DID. IT JUST REMINDED ME OF ALL THESE FEELINGS I HAVE #OoT ganondorf is a great character i think he needs to be appreciated more. it’s his origin story and you can draw so much from it #thank you again anon. i would also kiss him #suicide mention #suicide cw #brief mention but just in case

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alwritey-aphrodite · 1 year

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Hii! For your Valentine's prompts could I please request the Late Night Talking one for Poe? 💖

7 Days of Valentines

It was no secret that Poe Dameron was the sweetest man in the Resistance, if not the entire galaxy. Even when his world was crumbling apart, when he felt like he couldn’t go on, he was there for everyone else. As much as Poe knows he’s skilled as a leader and a pilot, he thinks the true meaning behind his existence is to be a light.

He’s a beam of positivity for the entirety of the Resistance, but that increases tenfold when you’re someone he really cares about, like Finn or Rey or, most of all, you. There’s nothing he would stop at to make you smile.

Your life is a constant struggle, it’s been war as long as you can remember. You cherish the little pockets of peace and calm, holding onto the good memories for when things go dark. Sometimes, though, things can get a little too dark, and you need a little help that Poe is all too happy to offer.

Poe struggles too, and it’s not something he hides, but it’s so much easier for him to stay positive when his friends are rallied around him, smiles on their faces despite the dark times. That’s the real weapon, he thinks, the ability to smile and find joy in the darkest of times. A little bit of hope can go a long way, and he makes sure it spreads.

In spending so much time together, Poe’s become familiar with all the ways to bring you back up, to pull you back from that dark place. You like being distracted, taken for walks in nature or sitting in front of a holo together. You like being able to stay in bed together for a few seconds longer, wrapped up in each other’s arms.

Any string that Poe could pull is pulled when you’re feeling down. Suddenly, the two of you have a day off at the same time, giving you all the time to relax and soak up time with each other, an infrequent opportunity you plan to make the best of.

Though, it turns out you don’t need to plan anything, because Poe has it handled.

Your morning starts slow and soft, waking once you’re rested instead of being pulled from your sleep by the blaring of an alarm. Poe is still warm against you, arms looped loosely around your shoulders and a sleepy little smile on his face. Too soon for your liking though, he gets out of bed and heads for the small kitchen in your quarters.

Eventually, you join him, taking a blanket from your bed with you to fight off the chill.

“Where’d you get that?” You ask, nodding your head towards the fruit he’s in the middle of cutting up.

“Stole it,” he shrugs, “commander privileges.” You can’t help but laugh at him, stealing a piece of the cut up fruit before you wander back to bed.

The whole morning is spent together, giggling and feeding each other pieces of stolen fruit, wrapped up in the warmth of being with the person you care about most. Poe’s thought of everything, and the entire day is perfect and relaxing and makes you feel ten times lighter.

Whenever you’re with Poe, whether it’s for a minute or a day or a second, it’s easy to forget that you’re in the middle of a war. He makes life easy for you just by existing, but on days when he gets the opportunity to go above and beyond is showing his affection, you swear you’ve never been happier.

#poe dameron #poe dameron x reader #poe dameron x you #poe dameron fanfiction #poe dameron fanfic #star wars #star wars fanfiction #7 days of valentines

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iamstartraveller776 · 1 year

Text

HALADRIEL WEEK: FAMILY AND FLUFF

A/N: Listen. LISTEN. I do not do fluff and family very well. Crack fic is all I've got. Also, this is a little over 700 words. (Special shout out to @meohme-thedorklord just because.)

DIRTY LAUNDRY (ao3)

“And we’re back in five, four…” The production assistant finishes the countdown silently with her fingers, and Maury adjusts his collar.

“Welcome back to the Maury Povich Show!” he announces to the camera. “If you’re just joining us, we have some very special guests—Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel from Lothlorien. Now, tell us why you’re here.”

The pair of golden-haired elves look regal in their elegant robes and silvery circlets. “We were invited to share tips for a lasting marriage,” Celeborn answers.

Maury nods. “And you’ve been married for a few thousand years?”

“Yes.”

“It’s been a good marriage, correct? No bumps along the way?”

“None,” Celeborn says with confidence.

“That’s interesting,” Maury replies. “Because there’s someone here today with a different story.” The crowd reacts with hushed murmurs and gasps. “In fact, my next guest says that you spent nearly an entire age apart,” Maury goes on. “Is that true?”

The elves exchange tense glances. “There was a war,” she says. “And Celeborn was missing. I—”

“Why don’t we wait until everyone involved is here first,” Maury interrupts. “Please welcome Sauron, the Dark Lord of Mordor, to the stage.”

The audience ripples with noises of apprehension and anticipation. Color drains from Galadriel’s face and Celeborn nearly rises to his feet, outrage pinching his features. Wearing a starless, spiky crown, Sauron saunters onstage with a feral grin, his fiery gaze pinned on the Lady of Light as he takes his seat.

“Sauron,” Maury says “—I can call you Sauron, right?”

The Dark Lord shrugs. “Galadriel might prefer it if you called me Halbrand.”

“Deceiver!” she spits.

Maury raises a hand. “Now, now. You’ll each get a chance to tell your side of the story.” He gestures toward Sauron. “Let’s start with you. You’ve told us that you and Galadriel forged a deep bond during the time that Lord Celeborn was missing.”

“We did,” Sauron replies the same moment Galadriel says, “I didn’t know who he was!”

Maury looks between the pair. “There’s even more to the story, isn’t there?”

Galadriel aims a glare at Sauron as if in silent warning, but he smirks back at her. “You mean aside from when she declared that something greater than fate brought us together?”

“That’s pretty serious,” Maury agrees. “But you’ve got another shocking revelation for us.”

“I do, Maury.” Sauron gives the elves a smug grin. “Celebrían is my daughter.”

Celeborn leaps out of his seat, jabbing a finger toward the Dark Lord. “Lies!”

“I can prove it,” Sauron explains calmly. He turns his attention to the audience. “You see, there’s an important fact of the hröar. The Ainur lose the ability to shapeshift when we have children.”

“Or when you remain in a form for too long!” Galadriel counters.

“As much as you love this fair face,” Sauron argues back, his eyes glowing brighter, “do you think I would restrict myself to this weakened human form?” Shadows curl at his feet.

“Perhaps the Valar finally cursed you for your evil deeds!” Celeborn chimes in with another accusatory jab.

Sauron stands up, darkness climbing up his body like ghost armor. “Careful, elf. You’re only alive because she holds affection for you.” He gives the other man a dismissive once-over. “Though, I cannot see why.”

Celeborn sneers, but Maury talks over him. “Speaking of the Valar, we contacted them to see if they could tell us what Celebrían’s lineage is. And they were able to.”

The production assistant dashes forward to hand Maury a scroll. “Are you ready to hear the results?” The crowd cheers. “Celeborn? Galadriel?”

Celeborn takes his seat and waves a hand dejectedly. Galadriel looks stricken.

“Sauron?”

The Dark Lord crosses his arms. “By all means.”

Maury opens the scroll and studies it. “When it comes to the lineage of Celebrían, daughter of Galadriel of the Noldor, Daughter of the Golden House of Finarfin, Sauron—” he pauses for dramatic effect, “—you are the father.”

The audience goes wild as Celeborn leaves the stage in disgust.

Sauron points at Galadriel with vindication on his face. “Did I not say? Did I not say?”

“I will not let you infect her with your darkness!” she bites out.

The argument continues while Maury turns to the camera. “Unfortunately we’re out of time. Tune in next time when we invite our Middle Earth friends back where Lord Celeborn will finally tell his wife where he was during the second age—and it’s not what you think.”

~FIN~

#haladrielweek #haladriel week #haladriel #saurondriel #crack fic #my fic #trop #otp: one ship to rule them all #dirty laundry #i don't even know what this is tbh

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welcometothemurdercapital · 2 years

Text

The Bonfire

Fem!Reader X David

A/N: The last installment of the Date Night stories, Date Night, Night at the Arcade, and Overlooking the City. This took the longest because I find David the hardest to write for, so I hope I did him justice and didn’t mess with his character too much.

Date night with David

David was the clear leader of the boys and had a reputation around the boardwalk as the stern guy with a ‘too cool for anything’ attitude. The boys were a staple on the boardwalk and David could always be seen in the middle of the group silently watching people pass or gearing up to cause trouble. Very few were actually brave enough to step up to the boys, but David was especially intimidating with his nonchalant attitude and confident demeanor.

Whenever she was with the boys, particularly when she was saddled up behind him on his bike or under his arm as they walked, people would look at her with either looks of jealousy, usually those who found the boys attractive, or confusion, probably wondering if she was with them by choice. She didn’t pay them any mind as they had no idea what was going on between them.

David wasn’t a fan of copious amounts of PDA, but he had no issue staking his claim on her whenever they were on the boardwalk. There was no question of who she ran with and everyone, even the surf nazi’s, knew not to fuck with her. Occasionally someone new to town or a tourist would try their hand at flirting or let a gaze linger for too long and David would appear from seemingly nowhere and make it known she was taken. Whether or not they ended up on a flyer depended on how respectful they were to the rejection.

Despite his tough attitude, she knew he could actually be affectionate; in his own way. He didn’t show his affection in traditional ways, hand holding or public kisses, but he showed it in ways that were uniquely David. He showed it in how he always made her feel safe, cared for, and protected. Even when she couldn’t see him, she knew he was nearby based on how people reacted to her. People always seemed to give her space and no one seemed to give her any grief. She never had to want for anything because if she just mentioned something, that she was hungry or that she liked something she saw in a shop, then suddenly it appeared before her. David was a great provider, for both her and the boys, and it was one of the many reasons she loved and respected him.

She wasn’t entirely sure what to expect from her night with him as he could be unpredictable. He had once taken her for the classic dinner and a movie date, but he ended it with moves that made her thankful there was no one else in the theater. Another time he had taken her to the local lovers lane where they spent the whole night just talking and cuddling against his bike. David could turn things on a dime so she always had to be on her toes with him

“So where are we going?” He was being uncharacteristically quiet, and it was slightly unnerving her. He wasn’t nearly as energetic as Paul or Marko, but he still carried a dominant energy that included telling her what to do or what he had decided they were going to do leaving zero room for discussion or debate. There was none of that tonight; he just led her to his bike and they were off.

“You didn’t think I forgot, did you?” He called back never taking his eyes off the road in front of him.

“I would hope not with the amount of reminders you’ve been given recently.” She felt his chest bounce with his quiet laugh but he didn’t answer her question.

He pulled off the road into a small clearing between the trees. Probably any other time she would’ve been more wary of being in the forest in the dark, but she always felt safe with David, with any of the boys, and knew that he would protect her from anything that would try and harm her.

“Here we are.” He pulled up to a small clearing and killed the bike. She knew they were at a popular spot for bonfire parties due to its seclusion. Her eyes scanned the bonfire space, taking in the various chairs, blankets, and coolers of food. The whole scene was very un-David like and it threw her off.

“Did you do all this?” He looked around and did a half shrug, which was more in character for him.

“Sort of, the occupants were dinner. I just messed with a few things here and there. Mostly getting rid of the bodies- not the most romantic.” He downplayed his involvement, which didn’t surprise her. Despite enjoying attention on him, she knew he thrived when people stared at him, he often downplayed things he did.

“So, you do have some sort of concept of romance.” She was merely teasing him; she’d seen his romantic side countless times through his small gestures. He was always very conservative with his words, opting to show his love through actions. There hadn’t been a night that had gone by where she didn’t feel his love.

“Don’t let the boys know.” He smiled at her. She loved his genuine smile; it was so soft and genuine that she melted every time she saw it.

“Come on, this is the cleanest spot.” He said sitting on the log and gesturing her next to him.

She watched as he dug through the various coolers to find food and drinks, laughing to herself as he cursed the previous owners.

“Can’t even have decent beer. Cheap assholes.” He muttered pulling out a can of Drewrys extra dry beer. Once he was satisfied enough with what he found, he passed her a hot dog and can of beer. Not her usual diet, but thieves can’t be picky.

They ate with idle conversation, David mostly complaining about their taste in food, but she didn’t pay that any mind; she was just happy to be with him.

“I like this.” She said cuddling into his neck, breathing in the heady scent that was uniquely him; cigarette smoke, gasoline, ocean air, the slight tang of copper, and his own unique musk.

“What? Eating other people’s food? I’m not sold on this bunch. I mean, honestly, who puts mayonnaise on a hotdog.” He sneered looking at the hotdog in his hand causing her to giggle. “They made for better food then they actually brought with them.”

“No, your softer more carefree side.” She smiled at him. “I understand you often have to corral the others and be the voice of reason, but I truly love when I get to see this side of you.” He smiled down at her and sweetly pressed his lips to hers.

“I love you.” He said softly. Her smile widened and she brought her hand up to cup his jaw and kissed him again. She lightly tugged on his short beard hairs causing him to moan into her mouth. It had initially surprised her when she figured out he was into hair pulling, but she took every advantage of it she could.

“I love you.” Out of all the boys, David said ‘I love you’ the least so she couldn’t help it whenever her heard it, her heart would skip a beat before going crazy. She didn’t mind that he didn’t say it often though, much like Paul’s constant horniness, Marko’s proclivity for fighting, or Dwayne’s quiet demeanor; she loved David for exactly who he was any she wouldn’t change a thing about him.

“So you’re happy? With us I mean.” He threw his arm over her shoulder and brought her flush against him. He was comfortably soft underneath all his layers and she nestled into his side, resting her head on his shoulder.

“Unbelievably so. It’s almost surprising to find such comfort and stability in a place full of grifters, drifters, and runaways.” She quietly laughed. When she had arrived in Santa Carla, what felt like ages ago at this point, she had no idea what was waiting for her. She never would’ve imagined this would be her life with four great men who loved her and looked after her. What was supposed to be a short stop on her journey turned into a permanent home and she thanked her lucky stars everyday.

“Good.”

“Where did that come from?” It wasn’t like him to bring up emotions and matters of the heart.

“I just wanted to make sure. We’re not the traditional hot guys all the girls want. I know we all just want you to be happy.” She stared at him in disbelief as she tried to process his words.

“I know you can’t use a mirror, but you guys are the epitome of the hot guys that all the girls want. You must not be aware of all the dirty looks I get whenever I’m around you.”

“Too busy glaring at all the guys who stare at your ass.” He retorted.

“Well it’s true. You guys are all fucking hot. That said, I’m incredibly happy not just your looks, but your personalities. You guys are the greatest people I know and I wouldn’t trade you for anyone in the world.” She said trying to convey how much honesty and conviction she was feeling through her words.

David was silent for a while as he stared at her, almost as if he was reading her thoughts. Eventually a slow smile grew on his face and he shook his head.

“This is getting too sappy.”

“You brought it up.” She defended. He nodded in concession before grinning at her.

“We could always fuck right here.” David suggested with a wiggle if his eyebrows, looking more like Paul than himself. She wasn’t even surprised by the quick turn in conversation. He wasn’t one to dwell on emotions for too long.

“Oh yes,” she began sarcastically, “all this dried blood in such a mood setter.”

“Doesn’t bother me at all.” He shrugged as he easily pulled her into his lap.

“No surprise there. However, I’d like to think I’m a little classier than that.”

“Oh really? Need I remind you about that one time on the boardwalk on those tables where-”

“Alright, alright. I get it. Not the classiest woman out there.” She said clamping a hand over his mouth to stop his little trip down memory lane. She could feel his grin behind her hand. Once she was sure he wouldn’t continue, she dropped her hand to see him still grinning at her.

“I’m just saying, I’m always available.”

#the lost boys david #david x reader #tlb david #david the lost boys #kiefer sutherland #David tlb x reader

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porvajsjd · 1 year

Text

Love in Spring

If I’m reading this to you over call on 14th I love you.

If I’m sending you this through an email or a text I still love you the same as I did when I first laid my eyes on you.

But If you’re sitting in front of me while I read this to you, kiss me as if this is the last time we’re seeing each other.

It’s been 1 year, 12 months, 39 days and a couple of minutes since I’ve been in love with you vaadish singh.

And you’ve turned my life upside down. Quite literally. There is absolutely no doubt within my heart, that I am meant to be with you and you to be with me. At least in this lifetime.

Since we are parting ways, perhaps I don’t know for how long, I feel I must unburden my heart. You are the fond object of my affection and my desire. You are what I crave for. You are what I want to settle for, and if it’s not you I don’t want it.

I think you understand what it takes me to think about you and not think about the visible distance between us.

I trust you, I love you.

I do not believe I'll find another like you, another like us.

This is my love letter to you.

You can be with someone for years and never know what real love is and fall in love truly and completely after weeks spent with someone who literally redefines what it means to be happy. Love doesn't always fit into a timeframe. Talk about time. Something we are running short of. You know, when two souls fall in love, there is nothing else but the yearning to be close to the other. The presence that is felt through a hand held, a voice heard, or a smile seen. And I want to see you, every second, every hour, every day, every month. Souls do not have calendars or clocks, nor do they understand the notion of time or distance. They only know it feels right to be with one another. This is the reason why you miss someone so much when they are not there.

Being with you has made me realised that love is never perfect. Love is messy, love makes you see things in the other person that no one else does, love makes you look out for your significant other. I’ve always wanted that perfect boyfriend, perfect relationship, perfect love, but you’ve made me understand one can't control everything.

Thank you for teaching me this.

You have me on my knees begging for just a little more time with you, please just stay a bit longer. Stay so I can hold you a little longer because even forever isn’t enough for me to soak in the love you give me. But you also have me having a big smile on my face and keeping all my tears bottled up while wishing you the best for your future and ours too.

Why is it that when you’re away from me I’ve got so much to say to you on my mind, yet when you’re there in front of me I forget what I had to say and just stare at you in awe. Why is it that every time you say goodbye my heart breaks a little not knowing when I’ll see you next? Guess you’ve broken my heart quite a lot of times then.

Why am I in love with you?

This question seems so simple, yet it is one of the most complex questions I have ever gotten. So where do I begin?

I’m in love with the way your eyes sparkle when you talk about something you like, and it’s so rare. I’m in love with the way you’d scrunch your nose as you laugh at your friends’ hysterical yet cringy comment. I’m in love with the way you’d crack stupid jokes at me and I would find you absolutely hilarious and adorable. I’m in love with the way your eyes focus intensely at your phone when you’re booking a cab. I love how you seem like the most popular guy at school but deep down inside you’re a dork. I love the sound of your charming voice when it calls out for my name. I love the way your lips curve themselves into a stupid smile when you see me. I love the way you’d immediately pay extra attention to the conversation when my name is mentioned. I love how you’d never let your friend talk shit about me. I love the way you fidget when I’m near you because I make you nervous. I love the way you’d constantly lock your eyes with mine. I love how your eyes search for mine even when there are hundreds of other eyes around you. I love how oblivious you can be at times, especially when we’re merely a few meters apart and I catch you staring at me from the corner of my eyes. I’m in love with the way you smile at me from the audience when you know I’m singing for you. I love it when you look at me, I love the way you say my name, I love it when you snap ur fingers on my head, call me names. I love the way you hold my waist and kiss me as if you’re about to devour me. I love it when you kiss my forehead, neck, hands every part of my body. There are endless reasons why I am in love with you but that would take me forever to tell you. So for now, I’ll just keep it short and simple and say, the reason why I am in love with you is that you, are you. And that’s why I am in love with you.

Put your trust in the universe, and me too. Some things are just meant to happen, and some are not. Let go of whatever is stealing your happiness, it's hard but it is worth it. I don’t want you to ever feel lonely, because I’ll always be there to hold your hand and kiss it when you want.

You deserve to be chosen undoubtedly over and over again, not merely considered. And I want to have the honour to choose you forever.

Thank you for always being there for me when I need you. Thank you so much for helping me heal, learn how to love again. Thank you for being the reason I started writing again.

Forgive me for every song, every poem, every prose is for you my only, love. For I can’t stop loving you, ever.

I’ve made you my poetry, I’ve made you my muse and I’ve made you mine.

I love love love love love love love you.

#love #love letter #writing #writers on tumblr #love letter.txt #love letter: My true feelings #literature #poets on tumblr #fyp

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