#And Care too!! I haven't drawn her in even longer... | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

factual-fantasy · 7 months

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27 ASK :)))))🍤🍤🍤

I do not.. but man I really need to give them names. I intend to name my FNAF au before drawing Moon Malfunction 2.0. And my Deltarune AU... ehhh.. idk, I'll just see if anything comes to me <XD (I'm open to suggestions! :0 )

@eggswastaken

Thank you! But sorry, no fanart rule. I wouldn't like for anyone to draw my AUs Asgore.. Thank you for asking first though <:) A lot of people would have just drawn it and not have cared to ask.

:DD Thank you so much!! :}}}

@luna-purple454

AAA THANK YOU FELLOW ASGORE ENJOYER! XDD

As for his backstory I don't really have any new ideas.. but as for the future?

I have ideas of Asgore seeing other versions of people he used to know. And it really hurts him. Like maybe they pass by and AU where he sees a Toriel. And his heart just aches. Or he sees a Gerson or Gaster, and he just longs for those people. He misses them and it kills him that he cant ever go back home.

Imagine if he met a Toriel that hated Asgore, post murdering kids. And she understands that he's a different Asgore but she cant help but be cold towards him. That might hurt worse than just missing his family. Someone with his wife's face being indirectly disappointed in him. Ashamed of him, angry at him. He never did those things that her Asgore did. But she still glares at him out of habit. And that kills him more than anything. And don't even get me started when he hears about the horrible fates this AUs Asriel and Chara suffered.

I can imagine that like Grillby, his body becomes more unstable the more emotional he is. Maybe they walk through an AU where Asgore meets that Toriel. And by the time they're ready to leave Asgore is wrecked. Seeing all these people broke his spirit. His body has significantly dissolved and he can no longer walk. All he does is hang his head low and weep. Saying he cant move.. and he wants to go home..

Jevil might be able to take the whole group to another AU, despite Asgore's state. But likely they'd just camp out for an extra day or so until Asgore can pull himself back together..

Aw, I'm sorry you're sick, that's no fun. <:( But I'm glad my artwork is helping you feel a bit better :}}}

@cudlycorncornsworthcoberson

Positively giddy my dear fellow

@elegysonnet

I haven't seen it yet, but it looks good and I plan to watch it! :0

@pinkbomb08

:D Thank you! Even if you have nothing to ask, I don't mind a nice message! :}}

@veeneeyyyy

Thank you! And hey man. Being down on yourself about your artwork is just gonna make you feel worse and slowly chip away at your confidence. Trust me, I've been there.

Try your best to always say something positive about the art that you make. No matter how much you think/believe that its bad. And never follow it up with anything bad either, "the face came out nice... but this hand looks terrible-" No. None of that. Actively force yourself to never say anything negative about your art out loud and always search for things that you like in the piece. If you seriously cant find a single thing to be positive about, then say "well I did my best. And I improved a little at art because I drew this."

Trust me man. From personal experience it will do wonders for your self confidence. Eventually that confidence will become second nature. Fake it till you make it.💪

@nutty-candy-lover

WAAA THANK YOUUUUU HHHGHFIIUSDAFI💖💖💖😭😭

REALLY THANK YOU SO MUCH!! I take so much pride in my expressions and angst! I've never really been the best at expressing my stories through dialogue. So I express it through body language instead!

A big chunk of the drawing time is the sketching and the line art. Trying my best to get specific expressions and poses. Like in this post! Most of the line art time was spent making sure that Grillby and Asgore eyes were juuuust right. And that Asgore's hug didn't look too tight or like Grillby couldn't pull away if he needed to. More like he was holding/supporting Grillby with 1 arm, and resting his hand on his back with the other.

I always have this thought process while drawing of "his pose looks a bit stiff, his shoulders aren't drooped down enough. He's grieving, so he needs to look heavier. His eyebrows should be furrowed a bit tighter. No now he looks angry, less furrow, more tears. His tears look too fresh. He needs to look like he's cried a lot recently. Okay thinner tears and marks around the eyes-" things like that.

I enjoy drawing these physical expressions so much and I really try to make them look good. So to hear that you see that effort I put in and you really like it?? wwAAA AWOOOOGOROOG😭😭💖🍤💓💖💘THANK YOU WAAAAAA

@cupcake-kingdom

Sort of..? I think they would have a decent relationship. I imagined him being a cold father but sometimes shows that he cares in his own special way.

Like for example. A comic that I never got around to drawing started with Bowser having a nightmare about Mario. When he wakes up, he proceeds to roam from room to room around his castle. Checking on all of his kids 1 by 1. He could stop by and maybe close their open windows, tuck them back in if their blankets were kicked off. A stuffed animal fell off the bed so he puts it back.

I think I planned for him to make it to JRs room. And instead of just checking and leaving, he goes and scoops JR up and take him back to his room. He also checks on Kamek and the Commander. before going back to bed with JR.

That might be a good way to explain it. He like- he loves his kids, he does. But he's just super weird about showing it and can only be truly tender towards them when something like that nightmare happens.

I don't believe so no. :/

I'm not sure, I haven't seen the Amazing Digital Circus yet <XD

@growing-past-me

Woah woah woah- slow down for a sec, Jevil and Seam are strictly friends through and through.😅 I personally don't support/enjoy ships of any kind. Its just really not my taste. :/

But yes! Which ever story I end up going with, Jevil and Seam escape their AU together and rekindle their friendship. :}

Yes! It is! :DD

Its also a double whammy though because its also meant to parallel Foxy having his mouth tied shut and his hook being removed. 👀👀

I haven't really thought about it too much..

Perhaps they'd feel betrayed? Because Freddy, Foxy and Bonnie all lied to them to keep Gregory a secret? Maybe there would be fighting because Chica and the others think they should call security but Freddy insists that they dont?

Maybe they would think that Freddy is malfunctioning because of how hard he pushing against their protocol? Maybe they'd call security on Freddy because of how he's acting..? Who knows <XD

As for how they acted the night Gregory was there.. man.. they wouldn't know what to say. Some might not even believe it happened, some would be ashamed.. it would be a hard pill to swallow for sure :(

@random-entity-363

XDD he really does use the power of tape to fix things doesn't he? I think he was also just a bit lucky that a lot of the damage on Bonnies body could just be poorly taped back into place.

I supposes that Staff bots could be used to aid Foxy is certain shows of his. But ultimately he is meant to be a 1 man band while preforming in Pirates cove <:/

"Bonnie you have no business being this larg" XDD

I've seen that all over Tumblr in the past few days. I really gotta get around to watching it <XD

@beryl-shade

I suppose its always possible. Although with how I've structured my Vanessa and the "bug", I don't think anyone/anything would make Bonnie do that..

XDD Yeah I can see them freaking out. As would anyone!

Well Bonnie didn't become this way over night. It was a slow process over the span of ten years. Years of constantly being overwhelmed with his performances, interacting with large crowds that he's not designed to process, his friends not giving him space when he really needed it.. He just slowly crumbled more and more until now he's just this cold, angry and rude individual.

However,, when it comes to Vanessa he's not that bad.

Bonnie is designed for interacting with groups of no more then 10 people at a time. He's even better at 1-1 interactions. And that's what Vanessa is. Just 1 person to process. Just 1 child.

And unlike most other kids that Bonnie deals with, she is very shy and quiet. She almost talks less then Bonnie does. That could be why Bonnie was Vanessa's favorite character. She preferred characters who weren't as loud as Monty or as active as Foxy. A slow moving, mellow animatronic is what she was drawn to.

I've imagined them interacting. Bonnie would ask her a question and she would just nod. If she were scared/sad she might not rush to Bonnie for a hug. Rather just sheepishly sit next to him and hold his hand.

What I'm trying to say is, she matches Bonnie's energy pretty well. Bonnie is not scary to her and Vanessa isn't overwhelming for Bonnie. I imagined them camping out in Bonnies room. The darkness makes Vanessa feel hidden, so she actually prefers it. She's shy so she doesn't really say much to Bonnie.. But she feels safe with him.

Maybe she squeaks out a little; "..thank you for helping me.." Bonnie could then turn his head a little and nod. Vanessa could smile and then curl up next to Bonnie. Eventually falling asleep.

They could work, and maybe their bond isn't the same as Freddy and Gregory's, but that doesn't mean it's lesser. Or that they're not as close. I think they're just right for each other. An overwhelmed animatronic mixed with a really quiet kid is a good mix I'd say :0

(Post in question)

I don't have an answer for either <XD

He was just reading "a book" and Kwazii was about to do "a dumb thing"-

@ocinstituterep

I haven't really given their exact ages much thought. Though I kind'a have an age range..? I feel like Barnacles is 40-50 years old. Maybe closer to 40.? Inkling is like in his 60-70s.

Dashi, Shellington, Kwazii, Tweak and Peso are all just bunched together between 20 and 40 years old. But Peso could be the youngest of the 5 and Kwazii the oldest maybe..?

The Vegimals are all under 10 I think.

I have not drawn that before no :/

Also that fact list was fun! XDD

#my response #octonauts #undertale #deltarune #fnaf security breach

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willalove75 · 11 months

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Rebecca and reader soft subtle touches ,stolen glances . I'd imagine it would be a slow burn between them but the lightning strike feeling when their fingers brush or they sit close to each other .

I LOVE this!! Thank you so much for the request!💕💕

After working for Richmond for a few years, you were finally able to earn that promotion you've been eyeing. Your first week in your new position was stressful, but in a good way, you were learning a lot and much to your surprise, you enjoyed working so closely with Rebecca.

When you first started working at Richmond you avoided her like the plague, she was cold, unfriendly and a little bit of a bitch. Luckily you didn't have to be around her too much so avoiding her was relatively easy. You're not sure when she changed, or what caused the shift in her attitude, but you're grateful that it happened.

Rebecca was actually a very warm, funny, even a loving person. You witnessed this first hand when you would go into her office and find her talking to Keeley during their "girl talk" sessions. Slowly the two of them started inviting you to them, you never really had work friends, with your new position not only were you making friends, you were becoming friends with the owner and the head of PR.

During most of the girl talk sessions you never really opened up, you just gave your opinions and insights to the two women about whatever they were discussing. That all changed after you came into work one day and Rebecca and Keeley both noticed you were off. The day barely started before you were dragged into Rebecca's office with Keeley, both of them concerned about you and wanted to find out what was bothering you.

You revealed that you had been in a long-term relationship and the two of you broke up the night before, leaving you heartbroken. The look on their faces brought you comfort, you could tell they cared about you and it meant a lot. Both Keeley and Rebecca were surprised to learn that you had been dating a woman for the last few years, neither of them knowing you were bi.

It surprised you when Rebecca wrapped her arms around you and pulled you into a warm embrace when you told them that your girlfriend had cheated on you. She knew better than anyone what that was like, it made you feel a little better knowing you were able to confide in someone who went through a similar experience.

The three of you became closer when you finally opened up to them, once that wall came down, you were an open book. It was unfamiliar because you never had girl friends to talk to like that before, but the closer the three of you got, the easier opening up to them became.

As the weeks went by you found yourself drawn to Rebecca, catching yourself staring at her during meetings, thinking about her when you were bored, imagining her arms wrapped around you when you fell asleep at night. The thoughts you had embarrassed you a little, feeling like a school girl with a crush on her teacher. But Rebecca always returned your smiles, you even thought you caught her looking your way a few times.

You were convinced that it was all in your head until one day you were sitting with Rebecca in her office, Keeley was in a meeting so she couldn't make your usual girl talk sessions. There was a moment of fear that you would make an ass of yourself or put your foot in your mouth, especially since you really haven't had a lot of time with Rebecca alone, there was almost always someone else there. To your pleasant surprise, the nerves melted away quickly and the conversation flowed freely. You felt your heart do a summersault when she placed her hand on your leg, it could have been innocent, but the way she quickly retracted her hand gave you the impression that she was fearful she overstepped. As you were leaving her office she pulled you in for a hug, you made a bold decision to hug her for just a moment longer than usual. Rebecca melted into you a little, and you melted into her. With a soft blush across her cheeks, you said your goodbyes and went your separate ways.

The pattern continued for the next few weeks, you would put your hand on her arm, her hand would find its way to your leg. She would squeeze your hand a little tighter during intense matches, you would find yourself getting lost in her gorgeous green eyes.

Every time your skin would make contact you felt electricity in your body, even if you were exhausted, one hug, one slight touch from Rebecca would jolt you awake. The feeling was stronger than any cup of coffee you've ever had and you loved it. Being around her was like a drug, her intoxicating perfume, her infectious laughter, her touches were so warm, so gentle, you never wanted her fingers to leave your skin.

You both began to sit closer to each other, whether it be sitting directly next to each other in meetings or sitting on her office couch so closely your legs were touching. The closer you were to her, the safer you felt and the more your heart swelled. Your school girl crush evolved into a full on desperation for her touch.

Even Keeley began to notice the change in the way you two acted around each other. Giving both of you silent side eye looks when the other wasn't looking, making up excuses to leave the girl talk sessions early so you two could be alone. She even went as far as talking to you about how lovely Rebecca is, and not so subtly mentioning that Rebecca had expressed interest in "dipping her toes back into the lady pool." Keeley would do the same with Rebecca, telling her how kind and gentle you are, how you were able to move on from your breakup and how you were looking for someone more "mature."

The two of you danced around each other in the office for months, always catching the other staring, you noticed that her eyes lit up differently when she saw you in the hall as opposed to anyone else in the building. Never before had you had butterflies like this in your life, every time you saw her, heard her voice, even smelled her perfume, the fluttering in your belly was so intense you thought you were going to float away.

It all came to a head one day after a particularly devastating match. Rebecca had stormed off after the final whistle, you and Keeley exchanging concerned looks.

"Is she okay?" You ask Keeley.

"I have no idea, she didn't look okay. We should go check on her."

Both you and Keeley made your way to her office. As you made your way up the stairs you turn and see Keeley on her phone, not following you.

"You okay?" You ask her.

"Uh, yeah, sorry I have to run. But go check on her, I'll talk to you later!" She says before turning and running away.

"Well that was weird." You think to yourself.

As you walk up to Rebecca's office door you can see through the small crack. With the little light in her office, you can just barely make out Rebecca sitting on the couch. Your knuckles lightly knock against the door and you wait for a response.

"Who is it?" She asks.

"It's me." You say, slowly opening the door.

"Oh, y/n."

Closing the door behind you, you slowly walk up to the couch and sit next to Rebecca. Looking into her green eyes you see sadness.

"Are you okay?" You gently ask.

Rebecca looks away and takes a deep breath.

"Yeah, just been a rough day is all."

You carefully hold onto her hand in her lap and she turns back towards you.

"Is there anything I can do?"

"Unless you can magically make Rupert disappear, I don't think so."

A knot forms in your stomach when you hear his name. Rupert, Rebecca's dickhead of an ex-husband has been harassing her ever since the divorce. He genuinely enjoys upsetting her, it makes you sick to your stomach.

A stray tear falls from her eyes and you wipe it away with your thumb, leaving your hand to rest on her face, caressing her cheek.

Time stands still as you gaze into her eyes, the whole world melts away, leaving just the two of you. Rebecca gently leans in, her lips just barely brushing against yours. Biting your lower lip, your breath hitches when you feel her warm breath against your skin.

Goosebumps scatter across your body when Rebecca slides her hand around your waist. You rest your head against hers, your lips still just barely touching, you so desperately want to slam your lips into hers, but you're both reveling in the anticipation, drawing it out until neither of you can handle it anymore.

Her eyes meet yours once more, her gaze softer, more loving than the sadness you saw earlier.

"Rebecca." You whisper.

She slowly nods her head, closing her eyes.

"I- can I?"

You both close the distance, her full soft lips finally meeting yours. She feels you gasp into the kiss, her lips sending a bolt of electricity through your body. Pulling you closer Rebecca deepens the kiss, her tongue pushes through your lips and into your mouth as you welcome her into you. Rebecca softly moans into your mouth as you suck on her lip. Her nails dig into the fabric of your shirt, your hands grabbing eagerly at her hair on the back of her head.

The passionate kiss quickly turns into a sloppy, heated make out session as Rebecca pulls you into her lap. Straddling her you feel her drag her nails down your back, eliciting a sinful moan from you into her mouth.

Rebecca kisses down your jaw and down your neck, sucking and kissing you, marking you, leaving her claim of you on your skin. You don't know how many hickeys she's leaving in her wake but you don't care.

The heated session begins to slow, just before it heats up again you and Rebecca hear a squeal from behind you. Quickly turning your head, you see Keeley and Roy standing in Rebecca's office. You feel your cheeks turn dark red, suddenly grateful for the lack of light.

Turning towards Rebecca, she has the same shocked look on her face as you do. Her eyes shift to you and a smile slowly crosses her face as she begins to chuckle. Covering your face with your hands, wishing you could disappear, Rebecca laughs and pulls you down onto her shoulder and holds you close.

"See?!" Keeley says. "I told you both you were into each other! I'm such a great fucking matchmaker!"

You and Rebecca begin to laugh, your hands finally leaving your face.

"Well, we will leave you both to it. I expect a full report Monday morning!" She says before taking Roy by the hand and leading him out of the office.

You gaze into Rebecca's eyes, you see nothing but happiness and love, there's a warmth in her eyes you've never seen before.

"I love you." You whisper, the words leaving your lips before you're able to catch them.

Rebecca's pupils dilate and you feel your stomach fall.

"I love you too." She whispers with a smile, gently pulling you into another deep kiss.

#rebecca welton x reader #hannah waddingham #rebecca welton #willalove75 #rebecca welton fanfic #ted lasso #ted lasso fic #wlw fanfic

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nonstoplover · 2 years

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unstoppable apologies ~ bradley 'rooster' bradshaw

my masterlist | my imagines masterlist

pairing: bradley 'rooster' bradshaw x female benjamin!reader

summary: rooster can't find the courage to ask penny's daughter out, right up until one especially tipsy night when things take a turn.

words: 4.4K

warnings: nothing really, except a lot of fluff. oh. it's not proof read.

a/n: this is my first time writing for Top Gun, even though i've been obsessed with it for many years. i guess seeing Goose's son brought it out of me. i literally haven't thought about anything else but Rooster these past weeks. he even managed to bring me out of this half a year long writer's block. (thank you miles.) anyway. this turned into a much longer fic than i originally intended, but i'm not sorry about it.

i dedicate this one to my lovely @wecomrades (even though i know you don't like reading reader insert, i'm sorry), for being my partner in crime when it comes to obsessing over Rooster and TG and also for supporting me as always. i love you so much, L <3

It's been only two weeks since (y/n)'s started working at the Hard Deck when Penny decides to put up an addition to the sign announcing the bar's rules, saying that whoever makes eyes and/or relentlessly flirts with the bartenders will have to buy a round for everyone.

"Mom, what is this?" (y/n) groans the next day when she comes in for her shift, eyes landing on the piece of cardboard.

"Sorry, sweetie, but I'm not letting all these men undress you with their eyes. Not without a punishment anyway," Penny shrugs. "If someone wants to flirt with you, they should be serious enough about it to bear the consequences and pay a round."

"I hope you know just how embarrassing this is for me."

"Embarrassment is better than non-stop horny glances."

The girl just sighs with a roll of her eyes and goes on to help her mother clean the counter.

- - - - -

"Come on, Bradshaw, stop overthinking it," Phoenix grabs her friend's arm to slightly pull him in the right direction. "It's not like you haven't gone up there and talked to her before."

"I know, I just don't want to be too obvious with how it's always me going there. What if she doesn't like me back?" Rooster shakes his head, trying to get his arm free again.

"What if she does?" The female pilot retorts without a second of thinking. "Look, we all want another round of drinks, so please just move and get over it. Order our drinks while we continue this game."

Rooster sighs, bracing himself for the inevitable - the conversation with the girl he's developed the most ridiculous crush on. He sometimes feels like he's back in high school with the way he acts and his mind works whenever she gets in the picture, but he can't help it. There's something about her that makes him feel drawn to her when they're in-between the same four walls, making him lose all sense of rationality.

What if she does? The way Phoenix said it somehow suggested to him that she might know something he doesn't. What if?, the words keep on repeating in his head as he walks up to the counter with a little more bounce in his steps thanks to the alcohol buzzing in his system.

"(y/n) darlin', can you get us another round?" He leans in, palms spreading out on the wooden surface, his eyes focused on nothing else but the girl.

"Honestly, what is it with your group? Why can't anyone else come but you?" (y/n) giggles as she starts moving around, getting him their choice of drinks.

"Oh, be careful with your words, lady, in the end I'm gonna think you'd prefer someone else coming here."

"And what if I do? It'd be nice talking to Natasha for a change, not just to your boring face," she placed another glass in front of him with a wink accompanying her words, her teeth sinking into her bottom lip to prevent her from chuckling.

Bradley places a hand on his chest, pretending feeling pain inside. "You're deeply hurting me right now, (y/n) Benjamin."

"It's not like your ego can't handle a little bit of honesty, Bradley Bradshaw."

He hasn't even noticed how close their faces have gotten during the past few sentences until she finally starts laughing and he can feel the air leaving her lungs on the skin of his face. His heart skips a beat as an involuntary, gentle smile spreads across his lips. The next moment the girl leans back and pushes herself away from the counter, moving to another spot where someone else has been patiently waiting to get a drink.

Rooster stays in the exact same position, body leaning in to support himself against the side of the counter and hands lightly pressing into it, only his eyes moving around, following her every movement. She's so gorgeous it hurts.

He would've probably stayed in that position for a lot longer if it wasn't for the bell ringing out. The sudden noise brings him out of his daydream and he blinks before making eye contact with Penny, her eyes suggestive and a playful grin on her lips. A wave of cheering sounds across the bar and the man next to him pats him on the shoulder whilst saying thanks.

It's in that very moment he realises it's him who has to buy everyone a round. It's him who broke one of Penny's rules. Rooster swiftly glances down at the counter to see if he has his phone out but it's not there. He looks back up at the bar owner with confusion written on his face, only to catch her finger pointing in the sign's direction, at a specific part of the rules. His eyes land on the words written there and a moment later he feels the blood rushing to his cheeks, probably painting his whole face bright red in the embarrassment he feels.

He got caught staring at the girl like that. And by none other but her mother.

Bradley groans, fishing out his wallet from his pocket, not daring to glance back towards his friends - he can hear them shouting and whooping towards him perfectly without looking and having to face their grinning expressions too. As he pulls out his card and hands it to Penny, his eyes land on (y/n) standing not far behind her mom, her face just as burning red as his feels.

Great. He even embarrassed her, not just himself. He made her feel awkward.

Penny hands him back the card a couple seconds later with a joyous glare and a chuckle, and he turns around just in time to see Phoenix arrive, lending a helping hand in carrying their drinks. "What the hell have you done?" She whisper-screams with a giggle escaping her lips.

"Nothing. I don't know," he shakes his head, trying to get away from the scene of his crime as fast as possible, mentally promising himself never to go around the counter again if he gets even the slightest bit of tipsy.

- - - - -

"Go, I can finish this," Penny gently bumps her shoulder against her daughter's. "I think someone's waiting for you outside."

(y/n) glances at the window besides the front door, seeing the dark silhouette that seems somewhat familiar before turning her eyes towards her mom again. "I think someone's waiting for you," she giggles, suggestively nodding her head towards one of the tables in the corner of the otherwise empty bar, more specifically the man sitting next to it.

"Oh, stop it," the older woman laughs.

"Only if you will stop it too."

"What? I'm just playfully teasing."

"Me too," (y/n) shakes her head still grinning.

Moving out from behind the counter she grabs her bag and sets off towards the door. "Now go and have some fun. But not too much," she adds just as she grabs the handle, quickly stepping out into the warm air of the night with laughter bubbling from her lips, escaping from the loud, nonsense shout her mom sends after her alongside the towel she's been using to clean the counter up until she threw it away.

(y/n)'s still quietly chuckling away as her eyes land on the figure leaning heavily against the wall. "Rooster?"

The young man raises his head from its hanging position and lets his eyes wander up from her feet to her face. "Hi," he breathes out eventually.

"What are you still doing here? I thought you and your friends left more than an hour ago."

"They did."

She frowns, wondering why he might be still waiting here then, and can't help but feel her heartrate fasten, thinking about the possibility that he's been really waiting for her. As her eyes rake over his appearance, taking in the slighty dazed look he's giving her, the way his fingers noiselessly drum some kind of rhythm on his thighs, she concludes that he's probably still quite tipsy - if not drunk - from all the drinks he's consumed that night, no matter how long he's been sitting outside in the fresh, salty air.

"Oh, come on, you big baby, let's get you home," she leans down, grabbing one of his hands and gently tugging it upwards. For a moment he doesn't react, instead still keeps on looking at her, but after a second tug from her he starts moving, pressing his free hand down against the ground and pushing himself up. Standing upright he sways before her fingers wrap around his shoulder, gripping onto his flesh to keep him steady.

"I don't wanna go home yet," he announces.

"But you definitely should."

"No, I wanna take a walk on the beach first. With you. That's why I've been waiting here." Rooster's words come out more clear and confident than before, now definitely making her heart skip a beat.

(y/n) lets out a breath - she's not been planning to spend the rest of her evening with pampering a drunken man. But she has to admit that he looks utterly cute still holding onto her hand tightly, half leaning against the wall behind him, with a couple loose strands of his light brown hair falling in front of his forehead. And he's always been fun to be around. It's not like she can't push the planned curling up on her couch and watching some Netflix show to another day.

"Okay, let's go then," she smiles up at him, nodding towards the oceanside. His eyes light up and he pushes himself off the wall. The girl doesn't even try to pull her hand away - it just feels too good to be held by him to let that go so easily - but he still tightens his grip on her, as if being afraid that she'd tear the connection if he wasn't precautious.

They walk in silence for a while, only the sound of the waves crashing into the shore giving a constant background noise. A soft breeze moves around them, ruffling her hair and slightly pushing his unbuttoned Hawaiian shirt off his shoulder. It feels nice and comfortable to just stroll quietly by his side, she thinks. After spending hours in the non-stop, loud noise of the bar, her ears feel blessed to have been allowed to rest a bit.

"I'm sorry," Bradley breaks the silence eventually, making the girl frown and glance at him in confusion. She opens her mouth to ask him what for when he continues. "I'm sorry for embarrassing you earlier."

It still takes a moment for her mind to catch up to what he means, having almost completely forgotten about the bell being rung and Rooster standing there at the counter with flaming red cheeks. A tender giggle escapes her lips as the memory resurfaces.

"You don't have anything to apologise for, you didn't embarrass me," she delicately pats his shoulder with her free hand. "If I remember correctly, it was you who became the red-faced centre of attention."

Rooster lets out a low groan, his fingers flying to the back of his neck to scratch away at the skin there, clearly still feeling awkward about the situation. "Still, I'm sorry."

"You really don't have to, Bradshaw. It was probably just my mom revenging my constant teasing of her and Maverick," (y/n) shrugs, shaking her head at her mother's childishness. "She just wanted to tease you a bit in order to tease me."

It's like the man can't even hear her - he mindlessly rubs the skin of his cheek, eyes staring strictly at the sand beneath his feet as they move along the shore. "I didn't want to be rude or too straightforward. I shouldn't have looked at you like that."

"I'm sure you didn't even look at me like that in the first place." Even the thought alone is ridiculous. Why would he, Rooster, the man himself would look at her like that? God, why had her mother decided to put that sign up? "And you ordering for drinks is far from being too straightforward. You don't know the things I hear all the time. That's what my mom meant with that stupid rule, not what you did."

Rooster stays silent for a couple seconds, seemingly deep in thought before deciding to speak up again. "But that's the thing. I did."

(y/n) feels her brows furrow as she glances at him once more. "You did what?"

"I looked at you like that," he confesses, eyes rising up to watch what can be seen of the rolling waves in the dim light that comes from the Hard Deck.

"Oh." That's all the girl can manage as her mind slowly processes his words. But why would he? He was probably more drunk tonight than she thought he was, if he even for a second looked at her in a way that made her mom ring the bell.

"I feel bad because you're not an object to just stare at or whatever," he keeps on rambling, as if it's something he needs to get off his chest.

"Rooster, you're scaring me," (y/n) giggles. "Where's the cocky pilot I got to know and who's this utter mess next to me?"

"He left a couple hours ago," he mumbles so quietly she almost doesn't hear it, before speaking up louder again. "I truly feel bad."

"Okay, that's enough. If I hear you say that one more time, I'm gonna be the one who feels bad."

Her feet mindlessly kick away at a pile of sand in her way, and she watches as the dry grains of sand go flying in the air, get caught up by the breeze and being blown towards the ocean. "Look, I really don't care about it. Nothing happened so please calm down and stop worrying."

"I can't. I have to make you understand how sorry I am."

God, he's actually still drunk.

"I would never want to disrespect you. Not anyone but especially not you. I swear I will never do it again." His words slur as he keeps on lowly explaining himself, the word sorry appearing every other second and she actually has to bite into the inside of her cheek to keep herself from giggling out loud.

She watches with amusement as he's talking unstoppably, wondering if he even knows what's going on, trying to put a stop to it, interrupting him on several occasions, but it's like his mind is somewhere very far away - too far for her words to truly reach his mind.

With a shake of her head (y/n) abruptly stops, and pulling her hand away from his she turns to face him. Before he can even realise how the circumstances have changed, she's already grabbing both sides of his face with a fond but still somewhat firm movement. She can just see the moment a slight confusion appears in the glint of his eyes as she swiftly leans in and presses her lips to his in a way to finally shut him up.

For a short second it feels like not even this can stop him as his lips keep moving, muffled words sounding from them, but then he suddenly goes completely quiet, and then just one more second later he responds to her kiss.

The romantic books and movies she's read and seen all describe this feeling with mentions of fireworks and butterflies, but somehow it feels completely different than that as he practically melts into her hands. Her senses sharpen like they never did before, and she's sure she's going to combust right here and now.

She can feel crystal clear the exact moment his warm palm touches the small of her back, the heat radiating from his skin going right through the material of her T-shirt and onto her skin, sending a tingle up her spine. The breath leaving through his nose tickles her face and she can feel more than she can hear the soft sigh that leaves his lips as he leans into the kiss even more. Her hands slowly slide lower to rest against his chest just as his fingers tangle themselves into her hair. The light taste of beer transfers from his lips to hers and she revels in the tiny remnants of the alcohol seeping into her system.

When all oxygen leaves her lungs and she can feel them burn in a desperate plead, (y/n) takes a step back, allowing their lips to disconnect. Rooster chases after her lips for a moment, leaning closer still, until her finger presses onto his pursed and swollen lips, stopping his movement. His eyes flutter open and he just stays motionless, staring dazedly into her eyes.

It soon becomes too much to bear, and so she turns her head away, fingers gently wrapping around his wrists to guide them away from her body. Trying to put the buzzing of her mind and all her senses aside she slips a hand into his and turns the two of them around so they can start their walk back to her car.

"Come on, let's get you home to sleep this off, Bradley," she says quietly, a soft smile playing on her lips when she feels his fingers tighten around hers hearing his first name coming from her mouth.

- - - - -

The next day, when (y/n) can hear the sound of the bar's front door being opened and then closed, footsteps approaching the counter as she's placing the clean glasses back to their places, she speaks without looking up. "We don't open for another ten minutes, sorry."

"Don't worry, I'm not here to get a drink," a very familiar raspy, deep voice replies, making her spin around to stare at the man now arriving to the counter.

"Hey," she greets Rooster with a soft smile. Her glance travels all around him - at least the parts of him she can see above the wooden furniture - taking in the pink blush colouring his cheeks, the small and even shy smile playing on his lips.

Does he remember last night at all?

"Uhm, so I wanted to ask you a question, actually," Bradley speaks up, chuckling away after a momentary pause.

"(y/n), dear, can you help me-" Penny's voice rings out as she enters through the kitchen door, but stops abruptly when her eyes land on the pilot leaning against the counter, a knowing smirk slowly taking over her expression. "Oh, I'm sorry, didn't know anyone was in here already. I'll leave you to it," and with that, she moves back from where she's just come from.

(y/n) and Bradley look at each other and burst out laughing at the same time, the sound of their laughter combined helping to ease the previously formed tension. When they finally calm down and everything goes quiet again, (y/n) tilts her head to the side. "So what is it you wanted to ask me?"

"Oh, yeah. Uhm," the man mumbles and she raises an eyebrow, thinking back to the previous night and how similarly he's behaving right now - totally unlike him. "Is there any particular reason you kissed me last night besides wanting to shut me up?"

So he does remember.

Now it's her turn to become all shy and flustered, cheeks turning pink and eyes slightly widening. "Well, that was the main reason, to get you silent finally," she chuckles, but the not finished sentence sensibly hangs in the air still and she knows that he can feel it too, especially when he raises an eyebrow in a suggestive, expectant way.

"But?" Rooster breathes out, leaning just a tiny bit closer above the counter.

(y/n) gulps, closing her eyes for a moment to gather the courage to actually confess. "But I also did it because I wanted to."

"You wanted to?"

God, why wouldn't he let me be and stop my suffering?

"Yeah. For a long time, to be honest," she mumbles under her breath before raising her glance up to his face to his how he'll react.

She does it just in time to see that way too familiar cockiness sparkle up again in his eyes, that well-known, overly confident smirk spreading across his lips. "Yeah?"

The girl nods with a roll of her eyes - she can just feel the tidal wave of teasing coming her way, feeling more than surprised when it doesn't come.

"Good thing you did it then, I'm not sure I would ever have been able to make myself finally do it," Rooster continues, and as she's staring into his hazel eyes, she could swear she sees something else spark in there. Something that's tender and breathtaking and lovely and almost like adoration.

"You wanted to?" (y/n) can't help but repeat his previous question back to him.

"I still want to," he replies and it's like her heart is actually bursting out of her chest, beating so fast and loud she's sure even her mother can hear it. "If you'll let me," Bradley finishes, his voice taming down into a gentle mumble.

He leans even closer to her above the counter slowly, painfully slowly, and she can almost feel herself just give in and lean in as well, when her mind's still working part comes up with a rational thought and she swiftly pushes herself further from the counter.

She can see the confusion spreading across his face and she can almost hear the thoughts running wild in his head as he's probably wondering what he's done wrong, but before he can ask her, she's already on her way to move out into the open space of the bar. Her feet almost make her stumble in her slightly impatient hurry since she's not taking her eyes off his, not for even the shortest second to look at where she's going.

Dodging a few stools and her fingers finding support on the wooden surface as she drags them along the top of the counter she watches as his head is slowly turning, in sync with her own movements as if he himself wouldn't want to break the eye contact either.

By the time she comes to a halt in front of him, slipping into the space between the counter and him he generated whilst watching her move, he's seemingly caught up to what she had in mind, his lips curling back into the grin once more. "I'll let you, Bradley Bradshaw," she breathes out, noticing his eyes dart down to her lips and back up to her (y/e/c) orbs again.

Slowly, as if they had all the time in the world to themselves, he places both hands on the edge of the counter, trapping the girl there, standing right in-between his arms, mere centimetres away from his body. Then, with the same patience he lowers his head, gently letting his forehead rest against hers. He can feel the stutter of her breath against his skin as she practically shakes with anticipation, making the knowing smirk appear on his face just as he dives in to claim her lips his own.

The clatter of silverware sounding from the kitchen breaks the two of them away a minute or so later, and as (y/n) glances towards the kitchen door, wondering if her mother intentionally made the noise only to further tease them, Bradley untangles his hands from their previous positions on the side of her neck and her left cheek, both of them breathing deeply, chests touching with each inhale.

"Do I interpret the signs correctly and this means that you would say yes if I hypothetically asked you out on a date?" Rooster raises his hand once more, pushing a stray curl of her hair that has fallen in front of her face behind her ear.

"Only hypothetically speaking, yes," the girl replies, a wide grin practically cutting her face into two.

The next moment they share a chuckle, giddy from their previous actions and the weight of their confessions.

"Okay," Bradley leans in to press a soft kiss against her forehead. "Would you go on a date with me then?"

"Wasn't it only hypothetical?" (y/n) can't help but grin up at him.

"It isn't anymore."

She simply nods, letting her eyes do the talking as she stares deep into his gorgeous, sparkling hazel orbs. Rising up to stand on her toes she responds to his peck with a similarly delicate one, just on his cheek, on the spot of impossibly soft skin right under his eyes instead of his forehead.

"Good," he breathes out, eyes fluttering closed from the tenderness. "When does your shift end tonight?"

(y/n)'s just about to answer him when the kitchen door opens once more. "Okay, kiddos, I gave you a couple minutes, now I gotta open this place, so time's up," Penny walks out with a grin on her face, not even looking the tiniest bit of surprised by seeing her daughter and the pilot standing so close to each other, basically in each other's embrace.

Did she know about both our feelings? That's why she rang the bell too?, (y/n) can't help but think.

"Hey, Pen, can I somehow bribe you into letting your daughter finish her shift a bit earlier tonight?" Rooster grins at the bar owner, taking a small step back to let the girl escape from the trap his body created.

Penny rolls her eyes, shaking her head in pretended disbelief. "What are you up to, Lieutenant?"

"I want to take her out on a date, ma'am," he playfully salutes her, responding to her formality without a second thought.

The woman glances to the side, joyously noticing the utter happiness radiating from her daughter, before turning her gaze back to the young man at her side, nodding her approval. "Only this once, and just because I've been watching you pine for each other for too long already," she chuckles and moves to stand behind the counter, placing the towel that's been resting on her shoulder down to give the wooden surface one last wipe.

Rooster turns to (y/n) only to find her standing there with her cheeks flushed pink, looking oh so perfect - and he has to stop for a short second just to take the sight in and wonder if it's from the embarrassment because of her mother or from the kiss they just shared.

They discuss the details of their date under their breath in order to stop her mom being able to hear them perfectly, then he leans in and presses a short and innocent kiss to her temple before turning away and making his way out of the bar, disappearing behind the doorframe - but not before glancing back one last time to shine a wide, excited smile (y/n)'s way.

.::the end::.

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i-literally-cant-with-this · 24 days

Text

I wrote this probably over 2 months ago and haven't done shit with it since. I thought it was cute but never elaborated on it.

So it is what it is. But it's about Nanami. ANYTHING to bring this man back lol.

SFW from what I can recall. Enjoy <3

Hear ... Me ... Out.

Nanami is at his favorite coffee shop one day and he sees this girl (woman, ok? don't get into semantics over it) and she is just a hot fucking mess.

Her hair is in the world's messiest bun on top of her head. It doesn't look like it's been brushed for a few days. Her clothes are like, less than casual. He doesn't want to use the word "sloppy", but damn. She look so sloppy rn that he has this overwhelming need to go straighten her up.

She's not ugly, not beautiful ... natural, though. But there's something about her that he is drawn to. She's kinda chubby. Which adds to her unique appearance(?), but with the right fitting clothes, she would be so cute, he thinks.

There's not a speck of make up on here face. And Nanami can't help but find that somewhat refreshing. There are stains on her sweatshirt from the coffee she is drinking. Crumbs on the table from her bagel with cream cheese.

GOD he wants to give her a napkin but doesn't want to offend her. What is the etiquette here, he wonders. Could he spin it so he comes off as polite? Caring, even?

He watches her for a while longer. Studies her face as she reads up on whatever textbook she's studying from. He can't get a good look at it, but it's a thick book.

Speaking of thick, he looks down to her thighs. They're thick, too.

His tired mind begins to wander uncontrollably to what she would feel like, what she would taste like. Then Nanamin catches himself staring too long. Spit pools in his mouth and he swallows hard. He looks away, hopefully before you catch him eating you up & out with his eyes.

But it's too late. You felt someone's gaze on you. And not just someone's. Fucking Kento Nanami's breathtaking brown eyes.

So now you're taking him in. And he is the most put together person you have ever seen. His blue button-up shirt is so well pressed that there isn't a single crease in it, even as he sits there in the cafe, it hugs his large arms looking like it was about to give at even the slightest miscalculated move. His tie hangs perfectly around his muscly neck. The light colored pants he wears - Oh God. They look like they're painted on. And they leave very little to the imagination.

He's got a tiny cup in front of him, his regular drink, espresso. But you don't know that's his regular drink. Because you have never seen him before. You don't even come to this cafe regularly. The one you like, the one closest to where you live, is having some renovations done. It has ruined more than one morning for you this week. Seeing the tall, ridiculously handsome man sitting across the seating area is starting to fix some of today's damages, though.

You tilt your head to the left and size him up, just like he was doing to you. But you're not even trying to be discreet. You decided that morning that you had nothing to lose by doing the societally deemed shameful things.

ie: oogling an attractive man, while you're looking like you're coming down from a 23 hour gambling bender with Toji (Nanamin doesn't know you know Toji and vice versa). Not that he'd permit you to keep associating yourself with him if anything were to become of the two of you.

No, he'd put a stop to that years ago. No proper lady of his would be fraternizing with garbage like Toji Fushiguro. No, no, no.

He's already decided he wants to talk to you. And while he has absolutely no reason to be shy about speaking with you, he can't bring his legs to move. That could be in large part to the considerable amount of blood that has pooled in the center of his body. He'll give it a minute and compose himself before he walks your way.

Nanami glances back at his newspaper and continues to read the daily stock updates. He sees movement in his periphery but thinks nothing of it because, after all, this is a busy cafe. It is a Wednesday. More people than you will move around.

It is you, though. You pack up your stuff, purposely leaving behind your cellphone beside your empty coffee cup, and walk toward him, holding eye contact for the entire time you're heading toward the exit.

He gets excited for some reason he can't yet understand and his pulse gets faster and faster the closer you get to his table for 1. Without thinking, he straightens up the scattered papers on the small table surface like he was expecting company. Your company.

But you turn at the very last second and push open the door to the sidewalk. The disappointment Nanamin feels crushes him like nothing he's quite experienced before. You are no one to him. He, in turn, knows that he's no one to you as well. Yet the dejected feelings remain in the forefront of his thoughts.

His eyes squint against the bright reflection of something silver on the table you were sitting at. You'd strategically forgotten and placed your phone to pick up the sun's light emerging from behind the clouds to get his attention.

It worked. He made his way across the cafe to the shiny object left behind. Picking it up, he tapped on the screen. To his great pleasure, there was no lock on the main screen. He had access to your photos. Your contacts. Your notes. Everything. He could look at everything.

Being the gentleman he is, Nanami thought it best to not look through it, though. He thought about giving it to the barista and letting them handle returning it to you. But there's no fun in that. He would track you down and give it back himself.

On the car ride to the "Return To" address in the phone, he felt his stomach turning. There was no reason for him to be nervous about this task, considering what his career is. He dealt with much worse shit than delivering a phone to a woman to whom he was attracted but couldn't figure out why. This was child's play. There was no curbing his excitement though.

Arriving outside your apartment building, he was surprised at how nice the place was. If he had to guess by just looking at you, he'd not have guessed a place such as this.

The doorman let Nanami pass with no problems. Looking as respectable as he does often grants him permissions that other people can't even entertain the idea of.

He pushed the button to call the elevator down and waited for it to carry him to the 14th floor.

Walking down the hallway until he found your place, he smoothed his tie down and knocked 3 times. He heard your footsteps coming as you padded your way closer to your door. And then he saw your shadow moving underneath, on the opposite side that he stood.

"Hello?" He said, his voice rumbly and deep. "You left your phone at the cafe we were both just at. I - thought I'd return it to you."

Nanami watched your shadow stretch out a little more and heard your fingers tap on the door as you looked through the peephole.

@darkstarlight82 @viburnt @arlerts-angel @kazutora-kurokawa @katkusuo (tagging you on the off chance you give a shit =))

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk nanami #jujutsu kaisen nanami #jjk kento nanami #kento nanami #nanamin #nanami kento #jjk fluff #nanami fluff #nanami x reader #nanami x you #nanami x y/n #kento x reader #kento x you #kento x y/n #nanami kento x reader #kento nanami x you #nanami kento fluff #jujutsu kaisen fluff

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silcoitus · 11 months

Note

Hi! Some thoughts about Silco taking care of sick Reader and the other way around? 💓

Sorry I took so long to get to this one!

So I def went into how Silco handles being sick in the last bullet of this ask (spoiler alert: he's a big baby about it lmao) though I didn't go into specifics about the actual care so I'll expand a bit!

Sick Reader

Sneeze just once, cough just once, and Silco will be trying to quarantine you "for your own good." He's seen too many people in the Undercity without good healthcare undone by simple sicknesses and ailments to let you fall victim to it if he can help it.

He'll make you your favorite soup and hand deliver it on a tray along with hot tea with honey and a card drawn in crayon from Jinx. If you ask sweetly in that voice he's can't say "no" to, he'll even spoon feed it to you. (Only a few bites, never the entire bowl. The man has lots of work to attend to, after all.)

With nothing to do but rest in bed, you'll inevitably grow bored, so he'll scour his library of books and bring you stacks of ones you haven't read yet, each book accompanied with a small note that you use as a bookmark. Sometimes the notes are his thoughts on the book and sometimes they're just a few sentences telling you that he loves you and hopes you get better soon.

The Silco-imposed quarantine is not without slight ulterior motive: he does this to ensure you actually rest but also does so to lower the chances he'll catch whatever you have. This will last about two days where he's very good about keeping his distance while still caring for you, with the help of Jinx.

But by the third day, he'll miss physical contact with you so much that he'll make up some excuse that you're "surely no longer contagious" and will climb into bed with you to press his face into your chest. This of course leads to...

Sick Silco

As you're coming off of your sickness, Silco starts his. But, he's stubborn and a workaholic, so he'll attempt to work through it, only prolonging the time he spends sick.

He won't rest until he sneezes or coughs during a Chembaron Assembly, sending all pairs of eyes to stare daggers at him at that tiny hint of weakness. He'll of course make up some excuse ("Finn, that sorry excuse for 'cologne' is worse than the gasses from the fissures.") before adjourning the meeting hastily and retreating to bed.

When finally he does try to sleep, he does so in short spurts. One hour, he'll be snoozing, the next, you'll catch him in his bathrobe, standing hunched over his desk trying to work on "just one more thing." You'll shoo him to his room and then reach a compromise by bringing him some of the easier jobs to do from bed. After some time working, he'll inevitably pass out in the middle of it and you'll clean up the litter of papers strewn across the sheets, handing them off to Sevika to finish up.

Silco tolerates soup. He does not enjoy it. But he'll thank you nonetheless when you make him some. When you offer to spoon feed it to him, he'll dismiss you with the narrowing of his eyes, unamused.

He does, however, allow Jinx to feed him. She takes it very seriously and concentrates really hard so she doesn't spill any. Silco always thanks her after each spoonful and tells her he "can manage alone now" but she insists she do the entire bowl. He'll tousle her hair afterward and send her on her way.

When Silco's sick, administering his eye medication is a nightmare. He won't sit still long enough for you to do it, so you have to grip his chin tight to hold him steady. It's a blessing in disguise he's incapable of blinking the corrupted eye; you can only imagine how much more difficult it would be if he could squeeze his eye shut in protest.

When finally, he's no longer contagious and feeling well enough to work, he'll apologize for resisting rest. (But will still continue to do so every single time because he doesn't learn and again, he's a stubborn man.)

Thanks for this, anon! I hope you enjoyed the lil headcanons.

As always, my inbox is open for Silco or Silco/reader requests for headcanons or drabbles!

#silcoitus #headcanons #silco headcanons #silcoitus answers #sick silco #silco x you #silco x reader

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anarcoqueer1994 · 1 year

Text

TW: Slurs, homophobia, abuse, neglect

Steve’s parents are shitty, but Eddie loves Steve, and it gets sappy

You are My Sunshine

Steve likes boys. He has known he liked more than just girls since he was 8 years old. But Mr. Harrington made sure to try and beat that idea out of him, lay harsh harsh hands against him leaving bruises in their wake, degrade him with knife-like words like pansy or faggot until he learned not to bring up those feelings anymore. His mother would silently sit back, showing her agreement with apathy.

For years, Steve tried to hide it. He played the popular, skirt-chasing jerk, only daring to kiss boys in the dead of night, hook up with them when no one was looking, and accept that many of them were scared too, inevitably leaving him alone after. Honestly his luck with women, though, wasn't much better. No matter what, Steve just ended up heartbroken.

But when he met Eddie, things felt different. He didn't know why, but he was drawn to Eddie like some planet orbiting a giant bright star. And Steve wanted to stay in that orbit, wanted to move even closer, even if it destroyed him. But Eddie didn't destroy him. Eddie loved him. For the first time, Steve felt like he was truly, romantically in love, even if they haven't said that yet. He felt protected, like he belonged somewhere.

But his parents came home unexpectedly one day, to "check-in" after the "earthquake." Only it was 10 months too late. But it didn't matter, they caught Steve and Eddie making out on the couch, Steve straddling Eddie’s lap. Any pretenses that this was anyway two straight dudes hanging out were out the window.

The harsh words come out again as Steve tries to clumsily pull himself off of Eddie.

"I thought I beat that faggot shit out of you!" His dad yells stepping closer to Steve. His mom stays quiet per usual.

"Dad...I..." He stutters.

"Shut up, Steven." He steps closer as Steve flinches.

Eddie watches as the bright light that usually fills Steve's eyes is replaced by something darker...fear. Eddie isn't used to this, Steve was fearless against the monsters of the upside down, but this monster, his own father, is too much for him.

He knows he should stay out of it but can't. Before Eddie knew what he was doing, he was between Steve and his dad, blocking Steve from the man who looks eerily similar except his eyes are filled with hatred.

"Get out of here!' His dad screams at Eddie. "I don't want some trailer trash faggot in my home!" He tries to push past Eddie to his real target of his vitriol. But Eddie doesn't budge.

"I'll leave, but only with Steve." He spits back.

Behind him, Steve is seething. The moment his father turned his attacks to Eddie instead of him, he snapped. He was no longer fearful, all he wants is to defend Eddie, his Eddie.

"My son is not going with you!" Mr Harrington practically growls.

"Yes, I am!" Steve's voice shoots from behind them, as he grabs Eddie's hand, moving so he is next to his boyfriend. Eddie squeezes his hand in return.

He doesn't remember what happened next. Just screaming, and fists. When he gets to the door with Eddie, his father threatens him to never come back. His mother surprisingly convinces his father to let him grab his things first. He leaves that day with a few hastily packed bags, a black eye, and Eddie.

Steve drove off from his used to be home, not saying a word as he gripped onto Eddie’s hand, threatening to never let go. He was lost in his thoughts as Eddie tried to soothingly run his thumb in circles over Steve’s hand.

His father finally succeeded, got rid of his queer son. He knew people would find out. He knew he dragged Eddie, his star, into this. And it kills him. But it also kills him to finally have confirmation that his parents could never love him. He already knew that deep inside, given the years of neglect and abuse, but he secretly hoped that they did care afterall. But in the end, they only cared about keeping him under control, parading around his 'good' features, while trying to push down and erase the 'bad' ones.

To Steve's parents, he was just some planet that inconveniently got stuck in their orbit. He was an unwelcome visitor into their solar system. They tried to make do, throwing meteors of insults and hatred at him, to break him down, reshape him into something they could deal with.

All of sudden, it's too much for Steve, tears start falling down his face as he shakes. He has to pull over as his vision gets distorted. Eddie is immediately squeezing his hand and he leaning over.

"Sweetheart..." Eddie whispers.

Steve looks over like he is about to break, eyes red and puffy, face red, with tears down his cheeks. Immediately Eddie throws his arms around Steve pulling him close, practically pulling him onto his lap, as he whispers in Steve’s ear. Steve clings to him like his life depended on it, and in that moment it kind of did.

"Stevie..." He coos. "I got you, baby...I always got you."

"I'm so sorry, Eds..." Steve says wetly after a while, into Eddie’s shoulder, as the sobs start to dry up.

"What? Princess, no...no you have anything to apologize for." Eddie quickly says, not sure Steve is saying sorry.

Steve pulls away, scooting back into his seat,looking down, suddenly embarrassed for his "outburst." He hears his parents voices as he thinks about it, always embarrassed by any show of emotion he might have.

Eddie reaches back for Steve’s hand. Steve doesn't look up, but lets Eddie take his hand. Eddie clears his throat, "You have nothing to be sorry for." His voice is stern like he refuses to see it any other way.

Steve takes a shaky breath before daring to look up, only to find Eddie’s soft brown eyes staring back at him, except his eyes were full of worry, and Steve knows he caused that.

"No, Eddie. I do. My dad is going to out us, things are going to get out and you'll have to deal with that because of me. And now you are worried about me and my stupid daddy problems. And I don’t want to be a burden and..." Steve's anxious rambling is interrupted with a soft little kiss.

Eddie had watched as Steve was digging himself into a giant hole of guilt and it was breaking his heart, so he did the first thing he had thought of. And now as he pulls away, he doesn't go far, resting his hands on Steve’s neck, and forehead against him.

"Stevie..." Eddie whispers. "I don’t care what your dad says or does. He is an asshole, and doesn't deserve you in his life. He'll, I don't deserve to be in your life. Sweetie, you are amazing, and sweet, and somehow you want to spend time with a cynical freak like me..."

Steve cuts him off. "I don’t think your a cynical freak..."

"I know, sweetheart. And that's why you are so special to me. You really see 'me' and I really see 'you.' And, like, I love what I see. You're funny, and smart, and kind of dumb." He smiles teasingly. "And you are caring, and kind and bitchy, and everything all the same time. And you are so fucking hot. I love you, Steve Harrington. "

Steve suddenly feels like his heart is going to beat out of chest and fly around the car. "You love me?" He says in half disbelief.

"Yea, you are my sunshine, Stevie. You brighten up my life. So, yea I love you." He smiles at Steve like he is the only person in the whole world.

Steve can’t help but smile back. Steve had been wrong. To Eddie, he wasn’t just some planet pulled into his orbit, destined to be destroyed. He was a star in his own right. He was bright and beautiful and powerful. Steve and Eddie were two stars dancing around each other, pulled to one another, always circling the other with their light and receiving light at the same time. They were bright and beautiful and powerful together too. Steve was Eddie’s star just as much as Eddie is his.

He whispers "I love you, too, Eddie." And he leans back in for another soft chaste kiss.

Eddie lets a happy sigh escape his nose. "Good..." then he gets a devious little smile. "But there is one thing I would change..."

Steve pouts, maybe a little exaggerated. " Oh? What is that?"

"Your last name, Harrington." He says definitely.

"Honestly, not too fond of it myself anymore..." He replies sadly.

Eddie senses his sadness so he saves the moment. "Then how about we change it to Munson, soon."

Steve laughs, eyes still red and face puffy from crying. "Is this how you are proposing to me?'

"I don’t know. Would your answer be yes?" Eddie grins.

"Of course." Steve smiles again, before playfully adding, "But if you think this means you don't have to take me out to a nice place and propose properly, you'd be wrong."

"Whatever you say, Princess." Eddie laughs before pulling Steve in for another soft kiss.

#stranger things ficlet #stranger things #steddie #steddie fic #Steve harrington #Eddie munson #Steve's parents are terrible #abuse #slurs #neglect #sappy

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axvwriter · 21 days

Note

💉 How do they feel about needles

✏️ Do they write

🛍 What is their fashion taste

Can I ask these 3 about Bobo, please?

(Sorry about the laziness. I'm still waking up, lol)

💉 - How fond are they about needles? (Op of the oc asks really used the word fond? Who's fond of needles?? I would think at best one can tolerate or is indifferent to them... unless I were to say Xia-lin loves needles but only in sticking them in other people /j)

Bobo's indifferent to needles. She doesn't care too much for them, but she has no issue with them if she does need a needle for any medical reason.

(Probably lucky and doesn't even feel needle injections which apparently everyone around me irl but me has such luck. I hate needles. Though a couple of years ago I found the best way for me to not feel/minimize feeling anything is to have it shot-gunned into me. Like just done really fast.)

✏️ - Do they write? If so, what kind(s)? Creative, journaling, etc.

The format of this question makes me want to think the question is asking if the oc writes for any fun manner; or even doing something like calligraphy, again for fun.

Bobo does not journal or write creatively or anything like that. The closest she gets to it is when she has to handwrite letters to the kingdom above her own. They insist that Bobo handwrite them and it sometimes takes longer than she'd like as she makes sure her handwriting is super neat and easily readable. Because if it isn't, the royals from the other kingdom will basically nag her about it.

Usually Bobo types things on a device with the occasional screen-touch written/drawn? signature. Though she also does at times write, her handwriting is readable, but a bit messy and rushed looking. With all the paperwork she reads through, Bobo has no interest in any creative form of writing. She's tired of looking at blocks of text.

🛍 - What’s their fashion taste(s)?

(I know like the name of some fashion styles, but not enough to actually name any of them for any of my characters. Unless it's business casual or lolita or gothic.)

Bobo has a preference for bright, cheerful clothes like blue and yellow. She often wears a red-orange color though as that's the Mycelind royal color. Not really a necessity for their royalty to wear, but she takes her job so seriously that she chooses to wear it anyway. If she can, she'll never wear a majority of the color white as that's the other kingdom's royal color. Her gloves do tend to be white as that's her personal preference on telling how clean her gloves are.

Bobo prefers dresses, skirts, and skorts. She often wears light-weight shorts or something similar underneath her skirt for modesty. Though really the chances of seeing under her skirt would usually only be in battle I would think and I'd think the fight itself would be too distracting to even notice. Just in case though.

Due to her kingdom's climate, Bobo does go with shorter wear, like short-sleeves and/or no sleeves. I'm actually a bit torn on how to dress her during her childhood as while I know what modesty would be like for the kingdom, I'm concerned of it coming off as inappropriate for kids. Like in-universe it's probably no big deal, but online irl I worry about gaining the attention of creeps.

So childhood Bobo's probably dressed more modest, while adult Bobo might not be? I actually haven't experimented with what adult Bobo's outfits may look like now that I think about it. Like I've decided what adult Bobo's hairstyle will be and I'm sure her outfit will be similar to her childhood ones. Anyway-

Bobo quite likes frills and cutesy looks. Her preference for skirts doesn't mean she hates pants though. She's willing to wear pants and prefers pants that has some frills or a semi-skirt to it.

Twst Bobo is a bit different as she's in a different climate that she's not used to. In Twisted Wonderland Bobo is constantly feeling cold so she's usually in full uniform to try to fight the coldness. She's also limited in clothing options so she doesn't get to show off her style much. I have her tie her tie as a bow like Riddle and Epel do as partially as that's what she prefers and partially because she's never tied a tie before.

I also gave her a grey shirt instead of white as Vil has a grey shirt which suggests to me that school uniform shirts don't have to strictly be white. If Bobo has options, she will avoid white. Only her gloves get to be white. (So of course the fairy gala outfits are basically majority white and I do plan to draw her in one of her own at some point.)

While Bobo does prefer skirts, Twst Bobo won't even look for them. She's used to mid-length/short skirts which would be too cold for her liking. She leans more for pants in Twisted Wonderland.

I do have a fan oc for twst named Lance that I've made mostly as an excuse to give Twst Bobo some more clothes. Though Bobo just takes whatever she can have, not feeling like she has much right to ask for any specifics. Especially as Lance doesn't seem to know how to take proper breaks along with him giving her stuff for free.

#ask #oc ask game #twst bobo #bobo mycelind #daedalusslabyrinth #i took a while to answer because i want to do this on desktop and i was distracted by a game #emojis #are emojis screen-reader friendly?#i do appreciate the questions!#just been distracted by majoras mask lately #along with a little project im doing #oh i could see bobo in a dress with birds on it but mycelinds version of birds are bats so it would have bats on it instead #cute little bats on a blue dress #too many things i want to draw but my brain and body wont sync properly to get them done #or well i think its a mental and physical sync issue thats going on

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yourslashersfinalgirl · 1 year

Text

Top 10 Fastest Anime Defeats | Chapter 4

Key:

Japanese: normal text

English: bolded

Thoughts: in italics

It's nice out today.

That was your first thought of the morning as you stepped outside to begin your training. Although you and your scarred friend had planned to stay inside for the day due to the rain, Urokodaki had requested you both go out and adjust to the environmental change. "You must learn to fight in different conditions whether they are natural or not. Training in the same good weather will not give you nearly enough experience for your fights with the demons."

I guess that makes sense... Besides the rain isn't that bad, I actually like the rain.

As the rain continued to pour down, you made your way toward your desired area for training. You wouldn't be joining Tanjiro for your usual routine in favor of finally trying to come up with your desired breath style.

Standing in front of the boulder you spend the next few minutes staring at it.

Yeah... I have nothing...

"Damn it, this is so stupid!" You stomp your foot against the ground straight into a puddle of muddy water, dirtying your light blue hakama.

Ah fuck, Urokodaki is gonna kill me now.

"Life is going great!" You let out an exasperated sigh, not caring as you didn't have an audience,

"You really are a mess." A familiar voice cuts through your spiteful thoughts as you spin around to face the boy. Droplets of rain dripped down his mask as he stood with his arms crossed over his chest watching your pitiful state. "Why, hello to you too Sabito." You sigh after greeting the boy.

Do I dare sit on the ground? My clothes are already dirty so I'll have to wash them anyway...

"What's wrong with you? Your face is disturbing me."

"Wh- Don't you dare talk about my face when you haven't even shown yours!" His only response to your statement was a light knock of his fist to your head.

"You never answered my question."

"Huh?"

"I asked what was wrong with you. You never answered."

Staring down at your muddied feet in embarrassment, you avoid eye contact before answering, "I'm trying to come up with my own breath style."

He scoffs, "That's your problem?" He shakes his head as you absentmindedly play with the sleeve of your hakama as your temper begins to rise. "You try to come up with your own breath style! This shit ain't easy dude!"

"Then, if it's so hard for you on your own... I'll help you."

➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶

Another six months passed until the final day Tanjiro would face Sabito. You would have continued your training if it weren't for the fact you desperately wanted to see Sabito's face.

That moment you're only letting yourself take a break cause you want to see some dude's face.

Tanjiro and Sabito stood across from one another, stern expressions never wavering as they stared one another down. Tanjiro's hair had grown out, cascading down to his shoulders. To the side of them were the figures of two girls, Makomo standing in place, and you at her side sitting patiently.

Not like I'll be here for long... This fight is pretty quick in the anime so I don't have to worry about time too much.

The sword at Sabito's side was no longer the familiar wooden one he had appeared with all those months ago, instead it was a real Nichirin blade that shined as he pulled it from its sheath.

"After a year, you finally began to have the appearance of a man," Sabito comments on your burgundy-haired friend as he stood across from him with his own sword drawn.

"I will win today."

"Go Tanjiro! I know you can do it!" Obviously, you would cheer for Tanjiro. Sure, as much as you liked Sabito, you were not going to not show your support for the boy you've known for longer.

It was a pretty straightforward thing. To put it simply, the stronger and faster of the two would win.

Not another second passed before they both lunged forward, fully prepared to inflict some damage on the other. It was a quick fight, and the victor decided in an instant. Tanjiro's blade struck Sabito before the masked male had time to react.

A look of shock swept across Tanjiro's face as you leaned forward, Sabito's own face being revealed from beneath his split-open mask.

Woah... He's so fucking pretty? Pretty boy Sabito! If Sabito looks like this how pretty is Inosuke?

Both Sabito and Makomo smiled at Tanjiro's achievement. Fog began to pool around the area as a sense of mourning, joy, and peace began to fill your body.

"You must win Tanjiro..." Makomo spoke up, although you didn't react to her voice, "Against that person too."

That person? The hand demon or Kibutsuji?

Finally returning to your senses, you look around only to realize Sabito and Makomo were nowhere to be found.

"So... Uh..." The sound of your voice seemed to surprise Tanjiro as he jolted from his thoughts. "Ah, [Y/N]!" You push yourself from the ground only to jump onto Tanjiro's back, forcing him to drop his katana in order to hold you up, "That's a nice rock you got there bud. Can I have the other half?"

"Other half?" He looks back at the boulder only to realize he had somehow managed to slice it in half. "O-oh! I didn't even realize I cut it!" You raise an eyebrow at that remark, "Bro, really? Then... Do you mind helping me cut mine in half? I wanna be there with you at the final selection!"

His grip on you falters, almost accidentally allowing you to choke him if it were for the fact you slid off on your own accord, "C'mon! Help me with my boulder too!" You race off toward the direction of your training spot only to accidentally run into your father Urokodaki himself. "Oof!" Before you could fall, he grabs your shoulders to steady you, "Ah, I'm sorry... And thanks for catching me." Urokodaki simply responds by giving you a head pat.

"The reason I didn't want either of you to go to the final selection, was because I didn't want to see children die of this anymore."

Ah, story progression...

He begins to approach Tanjiro, "But I didn't count on you being able to slice that rock..." He places his right hand on top of Tanjiro's head, "You did well."

Tears begin to well up in Tanjiro's eyes as Urokodaki continues, "Tanjiro, you are an... impressive kid..." Finally allowing his tears to fall, the two embrace each other in what you would describe as a slightly awkward, but loving hug. "You must come back... Alive from the final selection. This old man and your sister will be waiting for you right here."

Well, I didn't need my emotions anyways.

Tag List: @rgtgt

#kny x you #kny x reader #kny x y/n #platonic kny #tanjiro kamado x reader #platonic tanjiro #sabito x reader #platonic relationships #demon slayer x reader #platonic nezuko #this is for my aro ace peeps

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andyswritings · 3 months

Text

Immilla peered inside to see her new, modestly sized quarters. Once she was satisfied that this was indeed an ordinary bedroom and not some type of elaborate trap, she paced cautiously through the doorway. There was a twin sized bed pushed up against the wall, clad in crisp, white sheets. A plain wooden dresser sat in the opposite corner with a mirror on top. The simple furniture only held her attention for a matter of seconds, before it was drawn elsewhere, to a broad window that overlooked the street below. She approached the window slowly, each footstep causing the floorboards to creak, and peered outside. Pedestrians still milled about, even in the dark. An old man equipped with a long stick ambled down the street, lighting each of the tall lamps as he went, until the path was completely illuminated. “There’s nothing out there for you,” Lysander said. At some point he had stepped beside her, but she was either too tired or distracted to notice. “Why should I believe that?” The words tumbled from her mouth without much thought, but she didn’t care if he found them offensive. “You’re free to do whatever you think is best, even if you end up dead in an alley, or worse,” he said, his voice firm, “But I think you owe it to me now to stay alive a little longer, at least try to convince me that I haven't completely wasted my time." She did nothing to acknowledge him. Instead, she focused on a woman dressed in bright purple, out for an evening stroll. But Lysander continued on, and the object of her attention disappeared from view, forcing her to listen. “There are people out there far worse than Acacia and I, though I suppose you already know that. Goodnight, Immilla.” With that, he turned and left her alone in the bedroom. She listened closely for the sound of the door being locked behind him, but it did not come. Perhaps she was not a prisoner here after all.

#he is so done with her nonsense lol ... as he should be he has enough to deal with on his own #andy's writings #writeblr

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boliv-jenta · 1 year

Text

Frankie Morales x ND!reader

A little drabble about Frankie taking care of anxious ND reader at Christmas.

TW: anxiety, negative self talk, Christmas.

Frankie hovered in the kitchen, making his hands appear busy as he watched you on the couch. He knew something wasn't right, beyond the illness that had been draining you for a week. Your smile didn't quite reach your eyes anymore, save for a few times when you looked at him with all the love you had, he swears he can see it shine from your eyes, your soul, just as clear as he can see the lights shine on the Christmas tree.

He knows your sleep has been fitful, he feels you stirs, knows that it's been taking longer for you to drift off. At first he put it down to the almost forty-eight of sleep you had at the start of this flu. No, this wasn't the flu any more. This was your first Christmas together and your first anniversary the following week. Frankie wanted everything to be perfect for you. Just like you were perfect for him.

"You're staring, Frankie." You commented with a smile, without even turning your head from your book. Even though you both know you haven't been really reading it.

It only takes his long legs a few steps to cross over to you before sittingon the edge of the sofa next to you. "I know something is wrong. I didn't want to push you but you know you can tell me anything."

He doesn't miss the way you outwardly cringe behind the mask of your pages. Taking a breath you compose yourself behind it's safety before putting it down to talk to him. "You're right. I should have know I couldn't hid from you." A soft smile graces your lips as you take his hand in yours. "I'm sorry. It's just this time of year. I'm out of routine. There's so much to do, yet not enough to do. It sets off my anxiety. Then my anxiety takes over. I can't seem to keep myself present, I'm either upset over the past, over those that should be her with me or terrified over the future. Christmas is just hard being sick on top of it had just worn me down."

"Mi Amor, why didn't you say anything?" His warm eyes shone with concern, his pout was drawn down. You already wanted to kiss the look of sadness away.

"My anxiety is because I was born messed up. You have actual reasons to have anxiety." You avoid his eyes as you speak.

A moment later you find yourself crushed to his chest. "You and I both know you weren't born messed up. You wouldn't say that about anyone else in your shoes so don't say it about yourself. Besides that one of the neat things about anxiety, it will go after anyone." He pressed a kiss to your head. "So Christmas is a trigger for you?" You only nod against him. You let him hold you until the anxiety swells in your stomach and you have to use the bathroom. Frankie appears at the door when you are done. "Hey, why don't you take a bath? They warmth will help with your stomach. When you come down we can try to get a little toast or something in you. OK?" His care caused an ache inside you. Why couldn't your stupid body accept that you had it pretty good and just calm down?

"Hey." Frankie moved to catch your eyes. "Wherever you just went, don't go there again. I love you."

"Love you, too." And you did even when your felt like you didn't feel your feelings the way you should, you always loved Frankie. Even back when you were just friends before Benny's New Year's Eve party.

The bath helped you stomach a little. It didn't help your thoughts as much. Grabbing some fresh clothes from your bedroom you didn't notice some things had been moved. Walking into the living room, you definitely noticed. "Frankie...?"

The Christmas tree was gone. The few ornaments were gone. The presents under the tree were gone but there was pile of stuff in their place. A book, a video game, what looked like comfortable clothes. While you were taking it all in Frankie come in through the front door.

"Frankie? What did you do?" You tilted your head at him.

"I thought we could just have our own holiday. None of that stuff or expectations. I drew up us a new routine." He gestured to the counter behind you. On a note pad he had drawn up a timetable, including all your favourite ways to pass the time. He even drawn a cute winky face next to a section labeled 'Playtime'. "I unwrapped your present. You can look at them whenever. I was just grabbing the recipients from my glove box. You can return anything you don't want. No pressure." He handed you all his receipts, well all except the one for your engage ring. That was now hidden, along with the ring itself. Waiting for a day where you were more yourself.

"Frankie...I..." Tears pricked your eyes. You knew none of this would magically erase your anxiety. Your body would just have to process this illness before you could take all the steps necessary to handle this time of year but for the first time in days, you could see passed it. There was hope. That you weren't going to feel this way forever. That even if you got better this time you wouldn't just be treading water until the next bout. That you weren't broken. All the things you kept trying to remind yourself now felt a little bit more real, thanks to Frankie.

Tags @kirsteng42 @babydarkstar @prolix-yuy @thegreenkid @hquinzelle @fangirl-316 @gracie7209 @jedifarmerr @doommommy @scorpio-marionette @sturkillerbase @harriedandharassed @aynsleywalker @mswarriorbabe80 @quica-quica-quica @rise-my-angel @adancedivasmom @graciexmarvel @kinda-nobody

#frankie morales x you #frankie morales x nd!reader #frankie morales x neurodivergent reader #anxiety #christmas

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asterouslyaesthetic · 1 year

Text

opportunity.

inwardly, the coward laughs so that the memories of her cowardice—of all the times she purposely missed meeting him—do not make her cry. content tags: pokemon au, pining, they're in that book 1 stage where they like each other but haven't solidified their partnership, did i mention pining? notes: this turned out to be much longer than the others...wrote this while fighting off sleep so it might not be too coherent

delusional thoughts—about dates in the city, after their respective gym or contest matches, at the pokemon center, or out in the wilderness while camping—run wild across her mindscape, half-heartedly chases by the remaining bits of her sanity. not even the loud pounding of her heartbeat can drown out the sound of her voice and the decidedly not-friendly thoughts it whispers, nor can it serve as a warning, a reminder for her lips not to twitch into a creepy grin.

a lump escapes back down her throat, scratching its walls in a way that makes her think she might have a sore throat. numbers two and three—where she draws the line, aware of the seconds ticking down on the non-existent clock—soon follow, punctuated by the loud, drawn out sips she takes from her iced coffee.

accompanying them through their flight is the sight of her lips twitching into what she hopes is a comforting smile, then relaxing into what she knows is not; not with her dark brown eyes passionately pleading the world to make sure her current companion can't guess her thoughts.

"sorry, i guess that's a weird thing to ask for. traveling together," the boy she likes says, punctuating the end of his sentence with an awkward laugh and a rub on his neck.

the fingers on her free hand fiddle with the hem of her dress, dragging it over her knee so that it covers the small hole on the inner thigh of her black leggings that she's never really cared about before. kiran laughs awkwardly alongside him.

"that's—" she pauses and looks away, her gaze darting to the baby vulpix slowly, carefully approaching her boisterous electivire. it's enough to distract her from her current situation, though it comes the cost of a persistent melancholic twinge in her heart. "i'm sure my pokemon would..."

this is an opportunity, she knows this well. a chance to get to know him better and endear herself to him in the same way he managed to do so to her.

but would this have happened without sunny?

"sorry," he repeats uselessly. from the corner of her eye, she can see him balance his cup on top of his lap. "we aren't that close for me to be saying something like that."

gold-frosted bangs obscure the blue eyes she loves so much; gloved fingers curl into tight fists, resting on his knee; and chewed up lips curve into a frown, giving away whatever his hands did not.

it reminds her of that night in the eternal sanctum, the night she realized she was capable of loving someone—that it wasn't just a passing fantasy to keep herself occupied with.

kiran covers his hand with her own. fixing her gaze onto their joined hands, she chides, "i thought we agreed this wasn't your fault. no one could've known vulpix would hatch so soon."

he looks up at her, sweeping his bangs up and pinning them in place with his other hand.

"i feel bad," alfonse confesses, his voice low. "everyone was looking forward to it and now—"

the cause of their anguish, a baby vulpix she named sunny, rushes back to the only being that brings her comfort: alfonse's snorlax, who happened to be the first person she saw upon hatching. in her wake, she leaves scarlet the electivire in shock, his left arm reaching helplessly after her and his wires frozen mid-flail.

with a rueful smile, he finishes, "this happened."

a buzz sounding from her oversized hoodie's pocket distracts her for a moment. her hand slips inside and grasps her pokedex, but makes no moves to bring it out in alfonse's presence.

"something wrong?" the boy asks. "is it—"

it's nothing. don't worry about it.

"what if we called each other? all the time?" the words slip out before her brain has the chance to properly vet them. any chance to pass them off as a joke or take them back in a tasteful way gets snatched away right in front of her eyes as, rather than only her brain shutting down, her soul decides to leave her body.

truly, a coward to her core.

but alfonse is sweet to her these days, despite his initial coldness towards her, and even her bones know that there shouldn't be any real reason to turn her down. not their marrow though—there still needs to be a part of her that retains her identity as a skeptic in her day to day life.

"hmm." he adopts a thinking pose—his chin cupped between his index finger and his thumb—and closes his eyes. "we could make sure we run into each other in other cities, instead of missing each other by a hair's breadth."

inwardly, the coward laughs so that the memories of her cowardice—of all the times she purposely missed meeting him—do not make her cry.

"right, that's just what i was thinking," she comments, snapping back to the present with little difficulty. "we can have sunny spend time with my team without having to travel together."

a compromise, one that won't make her feel like she trapped him into a situation he was only suggesting out of courtesy.

dark brown eyes dart from the vulpix in question to the boy sitting next to her as their owner retracts her hand. his lips curve into a brilliant smile. one that should, by all accounts, make beautiflies spawn in the hostile lands of her stomach but instead, it feels like a swarm of dustox have decided to take over instead—as if she's said and done the wrong thing somehow.

"well, we already have each other's numbers."

gloved hands pick up the cup on their owner's lap as he stands up. shifting the empty cup into one hand, alfonse holds his hand out for her.

"so i think this could work. i'm not an early sleeper by any means, so feel free to call me even at two in the morning," he tells her.

kiran grasps his hand and, with her gaze fixed on sunny, stands up. her next words sprint through her mind for a few laps, in hopes that she can say something mildly witty without stuttering.

"what a coincidence." she smiles. "it's the same for me."

#feh alfonse #fe alfonse #alfonse x kiran #kiralfonse #fire emblem heroes #fire emblem #aya's writing #feh summoner #feh kiran

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merluvlee-sims2 · 1 year

Text

Pleasantview - Burb: Prologue #5

Jennifer got home, all giddy from her kiss with Melissa, and was surprised to find John awake and waiting for her.

"Jen, can we please talk now? We were supposed to talk earlier and you kinda bailed on me."

Jennifer sighed. She supposed that she really was the asshole in this situation. She gingerly sat down next to him.

"I'm sorry, John. I'm just figuring some stuff out—"

"—what do you mean, "figuring stuff out"? What happened to all those plans we made together? I'm not asking for much, Jen—"

Jennifer interrupted him, cold and distant: "—you're right. You're not asking for much. Just to use my body so you can satisfy some twisted primal urge of yours to breed—"

"—that's not fair! You're twisting my words! I just want to have a big, happy family, okay? And I'm not saying you need to give birth again! I'd love to adopt kids! Hell, I'd even be happy to take in Lilith and Angela since your brother and Mary-Sue won the prize for World's Shittiest Parents—"

"John. Raising kids is hard work. I just would rather focus my energy on my career right now and pour all of our resources into giving Lucy the best childhood she can possibly have—"

"—well, I think that the best childhood possible includes having siblings..." John took several deep breaths before continuing.

"Jennifer, I feel like we don't want the same things anymore. And that scares me."

Jennifer sighed.

How can I tell him that I never wanted the same thing that he did? It would break his heart. Why did I ever think I would change my mind?

"I'm sorry, John. Maybe I haven't been fair to you. I want you to have everything you want."

John smiled, "Thanks for apologizing. And I'm sorry too. C'mere."

As her husband wrapped his arm around her, Jennifer felt conflicted.

I do love him...in a way. He's my best friend. I care about him a lot. I mean, I'm married to him! Maybe we could make things work, for the sake of Lucy. It's not like he is abusive or mean. Don't I want him to be happy? Doesn't he want me to be happy? Isn't that enough?

"John. Let's try for a baby tonight."

John smiled, "Seriously?"

Jennifer nodded.

Just as she was about to get undressed, Jennifer's phone rang. She hoped it was Melissa, and immediately answered it.

But it turned out that it was Dina Caliente, calling her to tell her that she was engaged to Mortimer Goth. She hadn't heard from Dina in ages—they used to be friends in college but had since lost touch.

"Well, maybe we could catch up over lunch sometime. I'm, uh, actually kind of busy right now so I have to let you go. But congratulations!"

Alright, let's do this.

After what felt like the most boring, drawn-out sex of her life, John finally rolled off of her and fell asleep. Jennifer got out of bed and made herself a tomato sandwich while her thoughts ran wild.

That was a huge mistake.

For better or for worse, Melissa had opened her eyes to a brave new world. She could no longer pretend to be John's suburban heterosexual wife. It wasn't fair to him.

Even though her and John cared for each other deeply, they ultimately couldn't make each other happy. And so she would have to let him go.

#ts2 #sims 2 #sims 2 premades #pleasantview #jennifer burb #john burb

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umbralsound-xiv · 5 months

Text

Paint and Pleasantries.

Wounded though i was, it was... Inadvisable to go to Thanalan proper. Though i'm quite sure i could defend myself, there was no need to take unneeded risks. ...Though, there was nothing stopping me going to Ul'dah and having a look around...

Bexy Amalaryssia paces with idle footsteps along the vibrant carpet; she'd always been fond of the colour, but this sun her eyes were far from admiring the vibrant shade of red. Instead, icy hued eyes dance back and forth, offering a smile to any who would meet them, even if her attention did settle on any passer by for a little longer than it otherwise would. Then, another pulled into her view; an Elezen, turned away from her, and enough that she couldn't see his face without drawing close. In a deliberate yet relaxed manner, she comes to rest on the railing, peering out below. "This part of the city feels like it always used to be busier, don't you think?" Idle chatter, her head barely turned to meet his gaze.

Orpheus Trentieme would straighten his back upon the sound of another's voice, a moment's hesitance to realise he'd been spoken to and not some other. He moved to look at her with only a turn of his head at first. There was a deep inhale, something to settle the nerves, before he finally responded, "…Some nights, it is. Occasionally, you'll see groups of people that have meandered in… most likely for a more intimate chat… The area provides a decent amount of privacy, despite it's public nature."

Bexy Amalaryssia: "The water would muffle the quietest words, i imagine." Briefly indicating the centerpiece with a dip of her head, she offers a warm smile. "The Quicksand, you can barely hear yourself think, these suns. The Emerald Avenue isn't all that much better. Suppose you have seen anything interesting from your time observing?" Her words hung with genuine curiosity, gloved fingertips smoothing over the ridge of the rail as her ears tilted in his direction to better listen.

I doubt he'd seen what i was looking for, and i'm not dense enough to simply ask outright. He could just as easily be one of them, just without the mark. ...There's so few of them left alive that know my face. Would they recognise me, as a group? Mm. Suppose that remains to be seen. I can't be too careful.

Orpheus Trentieme notably did not smile back. However, the neutrality of his face did not appear to be malicious or bored. It simply was. "Yes, precisely. Not to mention the sound itself being rather relaxing." Running water, that was. He liked the smell of the water, as well, compared to the arid surroundings. "…There were a ball, about a turn ago. Perhaps there'll be another this coming Heavensturn." He turns to look below, trying to recall anything of note.

Bexy Amalaryssia: "I have been to one, once. Cycles ago. They seem almost as commonplace here as they do in Ishgard, now. Though, a very different set of formalities." A note is hummed from painted lips, and even though the smile wasn't mirrored from him, her own hadn't diminished an ilm. "I too find myself drawn to the sound. Most places i go… It's always the waterfalls that catch my attention. Do you have a favourite?"

Orpheus Trentieme hummed thoughtfully. "I've been to my fair share," he murmurs, "In Ishgard." He nodded in agreement, casting a glance her way. "The one here wasn't nearly as rigid, however. There weren't any dancing cards, for one… It looked pleasant, fun." He shakes his head. "I haven't seen many more than that one there… Do you have a favorite?"

...I had my suspicions from the moment he spoke. The moment i laid eyes on him, perhaps. I like to think i know my Ishgardians well enough... Consider that i married one. And i've known Mist for quite some cycles, now. And then, there's Mattisaux, and... ...Gods, come to think of it, i know a fair few.

Bexy Amalaryssia: "I've been to one or two up north. I've a friend who had to go to them plenty in her youth. Despised them, for much the same reasons you mentioned, i think." Again, her attention drifts to the pouring water in the middle of the room. "…I have a few for different reasons. But i think the Burning Wall is my favourite. Honourable mentions to Raincatcher Gully, and Greytail Falls."

No surprise for the Burning Wall, consider that the mark of my Goddess is not so far from it. Raincatcher Gully reminds me of... Being so much younger. I think it was one of the first waterfalls i found, on my travels throughout the realm in my teenage cycles. Greytail Falls i've eyed many a time during my respite in Coerthas. I wonder what it is, that makes the sound of running water so... Soothing?

Orpheus Trentieme let loose an amused huff of air through his nose. He still did not smile, but his eyes squinted just barely in delight. "Yes, I began to grow weary of them myself, growing up." His shoulders dropped an ilm, relaxing as much as he could around a friendly stranger. "They're harder to enjoy, if matchmaking is forced upon you at them." He knows of Greytail, the other two he's barely heard of in passing. "You're well travelled, I take it?" He questions, curious, "…Are you an adventurer?"

Bexy Amalaryssia: "You are Ishgardian, then?" Her tone rises in interest, looking over him in a more appraising sense than the subtly prying one she had earlier. "…I like to consider myself to be. There are still places i am yet to go… Thavnair, the New World. But i'll get there, eventually. Work keeps me busy enough, these suns. Not quite an adventurer, though suppose it's not all that dissimilar." She quietly throws her gaze around the room, before her attention returns to the man in front of her. "I'm a mercenary. Yourself?"

Not something i'd be willing to say all that loudly, here. Plenty of prying eyes and ears, and the wrong word will soon draw them to me. ...Not that i can see anyone close by. Still. Better to be careful.

Orpheus Trentieme canted his head to the side, looking over her with a new eye as well. "I am," he confirms, "More often than not my mannerisms appear to give me away." He enjoyed the way she touched on the places she'd like to visit. That sense of wonder in another being was always nice to behold. He takes a moment to observe her, noting the way she shifted her gaze. "Ah, a mercenary… Dangerous line of work," he comments, "I'm an artist, myself… There's a great deal less bloodshed, I'm afraid."

Bexy Amalaryssia hums, gloved fingertips gently tapping on the railing. "Looks can be deceiving sometimes… But, i will admit i had my suspicions. You carry yourself well." She compliments, brightening even in the face of his words, well aware of his observation of her. "Dangerous, yes. But rewarding. And by that, i mean more… Morally and emotionally rewarding. Coin is nice, but it doesn't compare to a sense of… I don't know. Doing the right thing." Slowly, her head rocks to one side, as she mulls over his occupation. "An artist, you say? Of what medium? Or multiple?" The Seeker's expression cracks into a grin. "A great deal less bloodshed, you say, but not devoid of it?"

Orpheus Trentieme turns to her fully, then. Her reasoning for being a mercenary intrigued him… After all, it would be her own moral compass when it came to 'doing the right thing,' no? Subjective at best, prone to abuse at worse. He hardly knew her well enough to argue, regardless. "Thank you," he says. It felt nice to be told he carried himself well, rather than being told he was too uptight. "Surely you've seen more interesting things as a mercenary than in people watching," he remarks. "Oil painting, memoriam portraiture… though I've expanded a touch while I'm in Ul'dah. But… outside of work I enjoy painting en plein air."

I've always been fond of paintings, though i have no talent in it myself. Kind of like looking through a window, whether you are greeted by a beautiful landscape on the other end, or a long lost face, frozen in time.

Bexy Amalaryssia: "I have seen things that beggar belief. I have seen the look of hope, from those who thought they'd lost it. Smiles warm enough to kindle even the coldest hearts. Lovely things. Harrowing things. Some sights that will live forever in my thoughts. Though i wouldn't trade it for anything… People watching does have a comfort to it, far from the battlefield. Each person is interesting in their own way, should someone look close enough." Head shifting in the other direction, it's just enough that her ribbons follow. "Have you a favourite subject to paint?"

Orpheus Trentieme lifted his brows just barely, vaguely surprised by her answer. It sounded rather… different to what he expected from his question. Almost poetic, by comparison. "Are you an independent?" He asks, "Or do you work within a group of other mercenaries such as yourself?" There's a tender pause as mis-matching greys flick to the ceiling in thought. "…Flora," he answers, "Plant-life can be delicate and full of potential, be it beauty or succor. Have you ever been to the botanists guild in Gridania?"

Though i must be careful not to say so much, i don't... Genuinely think he's one of them. There are thousands of people in Ul'dah, so it's already unlikely. Besides. He's nice. Pleasant, well mannered, well spoken. Not that the worst of us can't be, but from those i've met from the compound, none of them have exactly been exemplary citizens.

Bexy Amalaryssia: "Mm, no. I work with a collective. My job is to get everyone home. There isn't a gil-coin shiny enough to make me forget that." Bexy gives a more earnest smile at that, bowing her head. "From the cooks that fill our bellies, to the crafters that repair our gear. Each is as dear to me as the next." A somewhat enthusiastic nod is offered at the mention of botany. "No time recently, but i have visited. I think it's a remarkable thing, to paint flora. Blooms are so… Fleeting. Perhaps why they are treasured so dearly. To capture them in an image, to hold for an eternity… I think there's a beauty in that… Don't you?"

Orpheus Trentieme was rather impressed by her disposition, truly. She seemed oddly grounded, compared to some other sellswords he's met in the past. His gaze towards her softened, his demeanor as affable as he could muster. "There's nothing quite so beautiful," he agrees, "The way in which most plants will stretch out towards the sunlight, or spread their roots in search of nourishment… the way in which they sup up the rain after a storm… It's compelling really. And so they bloom brilliantly, a most treasured honor to their survival, fleeting though they may be. We can only hope to strive towards our own blossoming as people, yes?"

Bexy Amalaryssia smiles all the warmer, tail briefly waving at her heels at his words. "Exactly this. On a base level, we aren't so different. We seek out the things that will help us grow, or we risk withering, unable to bloom to our full potential. There are few things more lovely than seeing another; especially someone you hold dear, blossoming in such a way. Tell me… Do you have a favourite flower? The answer can be quite telling, i think."

There's a lot of be said for flowers, either for specific ones, or for them in their entirety. A favourite subject of mine, for certain. ...I wonder which he'll pick?

Orpheus Trentieme watched her tail briefly, before his eyes fell back onto her face. "It changes," he murmurs, though he answers with the first that comes to mind, "Currently I'm rather fond of hyacinths." He wondered what that would tell her about him. "…And yours?"

Bexy Amalaryssia: "Oh, lovely flowers, Hyacinths. They say harsher winters make for better blooms, and they never fail to come back in the spring. Resilient. It's a fitting favourite for an Ishgardian." She beams, though her eyes widen at the question. "Oh? Hm… It's probably not so much of a surprise, for a Seeker. Roses. Azeyma roses, in particular."

Orpheus Trentieme: "Brilliant red," he comments, eyelids relaxing. He could envision it in his mind's eye, every striking note and shade. As for his hyacinth, her answer appeared to amuse him. Resilient…. He paused, blinking twice. Noting her appearance. "…Does red happen to be your favorite colour as well?"

Bexy Amalaryssia: "It's grown on me over the cycles. Yes." She smiles, turning to face him a little more fully. "The colour of love. Or life. Or death. I find it brings a little warmth to me." Looking over him with some faintly hidden amusement, she considers. "…I suppose it isn't really a fair question to ask an artist his favourite colour. I wager you have several of them."

Orpheus Trentieme squinted his eyes again, a spark of delight hidden within cloudy irises. "It suits you," he compliments, "It's a bold color for most, you wear it well." He suspected she was likely just as bright, based off of her previous statements. "I can find any one shade of each hue to be taken by," he says, nodding, "But, my favourite would be purple. A deep plum, to be specific. It's subtle, quiet, but… arresting, in a sense."

I used to like purple. Suppose, i still do even if i don't really wear it anymore. Not that i've outgrown it, but... I see the colour, and remember who once was, before the aether took my eyes and made them the icy hue they are now. It's a bittersweet thing.

Bexy Amalaryssia: "Thank you." Bexy's head half-dips with the compliment, cordial and polite. "Purple is a favourite of mine, though not something i wear all so often, these suns. Though i am generally drawn to the lavender-like hues, there's some appeal in the darker shades. The colour of elegance, of nobility, purple. A darker shade would mean you had to look for it, something not so easily noticed. There's a sort of wonder in that, i think. Darker colours are more… Thought provoking. Is that why you wear them? Or is it a sort of… Homage to the fallen, with your memoriam work?"

Orpheus Trentieme perked his brows a bit, looking over his own outfit for a moment. He did favor dark fabrics, though he wasn't necessarily sure why. Bright felt wrong to wear. "Oh--- that…" He mumbles, looking a touch bashful, "I'm afraid, despite all of my knowledge with matching color I… don't quite know how to dress myself in a way that doesn't clash." That roused a half-laugh out of him, breathy and faint. "…I'm a dour sort, anyhow…" He pauses, then makes a practical comment, "…And it doesn't stain quite so easily, black."

Bexy Amalaryssia: "Mh, true, that. All of my combat gear is black, though fashion isn't exactly at the forefront of my mind in the heat of battle, even if i don't neglect it entirely." She turns almost completely now, resting on the railing with only one hand, stealing the occasional glance to the courtyard below. "You don't seem like such a dour sort, from our… Admittedly brief conversation. But i think there's at least a drop of it in every Ishgardian i've met. And i've met a fair few."

They say that the snows froze more than the land when they came for Ishgard. Part of me thinks that's true. It hit some harder than others, i think... But there's always a hint of sorrow, or melancholy in most i've met. I think Laurent is about the happiest Ishgardian i know, come to think of it. But then, he's never minded the cold.

Orpheus Trentieme knew himself best… though, it reassured him to know he hadn't given her that impression quite yet. They'd just met, after all. "I've heard of healers who tend to favor white on the battlefield--- how horrid must that be to wash blood from?" His hands clasp behind himself, eyes drifting to the courtyard himself. "…I don't doubt that. I believe we're a very inward people. Particularly those who are considered to be of higher standing, I'd assume. Ul'dah is almost refreshing in a way. Similar to Ishgard in some regards, but at least the people here appear to be more outward with their intentions."

Mm, wearing white on the battlefield is a double edged sword, i think. It's easier for me to see at a glimpse where my own healers are, even if it makes them more visible to our enemies. ...And it makes it an awful lot easier to pick off our enemies. If they can't be healed, it makes it just that much easier. Still. I usually kill them first, but i learned recently that if i must keep one of them alive for... Interrogation purposes, a healer makes for an interesting target...

Bexy Amalaryssia: "…I dread to even think. Though i suppose if they are wounded, it is easy enough to find out where." A brow is slowly lofted, though her smile doesn't budge an ilm. "…I think so too. But inward isn't always a bad thing. You know what you want, and what you stand for. Not all people are so self realised. Though the rigidity of a higher standing is no doubt stifling, it makes for a more driven self, when you are released from it." Following his gaze down, her attention jumps from one person to the next. "In Ishgard, you can talk in circles for bells, depending on the company. Here… Things are a lot more direct, true enough. But i feel that some of the intricacies of conversation, the little pieces you might pick up when you otherwise wouldn't… They can be missed."

Orpheus Trentieme: "I can agree… there is some element of delicacy in a conversation that more often than not tends to be quashed when I'm speaking to an Ul'dahn native." Another breathy half-laugh rouses from him, "…When I began regularly staying here, for longer periods of time, it often caught me off guard." How many times has he had to dance around someone else's crass behavior in favor of his own comfort? The embarrassment of it all, to be in a situation like that. "T'would be saintly," he ventures, gingerly joking, "To have a warrior clad in white come back from the heat of battle, victorious, marred red from head to toe. One could write a riveting tale of such."

Bexy Amalaryssia curls her lips at his amusement, finding her own in the sound. "I'm quite familiar with it. The company i work with are made of a good many people, from those as far as Doma, to as near as the Shroud. It's quite the clash of mannerisms, as you might imagine. Though some might butt heads, we get along well enough. It makes for interesting conversation, regardless." Humming, she runs an index over the railing. "…There surely are many a poem and ballad penned of such. I've never been one for knights in shining armor. That just means they've never had a fight worth their mettle."

Orpheus Trentieme let loose a proper laugh at that, stifling it quick with the back of his hand. "…No, I suppose not! Knights in shining armor may be more for romance in a tale, besides." He stops to mull over the thought, his expression soft. He'd have to mull that over some more, to find some meaning or blessing behind a knight's armor--- which was holier? To be unscathed or to appear as though you've weathered several battles? "You sound very fond of your group," he says, "…They must treat you well."

They do. My every need is seen to. There is always something to eat. Always someone to tend my wounds if needed... But those are the most basic things. Always someone to talk to, and listen. People i trust with even my darkest secrets... As they trust me with theirs. People i trust with my life.

Bexy Amalaryssia: "There is so little i would not do for them." Speaking of them brings such warmth to her features, she's practically glowing. "My friends… My family. They have been with me through the most wonderful cycles… And the most difficult, too. No company is perfect… But it is mine. Though it is simply a job and a place to stay for some, it is… So much more than that, for me. Perhaps why i was tasked with protecting them. Or at least… Ensuring we all make it home. Regardless of whatever contract we take, that remains paramount."

Orpheus Trentieme nodded, enjoying the way she lit up when speaking on them. "It is a large burden to carry," he ventures gingerly, "Though, I imagine to you it is no such burden." He appeared contemplative for a moment, considering something. How nice it must have felt, to have a company of people you could call home--- family. One's friends. "This conversation has been most lovely, however I fear it's time for me to be off… If I may ask you your name, Miss?"

Bexy Amalaryssia: "You would be correct in saying i think of it so. To see them happy and home, safe and well… It is a significant responsibility, perhaps. But no burden, to me." A small, understanding bob of her head is given at the mention of a departure. "Indeed it has. Bexy, a pleasure to meet you…?" She trails, a question implied for his own, in turn.

Orpheus Trentieme nodded, acknowledging her words. Honorable lass! Surely the people in her life were happy to have her. "The pleasure is mine, Bexy," he offers with a shallow, polite bow, "Orpheus de Trentième. Perhaps we'll meet again in the future, should you frequent these halls." His studio wasn't hard to find, either.

Bexy Amalaryssia: "I should like that, i think. It's nice to see a friendly face in Ul'dah, from time to time." Her tail sways from left, to right, then back again, lightly bowing her head to his gesture. "It was lovely speaking with you. Enjoy the rest of your sun, yes?"

Orpheus Trentieme squinted, looking friendly despite the lack of overt emotion to his face. "Yes… it would be nice," he agrees, before stating, "I shall, thank you. Do take care." And with that he was off, in whatever direction his studio happened to be in.

There was no harm in giving him my name, i thought. It was easy enough to learn it, and it wasn't as though i'd left a papertrail. Asides. He gave me his own, in turn. It's nice to have a friendly face in such a place. Even if the ones i'm searching for are anything but.

#Muse: [Bexy]#Chapter: [Shelter]#FFXIV #IC #Screenshot #Writing #Textlog

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