#I’m gonna keep to myself and cry in the corner or smth | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lotus-flowerz · 3 years

Note

hello hello I love your writings so far sobs I couldn't help but do an ask myself aa (it's my first ask ever help hwkajd) could I request perhaps gn reader that flinched away from the boys by reflex? (preferably with Diluc, Kaeya and Kazuha but you can add or remove someone if you want to!) like they were hanging out and reader was lost in thoughts and suddenly when they see in the corner of their eyes how the boys raise their arm for smth reader quickly raises their arms above their own head to protect it- how would they react and how would they comfort the reader? I hope it's not too much or if you're uncomfortable with it you can ignore it if you want to whaaaa

AHHH TY IM SO GLAD YOU LIKE MY WRITING! i actually do this too, some of my old friends would make fun of me for it, so i hope that my writing here is accurate >.<

i also added beidou in here, hope you don't mind, i just had to since she's my favorite character <3

TW!! FLINCHING, ANXIETY, PAST TRAUMA, MENTION OF DEATH AND INJURIES

SLIGHT INAZUMA ARCHON QUEST SPOILERS

KAEYA BACKSTORY SPOILERS

The cherry blossoms fell silently from the trees under which you and Kazuha were sitting. Those had remained unchanged since you and Kazuha were children. The beauty of the pink blossoms falling towards the green earth without a care.

It had remained the same through the vision hunt decree, through the war, through watching Tomo get killed by the shogun, through both of you getting injured during said fight. Kazuha's hand was burnt from Tomo's vision, and your body had a large scar running from your knee to the side of your neck from a stray bolt of lighting from Tomo's divine punishment. If not for Kazuha's determination to not lose another friend and Beidou and her crew caring for you, you would be dead.

These days, although you and Kazuha both carried the same trauma, he seemed to be doing leaps and bounds better than you were. Your eyes flitted to Kazuha, who was writing poetry. The only sound that could be heard was his pen gliding across the paper, filling it with his eloquent words that always seemed to flow so smoothly.

You were deep in thought, when out of the corner of your eye you spotted something coming towards your face. Instinctively, your hands flew out to shield yourself, leaving a very confused Kazuha, who was only scratching his head, looking at you with concern in his eyes.

"Dove.. did you think I was going to hurt you?"

You slowly lowered your arms, guilt washing over you.

"No! It's just- sometimes, when movements are too sudden.. I.. you know, I try to protect myself because uh.."

His eyes drifted to your scar, then looked up at your face, only to find it tilted to the ground. He put a finger under your chin, bringing your eyes up to meet his, then kissing your forehead.

One hand snaked around your waist while the other traced lightly over your scar, sending shivers down your spine. You wrapped your arms around him as well, putting a little of your weight onto him.

He kissed your lips, squeezing you tight against him.

"I'll never let anyone hurt you again. I promise."

"Kazuha, it's not-"

"I know it's not my fault. And I know I couldn't have prevented it. But I promise you, you're safe now."

He brought his hand up to cradle the back of your head as you buried your face in the crook of his neck.

"Thank you." you said, squeezing him a little tighter.

"No need to thank me. I love you, Y/n."

"I love you too, Kazuha."

You had been a part of Beidou's crew for just over a year now, after meeting her in the wharf of Liyue harbor after finally finding the courage to leave your abusive and toxic partner. You didn't have a place to stay and you were clearly distraught, so when she asked if you were okay and you immediately began to cry, she offered you to come on her ship. You trusted her, since she was the well-known captain of the Crux. After you had explained your situation, she offered you to join her crew. You agreed, and began dating her about six months after joining the Crux.

Because you had been aboard the Alcor for a year, you knew the crew was loud and prone to get drunk. You had never liked to drink, preferring to quietly sip a small glass of dandelion wine while sitting next to Beidou while she drank a few beers and talked with her crew.

It was now the one year anniversary of when you had left Liyue Harbor, and conveniently, the Alcor was anchored there for a bit for a supplies run, imports drop off, and exports pickup. While out and about with Beidou, you had seen your ex in the wharf. They were about to come and talk to you, when you had pointed them out to Beidou. Beidou had slipped her arm around your waist, glaring at your ex, who glared back and turned heel to walk away.

Now, you sipped your wine beside Beidou, deep in thought. The loud atmosphere wasn't helping your anxieties, and you couldn't get your ex's glare out of your head. You didn't even realize you were completely zoned out until Beidou raised her arm to sling it around your shoulders, after she noticed you were zoned out.

Your arms flew up to shield yourself, and you spilt wine all over the both of you. The cup clattered to the floor, but luckily no one else noticed what just happened.

Beidou's face dropped and she quickly picked up the cup, setting it back down on the table.

"Men!" she called out. "Y/n and I are turning in early tonight! Make sure you scallywags have this cleaned up by the morning!"

The crew cheered their goodnights, raising their beers to their captain and her first mate. Beidou smiled, slipped an arm around your waist, and led you back to your guys' shared quarters.

"Alright doll, what happened just now?"

She closed the door behind her and sat on the bed next to you, looking at you with a certain softness that made you melt.

"I'm.. I'm sorry, I was just thinking of my ex, and how we saw them earlier, and I couldn't get their glare out of my head.. and I left them exactly a year ago.. I don't know why I flinched away from yo-"

Beidou cut you off by taking both of your hands into hers.

"Y/n, don't say sorry! You know, your ex wouldn't stand a chance against even my weakest crew member. They will never hurt you again."

"I don't doubt that for a second," you said, a small smile growing on your face, "Thank you for taking me in, Beidou."

"No, the pleasure is all mine. I couldn't ask for a better first mate. You're safe now, okay?" she smiled, squeezing your hands.

You looked into her eyes for a moment before throwing your arms around her. She squeezed you back, kissing your head.

"C'mon, let's shower and get this wine off of us." she giggled.

You laughed. "Yeah, let's."

Kaeya had told you his backstory, but you never mentioned yours. You just weren't ready to talk about it. Your parents had never been great, you always walked on eggshells around everyone, and everyone was all too rough with you, emotionally and physically.

You had met Kaeya in the tavern one night, while trying to drink away what you were feeling. Kaeya had noticed how obliterated you were and let Diluc know he was taking you to stay at the Knights Headquarters, and would keep an eye on you. The rest was history, and now you and Kaeya had been dating for a little over a year.

Kaeya had told you his backstory on Monday. That same day later on, you had a run in with your parents at Blanche's, where they had yelled at you for deciding to become a Knight, and proceeded to pick you apart from your very core.

In turn, you had been drinking a little more than usual for the entire week. You seemed more withdrawn and just not fully there. And it all came to a head when you were laying in bed next to Kaeya.

He went to put his arm over you, a loving gesture, but your arms came up on instinct to shield yourself. He sighed loudly.

"You're scared of me."

"Oh Archons- I didn't mean to- no, I swear it isn't-"

"You've been acting all angry and cold ever since I told you about my roots. I thought you would be the one who didn't leave me after I told them."

"No, Kaeya- please, just let me explain!"

"I'm listening."

You began to hesitantly tell him about your parents. His face grew angrier and angrier every time you told him another thing your parents had done to you.

"I'll kill them. I had no idea that that happened though. I'm sorry for assuming."

"It's alright, Kaeya. I didn't even consider that you might think I was acting weird because of where your confession."

"I swear they'll never get near you again, alright? You're safe now. It's alright."

He pulled you into him, wrapping you up in his strong arms and putting his legs over yours, making you feel protected and safe.

"No one will hurt you, not on my watch. I love you, Y/n."

"I love you too, Kaeya. I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner."

"No need for apologies, you were gonna tell me when you were ready. Now let's get some sleep, that dandelion wine I downed earlier is starting to get to me."

You giggled, burying your head further into his chest.

"Alright. Goodnight, Kaeya."

"Night, prince/ess."

You and Diluc had been dating for a few months now, you had met when he had needed to hire a new bartender, and you volunteered your mixing skills to the Angel's Share. You had caught his eye immediately, and he had asked you out on a date soon after you began your work there.

Your ex wasn't a kind person, to say the least, so you had been hesitant to say yes. You assured Diluc that this was just because your ex was unkind to you, but you had never mentioned physical harm. You hadn't wanted to worry him.

You were sitting on the couch with Diluc, his arm slung over your shoulders while you stared into the crackling flames of the fire burning before you. Diluc wasn't paying attention, as he was reading a book in his free hand.

He raised his arm up, attempting to adjust to a more comfortable position, but you misread this. Your arms were shielding your face in an instant, and Diluc was looking at you with a shocked and concerned face that quickly morphed to anger.

"I'm going to kill him." he growled/

You lowered your arms and looked down, avoiding looking him in the eye.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to do that."

"Did he hit you??"

"I, um, didn't want to worry you."

"Barbatos.. and this domestic abuser is just, what, roaming around Mondstat? No punishment for the pain he put you through?"

"I didn't tell anyone because I didn't want him to come and hurt me. I also didn't want to cause any trouble."

Diluc rubbed a hand over his face, before wrapping you in a hug.

"You're safe here, alright? I will never lay a hand on you to hurt you. I won't let anyone else hurt you either, okay?"

"Thank you.." your eyes welled up with tears, "I thought you would be upset that I didn't tell you."

"No, never. It's a hard thing to talk about. If you'd like, I have connections. We can have him arrested."

"I don't want to cause trouble.."

"You won't. He won't be able to hurt anyone else this way. But we can discuss this later. Would you care for a cup of tea?"

"That'd be nice. Thanks, Diluc."

"You're welcome, angel. Tell me if anyone hurts you again, alright? I'll protect you."

"Will do. I love you."

"I love you too."

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hermannsthumb · 3 years

Note

I know you don't usually write PRU stuff, but if you ever feel inclined, here's a ficlet idea! so: Newt is trying to fight off the Precursors by constantly reminding himself that He Is Human. but whenever newt thinks about what makes him Feel Human, the answer is always hermann. so newt starts conjuring up vivid mental images of hermann (doing mundane, hermann-y things) to ward off the Precursors. bonus point if, like, newt fondly remembering smth innocuous (like the scent of Hermann's chalk dust?) is enough to actually sever the alien mind control.

Anonymous asked: Maria!!! Would you ever write an angsty post uprising prompt? Or even a pre uprising? Anything with Newt fucking around with Kaiju and being sad i am HERE FOR 👏

in honor of the sequel’s 3 year anniversary, let’s try something a little different 👀 THIS ONE GOT AWAY FROM ME RE: LENGTH....I'll leave it up to interpretation whether or not the bonus is wholly fulfilled.... also on proofing this I realized it might need content warnings? so vague refs to disordered eating and alcohol drinking (ie, newt’s body is inhabited by aliens who forget how human stuff works)

-----------

Honestly, Newt’s life has been kind of a shitshow lately. He’s too, like, high strung. Too many responsibilities. Not enough hours in the day to get that shit done. He’s even higher strung than he was during the war, which is nuts, because certain doom was lurking around every corner. Maybe that’s why it’s not that nuts, though. The war was chaotic—and Newt’s fueled (or, used to be fueled?) by chaos. The kaiju were unpredictable. The kaiju didn’t run on a 9-5 schedule. The kaiju didn’t expect Newt to have three new jaeger prototypes on their desk by noon on a fucking Saturday, which is usually the day Newt spends two hours in his expensive bath tub and drinks a nice bottle of wine, and definitely not a day he wants to spend giving himself a stress migraine and shouting at underlings to make themselves useful. On top of that, his usual cafe got his coffee order wrong—when Newt had to run in to get it, himself, on a Saturday morning—and it only had half the espresso shots he really needs for the day. No wonder he’s going grey at forty. Fucking nightmare. Stable employment is exactly the kind of chaos that’s bad for Newt—give him the kaiju any day, thanks.

“Dr. Geiszler?”

Newt pushes his sunglasses up, and scowls at whichever one of his employees has dared to interrupt his catnap. The fluorescent overheads are brutal on his poor eyes right now. The lab needs more natural lighting. Maybe if he complains, they’ll knock out some walls in put in a few more windows. “Did you find any Aspirin?” he says.

Wordlessly, Newt’s assistant passes him a bottle. Newt pops the cap off and takes at least four. The coffee he washes it down with is cold. “How are the last simulations coming along?” he says, flicking his sunglasses back down. He seems to have so many migraines these days. It’s the contact lenses, he thinks—making the switch over from frames so late in the game. Screwing with his perceptions. Newt went thirty years with frames, after all. “We only have two hours before—”

“We’re almost done,” his assistant cuts in. “We’re working as fast as we can, Dr. Geiszler.”

“But are we gonna make the deadline?” Newt says.

She fidgets, and moves her clipboard to her other arm. “Well—we’ve had some—issues.”

Newt stands up with a long sigh. Double overtime, probably. Sunday lost to this shit too. That new bottle of wine waiting for him on his kitchen counter bought for nothing. “Gotta do everything myself, huh? Unbelievable.”

He follows his assistant over to the main lab down the hall, where his team of j-techs are hurrying around. Hardly anyone in proper lab attire—no labcoats—someone in sweatpants—Newt wasn’t the only one who had his Saturday ruined, probably. No one else is going grey, though. “What’s this shit?” he says, stopping in his tracks with one foot through the doorway. The high-tech holo-smartboards have been pushed aside, and instead, someone’s wheeled in a huge…chalkboard.

“Technical issues,” his assistant says. “The other floors are having the same problem—something in the new interface update that downloaded last night, we think. They’re all out of commission. Technology is working on it, but for now, we had to pull that out of deep storage.”

Two of his scientists are scrawling across the board quickly—one with white chalk, the other with pink. They’re debating something in hushed tones. Newt hasn’t seen a chalkboard in years. It doesn’t fit with Shao Industry’s whole chic, sleek, futuristic aesthetic. So—bulky. And messy. “Of course it would happen today of all days,” Newt sighs. The sight of it makes him feel odd, and he can’t seem to drag himself any further into the lab and any closer towards it.

His assistant says something. Newt doesn’t hear—he’s listening, instead, to the squeaking of chalk across the blackboard. So noisy and obnoxious. It reminds him of years and years ago, of working in a grimy little basement, of…

“—look it over. Dr. Geiszler?”

“Hm?” Newt says. It was like a layer of fog had begun to lift from his thoughts, but the interruption sends it rolling right back in.

“I said we’re ready for you to look it over. Only if you want too, of course,” she adds, nervously.

“Uh-huh,” Newt says.

Newt’s never had anyone fear him before, not like his employees seem to fear him—he’s not sure he likes it. His scientists shut up the second he looms over (well—under, Newt’s never loomed over anyone in his life) their shoulders to inspect their work so far. The squeaking stops. One of them lowers their piece of chalk. “Wait,” Newt says, too-loudly, surprising them and himself. They both look at him with the same nervousness as his assistant, like he’s about to start shouting or something. “Keep doing that.”

“Keep…?”

“Writing,” Newt says. “On the chalkboard.”

The scientist frowns at him. “Um, okay,” she says. “What am I supposed to write?”

“Anything,” Newt says. “Seriously. Anything.”

She hesitates.

“Anything,” Newt repeats.

She picks up the white chalk, and writes out her name, then doodles a few random pictures—a DNA helix, a flower, a cat face, a star. Newt shuts his eyes, and breathes in deeply. That smell. He snags the forgotten piece of pink chalk from the ledge. “Can I have this?” he says. He doesn’t wait for them to respond—though they both nod yes frantically, and bewilderedly—before writing out his own name on the board. Dr. Geiszler. It looks wrong, so he writes Newt beneath it. He shuts his eyes, and writes Newt again. Why does he feel like he’s done this sort of thing before? This thing is ancient—before his time at Shao—he wouldn’t have used it before they carted off to the basement. Newt, Newt, Newt Was Here,he writes, Newt +, and then he stops.

He opens his eyes. “Who’s Hermann?” his assistant says.

Newt + Hermann. Newt didn’t realize he wrote it. “Someone I knew,” he says, faintly. “Years ago. He was my—” He swallows. He feels strange. “My colleague?”

Strange. Dizzy. The Aspirin isn’t working. Definitely the contact lenses. He could afford laser eye surgery now, if he wanted, maybe he should look into it. He grips the ledge of the chalkboard, swaying, and grits his teeth; his two scientists back away from him slowly, no doubt worried he’s about to hurl all over their shoes. He might, to be honest. Newt + Hermann. Hermann was his colleague. Hermann was his— “Are you feeling okay, Dr. Geiszler?” his assistant asks. “You look…”

“Tell Shao I’m taking the rest of the day off,” Newt says.

“What?”

“You guys got this shit handled without me,” Newt says. He pockets the chalk. “I’m not—I’m not feeling myself. I think I need to go home and lie down. Seriously, you’ve got it under control—all these numbers look, uh, good, I trust you. If you guys don’t get it finished you can just tell Shao it’s my fault, okay?”

She gapes at him. “Uh,” she says. “Okay?”

Newt doesn’t go home. He goes to the nearest shop he can find instead, and makes a beeline for the art supplies aisle. Only a few boxes of chalk in stock. Four multicolored, two all-white, one yellow. He drops them all into his basket but the yellow, which he rips opens and immediately smells. Newt + Hermann. Hermann always smelled like chalk dust—he always had a fine layer of it on his clothing, patches of it on his blazer, his sweatervest, even on his undershirt. Newt used to tease him for that. He closes his eyes, and breathes in again. Funny—all those baths, all those bottles of wine, and this stupid little box of chalk is what’s finally making him feel calm for once. Quieting down his brain. He didn’t realize how loud it’d gotten in there. When Hermann would kiss Newt, he would sometimes stain Newt’s clothing with chalk, too, and Newt would pretend to be annoyed, but he never really was.

Someone is speaking to him. An employee. They’re staring at him, a cautious distance away, and Newt’s not sure what they’re saying.

His vision’s gone blurry—he didn’t realize he’d started crying, either. He wipes his eyes on the cuff of his blazer and sniffles. “Sorry,” he says. The box of yellow chalk is wet. “Um. Do you have any more of these in the back?”

He takes the bus home for the first time in years, one hand stuffed in his little brown shopping bag the whole time, wrapped around a box of chalk. When he gets back to his apartment (his big, lonely, apartment), he pulls out the only food in his fridge—some leftovers from a Shao Industries event three nights ago—and settles down on his big, lonely couch. He can’t stop thinking about Hermann. Five or so years, maybe more, not thinking about Hermann, and now suddenly—it’s like the floodgates have opened. He thinks about Hermann’s haircut. (Bad.) He thinks about Hermann’s smile. (Silly, and sweet.) He thinks about Hermann’s dumb accent, and the clack of Hermann’s cane on the floor, and Hermann’s chalk squeaking over his chalkboard, and how it felt when Hermann would wrap him in his arms and kiss him and whisper things to him. Hermann’s sweaters always smelled like mothballs and stale cigarette smoke. Terrible combination.

Newt’s stomach growls. He’s finished the small bit of leftovers without realizing, and is apparently still hungry. He would kill for some sushi takeout right now. Or pizza, God. Yeah, it’d be screwing with his new diet and fitness plan—he casts a guilty glance over at his brand new exercise bike, which is gathering dust in the corner by his TV—but he’s tired of doing stupid kale and juice cleanses or whatever, just to please—well. He’s only human.

He is?

He walks up the stairs to his bathroom, and stares at himself in the mirror. Stupid vest. Stupid tie. Neat hair, clean-shaven cheeks, contact lenses. Newt’s only human. “I’m human,” he tells his reflection. Is he human? He felt human standing by that old chalkboard back in the lab, and holding that box of yellow chalk in the aisle of that little shop. He felt human when he was remembering things. Because of—Newt blinks at himself. Because of whom?

“Hermann,” he says, and smiles at the way the name makes him feel. He should text him, maybe.

-------------

“I must say,” Hermann says, “I was quite surprised when I received your dinner invitation. You’ve done a rather fine job of ignoring my calls as of late. I’d thought— Ah, thank you,” he adds, as Newt holds the door open for him. He steps into Newt’s apartment and cranes his neck around, squinting curiously, and then shoves a bottle of red wine at Newt’s chest. Hermann is much more personable than Newt remembers—what little Newt remembers—and he wonders if it’s age or something else. “I’ve been holding onto this one for a while. It’s the one you gave me as a part of a gift for my thirty-seventh birthday—you remember? Oh, but isn’t it so terrifically, er, modern in here.”

“Is it?” Newt says. He’s never given much thought to his apartment before, but he stares around at it now in mild interest. It is very chic, isn’t it? Monochrome. Impersonal. Not something Newt would’ve picked for himself. “Yeah, I had some interior decorators come in and do it for me.”

Hermann arches an eyebrow. “How…”

“Modern,” Newt offers. He puts the bottle of wine on his marble kitchen island. “Thanks for this, by the way, but I’ve actually been trying to cut back on the—” He bites back drinking. No need to alarm Hermann. “—Calories, so if it’s cool with you I’d rather not open it. I’m doing a, um, a new fitness program.”

“Ah,” Hermann says. “I suppose that explains that, then, doesn’t it?” He points at the dusty exercise bike. Newt watches his gaze move from that, to the barren leather couch, to the short staircase which leads to Newt’s shut bedroom door. Newt can practically see the gears working in his head. “Will—ah, what was their name, that little flight of fancy of yours—a dalliance, one might say—will they be, ah, joining the two of us?” He looks at Newt out of the corner of his eye. “Alice, was it?”

“Who?” Newt says, blankly.

Hermann breaks out in a broad grin, which he quickly tries, very badly, to turn into a sympathetic frown. He pats Newt’s arm. “There’s the spirit, then, Newton! All in the past, I presume? Hardly any use in dwelling on a broken heart. Then again—it’s not as if you were together long enough to warrant those sorts of dramatics, were you?” he says, cheerily. “What I mean is—certainly it wasn’t as if you had any sort of deep or emotional connection with—?—oh, I’ve forgotten the name again.”

“Uh,” Newt says. He’s not really sure who Hermann’s talking about, but just based on that fact alone, he would assume Hermann is right. “I guess not?”

“Precisely as I expected,” Hermann says, with a satisfied nod. “Rotten grounds for a relati—for a fling. You deserve far better, Newton.” Hermann touches Newt’s arm again, and this time, he doesn’t move his hand. It makes Newt’s skin prickle pleasantly. “You look well these days, though I admit it’s a bit of a shock to see you without your glasses,” Hermann continues, flicking his eyes up and down Newt twice. He lingers on Newt’s left hand, over the bare spot where—until this morning, when he suddenly realized how stupid it looked and yanked it off—he was wearing that Elvis ring. “Ending things must be treating you kindly. I don’t suppose I could dash to your loo?”

“Loo?” Newt says. “Oh, right. Yeah, it’s that door there, right off the living room.” He drops down onto the leather couch. “Knock yourself out. I’ll be right here.”

Hermann disappears into Newt’s bathroom, and comes back out three minutes later with combed hair, a straightened collar, and the vague smell of cologne. He’s tucking a small bottle into his top pocket. “I found a box of hair dye in your medicine cabinet,” he declares, smugly. “I knew there was no bloody way that was natural. Though I’m not surprised it fooled Alice.” He rests his cane against the glass coffee table and sits down next to Newt. Right next to Newt. The whole sofa to pick from, and he’d rather their thighs touch. Newt doesn’t mind—actually, the contact is strangely grounding, like Hermann’s hand on his arm had been earlier. He’s here, in his living room, with Hermann, his friend Hermann, his colleague Hermann, his—well, question mark—Hermann.

“Hermann, can I ask you something?” he says. “Something important?”

“By all means,” Hermann says, leaning in and fluttering his eyelashes. Even over the cologne, Newt can still make out that mothball-chalk-smoke smell.

“Do you take your coffee with sugar?” he says.

Hermann laughs. “Do I—what?”

Newt repeats the question. The smile slips off Hermann’s face, and he draws away, furrowing his eyebrows. “Well,” he says, “yes, usually, only I’m not sure what—”

“Sugar, and some milk,” Newt says. “It was the same with your tea. And you had a mug that you would use—you wouldn’t use any other. It was blue, and it said—” He exhales through his nose. “It said TU Berlin. That’s where you got your PhD.”

After Newt sent Hermann a text about dinner last night, he sat down with a pen and pad of paper and made a list of everything he could remember about Hermann. He started with what Hermann looks like, and who Hermann is, and then moved into the harder stuff like what Hermann likes and the sort of things Hermann used to do. He stayed up all night doing it, until his hand cramped and his head hurt even more than it had that morning, and then recited it over and over to himself in a whisper as he fell asleep. Hermann has brown eyes. Hermann likes blackberry jam on his toast. Hermann wears little glasses on a chain. Hermann uses a cane with a tiny little nick in the brass of the handle. The list is in his pocket now; it makes Newt feel calm, and even calmer when he reaches into his pocket and touches it. He exhales again, hard, and then inhales. “We were together,” he says. “When we closed the Breach, you told me you loved me.”

“I did,” Hermann says, quietly.

“I said it back,” Newt says.

Hermann nods.

Slowly, Newt reaches out and puts his hand over Hermann’s. Hermann makes a strange noise in the back of his throat—like a sigh, or maybe a groan. His pulse twitches erratically under Newt’s fingertips. “I bought chalk,” Newt says.

“You—” Hermann echoes, his voice choked. “You bought chalk?”

“It reminded me of you,” Newt says.

He’s not surprised when Hermann kisses him, but he is surprised at his knee-jerk reaction: to pull away, or push Hermann away, and to order him to get out of his apartment. He’s surprised, because those aren’t his thoughts. He doesn’t want Hermann to leave—he wants Hermann to stay longer, and kiss him more, and help him remember more. “Oh, Newton,” Hermann says. “Newton, Newton—” He moves his mouth to Newt’s neck, kissing, breathing, and whispering his name, and Newt shuts his eyes and forces himself to remember his list.

“Tell me things about you,” Newt begs. “I want to remember you.”

Hermann’s laughter, hesitant and confused, comes out in a puff of hot air against his skin. “Remember me?” he says. “I’m not sure— Are we not a bit—?”

“Hermann,” Newt says.

He grips the back of Hermann’s sweater, digging his nails in Hermann’s skin through the layers of fabric. Hermann must hear the urgency in his voice, because he shakes his head with another laugh, kisses Newt’s jaw, and says, “Well, alright. What am I even meant to tell you?”

“Your favorite color,” Newt says. Hermann kisses his chin. “Your favorite song. No, wait—” He nudges Hermann away from him, just enough so that Hermann can see him smile. “Tell me what you like about me.”

“Feeling rather egotistical tonight, aren’t we?” Hermann teases. He reaches out and brushes his fingers through the side of Newt’s hair. One of the spots Newt dyed—it was too grey. He catches Hermann’s hand by the wrist and pulls it away gently, but only to press himself up against Hermann’s chest instead. He can feel Hermann’s heartbeat. “I like—hm,” Hermann says. “I like your stubbornness. I like your passion. I like…”

His voice vibrates in his throat—Newt can feel that, too. He listens.

#newmann #maria's fanfiction tag #if Alice was a real person her picture would be on Hermann's dartboard #it probably is anyway #Anonymous

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milkacchan · 4 years

Text

Request for anon: Gib the angst with grandpa enji and grandma rei. Grandbb gets hurt b a d due to smth and 😬😬😬

(Ojiisan is granddad in Japanese, the fir al version of it anyway. Jiji is informal, baba is the informal version of grandma)

Hero work was risky. Enji knew this. He knew better than anyone you can be fine one minute and dying the next but he still never fathomed it happening to /you/. He didn't /want/ to.

And then he gets a panicked call, from Shouto, and it sounds like he's crying, like he can't breathe. And in seconds, his retirement is thrown out of the window. His old costume is on and Reis concerned- he doesn't even have time to explain it all to her, just that you /need/ help.

When he arrives, the scene is at a stand still. Heros unsure of the next move, unsure of how to progress without hurting the situation and Shouto- although his exterior remained calm, endeavor could see it in his eyes. He was panicking. The facade cracked a little upon seeing his father, his expression turned sorrowful, sour and concerned, all at once; for just a split second before he returned to collected.

"She's in there, in the rubble. She got hit before he went down. He's in there with her but he's hurt. They both are."

"Negotiator?"

"Tried, he won't budge."

Enji nodded, mentally racking over plans and strategies- that green haired kid would be useful right now. But he was away, in America, probably watching it all go down on tv. So for now, Enji was alone in strategizing.

"I want the building stabilized and watched. Men on ever corner, exit and window of this place. The girl is first priority. If there is a choice between her and him, let him go. Do I make myself clear?"

There was a chorus of 'Yes sirs', both from special forces and heros that would be initiated in the plan.

He gaze flickered from the building back to those in front of him and he continued his explanation. This needed to be executed carefully- very carefully.

Casualties were at a low but he sure as hell wasn't going to add to that number, especially with you.

His plan was explained and he received confirmation, then it was put into action. His son on his right and ground zero on his left, the plan was initiated.

They used distractions and the stormed the building- probably not the smartest, but it's all they had right now.

Enji didnt care about anything else but you. He didn't care about the chaos ensuing around him. He didn't care about the others he saw. He did however, care about that blood trail. It could be you. Or it could be him.

He looked over to Shouto who nodded. "I'll take this one, you take the other."

"Got it," Shouto agreed with a small nod before taking off in the other direction.

Enji followed it, eyes scanning his surrounds with frevor- analyzing everything in his path. The blood trail dotted; it got light until it stopped, just outside a closed door. He wasted no time opening it. He scrunched his nose. It smelled foul.

Then he saw you. Crumpled in the corner in a pool of blood and his heart stops. It feels like the world is crashing around him because Fuck- you looked dead.

"Shouto!" He calls, his head turning towards the door but his gaze remains on you.

He's quick to get to you, kneeling down and putting his finger under your nose

You're breathing. Oh thank fuck, you're breathing.

He gently moves your arm, which is cradled over your stomach. It looks broken- its bruised and swollen and he doesnt like the blossoming purple patches along it. But your suit is ripped too, theres a large gash on your stomach and he cringes at the blood. He gently moves the sticky fabric off the wound. It was deep and tissuey- he could vaguely see the bruises beginning to form on your ribs- he didn't like that either. You were hurt, bad. Really bad.

He slides an arm under your back and the other under you leg to pick you up, almost crying in relief when you /move/. It's just a squirm but it's something, at least

He's /praying/ that you make it through, immediately thinking of the worst scenarios. They're playing over in his head.

A groan pulls him from his thoughts and he looks down, watery eyes peer into his. They're lidded and tired and scared; he let's out a breath he didnt know he was holding.

"Oj-Jiji-" You groan out, gripping his arm. Your head his on his shoulder, hair knotted and dirty, face covered in layers of dust and dirt. But the tear streaks are obvious.

"Firefly," He whispers, "it's okay,"

"It hurts," You whimper. "It hurts so much-"

"I know, I know. We're getting you out of here-"

"Did you find her- oh god," Shouto paled upon seeing you. He stumbled into the room, placing a cool hand on her cheek. You leaned into the touch.

"Dad," you kept her hand on Enjis arm, your grip tightening.

"Princess you're gonna be okay, alright? It's not- It's not that bad. We're gonna get you out and to a hospital,"

"If you're gonna lie," you mumble, "make it convincing. I know it's bad."

"You're gonna be fine baby, I promise you, you're gonna be okay."

He gently hands you to Shouto. "Go, I'll take care of things here. I'll meet you at the hospital. Go quickly."

"Jiji-"

"I'll be there soon, Firefly," he kissed your forehead.

"Jiji I love you," It was small, panicked and scared. But you wanted him to know, you wanted him to know in case you didn't make it. You'd lost blood. A lot of it. He could see it in the way you spoke. The adrenaline started to wear down by the time Shouto had entered the room.

You were crashing again and he hated it but there was nothing else he could /do/.

"I love you too, Firefly."

You let out a quiet cry, gripping your fathers shirt, looking behind him at your granddad as he carried you out. It hurt to breathe, it hurt to keep your eyes open. Black dotted your vision and you could vaguely hear someone calling your name as the world faded.

Rei sat quietly in the waiting room chair, her leg bounced and she chewed the inside of her cheek. Her hand held her son's tightly as her husband paced in front of them.

He should've gotten their sooner, he should've known it was happening. He should've been there to help her.

"Enji," Reis voice ripped him from his thoughts. The nasty thoughts running through his head a mile a minute.

They'd taken you in for emergency surgery. The bruises- those were from him. But the gash was deep. Deeper than Enji had originally thought. And with the blood lost, it wasn't looking too good.

"Are you alright?" His deep voice rumbled, the concern evident.

"Baby, come here." She whispered, holding her hand out. "You've been pacing for hours. Sit down. Relax."

He hesitated. Could he really? Could he really just sit? Shouto had zoned out. For what felt like forever his just stared at the ground, before he fell asleep with his head on his mothers shoulder. Natsuo and Fuyumi were somewhere- he wasn't sure where at the moment.

He supposed he could calm himself down enough, try to breathe through it. So he did. He walked over and sat down, sighing when her hand slipped into his.

"She'll be okay," Rei whispered. "She's strong. She's resilient. And there's a great team working on her. It's-It's going to be okay."

"I don't know," he mumbled. "She looked bad when we finally got to her. She was so pale," he squeezed her hand. "And there was so much blood. I should've gotten there sooner."

"No, you can't blame this on yourself. This isn't anyones fault. You did your job and you brought her home."

"But did I bring her home right? Did I bring her home alive?"

"Yes."

And Rei was right. He did bring you home alive. The surgery was a success. You stabilized, you regained the color in your face, normal breathing and heart rate.

They stitched you up, fixed a few broken ribs- sewed up that cut on your chin. They used a quirk for your arm, that seemed to be the easiest but for the others it was too risky.

So the Todoroki family sat in the small hospital room, around your bed, just waiting. They held small conversations, took turns sleeping; though Todoroki needed it the most. He kept putting it off.

"Aw- don't tell me you've all been waiting here. You all are getting soft," a voice mumbled.

Enji looked up and smiled. "You're awake."

"Princess," Shouto leaned foward and kissed your forehead. "How're you feeling?"

"I mean- all things aside, fine. It's a party in here though, you having fun?"

"I'm going to hit you." Natsuo narrowed his eyes.

"Can't hit a cripple," you hum. "Nice try though, Uncle."

"You almost died, yet here you are, cracking jokes."

"Yes. That's how I handle uncomfortable situations. You know this. I blame Auntie."

"I blame your father." Fuyumi rolled her eyes.

Shouto looked up, saying something back. Enji had turned them out.

"You feel okay?" He asked, eyes trained on you.

"I mean, it hurts a little but I'm okay." You smiked softly. "Thank you for finding me. I'm sorry you had to though."

"Don't apologize. You did nothing wrong. I'm just glad your okay," he swiped his thumb across your cheek gently.

It was okay after all.

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ghostnebula · 4 years

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I think we need werewolf richie fucking and knotting eddie but rough this time. The way Eddie likes it, maybe even just a little bit more.

anonymous: ok no but i gotta know. this werewolf richie thing is making my brain go fucking HAYWIRE PLSSS okok so does being a werewolf make richie's size kink worse?? like does he see how small eddie is and go fuCK Y E S i gotta protect that i gotta fuck that?? like out of wolf instincts or smth,, tell me what wolf instincts affect kinks i gotta know rn

I’m gonna answer these both at once because uuuuhhhhh oh my fuckin god? YES, being a werewolf makes Richie’s size kink worse. FUCK YES it does.

I’m imagining Richie just like… becoming hyperaware of how tiny Eddie is while they’re hanging out. It’s just the two of them, curled up on the couch in the Losers’ living room (they’re all in college together because I make the rules), watching terrible movies so they can make fun of the plots and the acting. Eddie’s leaning against Richie, legs stretched out across one end of the couch with his head kind of resting against his upper arm, and he’s got one of Richie’s hands pulled onto his lap so he can play with his fingers while he mocks someone’s fake British accent. Richie isn’t really paying too much attention to where Eddie’s pressed against him at first, because this is a pretty common practice for them. But he has this fleeting thought, while Eddie’s fiddling with his hand, that Eddie’s hands and fingers are just… so itty bitty.

And then it comes back and it sticks. Like… Eddie is itty bitty. That consumes his whole mind in the span of a few seconds. He knows Eddie is smaller than him, obviously – he’s not stupid. But in this moment it just feels more obvious than usual, maybe because of how they’re positioned, or maybe because of how dainty Eddie’s fingers feel on his wrist. Richie’s always been kind of turned on by their size difference, and when it’s at the forefront of his mind like this he becomes helpless against it.

This pretty little thing is his. This pretty, tiny thing asks him all the time to fuck him until he’s crying, and while Richie doesn’t want to treat him like he’s delicate (because he really isn’t), he doesn’t ever want to truly hurt him, and he never really trusts himself not to do that. He doesn’t trust himself not to lose control. Eddie will ask him to fuck him harder, bite him deeper, push him around more. And Richie can’t always give it to him, because he’s too busy trying to keep a handle on himself.

He twists his hand around in Eddie’s grip to capture both his wrists between his fingers, and marvels at the fact that he can even do that. “Hey!” Eddie says, playfully indignant, only pretending to fight the hold.

“Hey,” Richie shoots back, bending down to press a kiss near where his neck meets his shoulder. “I wanna fuck you.”

“Of course you do, you horny–” Eddie starts to say, but it tapers off into a high moan when Richie’s teeth sink into the skin he just kissed, deep enough to hurt the way he likes it to. Deep enough to break skin. Eddie pushes back into it.

He swallows the blood that floods his mouth and then licks at the wound a few times. “I wanna knot you.”

“Please,” Eddie squeaks, a shudder rolling up his spine, and Richie uses the grip he has on his wrists to drag him off the couch and upstairs to their room. He’s pulling their clothes off before he’s even closed the door, pushing a hand against Eddie’s back to shove him face-first onto the bed and demanding that he stay while Richie strips off his pants and lifts his hips until Eddie can get his knees planted firmly on the bed. He bites him again, low on his back, just above his ass, and Eddie gasps out a “Ohholyfuck!”

But he doesn’t stop there. He holds Eddie by his hips, which look so small under his hands, and bites all over his ass and thighs, drawing blood, and sucking hickeys everywhere that isn’t actively bleeding, only stopping every once in a while to admire the way Eddie – who knows better than to try to touch himself by now – has the sheets in a white-knuckled grip, or to spread his cheeks apart and lick over his hole. His nails dig into the soft skin on Eddie’s hips and thighs and make him bleed more where he isn’t already bruising deeply.

When he’s satisfied with his work, and he thinks no one who sees that will ever dare touch what is so clearly his, he folds his body over Eddie’s, dwarfing him under his bulk, and presses a kiss to his flushed cheek. Eddie mumbles something incoherent and turns his head to kiss him properly while Richie fumbles around on the nightstand trying to find the lube.

He starts fingering Eddie open while he’s still looming over him, and takes advantage of the position to do the same thing he did to his legs and his ass to the rest of his body, licking and sucking all over his throat, his shoulders, his back – wherever he can reach. Biting him with inhumanly sharp teeth, growling possessively while he licks up the blood that wells in the fucking holes he puts in his skin. Even the size of the bite marks he leaves look massive against the small expanse of Eddie’s back and curling around the side of his throat. “I love you,” he says before licking Eddie’s cheek and smearing a mixture of blood and saliva there. He draws back to pour more lube on his fingers and work it into Eddie, trying to stretch him out enough to take his knot, and Eddie jumps and hisses out, “Fuck!” when Richie presses too hard on his prostate, the muscles in his legs tensing while he turns his face against the sheets to muffle the sounds he’s making.

Richie barely thinks to wipe his hand clean on the corner of their blanket before grabbing both of Eddie’s wrists again and squeezing them together in one hand, hard enough to bruise, as he lines up his aching cock and sinks into Eddie – probably too fast, but he doesn’t get any complaints, so he doesn’t slow down. He doesn’t take it slow or easy at all, too preoccupied with claiming his sweet little plaything and making sure the world knows who he belongs to. He plants his free hand between Eddie’s shoulder blades and leans his weight on that arm, pinning his top half to the bed while he fucks into him, legs spread to encase Eddie between them. And that’s it, that’s what really gets him, is the sight of Eddie so tiny under just his hand, pinned down so easily, his petite wrists trapped between Richie’s fingers.

Richie’s fucking into him at a brutal pace, something he wouldn’t typically allow for himself, if only because he’s always stuck maintaining that precarious balance between giving Eddie everything he wants and preventing himself from becoming lost in his instincts. He’s usually got better self-control than this, but it’s really close to a full moon and Eddie is so fucking small and Richie loves him so fucking much and he’s also horny as hell, which is important here, and he needs to take care of his baby boy so no one else ever gets their hands on him, okay? Eddie’s making these soft little hiccupping noises under him, like the air’s being knocked out of him every time Richie thrusts too hard into the tight heat of his little body.

Richie presses his hand down harder on his back and leans forward to sink his teeth into the scar he made on the back of Eddie’s neck as he feels his knot start to catch. He doesn’t slow down, but he does thrust more shallowly as it swells up inside of Eddie until he can’t move anymore, not without making Eddie whimper from the discomfort of it, and then he’s coming and he can feel Eddie’s breathing hitch in the way his ribs seize under his hand. He’s still got his canines latched onto his mating bite, and the hand he’s pinning Eddie down with has the beginnings of claws tearing open his poor, bruised skin, and he realizes he’s on the verge of transformation, but for once that doesn’t scare him. Not when he knows he can step back from the brink – not when he knows he didn’t lose control, and he didn’t hurt Eddie. Not any more than he wanted, at least. He takes the hand he’s halfway to crushing Eddie with off of him and reaches between his legs to jerk him off. Almost immediately Eddie’s mouth is falling open, eyes squeezing shut, as he comes, his walls clenching around Richie’s knot.

It takes a few seconds for the mantra of mine mine mine mine minemineminemine to die down in his head, and a few seconds longer to realize he’s still growling against Eddie’s neck, hot blood coating his tongue. “Good baby,” is the first thing he says when he blinks away the haze and pries his jaw open to release Eddie, loosening his grip on his wrists – not letting them go, because he has to take a moment to rub some of the soreness out of them first. “You’re so good for me.” Eddie’s shaking under him still, but he looks completely blissed out, and when Richie leans down to kiss him, Eddie turns his head to meet him. He rubs his hands up and down Eddie’s sides a few times before moving them up to his shoulders so he can massage the stiffness out of them. “I’m gonna take care of you forever,” he promises, placing a gentle kiss just behind Eddie’s ear.

“I can take care of myself,” Eddie replies automatically, and it’s true – if anyone needs to be taken care of in this relationship, it’s probably Richie. But that isn’t what he meant. Instinctively, anyway, he’s got this urge to protect Eddie all the time, just as much as he’s got an urge to fuck and knot him all the damn time. Eddie’s more than capable even without Richie around to protect him, but that’s not gonna change his natural instincts.

“I know,” he says, smiling even though Eddie can’t see it. “I know you can, Eds. I just love you a lot.”

Eddie beckons him down for another kiss and offers a quiet, “I love you, too,” against his lips.

#fuji09 #anonymous #reddie #werewolf richie #inappropriate #minors dni #ask #writing #long post

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fanfic-scribbles · 5 years

Text

Lunch Buddy: Chapter Nine

Masterlist

<<Previous Chapter Next Chapter>>

Overall Story Facts:

Fandom: MCU Captain America/Avengers

Story Summary: Steve Rogers makes a friend. A prickly, generally people-averse friend, but they’ll both take what they can get.

Quick Facts: Friendship (/Eventual Romance) – Steve Rogers & Reader (leading to Steve Rogers/Reader) – Female Reader

Story Warnings: Reader-insert that verges on OFC, written in 1st person past tense

Chapter 9: Drunk Buddy

Chapter Summary: Emotions suck. But it’s nice to have someone willing to stick around despite them.

Chapter Word Count: 3370

A/N: Warning for intentional typos, drunkenness, POV being slightly down/self-deprecating in parts. I wish I had more to say but uh, new Fire Emblem game is really good and all my braincells are going towards romancing and teaching and stabbing. Please enjoy!

I was drunk. Just the right amount– I felt pretty pleasant, light and comfortable, but I wasn’t out of it. Or so I thought, until I stumbled outside and suddenly I couldn’t, for the life of me, remember how I had decided I was going to get home.

Oops.

My phone buzzed and I displayed excellent dexterity by catching it just as it slipped out of my hand. So I wasn’t that drunk and I would remember…eventually. After a brief dip into whatever nonsense Steve was sending me in the middle of the night.

Steve: Help Steve: I need a good excuse to leave a party

I bit down on my lip to keep from laughing.

Me: Does anything need saaving? Steve: It’s Tony’s party Me: Hmmmm

I tried to think, but it was hard.

Me: Sorry Steve: It’s okay Steve: What are you up to? Me: Just leaving club Me: Stopping to try to rememember Me: How I was going to get home tonight Me: I think subw Me: ay? Me: But Me: Wait Me: Wht time is it?

I squinted at the clock. Okay, slightly-more-than-midnight.

Me: Okay guess i’m not Me: doing that Steve: You were going to take the subway Steve: At this time of night Steve: While drunk?

I stuck out my tongue.

Me: Stop it Me: I can feel the look you’re making Me: Also I dint know it was so late Me: Also also: I’m not as drunk as I look in texting. A little yes but i’m more lazy than out of it Steve: Regardless Steve: Do you need a ride home?

I smirked.

Me: I guess if I can’t think of an excuse I can be one Steve: Exactly!

That was nice. I hadn’t seen him in a few days. I missed him.

Me: Ooooooooo Me: Are you hungry? Me: There’s a dumb trendy pizza place Me: That’ll probably close within a couple months Me: But it’s actually really tasty Me: Wanna meet? Me: There? Steve: I’d rather make sure you stay safe Me: It’s like a block away Me: Or smth

I made an executive decision and sent him the name of the place and the one street name I could remember.

Me: I’ll save us a table, pls don’t come in a suit Steve: It’s a little dressy for a pizza date Me: And I look cute for once Me: You will not Me: outdress me Steve: Noted Steve: Should I wear my workout gear?

I failed to see how that would make me look decent by comparison.

Me: Stop texting and get ready Me: Or unready Me: Whatever Steve: I can multitask

Wait a minute.

Me: Are you on your way????

He did not respond. I started walking. However for me, at the moment, multitasking was a touch more difficult.

Me: You are such a dick Me: I’ll see you there Steve: Wait! Steve: I’m almost there!

When my fingers failed to hit the right buttons thanks to righteous indignation and adrenaline, I stopped again.

Me: I didn’t say I was on the same street

“It’s not hard to narrow it down.”

I jumped and my phone flew into the air. I tried to reach for it but a hand came from over and behind me and caught it before it could be dashed against the unforgiving concrete. I held my chest while my heart recovered and I turned to give Steve the dirtiest look I could muster.

“Sorry,” he said. Smiling.

“You have never been sorry for anything in your life ever,” I said and put my phone in my purse. “How did you get here so fast?”

“Well, I was close,” he said. His hair looked good and he smelled nice, but he otherwise wore his standard jacket and jeans. “Also, your texting is…really slowed down.”

“Hm.” I really didn’t think I was that drunk so much as he was just that desperate to get out of an uncomfortable social situation, but I could sympathize with that to extremes so I didn’t push it. “Come on; I need food.”

“To soak up the alcohol?”

I dragged him by his jacket sleeve. Except, when we were just about there I realized I was less ‘dragging’ and more ‘leaning on’ him. I felt the creeping tendrils of ‘shit, this is a bad idea,’ but it felt like it was too late. It was too late and I didn’t want to tell him to fuck off because I suddenly couldn’t deal. If I was sober enough to realize the ways this night could go poorly, then I was sober enough to deal with it. I hoped.

“Are you going to be sick?” Steve asked and put his hand on my back. It should have been a nice, centering, kind thing, but at the moment it just felt heavy.

“Nope; just thinking about what I’m going to order,” I said and slipped away from him to get the door. He was quicker, though, and pulled it open for me from over my head just as I went for the handle. That made it slip out of my hand and I fell forward a bit, but I caught myself rather well, in my own opinion. I shot him a dirty look and he shrugged with a sheepish smile. Since he was apologetic, at least, I went forward to stand in line.

The place was fairly busy for what time it was, but I wasn’t the only drunk person there. Nor was I the drunkest, which was nice, though they were annoyingly loud, which sucked. I focused on the menu, and scanned it for things Steve might like. “Do you trust me?” I asked and looked at him.

He was frowning at the board and his “Mostly?” was the most unconvincing thing I’d ever heard.

The look on his face made me smile. “Let me guess: you’ve never had pizza outside of pepperoni or plain cheese?”

“And supreme,” was his defense. But I could understand; some of the pizza toppings here were just plain weird, to the point where even I hadn’t yet tried them.

“Okay, hear me out,” I said. “The pizzas aren’t personal but they also aren’t that big, so I’m going to order four that I know I like and that I think you’ll like, and then we’ll get one ‘Boring’ for you to snack on just in case. Sound good?”

He nodded but looked at me with some exasperation. “You got something against just cheese and pepperoni?”

I didn’t even try to hide my glee at I pointed to the area on the menu where it listed, in a wholly appropriate font, ‘Boring.’ It was just a typical cheese pizza but Steve’s look of annoyance was worth everything. Suddenly, inviting him out was a great idea– the best I’d ever had.

“Do you secretly own this place?” he asked as we waited for the gaggle in front of us to grab their cups and go.

“If I owned a pizza place I’d be bankrupt and easily mistaken for a parade float,” I said and stepped forward to order. I got my wallet open as I spoke but when I finished telling the cashier what I wanted, Steve still managed to hold his card out before me.

“Hey; you paid last time,” I said.

“And I can pay thi–”

He jolted when I smacked his hand and his card flew to the floor. I gave the bewildered woman my card before he could recover. “I give the better tip,” I said as she swiped it.

“That’s a lie,” he said as he came back up.

I shrugged and pointed at the tip jar. “Put up or shut up.”

He looked right at me while he opened up his wallet and counted out one twenty, and another, and…

My eyes widened at the end amount he dumped in the jar and when I stole a look at the girl behind the register she was straight up gawking. “You’re such a fucking show-off,” I said and signed the receipt (after adding my suddenly-so-much-less-impressive tip).

“I am so okay with that,” she blurted out.

I laughed as he ducked his head and stole away with the number and his cup. “Sorry; I concede defeat,” I told her.

“Yeah, no problem,” she said like she didn’t even hear me and she stared at the tip jar even as I went to get my drink. Then I joined Steve in the corner, where he fidgeted while we waited. When we got the pizzas and I dished out some slices, he didn’t look upon them any more kindly than he had the descriptions.

“Here,” I said and pushed one of the plates over to him. Then I stacked the boxes so the plain one was at the bottom. “Try these first. If you don’t like them then you can have the cheese all to yourself.”

He sighed and looked at each piece. “It seems like such a possible waste. What if I can’t do more than one bite?”

I rolled my eyes. “Then I’ll cut off where your icky diseased lips touched and eat it myself. Fuck, man, weren't you in the army?”

He ducked his head but he was smiling. “Sorry; you’re right, this isn’t any worse than–”

“Eat or die,” I said and threw a packet of parmesan at his face.

Thankfully he knew better than to test the strength of even a lightly-drunk woman’s stomach and he ate. And if the noise of surprise he made didn’t show how he felt about the food, the way he plowed through the rest of it clearly did. I managed to snake a few more pieces and I was still getting through them when he neared the end of his.

And yet in between inhales he still found the time to be really annoying.

“So, tonight…did you go with a date?”

There were a lot of things I could have said to that, but all of them were terrible, and none of them made me feel better, so I shook my head. “Just by myself; to get out.” He was staring at me, and I wanted him to stop. “I’ve been a little…down, I guess.”

“Hm,” he said, not stopping his steady look. “Is that why you’ve looked like you’re about to cry all week?”

I shrugged and took a bite. It was still good, but my throat had closed up, so I had to chew for a while. Steve stared at me until I swallowed. “What?” I said.

“I can be patient,” he said, smiling slightly, like this was a light thing.

I tried to act like it was. I rolled my eyes. “Keep holding your breath and I’m gonna eat your pizza.”

He relented then, thank goodness, and chowed down on the last of the food in front of him. When he sat back then, it was a lot more natural. “I can’t believe I let you pay for all that and I ate most of it,” he said.

I snorted and kept picking at my last piece. As much as I wanted to finish, my stomach wanted me to curl up in bed and forget it existed for a while. “If you admit I was right I’ll consider it paid in full.”

“You were right; that was delicious,” he said. He looked me over. “How are you feeling?”

“Okay. Sleepy,” I said and stopped playing with my food. “Do you want this? I only took a little bit.”

“Well, I guess so. Since I was in the army and all.” He took the slice and smiled mischievously at me.

“You think you can handle my poison lips?” I asked.

“For good pizza, it’s a risk I’m willing to take,” he said, so fucking deadly serious that I fell apart into helpless laughter. Then he took a bite and his eyes bulged and he grabbed his throat and my heart skipped several beats. I was almost out of my chair to try and give him the Heimlich when I realized the bastard was just playing and I punched his shoulder hard enough to hurt. Well, me, but at least he must have felt it.

“You're an asshole,” I grumbled and shook out my hand.

He swallowed and took a moment to laugh. “I can’t wait to tell Sam. He says I can’t act to save my life.”

“I don’t think it’s real brag-worthy to get one over on a drunk girl,” I muttered and rested my head on my arms.

He turned serious all of a sudden. “Shit, I forgot–” He dug through his little backpack and pulled out painkillers and a bottle of water like a proud kid showing off his potato lamp at a science fair. “I’m sorry; I can’t believe I almost forgot these.”

“You brought this for me?” I asked. I opened the pill bottle and it still had the foil and cotton, and the water bottle seal was still uncracked. He hadn’t just brought it for me, he had bought it for me. That was…so sweet, and while I took a couple of pills and drank some of the water, he cleaned up the table.

“Come on.” He held out his hand. “I’ll take you home.”

The journey was a little fuzzy. All I could think about was that he had known I was drunk and instead of taking that as a sign to stay at his boring party, he’d left to hang out. With me. And instead of just dumping me in a cab after it all, he was coming with me. To make sure I got home safe. Because he cared that much.

Familiar melancholy rose back up in me like frothing bile, and as he helped me into my apartment I felt like I was going to burst. “Th-thank you,” I said. “I can’t– I can’t believe you brought me home.”

“I’m just doing what a friend does,” he said as he helped me to my room.

“Thank you. You're a good friend,” I said as I sat down and shut my eyes. It was going to hurt so bad when he eventually got sick of me. But it was okay. I had to make sure he knew it was okay. “I’m gonna– I’m gonna miss you when you go.”

He stopped whatever he was doing at the side table, and weight settled on the bed next to me. “When I go tonight?”

“When you get tired of me, and go,” I said and leaned my head against my pillow. I sighed. It was so much comfier.

“Why do you think I’m going to do that?” he asked quietly.

“It’s okay,” I said, because he sounded hurt. “Everyone does. It’s me; I’m…I’m no good. I’m bad at staying in touch; I flake out if I can’t handle shit. I say the wrong things. I’ve had good friends but I’ve never been one. So it’s– it’s okay. When you want to go, just know it’s oka–”

I woke up with distant dreams of fluffy pancakes, a minor headache, and a vague feeling of unease. I shut my eyes tight and loosened up when that just hurt. Why did I feel so weird? I had been a little miserable and so I had gone out. I’d gotten a little drunk. I’d texted Ste– oh no. But, wait, no, it wasn’t that bad. We had hung out, had dinner, and I’d come home. He had helped me home. And then…

I sat up and wanted to vomit for reasons other than a hangover. Because I had basically done that to Steve the night before, only worse. Normal vomit you could clean up, but what could you do about emotional vo–

Okay. I pinched the bridge of my nose. I really needed to stop thinking about being sick or I was going to get real literal about it. I took a deep breath, got out of bed, and shuffled towards my door. Physically I wasn’t actually so bad off– thanks Steve– but mentally I was spiraling– thanks Steve.

No. I gripped my head. No, that wasn’t fair; I was the one in a bad place and made it Steve’s problem. Shit. I didn’t know if this was something he would be willing to pretend never happened or if this was the beginning of the end.

I took a few seconds to control my breathing and beat back the tears. One thing at a time. First: coffee. And painkillers. And maybe some pancakes. Then I could text Steve and apologize and…go from there. Whatever that meant.

When I stepped out of my room though I lost my breath entirely.

Steve. Was on my couch. Sleeping.

Steve was sleeping on my couch.

I flailed like a weirdo and forced some control while my body wanted to flee my own damn home. What had I said that he felt he had to stay? That was worrisome, but…whatever was happening, a: I had no clue, and b: he still deserved an apology. So I went about The Plan, but I made a pot of coffee and decided to dump all the blueberry pancake mix I had into my biggest bowl.

I was getting the batter just right when I heard the couch springs shift. I put all my focus into making sure the powder-to-milk ratio was perfect and then started stirring. It was very quiet, so I took a quick peek and saw him standing right behind me. “Oh. Hey.” I faced forward and started stirring in earnest. “I was dreaming about pancakes, so I hope you like ‘em. You look like a guy who can eat a lot of pancakes; I’m–”

Steve draped his arms over my shoulders in the most relaxed hug ever. Inexplicably, my head actually felt better. “How’s the hangover?” he asked.

“Uh…” I took stock. “Not bad.” I didn’t know what to say. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

“I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

If he wanted to pretend it never happened, that was one thing, but this question was not that, and I peered over my shoulder to squint at him. “Do I have to say it?”

He stood up and shrugged. “I don’t know what you have to apologize for.”

“Puking emotion all over you?”

“That’s…evocative,” he said, wincing momentarily. “And I’m pretty sure I puked emotion all over you first.” He gave me a look with meaning. Man I hated those. “Closeted bi besties, remember?”

“What’s going to happen when you’re not closeted anymore?”

He looked like he was thinking about it. “Disaster bi besties?”

“You need to get off the internet,” I said. “But…accurate.”

“Are we okay?” he asked earnestly.

“I hope so,” I said, just as sincere.

He smiled and smoothed down his few fly-aways. “Sorry,” he said and glanced up like he could glare his hair into behaving.

I couldn’t help myself. “Oh thank God,” I said. “You were so hideous before; now I can actually look at you.”

He snorted. “You don’t share your feelings often, do you?”

“Did the teeth chattering give it away?”

“Knee-knocking, actually.” He leaned back against the counter. “So…are there going to be pancakes this year, or should we go out?”

My jaw dropped and I couldn’t help but laugh. “Asshole,” I said and buttered up a pan. “I did not mix a whole box of my best stuff for you to abandon me for IHOP. You're going to eat these pancakes or else.”

“Or else what?” he asked as I ladled some batter in.

“Or else you get no coffee,” I said and pointed at the pot. He made a sound like he quietly suffered an injury and went to pour himself a cup in the mug I had set out for him. I sipped my own while I made breakfast and smiled sweetly in return for the glare he aimed at me. As I made a breakfast for me and a human trash compactor, my headache started lifting really fast, and my body settled into a relaxed feeling suitable for a Sunday morning. Thank god for coffee.

And Steve Rogers was pretty okay too.

<<Previous Chapter Next Chapter>>

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers & reader #captain america fanfic #avengers fanfic #reader insert #lunch buddy

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sleepycoffins-and-benhargreeves · 4 years

Text

Ada’s song for Leon

So, getting into the Aeon fandom, I’m pretty new and there’s this song called Bags by Clairo that’s got me so fucked up. Listen to it here

IT’S ADA’S SONG FOR LEON, like literally everything about it is about her feelings and shit and I cry

Like the literal start of it goes:

“Every second counts I don't wanna talk to you anymore, and All these little games You can call me by the name I gave you Yesterday, yeah”

Ada is a spy to which canonically, no one knows her real name yet. So, giving her fake name to Leon and not wasting time like romance or other shit, it gives me so much feels ya’ll

then we have here the chorus:

“Can you see me? I'm waiting for the right time I can't read you but, if you want, the pleasure's all mine Can you see me using everything to hold back? I guess this could be worse Walking out the door with your bags”

Like, since she’s a spy and all that. Her job is so dangerous that she can’t just have a normal connection to people like everyone else. But with Leon? She wants that that connection and is waiting for the right time. Like, maybe she wants to quit at one point. Maybe she’s thought of it before. Maybe she just wants some time with Leon because like him, everything in this world is so dark and cruel that they can only see the light with each other.

She’s saying she can’t read him because, in the earlier games, Leon was this naive person but, with a heart of gold. He wants to see the good in people and Ada finds that baffling, like she can’t understand how he can live like that. But, if it’s Leon who she’s gonna learn it from then, it is a pleasure and she would want to learn that.

And the last part of the chorus?

“I guess this could be worse Walking out the door with your bags”

God I AM JUST IMAGINING ADA NOT BEING ABLE TO SAVE LEON FOR ONCE AND HE DOES DIE. Like, that is the literal worse thing that could happen for her! We all know it’s canon that Ada and Leon get together from time to time right?

Like romances and such happen. So, the idea of Ada going to Leon’s home to get some of her stuff. But, she realizes that the bag she brought or that she didn’t bring a bag at all couldn’t fit all of her belongings. So, she has to use the bags that Leon has in this place to pack her things and just.

The line

“Walking out the door with your bags”

Means so so much now when given that kind of context, that there are times Ada thinks of those things and she fucking DREADS for that day to come and hope it never happens.

And then we have this:

“Pour your glass of wine Bet you'll tell me I should be just fine, yeah Cases under the bed Spill it open, let it rush to my head I don't wanna be forward I don't wanna cut corners Savor this with everything I have inside of me I'm not the type to run I know that we're having fun But what's the rush? Kissing, then my cheeks are so flushed”

Remember in vendetta that Leon started having a drinking problem? And just gosh, of course he wouldn’t drink wine and it’s more of an Ada thing but fucking hell. I felt that shit

And then, Ada not being honest with her feelings and looking like she’s just leading Leon on. But, everyone know’s that it’s not that. It’s because she’s A FUCKING SPY and she just wants to protect the few people she actually cares about. She just wants this one thing in her life to go on and not be tainted for once.

And the kissing part of this line? God, beautiful. Just imagining a beautiful and passionate Aeon scene of them, kissing slowly and just savoring it because they don’t know if this will be the last time or not. And they’re both just hoping this won’t be the last but, they have to savor it because you never know what tomorrow will bring. If it’ll be the end of the world or not.

AND THIS:

“Tell you how I felt Sugar coated melting in your mouth Pardon my emotions I should probably keep it all to myself Know you'd make fun of me”

Ada being afraid of emotions and love because you know. WHAT IF THEY BOTH JUST PLAY IT OFF OR SOMETHING. She hates her emotions because it makes her vulnerable and weak so, she sugar coats them, tells sweet words but never quite confirms them truly.

She just wants to keep it to herself. To protect both herself and Leon

Because in the end, it always comes back to that line:

“I guess this could be worse Walking out the door with your bags”

And that is literally the worse thing/case/scenario that could ever happen and Ada will be damned if she doesn’t do everything in her might to not let Leon die. Because her walking out of his apartment with her stuff and using his bags just hurts so fucking much.

and it makes me so sad and I just love this ship so much and this is such a perfect song for Ada and how she feels about Leon AND I HATE THIS SO MUCH BECAUSE THIS SONG DOESN’T EVEN RELATE TO RE BUT, THIS SOUNDS SO FUCKING MUCH LIKE ADA’S SONG AND HOW SHE IS

AND I CRY

I NEED THAT FUCKING MEME PICTURE FROM POKEMON ABOUT THE POKEMON BEING ALL LIKE IT HURT ITSELF IN CONFUSION OR SMTH BECAUSE WHY DID I DO THIS TO MYSELF WHY DID I SUBJECT MYSELF TO THIS TORTURE

this beautiful torture, I just love aeon so much *cries*

#Aeon #Ada Wong #Leon Kennedy #Resident Evil #Leon S. Kennedy #re #re ada #re leon #i fucked up #i am so sad #why #i've been meaning to post this for a while now #i am this sad #and i need to take you all down with me here

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sarinataylor · 5 years

Note

Joger ask: how would they cope with Roger having a crisis about the fact that John has written hit singles including their biggest ever hit and he has yet to pop his a-aide cherry? Is he rubbish? Is he really just a pretty face? He knows he brings lots of musical input & the sonic volcano & ‘the girl for everything’ for the band but really, who is he kidding? And John can’t deny that he aced his degree or does the finances or wrote hits... Thankfully Radio Gaga comes along and all ends well...

hmmmm ok. this got? long. very ramble-y. apologies

so like. roger is so fucking proud of john y’know???? and it’s not john’s songs being more successful than his which is cutting deep (because, well, commercial success is somewhat ehh to roger now that they’ve already made it big. the music he’s writing and creating, off on the side, is more about the music than anything else), it’s that he didn’t see it coming

100% did not see aobtd being a hit. hated recording it with his drums taped up, and thought the whole thing was a waste of time which.... it obviously wasn’t because john’s latest royalty cheque was big enough to have even freddie blinking in surprise

and. well. roger’s kind of always been the one with his finger on the pulse, so to speak. roger was riding the early waves of punk before the sex pistols had so much as looked at a safety pin and thought, “hmm, i wonder”. and his ability to keep up with, stay just one step ahead, of the trends has been invaluable in the past and now.... he might be slipping behind?

because even though he fucking hated half of the lines in ymbf he... he knew it was going to be a hit in the US. that sort of soft poppy feel, with a funky little bassline? the american’s eat that shit up in spades. of course it was going to be popular.

but, yeah, he didn’t see aobtd being a hit and now he’s starting to wonder if maybe the reason he isn’t writing hits isn’t because he hasn’t been trying to appeal to the broader audience, hasn’t been trying to write songs that will get massive air time or be played in clubs, but because he’s got no fucking clue about what people want anymore

‘girl for everything.......... except knowing what people want’ doesn’t, uh, sound as good

and it’s not? it’s not a Big Deal, not really. he just gets a little quieter about voicing his opinions on tracks because, well, maybe he doesn’t actually know what the fuck he’s talking about?

and so, hot space

brian’s losing his gd mind arguing with everyone and everything because he feels backed into a corner, freddie isn’t playing the peacekeeping role he usually does, john is being Just a Little Bit of an egotistic shit, and roger is........... not getting involved. which works kind of awfully because both brian and john take his silence as tacit approval of their position, which boils over into a lot of misunderstandings about just what it is roger thinks about what’s going on in the studio

(and mostly what roger thinks about what’s going on in the studio is that this album is going to be a Fucking Disaster because instead of ripping apart one anothers songs and building them back up stronger all they’re doing is ripping into one another and calling it creative differences)

and he tosses up a couple of songs and lets them do what they will with them (and oh my god if you haven’t listened to action this day performed live???? do urself a favour and do it oh my god i fucking hated that song until i listened to it live) because well. they probably know better than he does at the moment, because he doesn’t quite trust himself. and tensions are high enough that inserting himself into the cockfight when he isn’t actually Sure about his opinions just seems an unnecessary risk.

and. uh. hot space...................................................... does as it does

and john is pretty mortified about the whole thing because.... ???? all of that work and fighting and it’s flopping which is. made all the more worse by brian’s oh too casual sympathetic comments during the press junket, and then even worse by the way that roger. doesn’t seem surprised?? because. well. even when it was a love song written about roger roger was honest about what he didn’t like about it, but now there’s a whole fucking album that john pushed really hard for and roger a) didn’t like it and b) didn’t tell him

he thought they respected one another more than that. he thought they were more secure than that.

which sort of........ simmers uncomfortably between them as they gear up for the tour and sort of. explodes when roger starts making suggestions for changes to some of the songs for the live performances that. annoyingly sound much better and why didn’t you bring this up when we were recording the fucking album, roger (look aight atd sounds SO MUCH BETTER LIVE, IT’S BEEN MONTHS AND IM STILL SHOOK)

and roger’s sort pussyfooting around it because oh well... you know you and freddie really wanted to this one as a sort of concept album..... and brian and i didn’t want to interfere...... (brian: very much did want to interfere) ............ so ya know................ it’s not really my style so i didn’t wanna stick my foot where it doesn’t belong.........

and john’s like???? its music what the fuck are you Talking About? you know music you know what sounds good and what doesnt and it’s not like you’ve ever been shy about voicing your opinions before, so forgive me if im a bit confused about the sudden reticence

regardless, it’s Not a Big Deal. no really. roger will insist this til the day he dies

and things calm down? they take a break and, as they are wont to do, the tensions of the band slowly start slipping from john and roger’s day to day lives? like, when they’re not living in close quarters and feeding off of the energies that brian and freddie and mack and everyone else is putting out. it’s just them, yeah?

but anyway, roger’s still been writing music and ha enough for a new solo album so he’s like. yeah. think imma do that and john’s a bit taken aback because? fuck, you’ve been busy then you said you didn’t have much of anything for hot space??? and roger’s like. uh, yup. been busy. busy bee, me. ya know. while ur out painting the shed i gotta keep myself occupied somehow

except. well. john’s obviously lending a hand with bass and mixing, and brian’s in and out too, so’s freddie and. it’s freddie, actually, who picks up that roger had been working on the beat of I Cry for You (Love, Hope and Confusion) back in the studio when they’d been working on hot space which. doesn’t make sense, because he definitely hadn’t shown them it to them which is odd, because roger usually shows them everything he writes in case they want it for queen?

and then brian chimes in because, actually, he recognises the lyrics for killing time?

and john is like what the FUCK is going on because this is just? weird?

so john ends up lowkey cornering him at home in a totally not cool sneaky fashion (read: he gives him a fucking mindblowing orgasm and then is like [head propped on roger’s chest] SO) because???? ofc he supports rog’s solo career but also? why didn’t he share what he was writing with him? what’s going on? music’s always been a language they’ve shared, even if they tended towards different dialects, and now it... well it doesn’t feel very good that roger seems to be inching him out of something that john knows is so very important to him

and roger’s like huh no idea what you’re talking bout. been really busy writing recently. shame though, means i might not have much for the next queen album

and john’s like? do you want to leave queen, if that what this is about?

and roger’s horrified because what the fuck no i’m just not sure i’ll have much to contribute is all which has john like?? because. it’s roger of course he’s got something to contribute what the fuck are you talking about

but roger’s like oh well ya know nothing im really writing at the moment is much of our current style so. that’s cool, though. that’s fine

but john is confused bc well. hot space was a bit of a failure so they’re probably headed back to more consistent waters so that’s not a problem, and hey, maybe if roger had injected a bit more of his style into the album things might have been better right?

ANYWAY basically john’s like yo my man like. if u dont wanna write any material for the new album that’s? fine ig? but we kinda Need You to be a little bitch about the things u dont like because.... things work better when ur being a nitpicky little bitch than when ur being silently supportive of me :) though that was sweet

and rogers like oh i was 100% not being supportive of either u or brian’s bullshit tbh i just. disco isn’t my forte ya know i didn’t wanna chat shit ab smth i know nothing about like, god, imagine if you’d listened to me about aobtd?????????

which. john’s like. i? i mean, i did. fuck sake, the whole thing got rewritten to be about our dog (steve) bc u made a joke about it? i. i did listen to u about aobtd

and john has honestly NO IDEA what any of this is about? because roger has an awful tendency to sit on things until they’re Much Bigger than what they were to begin with. like, john’s actually not great at that? he’s not very good at hiding that he’s angry or upset, not for the long term. roger’s a lot better at it in the worst kind of way, because unless you pick up on it right at the beginning by the time you’ve figured out something’s wrong it’s months down the track and so many micro interactions or events have been tacked onto the Original Problem that it’s a sprawling mess of “i dont want to communicate that im feeling vulnerable about something so instead im gonna try and turn my vulnerabilities into armour” - like deciding to turn all of your writing, not just the stuff that won’t fit on your main project’s albums, into solo material because your solo stuff doesn’t have to be successful

but also, ok fine.

and so he sort of? lets it go? because tbh once roger latches onto something, when u havent go in there early enough? your best bet is to just wait for him to.... get over it. which he generally does. he doesnt have the patience for decade long grudge matches, not really.

and then it all comes to a head when brian writes and shows them all machines (or: back to humans) which obvs came about from an idea of roger’s and. well. freddie thinks its amazing, john is nodding along even as he sends him small little side eyes and well. fuck it, right?

and so the next week he comes in and slams down the first rough draft of radio gaga, the music heavily influenced by I Cry for You (Love, Hope and Confusion) which freddie had been complaining about being used up on a solo album

and then he goes home and tops the hell out of john, the end.

#lo talks #joger hc's #headcanon asks #Anonymous

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sociallyawkward--fics · 5 years

Note

my family and i drove down to arizona to see the grand canyon and it literally just rained the whole time. -H

i just squished a spider with a book but now im too terrified to go anywhere near it. -H (it’s 1 am i don’t have time for this) (and there was some other creepy crawley that i saw but i can’t fIND it and there’s no way im getting back on my bed until it’s dead) (bugs are terrify me so much just kill me now im aboutta cry last time i couldn’t find a spider i didn’t sleep at all) (every time i type,,,eight legged thing the emoji for it pops up and i have a mini freak out)

nvm i found the other creepy crawly but i can’t get near it -H (it’s low on the wall how do i kill it pls send help) (i let out the most pathetic whine when i saw the creepy crawly despite the fact it’s over a yard away from me). (it’s a lil squiggly creepy crawly it’s not even,,,,y’know,,,,,) (like legit the emoji terrifies me i can’t type s*pider or b*ug without dying inside)

i think the creepy crawly went back inside it’s hole or smth bc it disappeared in the corner of the wall but i can’t get close enough to check -H (the corner of the wall that my bed is in i just pulled it out to find the creepy crawlies) (i was planning on sleeping at some point but oh well) (I thought i saw a creepy crawly on me and almost burst into tears) (see this is why i don’t make friends bc ill end up doing this at 1 am in the morning) (it’s better than suffering alone i guess)

sorry if i bugged you -H (pun but also not on purpose bc the emojis appeared again and i almost dropped my phone) (screw my life) (but also im really sorry if i,,,,annoyed you) (or i guess if you also don’t like creepy crawlies??) (ugh i need to google smth to help me but at the same time,,,,,if like a picture of a creepy crawly popped up id actually die or smth) (I tried it last time this happened and,,,,,,,,,,nope never doing that again)

i got my dad and im sleeping upstairs everything’s gucci now. -H (fricking creepy crawlies)

Being depressed doesn’t sound too good. -H

--------------------------------------

Yeah, first time I ever went it was like that too. It sucked, so foggy and rainy you couldn’t see anything. I was terrified I was gonna slip on the wet asphalt and slide into the canyon and die (i was like 9 and I had anxiety lol) so my grandmama was like “hold my hand and you won’t fall” and then SHE slipped and fell and started sliding down the asphalt road and wouldn’t let go of my hand so I almost fell down and started sliding too and we were all screaming, it was a grand old traumatizing time lol (no one fell in the canyon fyi lol). I didn’t truly get to see it until I went on an astronomy club trip (with the geology club as well) and we spent a whole day there. It’s gorgeous. If you even get the chance to go again, I hope it’s better.

Omg kiddo, I’m so sorry that stuff with the creepy crawlies happened. I have a MASSIVE bug phobia myself, to the point where if I even see a bug-like creature I almost have a panic attack, so I get it. That really sucks and I’m sorry you had to deal with that last night. You’re so brave for killing that first one. I’m glad you’re dad was able to help and I hope you got some rest, I know how hard that is. And don’t worry, the pun was pretty good, but you’re never bugging or bothering me.

And nah, it’s not that great. I think it’s a mix of going from BUSY BUSY BUSY everyday to literally nothing to keep me occupied except streaming services, social media, and searching for a therapist (I guess I should probably write, or I could read, too), and also just coming back to a bit of a mess with certain things and people that I’m not super gonna go into because I’m trying to do better about not publicly broadcasting ALL my dirty laundry on social media lol, just some of it

#ask #anon #H anon #bug tw #insect tw #spider tw

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karmanticmoved · 5 years

Note

1-85 uwu

j esus okay

1. describe yourself.

uh,, emotional ig, dumbass, quiet, exhausted all of the time, v queer, healthy mix of feminine and masculine, insecure, and not tha t great tbh. kinda a pussy ass b itch

2. if you could go anywhere for a week all expenses paid where would it be?

idrk. maybe somewhere like a hella nice beach in another country, maybe somewhere in europe. i like travelling but i hate the travel to get there and have no money so i havent put thought into it. maybe hawaii or somewhere like that.

3. do you have siblings?

the one thats still alive is my half brother

4. what is your favorite constellation, why?

orion maybe bc i don't know a lot but i can see that one from my bedroom window even in the city n idk. its comforting. or scorpius cause i'm a scorpio

5. favorite color.

yellow, pink, or blue.

6. what kind of music do you listen to?

almost anything. whatever catches my interest.

7. favorite flower. (you can name as many as you want cause flowers are awesome)

forgot what i said last time but those

yellow carnations i think?

8. if you could do magic, what is the first spell you would learn?

maybe smth to put myself to sleep immediately bc f uCk

9. favorite childhood memory.

my summer camp memories are pretty great. also memories of my dad and i going fishing are good.

10. have you ever been cheated on?

i mean in theory i couldve been bc online relationships but no. n im polyam and have identified as such for a majority of my relationships so no.

11. if you could describe your perfect room, what would it be?

big but not too big, yknow? like big enough that it can be filled and have room to walk around and lay on the ground or whatever but not Empty. and a pretty big bed to stretch out on, n a closet in the room. multiple windows w blackout curtains so theres light but it can be blocked out. n fluffy rugs or carpeting but preferably rugs in case smth spills so we can get it out of at least Remove the rug. and probably a cat tree thing in corner for dipper. n a computer desk and actual lights that light up the whole room. but probably,, fairy lights too bc full lights too bright. and i kinda want a pink room but blue or yellow work also. a nd pride flags on the walls + posters and various other stuff bc plain walls are boring. and tons n tons of b ooks too.

12. favorite animal.

river otter

13. what was the last photo you took of?

cat

14. do you believe in soul mates?

i'm not sure. i do kinda think there are people who you will like. really really click with and who become so important in your life that they're like. apart of u yknow? but i don't think that anyone as an individual needs to keep those people in their life forever. they arent destined to stay with them, and they shouldnt force that relationship (platonic, familial, romantic, or whatever) even if they were close for years and years. screw destiny. youll have people you care about, and sometimes you have to break that bond to save yourself, and thats okay. there will be other people who can and will be just as important. that got kinda off topic skbsks. i don't think theres really like Destiny soulmates. but there could be like. soulmates in the sense of for however long we're together, we're soul bonded. even if its not forever. does that even make se nse skbsns

15. do you hang toilet paper over or under?

over is the one thats socially acceptable right

16. your go to place to eat & your favorite thing to get there.

idk theres a place near a movie theater closeish to my house and its a nice little cafe and i dont eat there bc i dont eat much in general but i get their bubble tea and i love. raspberry bubble tea w rose popping bubbles. its comfort drink.

17. do you believe everything happens for a reason?

no. sometimes shit happens for no reason, and its bullshit, but you can't reverse it, so you gotta figure out how to move on from it.

18. guilty pressures?

im assuming thats meant to be pleasures

umm,, idrk. i don't know what exactly i like that would count as a guilty pleasure so,,

19. favorite mythical creature, why?

merpeople are s o cool i fuckin. love funky aquatic pals hell yeah. maybe im just Water babey but. they're rad. dragons are also hella cool bc like dragons???? theyre scaly and prett y and can breathe fire or have wings and kill u?? also like selkies bc again. water. but i used to hear a lot of stories abt them and theyre so nea t

20. something most people don’t know about you.

i have the potential to be a huge asshole and also kinda Wish to fuckin murder someone sometimes but. i act nice most of the time anyway.

not murder murder but i can get angr y enough that i just wanna Stab smth

21. where did you grow up, what was it like?

grew up kinda near the edge of the city, still in it but not like the main city area. in western washington. it was kinda rly boring, i used to spend a lot more time outside or just by myself playing with leaves or toys or whatever. when i had friends i played make believe w them even when outside of school. so yeah. boring id say.

22. do you believe aliens exist?

sure.

23. what was your last google search?

other than names for some actors n stuff, i was looking up various star wars things

24. what did your last relationship teach you?

the one that like. ended? i guess thatd be. be careful with your own feelings and try to figure them out before jumping into anything, and also don't try to force smth that in reality isnt really working.

25. would you relocate for love?

honestly yeah

26. do you hold grudges or forgive easy?

both. it just depends on how badly i or someone i care about was hurt by it. more likely to hold a grudge if a friend was hurt by someone d eep enough to leave a lasting impact or if they don't get a genuine apology i will be 🔫🔫. or if the person keeps hurting them. even if that person is also my friend.

27. favorite book.

favorite graphic novel is bloom by kevin panetta

favorite books in general are autoboyography, more happy than not, and what if its us. all gay. i know. its okay. im a kinnie.

28. do you consider yourself an extrovert or introvert?

introvert by far

29. have you ever kept a journal, do you now?

i tried once. i probably will have to once i go see a therapist, or at least one for my Bad Thoughts

30. top 5 favorite movies.

in no particular order

little shop of horrors, love simon, coco, it (2017 and 1990), and shazam! ig? maybe others but i definitely Forgot all the shit ive watched

31. do you believe that everything happens for a reason?

32. what is your greatest fear?

definitely gotta be all of the people i love hating me and abandoning me or secretly hating me and then leaving me without saying anything. and the worst part is im always afraid its gonna happen babeyy

33. favorite alcoholic beverage.

im baby

34. most embarrassing thing you’ve done.

im embarrassed by my own existence. i don't remember the Most embarrassing thing

35. do you believe in ghosts?

not until i have proof that i can actually trust and believe in

36. what is the best and worst part of your personality?

idk ig im nice. but im also. very easily set off on certain emotions especially the bad ones which sucks like especially jealousy bc i dont wanna!! feel jealous!! tho i think that ties into my greatest fear bc my brain immediately tells me im useless to everyone and they hate me. but. sometimes i get jealous and then feel bad for that and then hate myself for all of it. bc my friends deserve to hang out w other people and care about other people im just fucking stupid babey !!

37. should you split the dinner bill?

i rly don't get why you wouldnt tbh like if u both wanna be there u should both pay. but if one person gonna pay it should be the person that asked.

38. are you a good liar?

most of the time. when it comes to my mental health i can either lie great or im literally breaking down in front of the person so

39. what keeps you up at night?

depressing thoughts. anxiety about everything. wishing i could cuddle and fall asleep w jay. sometimes i just cant sleep bc im too restless.

40. would you rather go without your phone or music?

music. i need my phone to text my friends and i Need my friends

41. do you believe in god?

what god would let the world get to the point its at. what god would allow people to do such fucked up shit.

no. i don't.

42. how do you relax when frustrated?

cry, take a nap, take a shower, listen to music, cuddle dipper

43. what’s something that offends you?

when people go "oh yeah i support gay rights but im still gonna eat at chick fil a bc its good" like i get so fucking. pissed off by that. youre not gonna fucking s ta rv e without their goddamn chicken. i know a bi person who goes there and says its okay bc they dont Directly Give Their money to Specifically anti gay organisations but im just. ugh. fucking pissed bc there are other places to get food just avoid the one place for fucks sake. their food is good it doesnt matter. its like saying yeah pewdiepie is a bad person and nazi and a racist asshole but his videos r funni haha so im gonna watch him anyway

44. favorite food

i hate myself whenever i eat food

45. if you were on a 10 hour flight and could sit and talk to any person the entire time, who would it be?

@destinedformuchmore or @pinaplelee

46. when do you feel the most confident?

never? but ig i feel confident when working on tech construction during theater tech. as long as i know what im doing.

47. what do you do in your free time?

sleep. draw. cry. play video games. talk to my friends.

48. is there anyone who has completely lost your respect

matpat did for being a dick abt neopronouns and making a transphobic joke and only apologizing when a cis person told him to. not when hundreds of trans people did. and also other jokes that are inherently offensive to various groups. a n d for making extremely not Child friendly jokes in his videos which are very much targeted towards kids. say what you will about the target audience, there are a lot of children who watch them. please stop making creepy nsfw jokes if you won't even swear, sir.

49. have you ever broken someone’s heart?

i guess so yeah. but she also broke mine first.

50. did/do you play sports in school?

i did. i don't anymore bc highschool sports are bullshit but. basketball, ultimate, and soccer.

51. when are you happiest?

talkin 2 jay prolly

52. coffee or tea?

tea

53. what is one possession you own you wouldn’t want to live without?

my binder. or my stuffed cat puppet thing ive had since i was 7

54. what is the first thing you notice about a person?

their general emotions, mostly. like if theyre in a good mood or if theyre bored or distracted or whatever. or if they seem interested in actually talking to me

55. what is your favorite season, why?

fall. my birthday, the atmosphere is nice, it's pretty, its hoodie weather.

56. what makes you laugh?

stupid little comments or jokes my friends make tend to make me laugh a lot harder than i should but jabdn

57. are you a clean or messy person?

a mix. i Cannot have some things messy or i will ksjqkd. Die but i don't make my bed too often bc its ha rd when its against 3 walls.

58. what is important for a successful relationship?

communication communication communicati

talk about ur goddamn problems n keep talking to each other.

59. what was your upcoming like?

if thats supposed to be upbringing

idk, very relaxed. pretty easygoing and kinda boring.

60. favorite holiday?

any holiday in december rly. i don't celebrate a Lot but the atmosphere and others celebrating is nice to see. i kinda wish my parents did more to embrace the jewish part in our family blike. whatever. christmas is fun.

61. what is the first thing you’d do if you won the lottery?

give half of it to my parents. and then probably use it for plane ticket

62. what’s the best pizza topping combination?

hawaiian pizza. pinapple n canadian bacon ty

63. favorite outdoor activity.

frisbee

64. how are you? honestly.

not great. i want highschool to end.

65. would you rather go camping in the woods or stay at a beach resort?

idk. camping is fun but if i get to stay at the resort for free i would rly love 2 stay at a resort tbh ive never done that

66. what is the most beautiful thing in nature?

waterfalls. or rivers or just. water in nature. and very green forests. aNd snow.

67. favorite type of candy?

none

68. if your life was a book, what would be the title?

i can and will do arson, an autobiography

69. what movie quotes do you use of a regular bases?

i quote john mulaney and whatever my obsessions are pretty regularly

70. what was cool when you were young but not cool now?

silly bandz. pokemon cards. these weird unicorn figures i collected

71. what’s the craziest conversation you have ever eves dropped on?

im mostly the one having the weird conversations

72. what’s the most interesting documentary you’ve ever watched?

i watched one about dogs and cats and their evolution which was lit

73. what’s the worst hairstyle you’ve had?

when i let the lady just go fuckin ham on my hair bc i was watching spirit that horse movie and didnt wanna stop so it was. rly bad bangs and hella short in back but not the sides

74. what do you like to cook?

whatever im hungry for. i don't have the energy to cook a lot

75. what’s the coolest animal you’ve seen in the wild?

really pretty tropical fish

76. what’s the funniest tv show you’ve ever seen?

idk. i rly like schitts creek its pretty amusing

77. do you usually follow your heart or your head?

heart at first but my head if things get bad

78. what is your favorite quote?

"i have a splitting headache and i think i'm dying. how are you?"

or a character just saying "try harder" when another failed to do smth.

this is supposed to be deep or whatever but im in a Mood

79. what’s the weirdest crush you have ever had?

once had a crush on a character in a minecraft parody lmao

80. what’s your love language?

sending shit that makes me think of them. n just. making tons of stuff for them both online and irl like bracelets.

81. do you ever feel alone?

oh yeah. all the time. im not but it feels like i am which sucks

82. ever been bullied?

yeah

83. are you usually early or late?

late bc of my parents rip

84. what kind of art do you enjoy most?

drawing, or writing. also theater.

85. what do you wish you knew more about?

i just wish i could remember everything ive learned more about. i know a lot i just forget all.

id like to know more about forensics tho

#asks #long post #friends

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vincent-frankenstein · 6 years

Text

Bloodbond - Chapter Thirteen

The last part of my entry for @ts-storytime!!

Chapter Summary: One bond is broken, and another takes its place. Virgil and Roman stand side-by-side and face an uncertain future.

Pairings: prinxiety, background joan/talyn

Warnings: I can't think of anything Really Bad in this one, but shoot me a dm if u need smth tagged!

Read on A03

{ 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 }

art by @pattykrabbies {here} and @vdkstar {here}!!!

(cover by @vdkstar <3)

“Hey!”

Warmth. Soft, gentle warmth, and calming light to match. He groaned softly, shifting.

“Wake up, idiot. We’re back.”

There was a hand on his shoulder, shaking him awake, and the voice above him ripped with sarcasm and exhaustion and a dryness all its own, the accent wonderfully familiar. He felt a rush of relief as he opened his eyes, blinking in the scarlet light from the sky above.

“Virgil,” he breathed.

“Ugh, finally.” Virgil rolled his eyes, a certain fondness to his smirk that made Roman’s heart flutter. “You snore like a bear, you know that?”

“Lies and slander,” Roman said in mock-offense. His body ached, his thoughts slow and sore, but still he pushed himself to his feet, tearing his eyes from Virgil for a moment to survey their surroundings.

They sat in the shadow of the queen’s castle, just beyond the front door; but it was different, somehow, nicer. Lighter. He felt no rush of fear, no deluge of depressing thoughts — only a heavy tidal wave of relief. They’d made it out. They were okay.

“Roman!”

A blur of orange and white tore away from a tall man standing at the edge of the clearing and came at him faster than the fastest of spells, nearly knocking him over in their haste. Roman beamed, a relieved noise somewhere between a laugh and a cry tearing from his throat.

“If you ever fucking convince me to do something as stupid as this again, I’ll kill you.” Joan held him tightly for a moment, as though afraid he’d disappear, and then pulled away, crossing their arms. “And I mean that as lovingly as possible, you stupid f-word face.”

“Aww, come on, it all worked out in the end!” Roman said with a laugh. “And it seems someone made a new friend, too, so you got even more than we bargained for!”

He wiggled his eyebrows, nodding towards Talyn, who rolled their eyes but offered Joan a smile.

“So, uh… what were you saying about me being a traitor, again?” Roman whispered jokingly, his smile growing wider when Joan returned Talyn’s smile with a suspiciously red face.

“Shut up.”

Roman burst out laughing, stifling his giggles behind his hand as Joan glared, red-faced. He opened his mouth to tease more, but a sudden voice cut him off.

“... Son.”

Roman turned, looking up into the grizzled, scarred face of his father. King Odin stood tall, his face a kaleidoscope of distrust and uncertainty.

“Father,” Roman said, keeping his voice even, though his heart pounded warily in his chest. Internally, he cringed, waiting for the anger to overtake his father’s face, waiting for him to prattle on about demons and betrayal and whisk him away, away from his new friends and away from Virgil.

“What you did was incredibly reckless,” he began, his voice gruff. “You broke nearly a dozen of our kingdom’s laws. You teamed up with demons. Under normal circumstances, I would have you exiled.”

Roman found only cold defiance where he’d expected to find fear. “I also saved your life,” he snapped. “Have you ever considered that you might be, I don’t know, wrong?”

“Let me finish,” King Odin said harshly. Then, as a hesitant afterthought, “...please.”

Roman crossed his arms and nodded. King Odin sighed, dragging his gaze across the mismatched bunch of humans and demons before him.

“Under normal circumstances,” he repeated. “These are… not normal circumstances. You… all… saved my life. Your sentiment might hold… some truth, I suppose. You demons aren’t all... as bad as I thought.”

Roman’s eyes widened. Was he… admitting he was wrong? Roman hadn’t thought that was possible. King Odin was prideful and powerful and never wrong.

But today, King Odin was hesitant. “I may be willing to… reconsider my earlier viewpoints…” he said, his voice a low, halting growl. Roman gaped, spluttering. This was the last thing he had expected. “I still don’t trust them and I still don’t approve of your rescue methods, but… recent events must be taken into account.”

He faced Roman, and something new flashed through his eyes. “Roman, you… you did what you had to do to save me. You did what you knew was… right, and you stood up to me over it. You were strong, and that’s all I’ve ever wanted you to be.”

And then his father set a hand on Roman’s shoulder and offered something Roman had never seen from him before: a smile.

“I’m proud of you,” his father said — and Roman, for all he prided his loquaciousness, found himself stricken speechless. His father’s words echoed through his mind.

“I — thank you.” It felt amazing, hearing his father say the words he’d longed to hear for so long, and he knew this was all he had ever wanted — but he also knew that it wasn’t all he wanted anymore. He’d faced dragon-witches and sirens and foes so dangerous it was a wonder he was still alive. He’d literally traveled to hell and back. And he’d learned things, too, things about himself and about the word, and he’d realized; he wanted his father’s praise... But he didn’t need it anymore.

Because, sure, King Odin was proud of him… but he was proud of himself.

He glanced at Virgil, and brought his gaze across Sleep and Talyn and Joan, as though to remind himself that they were still there, that they were okay — and then, finally, his eyes landed on a stranger, standing at the edge of the group with his arm around Joan’s shoulders. He recognized him by the patch on his sleeves, the Gaepried crest surrounded by stars.

The Royal Mage.

He stood taller than Roman, smiling despite the remnants of blood streaked across the side of his face. A mess of freckles covered his round, tan face, as though he had been splattered there by a haphazard painter, and his hair was soft and golden-brown, the tips darkened with deep purple dye. He noticed Roman’s curious gaze and, drawing his arm from around Joan, stepped forward and offered his hand.

“I, uh, I don’t think I’ve introduced myself yet,” he began, his voice cheerful. “I’m the Royal Mage, Thomas. It’s an honor to meet you, your highness!”

“Ah, call me Roman,” Roman said, returning the mage’s kind smile. “And you have no idea how much I have gone through just to meet you.”

“To meet… me?” he asked, and Virgil snorted at his confused expression. “Why?”

“Well…” Roman exchanged a look with Virgil. “We have a small problem that we need your help with.”

“Small?” Virgil scoffed. “Understatement of the century.”

“Hush, Sir Snark-A-Lot.” Roman rolled his eyes. “So, Thomas, have you by any chance ever heard of a Bloodbond?”

Thomas gasped and nodded, eyes wide, and the group watched with rapt attention, ready for a story that Roman was all-too-happy to tell. He prided himself on being an excellent storyteller, and this time was no different; he touted the exciting parts and glazed over the less-than-ideal ones, spinning a story so grand he almost couldn’t believe he’d live through it. The sky above melted into a golden-scarlet sunless sunset as he wove his story; and at the end of it all, silence reigned.

“Wait, so — holy shit, that’s why…” Joan broke the silence a few charged moments later, eyes wide. “I am so sorry I was ever rude to you, man,” they said, addressing Virgil with an almost-teasing lilt beneath their voice. “Speaking from experience, for you to have dealt with him for so long like that… you’re braver than any Gaepriedian soldier.”

“Hey!” Roman cried, affronted, placing a hand over his heart as though he’d been wounded.

“Ugh, thank you. Finally, someone agrees with me about how annoying that little shit is.” Virgil’s voice shook with laughter. “Trust me, it was absolute torture.”

“I am right here!” Roman exclaimed, glaring when the two burst out laughing. But it wasn’t long before the corners of his own lips began to twitch, and he rolled his eyes as a begrudging smile spread across his face.

“Girl, you tried to cast a half-translated spell. I think they’re allowed to laugh at you.” Sleep leaned against a tree and offered Roman a teasing half-smile, his voice slow and honeyed as though he’d been close to catching his namesake.

“I’m not gonna lie, that was a pretty bad idea,” Thomas added, rubbing the back of his neck. Roman huffed, crossing his arms.

“Glad to see you all bonding over this,” he grumbled. “But really, if you’re done making fun of the best person out of all of you, I think we have more important matters to discuss.”

“I agree,” his father said. “I don’t approve of how you got into this mess, but it’s imperative that you get out of it.” He paused, and then… “And, obviously, I’m the best person out of all of you. That’s just a fact.”

“Oh, so that’s where he gets it from,” Virgil muttered with a roll of his eyes as Roman gasped loudly, offended. “But yeah, I’m with princey. Let’s get this figured out.”

“Princey?” Joan echoed. “Oh my god, I’m calling you that forever now.”

“Joan, no —”

“Anyway,” Thomas said insistently, cutting Roman off before he could argue. “I… I can definitely reverse that. Right now, if you want? It’s a complicated spell, but this place is filled with magic, so it shouldn’t be too hard. I just need something to write some runes with…”

“I have a pen,” Talyn offered, rummaging through their bag. Thomas smiled and began scribbling runes across his hand, instructing Joan and Sleep as they began spreading paper across the ground.

Virgil caught Roman’s eye. The look on his face was insistent, if a bit shy, and Roman pushed himself to his feet.

“We’ll, ah… we’ll be right back,” he said, and followed Virgil farther into the dead forest around them, the soft din of conversation behind them dulling to a charged silence.

“So.” Virgil stopped and leaned against a bare tree, his wings shifting behind him. “Once that human finishes the spell, you’ll finally be rid of me So, uh… this is goodbye, I guess.”

Roman blinked, a strange feeling spreading through his chest. Just a week ago, he would have given anything to hear those words, to be ‘free.’ But now? Now, the thought of saying goodbye, of never seeing him again... it hurt, in a strange, hot sort of way. Now… he didn’t want to leave.

“So I figured we should get… whatever it is we have to get out of the way… out of the way before…” He crossed his arms, the rose-shaped clasp on his borrowed cloak catching the sunset’s light and gleaming.

“Wait!” Roman said quickly, his voice almost cracking. “Why does this have to be goodbye? Won’t we… see each other again?”

Virgil raised an eyebrow, regarding him strangely. “Uh-huh. Because we’re going to cast massive summoning spells every time we want to see each other, right?” He sighed. “Look. You’re going to go back to your kingdom, and I…” He looked around, eyes catching on the castle looming overhead. “I’ll go back to… mine, and that’ll be the end of it.”

“But —”

“But nothing, princey. I’m a demon, you’re a human, we can’t — it just doesn’t work like that. That’s not how things are.”

“But what if it didn’t have to be that way?” Roman exclaimed, louder than he’d intended, and Virgil startled, eyes going wide. “What if…” he said again, quieter this time, and stepped forward. Carefully, gently, he reached out and took Virgil’s hands, and though Virgil tensed at the contact, he didn’t pull away.

“Things are changing, Virgil,” he said softly. “We made them change. Queen Aliah is gone! And King Odin…” He thought back to his father’s almost-apology. “He’s finally seeing the truth. Just as I did.”

They were close, very close; Roman felt as though he could get lost in the depths of Virgil’s eyes. “Say what you will, but this isn’t goodbye. I can promise you that.”

Virgil held his gaze, soft pink spreading across his pale cheeks, and let out a soft breath. Time seemed to still — for a moment, nothing else mattered, nothing else existed besides Roman and Virgil and the space between them — and then Virgil let out a groan and averted his gaze, running a hand through his hair to hide his deeply reddened face.

“Ugh, you sap,” he groaned. “We couldn’t just have a normal goodbye, no, you had to go and make it stupid and heartfelt and… sweet…”

Roman laughed. “What can I say? I’m good at heartfelt moments.” A grin spread across his face and he raised his eyebrows. “Careful, Virgil, any redder and I won’t be able to tell the difference between your cloak and your face.

“Shut up,” Virgil hissed, swatting at him. “I’m not blushing, asshole, it’s just — it’s hot out.”

“Is it hot out, or is it just me?” Roman asked, his voice playfully wistful as he turned to gaze dramatically off towards the last dying rays of scarlet daylight. Virgil swatted at him again, growling.

“Fine!” he said. “This isn’t goodbye. Though if you keep being so annoying, it will be, got it?”

Roman’s grin became genuine, elated, and he relaxed, breathing a sigh of relief. This wasn’t goodbye. “I can’t make any promises,” he said, and Virgil rolled his eyes.”

“Anxiety! Your h — ah, Roman!” Thomas’ voice cut them off before their soft conversation could continue, and Roman’s grin shrank into a small, gentle smile.

“You ready?” he asked. Virgil shook his head, a tiny smile finding its way onto his face — and Roman realized with a jolt in his heart that this was the first time he’d ever seen Virgil truly smile, no hint of sarcasm of self-deprecation in sight. His heart skipped a beat; he was beautiful.

“Nah,” Virgil said quietly. “...let’s do it.”

The group waited for them back in the clearing, standing around a makeshift runic circle, drawn in purple ink on a pile of assorted scrap papers. As Talyn bemoaned the loss of their pen, which had tragically run out of ink, Thomas smiled and spread his arms wide.

“It’s a bit messy, but it should work,” he said. He’d scribbled runes across his hands and up his arms, and they glowed softly as they channeled his magic. “You two, stand in the center. Everyone else, stand back. This is going to be… interesting.”

“If you kill us, I’ll haunt you for the rest of your life,” Virgil grumbled as he stepped into the makeshift circle, the papers crunching beneath his feet. “Even if it’s an accident.”

“Well, I mean, I’ve never tried something like this before… but there’s no time like the present, right? Besides, I’m mostly sure you’ll be fine.” Thomas sat beside the circle, setting one hand in his lap, palm facing upwards, and the other atop the edge of the circle. It began to glow at his touch, colorful light swirling through the air, and little flames sparked to life around the edges.

Roman tensed as a strange feeling flooded through him, as though he’d been pumped full of electricity. The runic circle glowed brighter, sparks of magic dancing around them.

“Okay, when I finish the incantation, you two need to make some sort of contact, like… a high-five or something. Don’t stop until I say so!” Thomas glowed with his magic, shifting from red to green to purple in a dizzying rainbow as he began the spell.

Caught in a whirlwind of light and color, Roman’s eyes met Virgil’s. The outside world seemed to fade away, Thomas’ voice lost among the spell, and a silent conversation passed between the two in the span of a second — and suddenly, finally, Roman realized what the strange feeling was, what was causing his face to heat up and his heart to race, what he wanted more than anything else.

The magic around them swelled, and the electrical feeling grew. Suddenly, Roman felt the Bloodbond as he never had before: stronger, more insistent, tugging them closer. It filled every bone, every inch of his body, and they stepped towards each other as Thomas reached the end of his incantation.

“Now!” Thomas' voice sliced through the tornado around them — and they surged together, their lips meeting as the magic flared, a symphony of light and color to match the symphony swelling within them. Virgil’s fingers tangled through Roman’s hair; Roman tightened his hold around him as though afraid he’d disappear, because he couldn’t lose this, because this was right. Electricity flashed in curving arcs around them, within them, and they didn’t pull apart until well after the spell had ended and the tug of the Bloodbond had faded.

“Oh my — yas girl, get it!” Sleep was the first to respond, his hands cupped around his mouth as he cheered. Virgil tore his gaze from Roman and glared sharply.

“Shut it, Sleep,” he growled.

“You guys, I said like… a high-five,” Thomas said softly, eyes wide and disbelieving. Roman laughed.

“Go big or go home, am I right?”

“That was so fucking gay,” Joan said, clapping Roman on the back. Roman’s laughter grew.

“Well, duh. That was sort of the point.” Roman drew his arm from around Virgil and, after a moment’s hesitation, laced their fingers together. And god, his shy smile, the way pink spread across his pale face — it made the entire journey worth it just to get to this point.

“You two are like… modern day Romeo and Juliet. It’s cute,” Talyn remarked, pushing themself back to their feet and shoving their broken pen into their bag. Virgil scoffed.

“Nah, neither of us are idiots.” He paused, glancing at Roman. “You know what, nevermind, I take it back. This idiot would die if he wasn’t always doing something stupid.”

“Hey!” Roman gasped. “I thought we just had a bonding moment!”

“So?” Virgil smirked, one eyebrow raised. “Just because we love each other or some stupid shit like that doesn’t mean I can’t still make fun of you.”

“Aw, you love me?”

“Ugh,” Virgil groaned. “Shut up.”

As Thomas gathered the papers from the ground and the group began discussing how to get the humans home, Virgil and Roman drew away, following the base of the castle until they reached the front, until they could look down at the ruined kingdom spread beneath. The whole realm was about to change. Queen Aliah was dead, which meant…

“I guess this is mine now, huh?” Virgil leaned against the castle’s wall and slid down, sitting cross-legged.

“I suppose so.” Roman sat beside him, and felt as though his heart would burst when Virgil leaned into his side. “It’s rather ironic, don’t you think? All that time spent bashing princes, only to end up one.”

“Ugh. I still stand by what I said, princey. All princes are dumb.” He snorted. “That means I’ve been self-deprecating all this time? God, what a mood.”

“I’m almost offended,” Roman said, close to smiling. “Well, your highness? What are you going to do?”

“Ew. Don’t call me that.” He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I — shit, I don’t know. I can’t rule, I — I can barely take care of myself, let alone a whole kingdom. You should rule, you’re way better at being a stupid prince than I am.”

“Hey,” Roman chided softly, taking Virgil’s hand. “You may not think so, but you are a good leader. And a powerful mage. Though I hate to admit it, I… probably would have died on this journey if it weren't for you. You’re going to do wonderfully, my prince, and I am only a… a realm away if you’re ever in need of princely advice.”

That sent a pang through his heart. He hadn’t thought about it before, but it was true: they were going to be realms apart, constantly separated. When would they see each other again?

“A realm away? Ugh. That’s stupid,” Virgil mumbled. “I can’t… do this alone. I…”

He yanked a blade of ebony grass from beneath them and twirled it around his fingers, tapping his foot anxiously against the group. He seemed to consider something, eyebrows furrowing as he glanced first at Roman and then at the kingdom spread out beneath them.

“You… you know…” he began slowly, thoughtfully. “I could… use some help. A, y-you know, prince… consort or — or something.” The corner of his mouth twitched up into a momentary smirk. “So if you know of any really stupid, annoying princes who could help me out…”

“I don’t know about really stupid, annoying princes, but… I do know of one stupidly handsome, annoyingly wonderful prince who would be… happy to assist.” Their eyes met and Virgil blushed, twirling the blade of grass so quickly that it was surprising it didn’t break. “If you’ll have him, that is.”

“Yeah,” Virgil breathed, relieved. “Yeah, I’ll have him.”

He held Roman’s gaze for a moment longer and then got back to his feet and set his hands on his hips, surveying the kingdom beneath them. In the rusty-red near-darkness of night, free of the queen’s fear curse, it almost looked… beautiful.

“Well?” Virgil turned to him, looking positively radiant beneath the deep red sky. “You ready to rule this hellhole with me?”

Roman climbed to his feet, smiling as he joined Virgil on the hillside. He couldn’t imagine the changes that would follow that day; that, in the months to come, the demon realm would prosper, that under their rule, the demon and human realms would finally know peace. Everything had changed.

But right now, all Roman could imagine, all he could think about was Virgil — Virgil standing before him, Virgil bathed in soft red light, Virgil who he’d spend the rest of his future with.

Virgil, who he loved.

He took Virgil’s hands in his own, bringing their faces close. As he gazed into Virgil’s eyes, he knew — this was what he wanted. This was what he needed. This was it — his happily-ever-after. Standing in the shadow of their castle, overlooking their kingdom, he brought their foreheads together and let out a breath.

“I couldn’t be more ready,” he said, and brought their lips together once more.

#ts-storytime 2018 submission #roman sanders #virgil sanders #remy sanders #thomas sanders #ts talyn #ts joan #talyn #joan #sleep sanders #WOOOOO ITS DONE YEEEEEEEEEESSSSSSSSSSS #im sobbing the art i got was so GOOD and i got to meet so many talented fanders through this and im just. so thankful #i love u all sm

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sigurdjarlson · 7 years

Text

Replies! Woo! super late i know

highpriestessbriyanna said: This is always my reaction. Like “yes. keep talking. Wait.. did you just PUN at me again.. IMA KNIOCK THAT FUCKER OFF A CLIFF”

IM 99.9% sure someone has knocked khadgar off a cliff before and there’s an 80% chance it was because of a pun

owmyeyeballs said: You ok, friendbeast?

just tired and in a bit of a slump but i’ll be okay. thank you <3

owmyeyeballs said: Know that feel…

my poor girl! hasn’t she been through enough.. (*evil brain sounds*)

skullkind said: congrats!

Thank you!! It was the shitty demon hunter boots but it’s better than nothin!

lovesdaryl said: Feel better soon. *hugs*

thank you <3 *hugs*

skullkind said: me with illidan like once a week

same tbh

casterlycosplay said: Very relatable content

i wish i could say its the first time i’ve teared up while thinking about khadgar..but its not

apaladinfailure said: this is the most relatable thing you’ve ever posted

Khadgar..such a tearjerker huheuheuh he cries while he wanks

anzareveange said: im giving him all my love.

same. i want blizz to let me hug him so bad like PLEASE

skullkind said: hey !! im skull and ive been following you for a while and think youre super chill! i llove ur wow posting ! you dont need to follow back but i would love to chat sometime or stuff ^^

hello!!1 :D thank you for following. I’m glad you enjoy them. Feel free to contact me anytime! I’d love to chat

shadowphoenixrider said: Yeah, I remember her sneaking around the Twilight Highlands in Cata.

That sounds like her <3

ship-garbage-pile said: ^^ yeah she’s one of the quest givers order hall

I need to level my rogue..

lovesdaryl said: I might have mentioned this, but we went to ZG before it was patched out and I actually won the tiger and gave it to my husband as a gift. He looks magnificent on it. :-)

this is honestly the sweetest thing ever

anzareveange said: sleeping with the enemy…

Khadgar and Gul’dan have some serious unresolved sexual tension lbr

owmyeyeballs said: I love reading your responses to these. Thanks for putting up with my nonsense! XD

I love answering them <3

a-little-squirrely-sunshine said: My cat is named David Bowie, and depending on how I phrase things I get the best odd looks from my friends.

That’s great like i cna just imagine..DAVID BOWIE WHAT DO YOU HAVE IN YOUR MOUTH sdkgkdfh

owmyeyeballs said: These two just keep on breaking my heart…

they break mine too ugh. My poor babies

shadowphoenixrider said: I’d vote, but I like quite a few and I don’t think they’d all fit in this text box. I might…steal one idea though.

Steal as many as you’d like and I’d still love to hear which ones you think i should write!

doitsuki said: yes genn is lower in the hierarchy

he’s..the omega

ghoulghoulneighbor said: But they said no homo while they did it……….

blizzard could make a cinemeatic where khadgar and medivh have explicit sex and they’d still be like.. “no homo tho”

shadowphoenixrider said: Eggs-llecent idea, Archmage.

BLOCKED

anzareveange said: take all my dollars blizzard! hire him for the movie!

I won’t accept anyone else as old khadgar now. Someone get me into contact with George

owmyeyeballs said: i love them!!!!

My fierce saber queens <3

apaladinfailure said: omg that it so sweet im crying

i cried a lil while writing it so don’t feel bad hehheh

owmyeyeballs said: Oh dear lord, that was adorable and sad… someone protect these sweethearts!

protect Khadgar and Jaina 2k17

shadowphoenixrider said: Ow my heart! If you’ll excuse me, I’ll just lie down…right here…

i had to do the same after writing it tbh

owmyeyeballs said: Sweet, precious babies!

i just want to hold them both

shadowphoenixrider said: *chinhands* These are lovely, you know.

thank you so much!!

shadowphoenixrider said: I’m not quite sure my heart should be hurting this much in the morning, but it is!

Hohoho there’s a lot more where that came from!

ghoulghoulneighbor said: How dare u. This is some 10/10 pain, would cry again.

Same tbh. I made their parents and I was like shit..i love them

ghoulghoulneighbor said: I knew Illidan was the daddy kink type, I just knew it

YOU ARE NOT PREPARED...FOR ILLIDADDY’S DICK

ghoulghoulneighbor said: what have I started.

*points at medivh* Medaddy.

*points at Gul’dan* Gul’daddy

anzareveange said: Many races dont have orphans or child models. i want to see a tauren child, or a dwarf or a gnome child.

there are nightborne children models so blizz really doesn’t have an excuse anymore. I want children models for all the races, blizz. Give me this now

shadowphoenixrider said: I’d like to inform you that Khadgar is introduced in the book Tides of Darkness with a youngster in one arm and holding the hand of another. We don’t call him Dadgar for nothing! ^^

OH NO!!! This is so sweet I really need to read Tides of Darkness...and Beyond the Dark Portal

anzareveange said: “Put that thing back where it came from” no, it can be really painfull, also the mother is dead, so no.

maybe illidan doesn’t know where babies come from

ghoulghoulneighbor said: you’d think his hunters would be expecting this kind of thing by now tho

very true. new recruits learn very quickly not to stand behind Illidaddy. He’s very dramatic and very passionate. when he gets excited he can’t control his wings

shadowphoenixrider said: I’d like to add that if you put a pet bed down, it’ll attempt to ‘sit’ in it. Reduced my bf to wheezing laughter when he saw it.

FDHDfhd I KNOW ISN’T IT GREAT. You make him jump through the flaming hoop too.

It catches on fire sometimes and runs away...oops

shalar0s said: I’m dying over the “well that’s new.” Oh my god I can’t breathe.

nothing surprises Moroes anymore. Nothing.

unidentified-starman said: see, kids? this is what happens when you party (& clean up the library) too much

Ben!Khadgar? Before Medivh.

Game!Khadgar? After Medivh.

Medivh is a helluva drug

spicymulligan said: Boy howdy ur gonna LOVE Glee then

this is the worst thing you’ve ever said to me

ghoulghoulneighbor said: The ONLY way to treat your giant fuzzy murdercat

she loves her giant fuzzy murdercats <33

owmyeyeballs said: I want to hug Dilly too!

She needs a hug tbh

apaladinfailure said: this is entirely possible with genn greymane

SOMEONE DREW THAT!! I don’t know where it is but it was his wife riding on his back into battle

derp-mage said: It would have been glorious and now I’m mad he didn’t go full on worgen run

blizzard let us ride Malfurion in his regular form

WAIT NO

owmyeyeballs said: KHADGAR DO NOT FUCK THE SKULL

too late. he hurt himself rip

unidentified-starman said: it’ll look even more ridiculous when he appears in the warcraft movie sequel or smth (i hope it gets made sometime). he’ll probably be at least half cgi (or a man flapping his arms in a motion capture suit). look at cgi malfurion go

I am excited and dreading the day they add Malfurion to the films. Because he’s either going to look awesome or fuckin terribly hilarious (more likely tbh) and I can’t wait. (SHIT...motion capture behind the scene shit is so great)

shadowphoenixrider said: pffft that second one. AFAIK Khadgar asplodes everyone in Kilrogg’s vision, but I don’t think it’s Mythic difficulty? Could be wrong.

hmm i just did the Kilrogg fight on mythic on both Diily and Alaluria and didn’t get any visions. Is there something I have to do to trigger it? (i will cry)

ghoulghoulneighbor said: Your tag said wing burrito and I thought of a burrito stuffed with chicken wings, with the horns and blindfold. …I’ll see myself out.

*muffled sobbing from the bathroom* I was not prepared for these burritos..

shadowphoenixrider said: Don’t apologise, I love hearing these.

you’re an angel. thank you <3

carlyrosk said: That’s how I am too oh my god. That cinematic crushed both me and my Deathlord! I can’t wait to hear your thoughts on Genn! He’s been through SO much, and he’s just snapped with Varian’s death.

Genn’s reaction to Varian’s death in the cinematic kills me every time. Genn kills me. My poor old wolf man </3

#replies #carlyrosk #shadowphoenixrider #ghoulghoulneighbor #unidentified-starman #owmyeyeballs #derp-mage #apaladinfailure #anzareveange #shalar0s #doitsuki #a-little-squirrely-sunshine #ship-garbage-pile #lovesdaryl #skullkind #casterlycosplay #highpriestessbriyanna #the babe

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zacfaq · 7 years

Text

PLEASE DON’T SEND ME “PASS IT ON” MESSAGES !! as sweet as some of they are they can be really annoying. i don’t check my PMs here! if you need to get ahold of me either send me an ask, or email me.

apparently necessary reminder: google exists! i’m not a know-it-all source, honestly i shouldn’t even be your second plan after google unless it’s a question specifically based on me or something relating to me

i try to avoid fandom drama as much as possible and keep a generally positive space, so please don’t come and ask me about stuff like that. thanks.

if you want to commission me please send an email to [email protected]. do not email me through this address if your intentions are purely social and not work related

-what do you use to record and edit your speedpaints?

i use OBS to record, and edit in sony vegas

-what do you use to draw?

huion gt-191 and clip studio paint

-what are your pen settings?

just the default settings. all my custom stuff/things i’ve downloaded from CSP assets are just things i think look neat but probably never end up using.

-a blog called papersans is claiming to be you! are they a thief?

that’s literally me, i use it to archive my art so i can find stuff easier without having to hunt through my tag. also available for people who just want to see my art n not my other posts

-when is your birthday?

february 6th!

-what is your sexuality?

gay. i like men.

-how long does it take you to draw?

idk like. awhile? sometimes 45 minutes sometimes four hours sometimes a week.

-can i draw you/your ocs?

of course! pls show me after it would make me very happy !!!!!

-favourite band/singer/musician?

i don’t know a damn thing about myself here’s a spotify playlist

https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0Zk5o5g7nMnGt0vrJVEcDq?si=7cd248a0b64046ee

-will you do art for cheap/free?

nah. art is currently the only job/income i have, if ur interested in commissioning me you can either find my prices on like, any of my pages, but if not ur more than welcome to email me @ [email protected] and i can give you prices there !! -(venting or something involving abuse, suicidal thoughts, self harm, bullying, eating disorders, or other similar things in real life situations. even in fiction i’m iffy.)

i hate to sound rude or not be of help, but please don’t send these messages to me. they send me into horrible anxiety for several personal reasons. if you’re having such negative thoughts i implore you to speak to someone you trust without an anonymous mask, or do your best to seek help from a professional. i have my own things to worry about and as much as i’d like to help, i simply can’t.

-(asking for advice that isn’t related to art)

i would love to help but i’m not an ~all knowing source~. i can’t give you tips for school. i can’t give you tips for life. not only will i probably not know a solution for you but there’s likely a chance i’m in just as bad a situation as you/going through the same problem, as silent as i am about my personal life. also don’t use ‘asking for advice’ as an excuse to vent about things or to send me a paragraph describing in depth something listed above/that’s potentially triggering. thank you.

even if you’re looking fr art tips i’m not a great source i’m still learning, ur best bet is looking for already existing sources and reading through those bc i don’t preach the word of Art God. i’m also awful at explaining things

-why didn’t you answer my ask?

Main reason is i’m just really really bad at socializing, so it’s not anything on u. i’m almost always low on energy and when i do talk to people it wears me out really quick. i’m also just. not gr8 at talking in general so if i can’t think of a reply i tend to just leave things n then end up forgetting about them

-how do you draw [blank]?

honestly my art style is such a fucked up thing that’s so personalized to my own use i can’t do or make tutorials. the best i can do is direct you to my youtube.

-can we do an art trade?

sorry, i’ll have to say no. i’m not necessarily busy but i get stressed very easily, so i try to keep my art to either personal stuff or work ! if you would like art from me, please considering commissioning me! mutuals and friends may be the exceptions here if they catch me at a good time or we make plans well ahead to do smth when we’re both free to work on stuff

-can we be friends?

please don’t ask this. i’m awful enough at socialization as is and i just don’t fit well with most personality types. not to mention this is just overall a bad question. it backs the person being asked into a corner where they either have to say “yes” and end up in a friendship that actually isn’t working out and is maybe only good for one side bc they’re getting any and all of the benefits, and if they say “no” they look like a total dick bag and come across as an ass. don’t ask this question. it’s not how socializing works. it’s not how friendships work. thanks. -can you tag [blank]? unfortunately i’ve been a real bad place in terms of memory so i can’t tag tons and tons of things. i try and tag more general/basic things but i’m sorry i’ll have to pass on specifics. if i post or reblog things that trigger u or harm you it might be best to unfollow for ur own safety!! very sorry

if it’s specific words you’d like tagged please consider blacklisting the word itself.

-how tall are you?

i’m 5'11".

-can you promo me?

i’d rather not, doesn’t sit well with me. if you have a commission post you want me to reblog i’m happy to! but i won’t just do text based handouts, y’know? not a fan of being used for visibility for no reason, and chances are if i do it for one person it’ll happen with hundreds of others and i don’t want my blog to turn into a free advertisement zone that just floods peoples’ feeds with promotions.

-you reblogged something from someone extremely problematic/unsafe

thank you for letting me know! tell me what it is they did, even better offer proof on it. i’ll likely delete the post and blacklist their url to hopefully prevent their name popping up on my blog in the future. i won’t publish these asks mostly to avoid discourse or in the event false information is provided. sorta just safety precaution i guess

-you’ve done something bad

again, thank you for letting me know! if i post or say something questionable please feel free to message me and i’ll try my best to address the issue and adjust accordingly. i’m aiming to grow as a person so critique is welcome, both on me and my artwork. don’t just come up and call me an asshole or a prick or something, actually point out the errors and explain why they’re wrong so i can better understand and it doesn’t just turn into a defensive round of who’s worse, because i tend to be a very defensive person.

-i think someone is stealing/reposting your art!

thank you very much for telling me! don’t message them right off the bat, come to me first and i will deal with it. i’ve dealt with this shit tons of times and it’s tiring as fuck but i’d rather repeat the same stupid civil message over and over again than start a giant calamity over something and end up with someone getting hurt. if you do get involved please stay polite about it don’t throw insults just a simple “hey this art was done by princeofmints/tv-headache/zachary jack/dirtypip/(etc my other account names) and he doesn’t want his art reposted, please take this down or add proper credit.”

-can i use your art as an icon?

sure man. only on places like instagram, tumblr, or twitter though, and proper credit in an easy to see place must be given. if a piece of art is of my ocs or especially vent art though never use it for icons. thank you.

-can i repost your art?

the answer is “no” but i know you’re going to do it anyways. easy to see credit is mandatory. if you see somebody reposting my art please let me know and i’ll talk to them. if you want to use my art in things like image edits, i don’t allow that. want to use my art in a video? if it’s something like an AMV sure fine just credit me and inform me beforehand, if it’s something like a cringe/comparison video. no. i don’t want any association with work like that whatsoever. you may not use my artwork for fanfic covers.

-can i colour/finish one of your sketches?

no. even if you don’t intend on posting it.

-what is [insert some form of media/fandom]

https://www.google.ca/

-why do you have an entirely separate blog for your FAQ? you know you can make blog pages, right?

i’m well aware of that and originally my faq WAS set up on a blog page, but unfortunately many folks proved to be either lazy or just couldn’t figure out how to get to a blog page on mobile so i had to set it up this way for accessibility purposes.

-tons of your videos are gone, what happened to them? will they come back? can you repost them?

i set old videos on private for my own sake, i don’t like having my old content available bc it just looks old and stale and i don’t like it. there’s nothing deep about it, i just don’t want people interacting with my old stuff. as deep is it gets is i just deleted videos related to fandoms i’m sick of bc the association is fuckin annoying. these videos will not come back into public. i do keep them posted for my own reflection sake, but that’s it. don’t ask me to bring them back. don’t whine about me not putting shit back out just bc ur a little sad n gonna cry. guilting people is gross, reevaluate yourself.

if you want a song from an old video, just ask me! I’ll happily let you know what the music is in case u liked ‘em and can’t remember the titles or artists. i’ve also got a playlist full of the music i listen to so u can comb through there n see if the songs u want are there

#prince peeps

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