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sinkovia · 4 months

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Regretful bets

Simon Riley x Fem!Reader

Fluff with light angst

You gaze at the picture of your late parents, a bittersweet reminder of how far you've come. It's been alittle over a year since you joined the task force, and you can't help but feel a sense of pride wash over you. Although you didn't have your family anymore, you'd found a new one within the task force. In the rec room, a small celebration was underway, the team reveling in the success of their recent mission.

The guys decided to buy some drinks and engage in a game of pool. You sat on the couch, focused on some paperwork when Ghost took a seat next to you and handed you a drink.

"Supposed to be celebrating, love, not buried in paperwork," his words and close proximity making your heart flutter. You've held an interest in Ghost since you joined the task force, but you never tried to pursue it, believing he wasn't the type for relationships.

"I know, I just wanted to finish up, get it out of the way. These reports for the last mission have been kicking my ass." You took a sip of your drink.

"I can help you with it if you'd like."

You hesitated, surprised by his offer. "Oh no, it's okay. I know you have your own report to do."

Ghost leaned a bit closer to you, "I've already finished mine. I can teach you a thing or two about getting them done faster."

"Really? I mean, yeah, I'd appreciate that."

"Maybe we can meet over dinner?"

Your mind raced as you processed his words. Was this a friendly gesture or something more? "These files can't leave the base," you reminded him.

"Right, I forgot. Well, we can get dinner and then work on the report after. How does that sound, love?"

Your face heated up, and you stammered out a response, "That sounds good."

"It's a date then. I'll come get you tomorrow at 8." Ghost got up and left the rec room, leaving you in a state of utter disbelief. You rushed to your room and squeezed your pillow, excitement and anticipation swirling inside you.

Ghost took you to a cozy restaurant in town, and over dinner, you discovered his love for telling awful puns. Surprisingly, you found them funny, and the lighthearted atmosphere made the evening even more enjoyable. After your meal, you pulled him to a small traveling carnival nearby where you both played games and he won you a few plushies. As you made your way back to the base, you stood in front of your door.

"We never got to the report," you mentioned with a laugh.

"Maybe we can do them after lunch tomorrow?" Ghost was leaning against the doorframe, he was close, his arm casually resting on the frame above you. You smile as your eyes met his. Breath caught when he lifted his balaclava, leaning in to plant a sweet, soft kiss on your lips, his smile lingering as he pulled away.

"How does that sound, love?"

You smiled as you turned around to unlock your door, looking back for a moment. "I'll see you tomorrow at 4," you said, noticing the wide smile on his face before closing the door, leaving you to get ready for bed. You lay there, smiling, thinking about how sweet he was, nothing like you'd initially imagined. A week later, Ghost officially asked you out, and you had been dating since. A month in a half passed and you couldn't be happier.

You often stayed up late with him, soothing his insomnia, running your fingers through his hair until he fell asleep, making tea for him in the mornings. Many nights, you'd stay up together, talking until you saw the sunrise. You were always there for him. You were walking to price's office when you saw graves walking out of it. He smiled as he approached you.

"Sargeant I was just looking for you." you furrowed your brows a bit in confusion, why would graves be looking for you.

"Is everything okay sir?"

"Price tells me that you're one of his best shots with a sniper."

You blushed slightly, proud of Price's words. "He flatters me," a smile gracing your face.

Graves was quick to get to the point, "I want you to join my Shadow Company."

Your smile faded, and you hesitated, "What? I mean thank you for the offer sir but I can't. I'm part of 141. This is my home. I've built a family here."

Graves looked disappointed but still gave you a nod, placing his hand on your shoulder. "Well, the offer is still open if you change your mind. We leave tomorrow morning."

You and ghost just slept together for the first time since you started dating. You lay on his chest, tracing small circles on his chest while he combed his fingers through your hair. Your stomach grumbled, and you shifted your head to look at Ghost, who appeared lost in thought, staring at the ceiling.

"Hey, are you okay?"

Ghost's eyes met yours as he kissed your forehead. "I'm okay love, just hungry."

"Me too. Want to get some takeout for us?"

"Yeah, let me get dressed."

You grabbed one of Ghost's shirts, throwing it on as you watched him get dressed. He gave you a kiss before heading out. Your eyes go to his wallet on your night stand and you throw on a pair of sweats before running after him. Ghost was walking down the hallway when he bumped into Soap.

"Listen Johnny, about the bet-" Soap laughed, handing over the money from his wallet.

"Bloodly hell Ghost, you finally slept with her? You were cutting it close. You had a week left." Soap was still laughing when he glanced behind Ghost and cursed under his breath, quickly walking away. Ghost slowly turned around and furrowed his brows when he saw you.

"Fuck, Y/n, it's not what you think,"

"You were only with me for a bet?" Tears welled in your eyes as you looked up at him.

"Love, please let me explain." He took a step closer, but you stepped back.

"Don't call me that. Just answer the fucking question." Your voice trembled with anger and disbelief.

Ghost's eyes were desperate as he tried to explain, "No– I mean, yes, Johnny bet me 200 if I could sleep with you within two months, but I swear to you that—"

"200 dollars? That's what I was worth? Everything I did for you was worth throwing it all away for 200 dollars?" You threw his wallet at his chest.

"Y/n please, I love—"

"I hate you." Tears streamed down your face as you turned away. Ghost reached out to grab your hand, attempting to stop you from walking away.

"Don't fucking touch me. I don't ever want to see you again."

You walked away, and Ghost stood there, watching your retreating figure until you disappeared around the corner. His gaze fell to his wallet on the floor, and a polaroid of you two together slipped out. He picked it up, looking at your face, you were both in the middle of laughing when price had taken the picture. The realization of his mistake hit him like a truck.

"Fuck."

You began packing you things, throwing them all in your duffle bag. You picked up the small seal plushy that ghost had won for you on your first date. You leave it on the bed with all of the pictures you had of him next to it. You walk down the hallway and make your way over to graves temporary office. You gently knock before opening the door. You see him gathering some papes and his gaze meets yours. He sees the puffiness in your eyes.

"Is everything okay Y/n?"

"If your offer is still open I would like to join your company." Graves is thrown off by your eagerness as earlier today you had told him you couldnt. He didnt question it, he smiled and handed you patch.

"We leave in an hour." you nod and walk out of his office.

The weight of regret bore down on Ghost, a heavy burden he couldn't shake as he thought back on the time you had spent together. Somewhere along the line he stopped pretending. Somewhere along the line he had fallen in love with you. He should have told Soap the deal was off a long time ago, he should have never taken the bet in the first place. He made a promise to himself to talk to you tomorrow; he didn't want to approach you while you were still so angry.

But that night was sleepless for Ghost. The absence of your presence in his bed left it feeling colder...emptier. When morning arrived, he mustered the courage to approach your door, knocking gently. No answer. He knocked again, and still, you didn't respond. He called out your name, pleading, but the silence was deafening.

Concern gnawed at his insides and slowly he twisted the doorknob. His heart sank as the door opened fully, revealing your empty room. His eyes fell upon the plushie and polaroids on your bed.

No. No, no, no. He refused to believe you were gone.

Panicking, he rushed into Price's office without knocking. Price’s brows furrow in confusion as Ghost asked, "Where is she?"

"She didn't tell you? She joined Graves' shadow company. She left with them this morning."

Ghost slumped on Price's couch, feeling like his heart had been torn out. You had left the task force, the place you had worked so hard to be a part of, all because of him. Regret and guilt washed over him as he realized the enormity of his mistake. You made him happy, and you both could have had a happy life together. He sat there, wondering what might have been if he had only made different choices.

Two years later...

You were inside alejandros base when you heard graves yelling and gun shots in the garage. You made your way out and froze in your tracks when you saw Graves zip tying alejandros hands together.

What the fuck is happening?

A bullet whizzed past your face, grazing your cheek, leaving a stinging sensation in its wake. You turned to see Ghost pointing a gun at you from behind a vehicle. Time seemed to slow as your eyes locked onto his, a mix of surprise and recognition in his gaze. His eyes grew wide as they trailed over your face. For a moment, you both remained frozen in place. But before either of you could react, two shadows tackled Ghost, ziptying his hands behind his back. Your eyes never left him as they dragged him and Alejandro into the base

What. The. Fuck.

You walk up to Graves as he's calling for his men to chase after soap who ran away.

"Whats happening?" He smiled patting your shoulder.

"It's nothing, go back inside and make sure our shadows get them to their cells."

You turned around quickly walking towards Alejandro's cell block, you didn't know why graves betrayed the 141. You had just been working with them.

You had asked Graves if he could put you on comms as you didnt want to see them in person. Thankfully you never had to directly talk to Ghost. Two years had passed but the ache was still as present as ever. You watched as they threw Ghost into the cell, shutting it behind him. He was being treated in a manner that should have left you feeling satisfied, but instead, a sense of unease gnawed at you. You couldn't help but be bothered by the way they threw him in the cell. As the days passed, you found yourself unable to resist the urge to walk by his cell, day after day, a silent presence in his world.

What the hell were you doing?

You walked past his cell door when you heard Ghosts voice from the other side.

"Y/n."

You froze in your tracks, how the hell did he know it was you. The doors didn't have windows.

"How did you know?" there was a long pause before he spoke.

"I know the sound of your walk."

Your feet seemed to move of their own accord, taking you to the front of his door. Without a second thought, you unlocked it and stepped inside, closing the door behind you. His eyes were on you as you entered, and in those moments, you felt an overwhelming sense of longing. You tried your best to maintain a cold demeanor, but your eyes, you knew, were betraying you. In those lingering gazes, you both shared a deep longing, a silent acknowledgment of the feelings that still lingered between you.

"You're so beautiful."

"Did soap bet you 20 to say that?" his eyes went from yours to the ground as the words left your lips.

"Y/n I'm so sorry for what I did to you. I should have never taken the bet. You didn't deserve that."

"You broke my heart Ghost," your voice quivering with the weight of your emotions. "I...I loved you so much, and you didn't even care about me."

Ghost's eyes widen, and he stands up, walking toward you. You instinctively take a step back, and soon, you're backed up against the cell door. He reaches out and cups your face, his taller frame towering over you. You meet his intense gaze with tears in your eyes.

"I loved you so much, I still do," he confesses. Tears streaming down your face, your heartache and longing were laid bare for him to see.

"Liar." You choked out.

Ghost's voice wavered as he tried to explain, "I promise you, after I asked you out, I started to fall for you. I loved you, y/n, with my whole heart. My life was so dull, and I've suffered every day without you by my side since you left. My biggest regret was not telling Soap that the deal was off." You looked up at him, shaking your head as tears continued to fall. His words were filled with regret.

"Ever since you left, the only thing I could think about was the life that we could have had together. The life that slipped away because I was stupid." You buried your face in his chest, overwhelmed with emotion, as you sobbed in his arms. He held you tight, his hand running through your hair.

"I'm so sorry, love," he whispered, his voice heavy with regret.

You pushed your head back slightly to meet his eyes, your own voice trembling with emotion. Not even five minutes with him after two years being apart and you already caved into him.

"Promise me, Promise me that you'll spend the rest of your life making it up to me, and i'll get you out of here."

"Only if you promise to come with me." your brows furrowed and you opened your mouth but ghost cut you off.

"We can fake our deaths, we can get far away from all of this. I dont want to be in a line of work that could easily take you away from me. Two years was hard enough, I couldn't imagine a lifetime without you."

As his words sank in, your mind raced to comprehend his proposal. Ghost wanted to build a life with you, away from the world of shadow companies, the 141, and the constant danger of missions. It was a vision of a peaceful and quiet life, just the two of you in a tranquil home somewhere far away from the chaos you had known. A warm, heartfelt smile spread across your face, and without hesitation, you agreed.

"Okay."

You snuck him out of his cell and made your way over to alejandros, taking out a few shadows along the way. Alejandro nearly smashed your head into the wall but Ghost was quick to let him know that you were helping them escape. Together, you successfully made your way out of the base. Alejandro took the lead, guiding you along the safest route. Finally, you reached a safehouse, and he was about to call Rudy, when ghost stopped him fom making the call.

"We aren't going back." Alejandro looked at him a bit confused, his brows furrowing.

"What do you mean you're not going back?"

"When you see Price again, tell him we were K.I.A trying to get you out," The words hung in the air for a moment, and Alejandro's gaze shifted from Ghost to yours, where he noticed your radiant smile. It became clear to him what was happening, and he nodded in understanding, a smile forming on his own face.

"You can take one of my cars if you need it, I wish the both of you well and thank you for everything you have done for me." Ghost shook Alejandro's hand, and then he took yours, leading you toward his garage.

6 years later...

"Hey! Don't run with a fork; you're going to hurt yourself!" you call out to your 4-year-old child as he dashes around with the utensil. With your 1-year-old in your arms, you watch as Simon swoops in, lifting your 4-year-old off the ground and taking the fork away. You breathe a sigh of relief and smile as you see Simon playfully wrestle with him on the couch.

The both of you have come a long way in the six years since you both ran away and started a life together. Every day you thank yourself for going inside Simon's cell, as your heart swells with happiness at the beautiful family you've built together. He walks over taking the baby from your arms and lifting her up as she laughs. You smile as you watch his radiant smile as he looks up at his daughter. He cradles her in his arms as he leans down and kisses you.

"I love you." He says, and a wide smile graces your features.

"Did soap bet you to say that?."

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evadingreallife · 1 year

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(yes im coming for yall)

#polls #the art of making polls to poll #hyperspecific poll #tea #best tea #jasmine green tea my most beloved #green tea #black tea #yes ik that black tea=red tea but ehhh english is what we have #rooibos #jasmine tea #IROH I HEAR YOU #and ur so right #actually i never understood if iroh meant jasmine green tea pr just jasmine herbal tea tbh #bc green tea is supposed to be caffeinated so how could it be calming #but i love it anyway so who cares #white tea #pu'er tea #bubble tea #yes im coming for yall bubble tea lovers i literally cannot i hate hate hate them tapioca bubbles #now if we're going further and having some red beans or those weird pudding cubes in our bubble tea then i could maybe accept it #they're nice #but tapioca pearls are just no #once i had some weird milk coffee chocolate frankeinstein drink with barley grains and red beans inside and that was So Good #but i never found it anywhere else #also early grey? dont like it #and fruit flavored tea is just a big no no for me #i can see how it would be appealing #but not to me #thats sad bc i could have said many things ab being ykno fruity

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vesper-tinus · 1 year

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begs you for more simon content, but maybe where he tortures his girlfriend with his awful dad jokes? xd idk if they qualify as dad jokes they are kinda dark 💀 the dog one haunts me

Hello! I'd be happy to!

Unfortunately, I am nowhere near as hilarious as Simon and Co., but I wrote my favourite pun, and hopefully that will be sufficient!

𝐄𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐲 𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐏𝐮𝐧𝐬. Simon "Ghost" Riley x Female ! Reader

Summary: Waking up in the morning, you are faced with the consequences of having the King of Jokes in your home. Requested by anonymous—thank you very much for the interest! I hope it lives up to your expectations! Keywords: Established relationship—married, female ! reader, though only mentioned once in spouse-title (Mrs), a pun(?), romantic fluff. Wordcount: 1062

You wake up in your spacious bed. Alone, but with a light heart knowing that Simon is not far. Not only is he a light-sleeper, but also an early-riser, and part of you wonders if it's genuine, or something that has been learned. Drilled into him from years of military duty.

Though sometimes—most of the time—he remains next to you until you wake up.

He would never confess to it, but he enjoys watching you. Peacefully sleeping. Safe. A content expression on your resting face. He takes in every detail of you. From the fluttering of your lashes to the faint wrinkles beneath your eyes. The lovebites he left on your skin; the sleep lines the linen also left, and he smiles to himself at how lovely you are. How human it all is. How domestic.

Those quiet moments to himself are what grounds him. Most mornings he struggles to keep his hands from caressing your face, lest he risks waking you.

But on this particular morning, he is not beside you. So you abandoned the cosiness and warmth of your bed, course set, leisure-wear on, as you leave to find your husband.

You tiredly stretch your arms as you venture towards the kitchen of your shared home, yawning as you go. The house is peacefully quiet, but a different kind of quiet. It's silent, yes, but the closer to the kitchen you get, you hear stifled sounds of what makes home a home. The idle stirring of a spoon, the crinkling of a newspaper. The sounds of life. The sounds of living. The sounds of Simon.

Home is said to be where the heart is, and Simon is yours. Heart and home.

“Mornin’, love.” Simon’s voice is peaceful in the morning, but with a hoarseness to it that reminds you of how hard he worked you last night. Your legs certainly remember. “How’d you sleep?” he asks, looking towards you; hand outstretched for you to take. Inviting you into his space.

“Good,” you respond, coming to stand beside him, hand in hand. You lean down to press a kiss to his temple, and you feel Simon gently rotate the wedding band around your finger; you suppress a slight shiver feeling the engravings upon it. “Yours?”

“Perfect,” he hums contently, turning his head to press a kiss to your throat. “Kept the kettle on for you,” he murmurs softly against your skin, and you have to suppress another shiver.

“No breakfast?” you ask.

“Thought we could eat together.”

“Clever boy.” And for that comment, you are rewarded with a squeeze of your rear, his palm hot against your skin. A pleasant laugh escapes you as you wiggle out of his grasp to assess the breakfast situation, leaving your husband to his paper.

You hadn’t expected him to be a newspaper sort of man, but you’ve enjoyed learning all those little things about him. There’s always that feeling of pride in your heart of knowing that he lets you see those parts of him. That he is comfortable enough to share himself with you.

Simon absentmindedly stirs the spoon in his mug of tea as he listens to you working the kitchen. Slow and methodically, just like his mind. His lips slip into a secretive smile, partially hidden behind the newspaper. He steals glances at you between boring articles, his eyes often falling to your hands and how skillful you are with them. Both in and outside the bedroom.

You consider turning on the radio for some static, but decide against it. There is something blissful about the shared silence. How comfortable you both feel saying nothing, yet exchanging glances that speaks volumes.

The silence is only broken when Simon’s voice disturbs it.

“Some American celebrity died. An actress. Decently young, too.”

“Another one?” you call over your shoulder, shutting the fridge door with your hip, milk in hand. “I feel like everyone is dropping like flies these days… What's her name?”

Simon shrugs, feigning ignorance as he flips another delicate page of the newspaper. “Reese something-or-other,” he offers with another noncommittal shrug.

“Witherspoon?!” She was so good in Legally Blonde!

“No, with a knife.”

…

….

…..

The silence that follows is deafening as you turn to look at your husband.

Your husband who is looking much too smug for your liking. Smiling like a cat that had cream for supper.

You stalk towards him, the carton of milk discarded on the kitchen counter. Breakfast officially on hold.

“Simon”—you grab his chin with little strength, tilting his head back as you lean forward—”that was awful.'' It’s difficult to resist the instinct to laugh as your husband hooks his arm around your waist, feeling no remorse for your predicament. Gentle fingers resting on the dip of your hip bone—comforting, securely. You practically melt against him, it’s difficult not to. Some of your previous disgruntlement and tiredness dissipating with each gentle rub of his fingers.

Unfortunately, it’s all a clever ploy to lull you into a false sense of security, and once he knows he has you, he strikes.

Taken by surprise, you’re easily pulled forward. The drowsiness of a lazy morning having left you light on your feet. Simon managed to manoeuvre you into his lap. Your back to his chest as his muscular arms circle around to cage you against him. Newspaper discarded on the table.

“You’re a real piece of work, Riley,” you grumble with mock-annoyance, your eyes narrowing. The joke itself was fine, hilarious even, but the fact that you (literally) fell for it? There’s no coming back for that, and Simon is the kind of man who will hang it over your head.

“Me-Riley, or You-Riley, ‘cause if I’m not mistaken,” he says, “which I’m not. You took my surname, Mrs. Riley.”

“Fuck you,” you huff, cheeks warming at the flirtatious tone.

Simon has the gall to chuckle at you. You feel the vibrations coming from his chest against your back, and it makes your heart flutter beneath your ribcage. How easily you fall for his wiles, it’s almost unfair, but somehow, you cannot find it in yourself to be anything but grateful.

So you chalk it up as a win for him, and let yourself lean against him. Laughing as you replay the pun in your mind, and Simon has never heard a more beautiful sound.

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beelsbignaturals · 10 months

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What is the perfect birthday gift MC can give to the brothers, in your opinion?

🎂 BIRTHDAY DEMONS🎉

Lucifer hates surprises. Probably because anytime someone "surprises" him, it's almost always his brothers fucking shit up catastrophically. But… he does have a soft spot for you. If you are insisting on surprising him with something nice for his birthday just… promise you won't give him more gray hair, okay? Honestly, just keep it simple. Get the other six out of the house, set up a cute candlelit dinner, grab some demonus and you are all set! If you really want to go all out, that coveted factory tour to top it all off would be very much appreciated.

As much as Mammon would be so down to be a sugar baby… he really doesn't want you to spend your life's savings just to get him a gift. I mean, if it's from you, it's worth more than its weight in gold in his eyes. I think Mammon is the type to keep absolutely everything you give him. Tickets from when you went to the movies, a rock you found that you claim matches his eyes, one of those weird spider rings from an arcade. You get the point. He is absolutely whipped. So yeah, something nice would be cool. But he would treasure a handmade card or jewelry just as much, if not more. Simply because it's from you.

I think Leviathan would really appreciate something that ties in to one of his interests but isn't super obvious. Like, of course, everyone gets him Ruri Chan or TSL merch. But something from an anime he showed you once or twice means a lot to him but doesn't have a huge fan base? Levi would cry. Because it means you really do listen to his endless rambles. It's more about the fact you care, that you don't tune him out, rather than what the gift itself is.

Take Satan to a used bookstore. You can hold hands while walking through a maze of dubiously organized bookshelves, your pinkies linked together while you browse. Let the fourth born pick out a new book or two. If you want to be extra as hell (pun intended), go the extra mile and get him a cat plushie. Preferably with a green bow wrapped around its neck. It's a guarantee that you will soon find Satan and Catan curled up with a book and some tea. He won't let anyone else know it, but Catan is his most prized possession now.

Asmodeus would absolutely love something romantic. Maybe a simple locket. Heart-shaped and rose gold with a picture of the two of you inside. Preferably a photo where you guys look goofy. Perhaps from one of your spa nights, when you were covered in homemade face masks (that Beel had taste tested…) Or, if you want to go old school, a lock of your hair instead. Something that shows the love you feel for him, as opposed to lust.

This is 100% inspired by the Devilgram where Beelzebub teaches you how to snowboard, but.. I honestly think Beel would be the type of person who prefers an experience over a physical gift. And I'm sure the Devildom has some sort of magic ski resort that is always snowy. So why not spend a day snowboarding with Beel?! You can hit the slopes early and then grab some hot chocolate together, sitting inside by a fire until you can feel your fingers again. End the day with an impromptu snowball fight that leaves you breathless, the cold air stinging your lungs as you both collapse on the ground laughing.

I think Belphegor would appreciate something like one of those paintings of what the night sky looked like on an important date. Like maybe your birthday, or the day you first climbed the stairs to the attic, or your first date. Something like that. A gorgeous watercolor background with an exact chart of what the night sky looked like that day, a moment frozen in time. He would keep it right near his bed so it's the first thing he sees every morning. It makes getting up less awful.

#om! shall we date #obey me #obey me mc #obey me x reader #shrimp writes #obey me fanfic #obey me lucifer x reader #obey me mammon x reader #obey me levi x reader #obey me satan x reader #obey me asmo x reader #obey me beel x reader #obey me belphie x reader #obey me headcanons #request

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yanmusing · 13 days

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yan!fem!barista x fem! Reader Headcanons

A/n: this one goes out to my LESBIANS SHOUTOUT TO THE LESBIANS. THE LESBIANS. /REF

Also not proofread so please ignore any mistakes LOL

Minors DNI

TWs: general yandere behavior and nasty thoughts ◇

♡Yan!fem! Barista deals with rude and stupid people all the time. But life had a way of testing her patience.

♡"I want the Daisy's teacakes & coffee with no small cakes, and replace the coffee with green tea."

♡"Ma'am, the desserts come with the order."

♡"You think I'm stupid? I know, that's why I ordered it without the desserts."

♡Yeah. You are a fucking dumbass.

♡"No ma'am, I will get your order for you in a bit, thank you for your patience!"

♡Alright. I can get through this. It's like 9:00 am right now.

♡After dealing with the customer, she hears the little ring from the door

♡She doesn't think much of it

♡Ohhh but she should have

♡That's when she hears a giggle coming from your table

♡Oh...

♡Oh my...

♡Your table is littered with open textbooks and an untouched laptop. You're sitting with your back turned to her, but she catches a small glimpse of your face with you turn to the side.

♡Focus on the coffee. Just focus on the coffee. LOOK at the cup. It's empty- Just don't be nosy. Just be normal. She's just here for some nice Cafe vibes!! That's all!!!

♡AHH but you're so pretty jffjsfjfjskdhfjja

♡"Excuse me, Miss?"

♡Good GOD you can't just sneak up on people like that!!! It's totally not because she was distracted by her thoughts

♡"Yes, how can I help you?"

♡She stops what she's doing. She turns. She looks at you. Really looks at you.

♡Your nose, eyes, soft smile?

♡It's too much for her. You're just too cute.

♡Meanwhile, you were struggling on whether to ask for one or two chocolate croissants. Would it look greedy if you ordered two?...

♡"I'll have a chocolate croissant and a latte, please."

♡Yes, say please again. She loved that.

♡"Of course. Anything else I can get you?"

♡"Uhm... actually, can you please make that two chocolate croissants? That's all."

♡"Absolutely! I'll have that ready as soon as I can."

♡Aw man she pours her heart and SOUL into making the best latte for you!(no pun intended)

♡She picks out the biggest croissants; hopefully you've had breakfast. Oh, what if this is your first meal of the day?

♡Sure enough, when you walk up to get your order, your stomach growls. And you feel embarrassed.

♡"I'm so sorry, I haven't had anything to eat yet!" You try to awkwardly laugh it off.

♡"Oh no, it's okay sweetheart! Do you want a breakfast sandwhich with your order?"

♡You can't help it. Your face flushes a shade of red and your hand goes up to fidget with your necklace.

♡"I'm not sure..."

♡You poor thing... do you need someone to take care of you? Do you need some love? Do you need her?

♡Yeah. You definitely do.

♡"It's on the house, it's okay I promise!"

♡You cave in and let her buy it for you. I mean, it's not like you could just refuse something nice like this! Plus, she seemed really concerned for you. Genuinely.

♡"Ah, thank you so much!"

♡"it's no problem, I'll have it ready for you in a bit."

♡Look at you, so kind and respectful. So mild and sensitive, too. Initially, she pushed away the thoughts of your flustered face from her mind. But she has a soft spot for the emotional ladies. You're so adorable and lovely. She needs to have you underneath her.

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A/n: thanks for reading! Will make a part 2 :)

#yandere wlw #yandere lesbian #fem yandere #yandere barista #yandere woman

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katsu28 · 9 months

Note

Hi!! May I request a Roy Kent x Fem!reader with the Alstroemeria prompt as well as the “saying I love you in between kisses” from the physical intimacy prompts? Please & thank you!! 🤗

thank you so much for requesting and for allowing me my first attempt at writing roy! <3

alstroemeria: going to an event that the other person is interested in just to see them happy + saying i love you in between kisses, roy kent x fem!reader, swearing ofc (it's roy, what did we expect), 1.2k

Roy Kent had never looked as out of place somewhere as he did right now. Broad and tall, covered head to toe in black leather and denim, scowling at the world around him like he’d been personally wronged by it, he proved a stark contrast to the quaint little farmers’ market you'd dragged him to.

The market itself had been popping up near your place every weekend and you’d been hinting at wanting to go with Roy, but he never wanted to. Going by yourself was always a choice, but there was something about roaming the cobbled streets browsing for fruits and veggies and other cute trinkets with your lovely (albeit perpetually grumpy) boyfriend that just seemed so…domestic.

You’d recently moved in together and this was the perfect way to jumpstart your lives with each other. Maybe you’d get some fun knick knacks for your shelves, or a painting for your walls.

He’d said no to going the first few times, but once he caught sight of your sad little frown he caved instantly, promising the two of you would go this coming Saturday. That was today, and you were beyond excited.

You made sure to get there early so you could have the best pick of everything, and to avoid the crowd—another reason you suspected Roy kept turning down your invitations. He was a private guy, so purposely going someplace where he would be recognized almost immediately wasn’t really his cup of tea. Most Richmond fans were fine, but with social media nowadays, some always meant more, and more often than not that always led to the two of you being swarmed and having to go home before you could do whatever you’d left the house for.

But until that happened, you could just enjoy this time you had with your boyfriend, walking hand in hand through the area. Rows and rows of stalls with fresh fruits and veggies, bunches of flowers bursting with vibrant colors, baked goods alongside jars of jams and honey. It was overwhelming in the best possible way. You didn’t know where to start, so you went everywhere, milling around aimlessly, perusing the tables and chatting with folks along the way.

Roy grunted his approval at some things, raising a brow at others that had you putting it down. If he really liked it, he would nod, and you picked up a little something. Ingredients for this week’s dinners, a still warm loaf of crusty sourdough with a jar of orange marmalade to go with that you were looking forward to enjoying when you got home, a beautiful set of handmade earrings for Keeley’s upcoming birthday—even a mug with a coffee pun on the side of it for Ted that Roy snorted at.

Had you been paying a little bit more attention to Roy, you would've seen him almost, almost smiling as he watched you scurry from tent to tent to explore. You were enjoying yourself, and that was all he could ever ask for.

You were less than halfway through the market when you spotted the cutest little flower tent off to the side.

“Roy, look! Flowers!” You exclaimed, practically skipping over to one stand with the prettiest arrangements you’d ever seen. Roy trailed behind you like a stoic shadow, looking half nauseated by the bright colors.

Wandering a little further into the tent, you grew more and more in awe at the sheer beauty of each bundle of flowers. They were perfect, each bud and leaf handpicked to create a masterpiece, but one bunch in particular caught your eye.

Gorgeous pale pink alstroemeria surrounded by hyacinth in the lightest of yellows, tiny daisies paired with another tiny white flower you didn’t recognize dotting the dark green leaves. It was a simple arrangement, but still beautiful in an effortless kind of way.

You’d never been more obsessed with anything in your life (except for maybe Roy).

“They’re nice.” He observed with a sharp nod, but he was more focused on the way your face had lit up when you’d spotted the flowers.

You turned to him, beaming. “Should we get some? We can put them on the table in the breakfast nook, maybe brighten up the place a little bit.”

“Brighten up the place? There’s a window, I think it’s fucking bright enough.” He grumbled, but he just looked mildly amused. “Besides, I have allergies.”

“Yeah, to rabbits, not flowers.” You reasoned, giving him a teasing nudge with your elbow.

“Same fucking thing!”

“It’s really not.”

You ended up leaving the tent without the flowers, opting to forgo them in favor of possibly picking up some other things whilst you continued your market explorations. You’d been a little sad, but Roy kissed your temple and laced his fingers through yours and everything was fine again. They were just flowers after all.

Roy stopped in his tracks a few stands later, digging his buzzing phone out of his pocket. “You go ahead, I’ve gotta take this call. It’s Ted.”

You hummed in agreement, giving his hand a squeeze before moving to walk ahead. “Tell Ted I said cheers!” Roy grunted again, stepping off to the side to speak in hushed tones.

As a result of leaving Roy to his own devices, you actually lost him for a while, but you assumed your grump of a boyfriend would find his way back to you eventually. He always found you. You stopped for a second to readjust the produce in your tote, and when you looked up there he was, wading through the crowd a head above the rest, searching for you with a bouquet of the flowers you’d been eyeing earlier clutched in his fist.

He reached you quickly, thrusting the flowers out towards you. “For brightness in the fucking breakfast nook.”

“What made you change your mind?”

“They made you happy.”

“You’re just a big softie, aren’t you, Roy Kent?” You were all smiles again, reaching out to pat his stubbled cheek.

Roy rolled his eyes, but there was still a whisper of a smile gracing his lips. “Yeah, yeah, don’t fucking tell anyone.”

You stifled a giggle, grabbing him by the front of his jacket and pulling him in for a kiss. His free hand instantly came up to loop around your waist, thumbing at the strip of bare skin between your shirt and jeans.

“I love you,” You mumbled against his lips, pulling back for just a second to admire his softened features. The hard line of his brow was relaxed for once, his usual angry scowl nowhere to be found. He was looking down at you like the two of you were the only ones in the world right now, already leaning back in for another kiss that you gladly went along with, sliding your hand around the back of his neck. “God, I fucking love you. You’re perfect. How are you so perfect?”

“Could be asking you the same fucking thing, can’t I?” He grumbled, looking a tad annoyed that you’d suddenly grown talkative in the middle of a makeout sesh. Part of you felt guilty because Roy didn’t usually enjoy this much PDA when you were out and about, so maybe you should’ve been taking advantage of it.

“I asked first.”

“I’m not perfect. But I love you, and that seems pretty fucking perfect to me.”

“Who are you and what’ve you done with the real Roy Kent?” You gasped playfully, drawing yet another eye roll from him. He kissed you one more time for good measure, short and sweet, before easing the heavy tote from your shoulder and hiking it onto his.

“Let’s fucking go home now. I wanna try some of that bread you got earlier while it’s still fresh.”

“And so you can pick out the biggest piece from the middle? Fucking heathen.”

“I’m the heathen? You like the fucking ends! Who the fuck likes eating the bread’s ass?”

follow @katsu-library to be notified when i post new fics :)

#roy kent #roy kent x reader #roy kent x y/n #roy kent x you #roy kent fluff #roy kent one shot #roy kent imagine #roy kent fic #ted lasso

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gotham--fc · 9 months

Text

Always - A Ruesha Littlejohn Imagine

Hello I'm back! It's sure been a while, missed yall

This fic came to me in a dream after the Canada-Ireland game so I hope it's good and that yall like it

Tagging @grapefruit-personified because she's been waiting for this for a while and honestly she was my motivation to finish this anyway enjoy!

“Hey Rue, what’s shakin’ bacon?” Y/N laughs to herself at her joke. She loves to make Ruesha laugh, so whenever she answers a call from her teammate, she’ll make a stupid joke or a pun that makes Ruesha laugh. She doesn’t laugh this time, and Y/N furrows her brow. “Rue?”

“Can I come over?” Ruesha asks.

“Yeah, of course, you’re always welcome,” Y/N says, “Is everything alright?”

“No.”

Ruesha hangs up before Y/N can say anything. Y/N starts tidying up, just to give herself something to do while she waits so she doesn’t make herself crazy wondering what’s wrong. It doesn’t take Ruesha that long to arrive and Y/N barely restrains herself from running to the door when she hears the knock.

“What’s going on?” Y/N asks.

Ruesha has clearly been crying and Y/N ushers her inside and sits her in the kitchen while she makes a cup of tea for both of them.

“Me and Katie broke up,” Ruesha says. Y/N sets the mugs down and gives Ruesha her full attention.

“I’m so sorry,” Y/N says, “That’s awful. What can I do?”

“I just need a friend right now,” Ruesha says. Y/N reaches across the table and lays her hand on Ruesha’s. She offers her what she hopes is a reassuring smile.

“Whatever you need from me right now,” Y’N says, “You got me. Always, I promise.”

***

“I can’t believe I have to spend two months with her!” Ruesha groans. Y/N shoves Ruesha’s feet off the couch so she could sit. “I should drop out.”

“You should absolutely not drop out, it’s the World Cup,” Y/N says, “I know it sucks but you don’t have to spend any time with her outside practices and games. And I’ll be there,” Y/N waggles her eyebrows.

“Yeah, on a completely different team,” Ruesha rolls her eyes and plops her feet in Y/N’s lap.

“We’re in the same group, at least.”

“It still sucks.”

“I know,” Y/N rubs Ruesha’s shin to comfort her, “But it’s gonna be okay. I know it’s hard and it sucks having to be around your ex, but fuck her, honestly. It’s the World Cup! You’re gonna have a blast and it’s gonna be so great and you’re going to play in the World Cup, this is gonna be amazing for you.”

“We haven’t seen each other, really, since we broke up. She wasn’t home when I got my stuff. The first time we’re seeing each other since we broke up is at the World Cup. Talk about the worst fucking timing.”

“Yeah, it really is. I can’t make it better. But you guys are going to have to learn to be civil. You’re both going to play on the same national team for the rest of your careers. I know it sucks that it’s the World Cup, but the next time you guys have to play together will be so much better because you’ve already done it in the most stressful environment you could get. This is just character growth,” Y/N says.

“I hate that you’re so smart,” Ruesha grumbles.

“That’s what you get when you pick a best friend like me,” Y/N says.

“Yeah,” Ruesha glances away, an unreadable look in her eyes, “I guess you’re right.”

“Hey,” Y/N waits until Ruesha’s looking back at her, “You got me. Always. Okay?” Ruesha smiles.

***

The leadup to the World Cup is intense, it always is. It’s days full of training, or working out, or days when they’re told to rest and coaches and trainers stalking the hotel to ask why they’re out of their rooms. It’s stressful, but it’s rewarding, because Y/N knows at the end of this they’ll be playing in the World Cup.

Despite how intense and stressful and time consuming every day is, Y/N still finds time to talk with Ruesha. They’re not in the same hotel, not even in the same city, but Y/N makes sure her phone is nearby for whenever they have time to talk. Y/N ignores her teammates teasing. Like, yeah, okay, sure, she has a tiny crush on Ruesha, but Ruesha’s going through a breakup and also doesn’t feel the same. And that’s fine. Y/N’s fine. Ruesha needs a friend, and Y/N is so okay with being that friend.

“Hey, you played well today,” Y/N says.

“Like you even watched it,” Ruesha says.

“I did! Who do you take me for?” Y/N asks with faux offense, “I was studying my opponents.”

“Sure you were.”

“I know you watched my game. You texted me about that tackle I made.”

“It was a good tackle, pretty decent.”

“Piss off!” Y/N laughs, “I will hang up on you.”

“No you won’t,” Ruesha says, “You love me too much.”

“Yeah, yeah I do.”

They’re silent for a moment. Y/N swallows.

“I saw,” Y/N says, “What happened. What everyone’s saying about it.”

“Everyone’s a bunch of shits,” Ruesha says, “They can shut the fuck up.”

“That may be true, but, Rue… What happened?”

“You said you saw what happened,” Ruesha grumbles.

“Rue.”

“What do you want me to say?” Ruesha huffs, “I don’t have to shake her fucking hand if I don’t want to. You know what’s going on with them. I don’t have to play nice with Katie’s new girlfriend.”

“No, but you can’t start fights with the whole world watching,” Y/N says.

“Not that many people watched the game.”

“Not my point.”

“I get your point,” Ruesha says, “I’m saying I’m fine and that I’m not going to hide what I’m feeling just because I’m on TV. If Katie doesn’t like how I treat her new girlfriend then that’s her problem, not mine.”

“I just want to make sure you’re okay,” Y/N says, “I want to make sure you’re not going to do anything you regret.”

Ruesha can be so stubborn sometimes and normally Y/N doesn’t mind. She likes Ruesha for who she is, stubbornness and all, but it’s times like these that Y/N can get frustrated. She knows how ruthless fans and the media can be and she just wants to keep Ruesha from facing anything negative. She’s already seen what some people are saying and she wants to climb through her phone screen and grab the people making comments and shake them, scream at them that they don’t know what they’re talking about, they don’t know Ruesha like she does. But she can’t do that, so instead she has to settle for fighting through Ruesha’s stubbornness to try and convince her to think before she acts.

“I can handle myself. I’m a big girl,” Ruesha says.

“I just don’t want you to get hurt,” Y/N admits quietly.

Ruesha doesn’t respond immediately and Y/N lets the silence sit. It’s heavy and weighted and the longer it goes on the more Y/N thinks Ruesha’s hung up. It wouldn’t be the first time Ruesha’s hung up when Y/N said something she doesn’t want to hear. Y/N is about to hang up herself, when Ruesha speaks.

“Thanks for always looking out for me,” Ruesha says quietly.

“Of course. Always.”

***

As soon as the celebration and team talks are over, Y/N heads over to the Irish players. She shakes hands, gives hugs, but her mind is focused on one thing.

“Hey,” Y/N gets the attention of Louise Quinn.

“Congrats on the win,” Louise says.

“Thanks,” Y/N gives her a quick hug, “Do you know, by any chance–”

“She went back to the locker room,” Louise says before Y/N can finish. Y/N smiles in thanks.

Y/N goes back through the tunnel and heads in the direction of the Irish locker room. She finds Ruesha leaning up against the wall beside the door, staring at her feet.

“If you’re mad at me, you should’ve done a better job of hiding.”

Ruesha huffs.

“Not mad at you. You’re not that special.”

“But you are mad,” Y/N leans on the wall beside her.

“Of course I’m mad! We’re done! We’re out! We went through all the work, all the training, all the games, all the bullshit, for nothing. It meant nothing.”

“It wasn’t for nothing,” Y/N says.

“It sure feels like it,” Ruesha huffs again, “I thought it was all gonna be worth it. I thought sticking it out and putting up with her and everything would be worth it in the end. Now I just wish we’d never qualified at all.”

“You don’t really think that.”

“No,” Ruesha sighs, “I don’t. I’m just pissed.”

“I know how hard this all was for you,” Y/N says, nudging Ruesha’s shoulder in a comforting gesture, “With Katie and everything. And I want to help make this better for you, however I can. You’re my best friend Rue.”

Ruesha makes a sound almost like a growl as she springs from the wall and moves in front of Y/N, her hands braced flat on the wall on either side of Y/N’s head, bracketing her in. Y/N blinks owlishly as Ruesha stares hard at her. There’s a myriad of emotions swirling in Ruesha’s eyes, anger, disappointment, frustration, and something Y/N forced herself to ignore every other time she’s seen it: longing.

“Stop talking.”

Then Ruesha’s kissing her and Y/N’s brain shuts down for a moment. Then she kisses Ruesha back with a fervour. This is what she’s been dreaming of for months, what she’s tried to forget she wants, what she’s repressed and buried for the sake of their friendship. It’s not the way Y/N imagined it, both sweaty and in a hallway in Australia, where Y/N’s just knocked Ruesha out of the World Cup. It’s not what Y/N pictured, but it’s perfect anyway because it’s exactly like them.

When Ruesha pulls away, Y/N knows she has a lovestruck smile on her face and the smirk Ruesha gives her in return just makes Y/N smile deeper. Ruesha’s hand grips the hem of Y/N’s top and tugs. Y/N’s eyes widen.

“Ruesha! What are you doing?” Y/N looks frantically down the hallway to see if anyone is nearby.

“What?” Ruesha says, “Isn’t it tradition to swap jerseys after a game?” Y/N shakes her head.

“You’re impossible.”

Ruesha tugs her own jersey over her head and looks at Y/N expectantly. Y/N only gets distracted by Ruesha’s bare stomach for a moment before she tugs her own jersey off. Ruesha grins after Y/N pulls her Ireland jersey on. Ruesha smooths her hands down the sleeves of her jersey.

“You look good in green.”

“And you look good in red,” Y/N says.

“Come on,” Ruesha grabs Y/N’s hand and pulls her down the hallway back towards the field. “Let’s get some photos taken. Immortalize the moment. Show the haters you’re mine.”

“Yeah,” Y/N says, “Yours. Always.”

#ruesha littlejohn #ruesha littlejohn x reader #ruesha littlejohn imagine #woso imagines #woso imagine

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sageofgrief · 3 months

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welcome home ♡

- yu q wilson x gn!reader, fluff, established relationship, french petname

divider by cafekitsune

art by vvihuu

"im homee!" your voice echoed and bounced off the walls of your house that you lived in with the love of your life. wilson came running down the halls and before you could get another word out he quickly jumped to hug you nearly knocking you off your feet, "I MISSED YOUUUUU" he lovingly said, "I MISSED YU TOO, get it?" you smirked after that lame pun. "you know what i wouldve given you a blank stare but i missed you so much just come here, mon amour.." he grabbed your face with both his hands and urgently kissed your lips that he missed so much. he pulls away and takes your wrist dragging you into the kitchen, "wait i havent even taken off my jacket or put down my bags!" you laughed, "just shut up, look what i made you!" he drags you infront of the kitchen island that had plates of your favorite comfort food steaming hot straight off the pot along with your favorite refreshing cold iced tea. "aw wilson..." you looked at his grinning face, "i know i know, "wilson is the best husband ever", oh stop it you.." wilson imitating your voice speaking for you before pulling you into another kiss by putting his right hand behind your neck forcing you to angle your head upwards.

the rest of the night continued with wilson's usual teasing shenanigans and pampering you after a long day of working. you were so lucky to have him and he's so lucky to have you, he's really a one in a million.

starting off strong with our favorite hitma- i mean hero! <3

#yu q wilson x reader #nijisanji en x reader #nijisanji x reader #nijisanji #yu q wilson #nijisanji en #krisis #krisis x reader

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covenantofthedeep · 11 months

Text

forcing a smile and waving goodbye ☆

feat. | xiao, childe, hu tao, and raiden shogun summary | breaking up w them :( a/n | it's been so long since i've written angst omg

hu tao |

she's been together with you for so long that she can hardly remember days without you. her life's been split into two sections; With You and Without You. Without You is cold and dark, a cave in her mind where she vanishes during the night and doesn't emerge till noon the next day.

she remembers how, before she met you, she was just there--incomplete, always bouncing around, always tailing people. she was just that girl at the funeral parlor that somehow knows zhongli. she was just hu tao. she remembers how, just two weeks after you two had started dating, she'd become hutaoandyn. she'd become important.

when you sit her down at your perfect mahogany-colored dining table, your perfect hands cupping a warm, steaming tea, your earnest eyes staring into hers, saying i don't think this is working out anymore, she is convinced it's a nightmare. she lets the words flow over the top of her head, holding her breath so she wouldn't cry. she doesn't say anything (are there even words for this awful pain?), just swallows her burning tea and stands up. the chair makes an awful squeaking noise, probably scratching up the floors you love so much. and she thinks, i hope they get scratched up so bad that every time you see them you think of me. and then she had feels ashamed, and petty. she forces a smile and she waves goodbye, and then slams the door.

she sits in the car for what felt like ten years, tears dripping onto the steering wheel and the seat, her shoes in her hand, her nose burning. the sky is gray, the ground is gray, the clouds are taunting her. her fire is gray, the funeral parlor is bleak. there is no joy in steamed fish. there is no joy in pranking people, not without you.

glaze lilies bring to mind your love for puns, the way she would wake up every sunday morning with a fresh bouquet and a note pinned to them on her bedside table. her heart splits a little when she eats jueyun chili chicken, because it was your favorite. when it comes around to your birthday, she takes a long bath and cries until her throat is raw and her eyes are red and swollen. on her birthday, despite the party that her friends throw for her, she wonders if you're remembering her the way she remembers you.

xiao |

xiao has never been good with feelings, but he is completely head over heels in love for you. he would sprint in front of a moving train for you. he would stab himself for you. he would rip out his heart for you, except you've done it first.

words shouldn't be able to hurt this much, especially words coming from your mouth, your mouth which usually says, i love you, xiao. except this time, it's saying, maybe we should rethink our relationship. i think we need a break. and he knows that you aren't meaning to hurt him, just trying to move on, just trying to make yourself feel better, but that doesn't console him. he tries to make himself feel angry as you're talking to him, but he can't. it's as if he won't feel anything ever again, just the painful pressure in his head, the ringing of your voice in his ears.

do me a favor and break my nose, or tell me to go away, he screams at you, but just in his head. he loves you, still. he feels like a broken nose would hurt less than this, your patient, sympathetic smile, your cried-out eyes that show that you still care too. you reach for his hand, but he feels like your touch would burn, maybe it would make him shatter into a million pieces like glass. do people do that? do adepti do that? does anything alive do that at all?

he feels like he's drowning, like something's holding his head underwater. it's making your face all fuzzy. or maybe that's the tears in his eyes, or maybe he's tired. maybe he's so tired he's hallucinating the whole thing. but that would be too good to be true, because you're standing up and squeezing his shoulders and walking off.

he guesses that you won't have any more tea dates. and with that, he hurls his cup to the ground and watches it shatter.

raiden shogun |

raiden is unaccustomed to love, which is why it hurts more when you're breaking up with her. she had told you that she wasn't the right person to love, that she could hurt you, that she wasn't perfect. you had kissed her and told her that she was wrong, she was lying, of course she was perfect. despite her protests, she had fallen in love with you; your smile and your chin and your cheeks and your forehead. your hands, which hold hers.

she wants to slap you, make you hurt the way she does. she wants to kill you for how you made her love you and then you're making her stop. but of course, she can't stop. how could she ever not love you? you take her face in your hands and she melts, she slumps away. she tries to deny it to herself (of course you still love her!) but it feels like she's ripping away, like just a small gust of wind could strip her away to her skeleton.

bleakly, in her haze, she wonders if there's someone else. someone else who's stolen your gaze as she once did, who you think about at night and whisper stolen words into their ears. but then she thinks about you, and she realizes that would not be the case. you would be doing it because you would think that she wanted it, that she wanted space.

you kiss her cheek, and she thinks numbly, maybe if she was better at love, this wouldn't happen.

childe |

childe had never thrown himself into love as fervently as he did with yours. you could make him smile when he felt like he was dying, and your laugh had taken up a space in his brain reserved specifically for you.

he loved how the light dappling across your face could bathe you in such an ethereal glow, as if you were blessed by the archons. and, he guessed, sometimes you were. it's uncanny, the way your face showed no emotion as you took his hand and whispered, i think we need a break. his heart had shattered then, into a million pieces that dissolved into his body. maybe he could never fix it.

he stares at you, so blankly, you wonder maybe if he hasn't heard you. then he says, what? so softly, so sadly, it almost splits your soul apart. he thinks, probably, that no one will make him as happy as you did. perhaps he will never be happy again. this thought scares him, it rattles him, he never wants to forget your face.

he's never cried over someone before, but he does now. and the sight of his tears shock you, as if you've been dumped into an ice-cold bath and can't breathe. he's sobbing, hands curled into tight fists, waving you away, telling you to just go, please go, please, please go. you don't want to leave him, but you know his sadness will turn to anger and he will lash out. you press a kiss to his temple and he shouts, fuck off! fuck off and go!

as he watches you go, he thinks that simply "fuck off" might be too kind.

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isa-ghost · 3 months

Note

OMG i would love to hear more qphil headcannons!

SET 5 LETS GOOOOO

Previous Sets:

Set 1

Set 2

Set 3

Set 4

When he's alone he gives so many less fucks. Anytime he passes a Federation camera or building or whatever he flips it off. Sometimes he'll stop to do it, do a funky mocking jig out of spite. If Fit has Fuck The Catfish (FTC) then Phil has FTF. Fuck the Feds

Besides the fact that he's sentimental about stupid shit, he also hasn't deconstructed the shitty dirt shack yet because he treats it as rent lowering gunshots. That's his wall. Bitch.

He's a teeny tiny bit sad everyone who lived IN the wall is sorta gone for one reason or another. It's a bit lonely. And eerie, considering a lot of the time they lived in there was before the worst of what's happened to everyone happened. The insides of the walls feel like a fucked up time capsule now...

We've seen this in canon but he LOVES to wander. Wanderlust his beloved. Find cool shit, collect cool shit, get cool pictures. It's just nothing but Ws. ... He feels a lot of deja vu doing it. He'd be able to place it if he could just fly...

Ever since that taste of flight in Purgatory, he's been aching so much more for it again. His stomach fills with dread at the thought of saving Tubbo's life costing him his wings. He'd make the decision he did again & 100x over, but flying is so core to who he is. He can't fathom being grounded for the rest of eternity.

If it weren't for the constant danger he feels like he's in, he'd LOVE to just lay down on his stomach on Chayanne's old house's roof & just sun his wings. Mmmmmm warmmmm

He'll never admit it to Tallulah, but sometimes he switches up what he eats between his avocado toast phases so he never gets sick of it. She thinks he just infinitely enjoys the stuff.

He's convinced the Baker is a paid [Federation employee? Cucurucho 3?] actor that can't, no matter what, break their stoic smile. Phil spends SO much time when he has no other responsibilities trying to get them to crack. He flips them off, he makes faces, he threatens them, he rambles off the wildest most random shit. He did the DK prank. He dances in front of them. Nothing. But one day he'll get them.

Just like cc!Phil, he loathes a lot of stereotypical British stuff, like tea. It's so funny. Fit & Tubbo especially like pushing his buttons about it, his food rants are the best.

When he heard someone on the island made up a rumor that Eggza is legit because Phil taste-tested a cookie out of curiosity, he took that and RAN. Yeah. He's egg sometimes. Who's his parent you ask? Well that's a secret (it's Rose).

The moment Fit told him he has a thing for Pac, Phil instantly launched into wingman mode (pun intended). No more,,,, Hitting The Gym Together. Fit wants more than a fwb, Phil is SO here for it

Cellbit & Baghera take priority over everything. But GOD is he not ready for the flashbacks when he gets to Egg Island to save them. He didn't know Etoiles left that scar on his back...

In very dad fashion, his sneezes and yawns are fucking atrocious. Unnecessarily loud.

(With the idea that Purg2 is canon): He can't help but think about all those new people going through the hell he did. What if he knew some of them? What if there were friends there he forgot about because the Federation meddled with his memory? It makes him sick.

The islanders closest to him + the kids are starting to think he's got some kinda sleep disorder. He sleeps for an awful long time sometimes... (when his hc streams get long :) )

This idiot sleeps in the worst places I bet his back cracks and pops like fucking bubble wrap (same tho)

#qsmp #qsmp philza #q!philza #philza #qphil headcanons

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total-drama-brainrot · 1 month

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Redid my internsona/dramasona to match my style more... mostly meaning I gave them Big Trousers.

More Intern Lore™ under the cut!

Actually fairly short (5'3) but wears Dr Martens with HUGE SOLES to bump up their height- mostly hidden by their excessively large cargo trousers.

Aroace and nonbinary. Comfortable with any pronouns and personally uses they/them.

Wears an asexual signifier ring (black ring on the right middle finger) and a malachite necklace. Collects gemstones but doesn't subscribe to the spiritual healing ideals, they just think gems and shiny rocks are cool.

Super concerned with the other interns' wellbeing whilst steadfastly ignoring their own; they take sporadic cat naps instead of having a regular sleep schedule but encourage others to get a full eight hours, they carry around water bottles to keep others hydrated but personally live on Monster Energy and different types of tea, ect.

Can and will take awful treatment from other people without batting an eye (doesn't care about mistreatment against themself) but the moment an injustice happens against someone else they're throwing hands.

Presents as fairly stoic/sarcastic but generally doesn't mean to be. They just have an awful case of RBF and have a hard time expressing emotions... that doesn't mean they're not a sardonic little shit.

Super diverse sense of humour and very committed to the bit. Will laugh at even the lowest brow comedy, including toilet humour and dick jokes. Likes to engage in "battles of wits" with other interns which starts of fairly intelligent but usually devolves into throwing awful puns at each other or recycling terrible "your momma" jokes.

Actually proficient as an intern; their previous jobs in customer service, fast food and retail have prepared them for physically and emotionally strenuous jobs. Too bad they're incredibly lazy and often 'trade' off their tasks and/or procrastinate on their duties until the last second.

Incredibly pale skin that burns and bruises super easily. They wear long sleeves and baggy trousers to cover as much skin as possible because of this.

#internsona #dramasona #intern ophe

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itzsana-kiddingmenow · 4 months

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hey I love ur fics! I had an idea: could you do Lee!minho and ler!Seungmin finding out that Lee knows death spot is his underarms - I think it would be cute

Machine Ler[n]ing:

words: 229 tw: use of tools a/n: on a roll! hehe hope you enjoy 💙💙💙 [yes the title is on purpose i am sorry i am terrible at puns 🤣] lee: Minho ler: Seungmin taglist: @someone-who-loves-kpop-saranghae @jeonginsdiary @leeknowstan33 @v--143 @wereallgonnadieonedaybutnottoday @inkytornpagess @lajanaa this drabble is about tickling, if it's not your cup of tea pls scroll!~

"aish, where is it?"

seungmin rustled around in his drawer, tsking every now and then and moving to the drawer underneath the previous one.

no, he needed to find it.

"aha!" he produced a device from the bottom of his drawer.

"now to get Minho hyung..." seungmin grinned maniacally, letting out an evil laugh before scrambling from the room.

meanwhile, our cat lover was perched on the couch, watching a new k-drama in his tank top and eating a salad.

sunlight poured through the window, a perfect day to be resting on the couch.

the warm, comfy couch.

seungmin entered the room from behind, muffling his giggles with the back of his hand as he switched the device on, the feather top wiggling.

he crept up behind the soon-to-be victim, who was busy watching the tv intently, unaware of the chaos that was about to take place.

he stuck the brush, topped with shaking feathers, right into minho's armpit.

seungmin knew the armpit wasn't his most sensitive spot, but who knew?

minho practically leapt off the couch with a embarrassingly loud squeal, rubbing at his underarm agressively.

"woah, there's no way." seungmin stared in awe.

"don't. you. dare. SEUNGMIN NO!" minho was pinned down and the tool was shoved into his underarm yet again.

"NOHOHOHO! STOHOHOP! IHIHITS TOHOHOHORTURE!"

let's say seungmin did not let this fact go unknown, however.

#kpop tickle #midzywannabeitzy #stray kids #skz tickle #skz

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dangerpronebuddie · 4 months

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Kiss Me Once Cause You Know I Had A Long Night 20/?

20. Hand kisses

Summary:

Buck joined them and Jee swatted at Eddie's shoulder. "Pwince Bu!"

Buck ducked his head with a laugh. "I'm moving up in the world. Last week, I was a peasant."

Jee swatted Eddie's shoulder again. "Kiss hand," she said before pointing at Buck.

(Last one of the year! And go to chapter one to see the incredible cover @ronordmann made for me!!!) 😍🥰

Eddie entered the loft to find it an absolute pigsty. Crayons and coloring books littered the kitchen island. Pillows from Buck's bed and the maroon throw pillows from his new couch blocked the stairs. Half a roll of toilet paper lay near the balcony. An impressive finger painting covered the bottom few feet of the glass doors.

Giggles echoed from beneath the stairs. Eddie walked further into the chaos and peaked around the blocked staircase.

He didn't think it was possible for him to get baby fever.

Eddie had seen Buck with kids tons of times. The PTA absolutely loved him. Eddie understood the draw. Watching him with Chris was enough to make him blissfully dizzy. A toddler? Eddie was wondering if he could try the baby trapping route again. (Not that it worked the first time.)

Buck sat on the couch with Jee, both dressed in tiaras and pink feather boas. Jee poured imaginary tea into some cups and handed one to Buck, who clinked his cup against hers before taking an exaggerated sip.

Buck looked up and met Eddie's eye, his already wide grin becoming luminescent.

"Look who it is, your Majesty," Buck said happily.

Jee whipped her head around and beamed. "Eds!" She jumped off the couch and toddled over to Eddie. Eddie crouched and scooped her up in a hug.

"Good morning, your Majesty," he grinned, bouncing her on his hip.

Buck joined them and Jee swatted at Eddie's shoulder. "Pwince Bu!"

Buck ducked his head with a laugh. "I'm moving up in the world. Last week, I was a peasant."

Jee swatted Eddie's shoulder again. "Kiss hand," she said before pointing at Buck.

A blush painted Buck's cheeks. "Uh... protocol. She made me do it to Prince Chimney when he dropped her off."

Eddie couldn't help but laugh at the image that created. "Do you know how insufferable he's going to be for the next week?"

"It's already started, believe me," Buck grumbled.

Jee squirmed in Eddie's arms and he set her down. She pointed at Buck again.

"I'd hate to break protocol," Eddie said.

"You might end up in the Tower of Lofton," Buck grinned.

Eddie groaned at the awful pun. "How did you ever become a prince?"

"Must be my looks," Buck preened.

Before Eddie could come up with a comeback, Jee tugged on his hand.

"Terribly sorry, your Majesty," he said with an exaggerated bow. He looked at Buck and knelt, extending his hand.

The blush climbed higher up Buck's face. He took Eddie's hand.

"Your Highness," Eddie said with a slight bow of his head before pressing a kiss to Buck's knuckles.

Jee nodded once in satisfaction, a gesture Eddie was certain he'd seen both Maddie and Chimney do at some point.

Buck took Eddie's hand and pulled him to his feet. Buck looked into his eyes. Eddie felt a blush of his own creeping up onto his face.

"Pwince Bu! Eds!" Jee swatted at Eddie's thigh, breaking them from their staring contest. "Tea get cold."

Buck huffed a laugh and ducked his head. He looked at Eddie through his lashes. "Care to join us for our tea party?"

"I'd love to," Eddie smiled. Buck tugged him to the couch, his thumb sweeping across Eddie's knuckles. Their fingers remained laced together until Chim and Maddie came for Queen Jee-Yun.

#911 #evan buckley #eddie diaz #buddie #9-1-1 #911 abc #fanfic #my writing #Kiss Me Once #jee yun buckley han

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tristikov · 3 months

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My dad passed away recently after a nearly year-long battle with cancer. He was 65. His wife took this photo a number of years back, and it sublimely captures so much about who he was, while instilling a mystique that I think is also fitting. I wrote the following to read at his funeral:

---

If you’ve ever seen my father in a crowd, you’d know he wasn’t hard to spot… Though his clothing tended to be modest, and his manner gentle, his 6’6” stature meant he usually stood head—and often shoulders—above those around him. That isn’t to suggest he wasn’t a down-to-earth individual, and I’m sure most anyone who knew him could attest to his kindness and can-do desire to help others.

Physical height runs in his side of the family, but even as a full-grown adult I’ve continued to look up to him in more ways than one (…an appreciation of wordplay also seems to be in our genes, but I shouldn’t jump the pun). As a kid I remember riding with him in “the Chev,” a woods vehicle he built himself, collecting, splitting, and stacking firewood for the winter. Through him I learned to appreciate the simple pleasure of working outdoors, roaming the quiet woods, and being considerate of the land.

As I grew older, I also worked with him on his cranberry bogs for a number of years. I learned much in that time, and though I chose to pursue a different career path, I have always looked back fondly on the time I spent working with my dad… Installing sprinkler heads in the busy thaw of Spring, battling weeds and fixing irrigation lines in the blazing Summer sun, setting up the berry pump, corralling the cranberries, and harvesting the crop under the brilliant skies of Autumn, then driving his hand-built ice sanders over the frozen bogs in the chill of Winter. Thanks to him I also have an undying appreciation for the local pizzeria, iced coffee in every season, and taking a nap after lunch (at least when time permits).

A farmer’s life is a demanding one, and each morning, fueled only by a cup of Lipton tea, my father rose to the thorny challenges of every season: Watching over the crop on little sleep through Spring and Fall frosts, maintaining our vehicles and the myriad of farm equipment, or building whatever was needed with the resources at hand—often sawing a few 2-by-4s, welding some angle iron, and bolting on an old motor… Sometimes all three.

Though my father designed and built the house I grew up in, the shop barn we relaxed and did projects in, the shed he kept his dirt bike and later ATV in, the horse barn, the camp in Maine, and at least half a dozen other sheds and outdoor constructions, his most recent endeavor—a new cedar log house--was his masterpiece… Thanks in no small part to the hard work and dedication of his dear wife, the two of them built a lovely home together overlooking the very bogs he had spent so many years tending to.

She also helped him to complete the camp in Maine which he had begun all the way back when I was a child. I took many winter trips there with my father over the years, to relax, ride the snowmobile trails, and to break fresh snow searching for elusive moose antlers. My dad loved the north woods, moose, and a day of both hard work and leisurely puttering… Maine’s state slogan is “the way life should be,” and I think my dad agreed.

I’ll miss greatly those trips with my father, more so even than working with him on the bogs. I treasured the time to connect and learn from him. I’m probably not the only guy to think highly of their dad, but with the wide breadth of skills, depth of knowledge, and social presence he possessed, it was, and still is hard to not be in awe of him. I am a father myself now, and as I remember the impressive size of the trusty old snow boots my dad wore every winter, I feel that his shoes are going to be very large ones to fill.

While my dad no doubt lived a full life, it was far too short, and I weep for the time he cannot spend with his loving wife, his young grandson, and all of his family and friends, with joy and warmth in his newly built home. He was a great father, role model, and mentor. He was one-of-a-kind, and made an indelible impression on those who met him. He will be missed by all, but when the warm late-summer nights give way to cool early-autumn evenings and the cranberries ripen scarlet under a clear blue sky, that is when I will miss him most.

#eulogy #father #dad #tribute #cranberries

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