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blueprint-han · 4 years

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he’s just like a cat.

♡ pairing: minho x (gender neutral) reader ♡ genre: domestic au; fluff. ♡ warnings: this is just cuddling with minho 🥺 even though this has no suggestive implication, there’s a little making out in this, because I know maxine won’t mind. :3 ♡ word count: 1.4 K ♡ disclaimer: this writing does not aim to represent the activities of the real Lee Minho, nor does it represent JYPE in any form. Events are pure fiction. ♡ ♡ type: drabble. ♡ network tag: @stayverse @districtninewriters @inkidz + @sunoo-luvs ♡ part of: the url drabble game; requested by @kittenanonnie rAwR <3333 UwU (requests for this are closed now!)

↯ note: hope you like it kitten !! i have nothing more to say than I love you <33 thank you for making me smile with every ask and rAwR you send me i really appreciate you <33 ⇥ dawn.☀️

The atmosphere's perfectly cozy in your apartment — furry blankets, a warm boyfriend ready to cuddle, and a movie on the screen. Minho's warm, so cozily warm that you melt into him when he slings an arm around your shoulder halfway through the movie, leaning your head into his chest to listen to his heartbeat.

You were more than ready to accept when Minho had suggested a movie date — being more than excited to spend time with him after a while, falling asleep against his firm chest and having him run his hands through your hair and also have him leave small kisses wherever he could when he was feeling extra clingy.

And it seems like he's feeling extra clingy today.

As soon as he’d entered the house, he’d pulled you into a hug, gently nuzzling into your neck before pecking the skin there — humming in content all along. You’d fisted your hands into his sweater, sighing in content into his warm embrace. Winter was cold, but you had Minho to stay warm with.

So, when you feel a hand slide up your shoulder to the side of your chin, gently pushing to make you face him, you already know what’s going to happen.

“Hey.”

“Hey there,” You chortle, leaning into his warm, so warm hand as you turn your head to brush your lips against his palm. When you look back into his eyes, you feel like you’re being pulled closer and closer to gaze into all the stars in his eyes. Momentarily, you tense up when he plays with the hem of your shirt. You feel your skin burn with passion and love as you bring a hand to gently rake through his soft, black hair.

He lets out a soft sigh in return — almost a purr — as he rests his hand just under the fabric, rubbing gentle circles into your skin. From here you can focus on him clearly — his shiny, silky locks of hair that fall over his forehead and the way his top lip engulfs the bottom one when he bites his lip, and the way his heavily lidded eyes peer into you through the dim lighting.

Lee Minho’s lips feel soft — soft when you run your thumb across them, soft when he presses little kisses to your forehead or your cheeks, or the back of your neck when you’re distracted, or like right now — soft when he gently takes hold of your chin and presses his lips to yours.

You’ve also learned over the years that he’s just like his cats — whenever you pet his head, whenever he leans his head against your stomach and gently rubs as a sign for you to lead your hand to his hair. It’s so, so cute that all it can take for a totally bad day for him to go opposite is being in your arms with you petting his head, occasionally pecking his forehead and murmuring a little “I love you,” or “You’re so cute.”

For the same reason, when you gently scratch at his scalp amid the kiss, Minho parts from you for a second, barely out of breath because of how gentle the kiss is. It isn’t fueled by need or want or desire — just the wish to be with each other. “You’re so beautiful,” He whispers before leaning into your chest, pushing you down onto the couch with him on top.

You sigh and grab the edges of his oversized sweater, letting yourself be wrapped in his embrace. Just like a cat, once again, he nuzzles into your chest, heaving a sigh as he guides his hand to your head.

“You’re more beautiful.” You coo, letting a hearty laugh slip as you card your fingers through his hair, brushing away any stray locks that may threaten to get into his eyes. It may all seem to quiet, but this has always been how date nights ended.

With Minho and you smiling in each other’s arms, in each other’s embrace, completely forgetting about everything else. Just like how you’ve totally forgotten about the movie right now — but you can’t blame yourself, not when Minho kisses you in a way that seems endearingly relaxing, yet passionate enough to steal your breath away.

He’s warm, warm in every place you run your hands on, and he’s warming your heart. It's Lee Minho’s effect, you could say, though you know he’s just as affected, just as soft for you right now. He snuggles into your chest once again, sighing as he feels lulled into a deep slumber.

“What about the movie?” You ask, though there’s little interest in your tone. Which shows that you clearly have no interest to finish the movie, not when you’re in this position currently. You gently slip your hands into his shirt, resting it against his bare back and chuckling when he tenses up, only to sigh and place a tiny kiss to your collarbone. You’ve gotten your reply to that question.

The dim lighting doesn’t highlight his appearance much, but you don’t need that to know that he’s absolutely gorgeous. You almost melt at the whine that leaves his throat, and then you realise that your hand’s resting still in his hair. You giggled, shaking your head before gently combing through his hair.

He lifts his head slightly — he looks sleepy and cozier than ever — before fitting it in the gap between your shoulder and your neck, then proceeding to leave soft kisses all over your shoulder. By this time, a comfortable feeling has spread from your chest to your fingertips and the tips of your toes, almost pulling you into the depths of sleep.

Before that can happen, however, Minho nuzzles the curve of your neck, just where you’re the most ticklish.

A squeal leaves your lips which soon morphs into a steady, low giggle, now that Minho’s ardent on making you laugh by kissing right over the same spot ever-so-lightly. “M’ ticklish there, stop!” You burst into fits of laughter, filled with nothing but pure love for the man in front of you, in your arms right now.

“Mm, but you’re so soft...” Minho purrs, this time. His voice is muffled from how invested he is in making you laugh until your stomach and lips start hurting — he was always like that. Always finding ways to make you laugh, make you happy and forget about anything even borderline negative, your happiness mattered to him as much as his own, if not more.

“Minhoooo!” You pull him away from where he’s grown comfortable between your neck and shoulder, making him face you as you gently kissed the tip of his nose.

“What?” He asks, frowning and giving you the most adorable pout you’ve ever seen.

“You’re such a big goof.” You comment lovingly, and he doesn’t reply, opting to lean in and kiss each of your eyelids softly, then your cheeks, then the tip of your nose, and back to rest on your lips. You cup his own cheeks gently, his skin feels smoother than velvet under your palms, only coaxing you to rub your thumbs over his cheekbones. You’re all but drowning, drowning — drowning in his kisses, in his love, in his hold — and you’re taking him with you.

When he pulls away again, you gasp this time, feeling short of breath even though the kiss was equally as gentle as the last one. Minho simply rests his forehead against yours. “I love you.” He says so naturally, it feel so... real. With no hesitation, no pre-thought, just a vocalization of every feeling that you’ve made him feel, all poured into those three days.

You look into his eyes, fluttering them close as you nuzzle your noses together. “You know I love you too.” Minho only nods, leaning in to press his cheek against your chest again. “Pet.” He orders, making you roll your eyes playfully as you pet him once again. He feels every inch of tension relieve of his shoulders when your fingers brush against the back of his ear.

You can’t really deny his order either, because being pressed under Minho’s warmth only seems to bring you to the edge of sleep, to the point where you don’t realise when the movie had ended and when complete silence took over, spare for the sounds of Minho’s calm breathing, along with yours.

“Sleep well, dear.” You kiss his hair lightly, inhaling the citrus scent of his shampoo as you’re pulled into a deeper state of slumber.

*sighs*

↯ note; 🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️ please ignore me as i pray to all the gods out there that the tags should work this time ;-; 🕯️ oh tumblr gods if you’re hearing this plea, please please please let the tags work I beg of you ;-; 🕯️ thank you for attending my ted talk 🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️ — dawn.☀️

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hopelesshawks · 3 years

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Okayokayokay I haven’t seen this and I’m a huge Dabi stan as well as a massive Keigo stan. But can to do a female reader x Dabi where he hasnt seen his girlfriend do makeup because usually shes too busy with like college or something to do it and he comes over/she goes to meet him and sees her with really sparkly and pretty eyemakeup and genuinely doesnt know to to react? Bonus points if she wears one of his jackets or hoodies and its SUPER big on her extra bonus points if she wears leggings with it and he starts to feel some things👀

I’m mad at Dabi for things he’s done in the manga 😠 but let’s be honest I’d still let that asshole ruin my life. Plus he and I be runnin the Endeavor hate club together so 😌 I’m happy to write for my favorite beef jerky boy.

Had almost finished this and then tumblr mobile glitched out and deleted a hefty chunk of it 🥲 BUT WE PERSEVERE so it’s a little later than I wanted to post it but it’s here!

Your fingers hover over the keyboard as you stare at your screen in shock. Your eyes go from your essay, to the clock, and then back to your essay. You’d actually finished. Holy shit, you’d actually finished. The clock reads only 8pm and yet here you were with a fully fleshed out and proofread essay. You had anticipated the damn thing taking you well into the night, as evidenced by your choice of comfy clothes. You wore your favorite pair of leggings and one of Dabi’s hoodies you had kept from the last time he had spent the night at your place. He still didn’t know you had it and would probably throw a hissy fit when he found out but it’s worth it. The sleeves extend to the tips of your fingers and the bottom hem reaches your mid-thigh, not to mention the material had long ago been worn soft so wearing the thing is way cozier than any of your own hoodies. In summary, the hoodie is yours now and if your boyfriend has issue with that he can fight you over it.

As you came to terms with your suddenly free evening, you briefly debate texting Dabi to see if he’s free, but then it occurs to you that going out to see him would mean changing clothes and you are far too comfortable for that shit. You lean back in your chair and think for a moment. How should you fill your sudden free time? Your eyes land on your long abandoned makeup bag and a smile brightens your face. It’s been ages since you’d experimented with make up but now there’s nothing to stop you. So you grab your makeup bag, rush into your bathroom, and spread out the tools on your counter that you’ll need to make your masterpiece.

Dabi is in a mood. It isn’t a bad one necessarily, but it sure as fuck isn’t a good one either. Instead of hanging around the league, where surely at least one of those idiots would grate on his nerves and truly turn his mood sour, he had decided to pay you a visit instead. He vaguely remembers you saying something about an essay the last time the two of you talked, but he was also fairly confident he could convince you to abandon it in favor of entertaining him instead. Which is how he found himself scaling the balconies outside your apartment building until he found yours. He tried to tug the door open only to find it locked. He tugged it a second time still no luck. He decides the best move is obviously to break the glass of the door and just climb in that way.

The sound of the glass shattering draws you rushing out of the bathroom only to watch your boyfriend climbing in through your balcony door. “I- you- wha- DABI!” You sputter as you take in your broken door. “What? Door was locked,” he shrugs. “YOU COULD’VE KNOCKED! I swear to God...” you start to lecture but Dabi tunes you out because he’s just noticed your appearance. He had never seen you wear more makeup than concealer and maybe some eyeliner, and even that was a rarity since classes and work typically occupied your time and energy too much for you to bother putting in even that much effort. Now, your eyes are beautifully framed in silver and blue, eyeliner winged perfectly in a way he’s sure must’ve taken several tries (he knew all too well from the multiple times you’d had to stitch him up that you didn’t have the steadiest of hands). Dabi isn’t one for compliments so he’d never admit it, but your eyes have always been one of his favorites of your features and the work you’d done highlighted them in the best way possible.

When he finally drags his eyes away from yours, they begin to drink in the rest of your outfit. God, how he loved you in leggings. You almost never wear them when you leave the house so it’s a treat when he does catch you in them. It’s your hoodie, however, that really captures his attention. It’s massive on you and vaguely familiar. He stares at it in confusion for a long while before finally it clicks. Something hungry and possessive begins to burn in him as he very carefully says, “(y/n),” causing you to pause mid-rant, “is that my sweatshirt?” “What? Oh! Yea it is. Why? Problem with that?” you reply cheekily. Dabi takes several steps closer to you until he’s well within your personal space. “Take it off. Now.” “Ugh, I know you’re possessive of your stuff but come onnn, it’s comfy!” you protest. “No babygirl, you’re keeping the hoodie after this. I mean take it off,” he tries again as his hands find your waist and pull you against him, “before I have to burn it off.”

Oh...

That you could do.

#dabi #bnha dabi #dabi x female reader #dabi x y/n #hhrequests #my hero academia #bnha #hopeless.olivia

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theonetheycallhannah · 4 years

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The Treatment of Captain Syverson- Chapter 7: Non-Productive Time

Pairing: Captain “Sy” Syverson x OFC (Shane Benton)

Summary: On a slow afternoon, Shane remembers a couple of fun evenings with Sy, and can’t help but start texting him…he turns out to be a bad influence.

Don’t want spoilers? Click me first to catch up!

Word Count: 2.3k

Warnings: Language, mature themes, a steamy scene that bumps up against the line of smut/not smut…it looks like smuttish is, in fact, a thing, (see what I did there? Toss a high five to your fic writer for the paraphrased Witcher quote in these here notes! lol! Sorry, i’m tired...and in a weird mood tonight...) so, anyway, using that. I love it.

Author’s Note: This chapter was about half done before I even started SI1 and SI2! So that’s why it’s come along so quickly in the wake of them. It could also mean that there are some continuity issues…I found a couple during the re-write of the first part, and more when I was proofing, so it should be good, but…fair warning, one or more could have escaped me! Also, let me know if the text convo is hard to follow. I’ll try to reconfigure it to be more clear. It seemed to me like context was enough, and they’d had text convos before, and no one said anything…this one’s longer by about 300%, though, so…feedback and constructive criticism is always welcome and appreciated!

Disclaimer: Unfortunately for me, Henry is not mine, le sigh, and all mention of him, his characters, any characters from his films, or his precious doggy, Kal, are strictly for transformative and recreational use. I neither ask for, nor accept payment for the work I post on Tumblr or AO3. Unbeta’d because this is for fun and escapism.

Tags:

@onlyhenrys

@cavillryarchive

@summersong69

@titty-teetee

@bloodyinspiredfuck

@agniavateira

@oddsnendsfanfics

@omgkatinka

@thisismysecretthirstblog

@misslaland

@speakerforthedead0@tumblnewby

@suavechops

Hope I’m not forgetting anyone! If you want to be notified when I post a new chapter or work, I’ll be happy to add you to my tag list! Stricken blogs are getting personal messages from me when a new chapter is uploaded because Tumblr’s faulty tagging system will not stand in the way of me delivering what the people want!(?) lol! (Although…their lackadaisical notification system might…sorry for that. I have no control. lol!)

Time seemed to pass slowly when Shane wasn’t with Sy. When they weren’t having dinner together, or doing their typical date thing. She thought about their second date. One of the bars in town, chosen for its above average bar food but mostly, it’s pool tables. The warning he’d given her via text had made her laugh:

We’re goin’ to Cade’s for apps and pool, if that's okay. As gorgeous as you looked in that blue dress you wore last night, I recommend jeans and a T-shirt for tonight, okay?

She took his suggestion. A simple black tee, because she was a food klutz from hell, layered over a red camisole, and her favorite jeans. It showed off her dainty arrow necklace well.

While they played, they drank beer and talked about life, getting deeper into things than they could at therapy sessions.

“Dad split when I was about ten, I guess. Mom did her best with her only son, but she sent me to my grandpa’s a lot when she was working or just…needing her own time. He’d been an army man. Fought in Korea. His dad was in World War II. It felt like…I don’t know, this pull, like I was meant to join up.”

“Destiny?” She asked. A dreamy tone overtook him when he talked about his family and his now former career.

“I guess. Never though too much of all that before.”

They smiled at one another. Knowing.

“What was he like? Your grandpa?”

“Oh, Pap was the best. He was a mechanic in the service and so he could get anything hummin, ya know? We fixed up and built motors for all kinds a’ shit. My first car was a ‘67 Shelby Mustang with the fast back all because when I was about 14, he found most of one at a salvage yard and basically rescued it from the crusher. Got it for about nothin’. For two years we collected parts and did body work on that thing. And by the time I turned sixteen, it was the most beautiful, show-ready Kerry green machine you ever seen.”

“One of my favorite cars! I’d love to see pictures!”

“I’ve still got ‘er.” He grinned. “When Pap died, it got…hard for me to drive her, ya know? So…special occasions only now. And he left me his truck, which he’d just bought brand new while I was on my first tour. That F150 crew cab we came here in, with all the bells 'n whistles. I couldn’t let such a fine automobile go to waste.” He grinned.

“You’re such a gear head.” She chuckled.

“Hey, you may be glad about that when you need somebody to get your own motor humming.” He teased back at her, bending over the table to take his shot and sinking it deftly. He said they would only play for fun, but he was still winning this round…which she didn’t think was that fun.

“Okay, I deserved that.”

“The shot, or the innuendo?” He asked to clarify.

“Yes.” They laughed. He eventually did miss, making it her turn.

"Ya know, I'm disappointed in this date, Shane." He baited.

"How come?" she asked, a bit hurt.

"A guy only asks a girl to play pool with him so he can show her how to shoot…and you already know."

It was true. She'd played a lot growing up and even a bit as she got older. She and her siblings loved billiards. Her whole family, really. And although she was no professional, she wasn't half bad for an amateur.

"What do you mean?" she asked innocently, sizing up the table for her next shot, but knowing with a fair amount of certainty what he was implying.

"You know. I wanted to get all close to ya. Show ya how to grip that cue in your hand. How to stand, bent at the hip, where to eyeball your shot from." he smiled. "All that shit ya see in movies that makes the girl all nervous and excited that the guy's touchin' on her. Pressed up against her."

Shane grinned, picked up the small, blue cube of chalk and rolled the concave side over the tip of her cue…she had no need to do so, most people didn't, really…but she made herself look really sexy doing it and asked Sy, "Is that right? Well, I guess you'll have to find another way to get your cheap thrills, because this girl has been known to run a table." She bent over the green felt seductively, the angle at which she did so displaying her décolletage in his direction just enough to tantalize him into licking his lips. She took her shot at the 10 ball, but sunk the 8 instead, losing her the game…damn. She shouldn't have gotten cocky.

"Run it where, sunshine? Into the ground? Off a cliff?" he laughed as she stomped over and began to poke him mercilessly in the ribs.

"Come on, Minnesota Fats. Let's pay the tab and find something a little cozier to do."

"Oka--wait, did you just call me fat?" he was incredulous. She laughed.

"Oh my God, you thought YOU were gonna teach ME about billiards…Minnesota Fats is like the most famous pool player of ever. I am not calling you fat."

"You messin' with me?" he squinted.

"Sy, google it. I promise. I would never call you fat. You're… my sexy man bear."

"Technically a bear is a fat animal." he sulked.

"Why don't you tell that to one when it's chasing you down to make a meal of ya!" Shane laughed. "Come on. Remember? I think I mentioned something about… finding another way for you to get cheap thrills. Lets explore that, shall we?" she whispered into his ear. He dropped some bills on their table nearby to more than cover their food and beer, and they hauled ass into the night.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

They had definitely been exploring. In the two weeks since they'd been given the green light to see each other outside of therapy--the day Sy basically handed Shane's boss her own ass--they'd spent most evenings with each other, unless Shane had a particularly late evening at work or an early day the next day. A few nights, they had been together so late, that just staying over seemed the most reasonable option. But they had both agreed to take things slowly with the physical stuff. It had been a long time since either of them had been in a relationship, and given their patient/therapist situation, waiting a while for the sex had seemed like a good idea…on paper. On the sofa had been a different story.

One day last week, she'd had to make an early night of things, and stood up from his couch, but was pulled back down to straddle his lap.

"Hold on a minute, sunshine. Why don't you gimme a proper goodbye before ya go, hmm?" he held her so close to him at every curve of their bodies, like the pieces of a puzzle snapping flush together. His kisses were deep and agonizing, his beard gently brushing her mouth, teasing her with its uncommon softness. She returned the ardor, squeezing him in every way she could.

She couldn't contain the desire pooling at her center, especially when he clearly couldn't contain his, either, straining against his shorts, pressing against her so deliciously, right where she needed him. She didn't hold back. And he was nothing if not encouraging to her endeavor.

"That feels so good, baby. You're so warm. Mmm." he whispered as he nipped at her ear and bit at her neck. She hadn't intended to, but she felt herself slipping over the edge, into pure euphoria and gripped at his hair, still rather short, though growing out from the mandated buzz. The length made him even more sensitive and when she ran her hands up his neck and over the back of his head, the result was like an electric current straight to his manhood. His body tensed as his release followed hers seconds later.

"Fuck." he said. "I'm sorry."

"What for?" she was truly confused.

"For losin' it like a teenager." he sighed and laid his head against the back of his couch in surrender…an unfamiliar sight, Shane was certain.

"Don't worry about it. I mean…it's not quite how I pictured our first time, but--"

"Oh, hell no. This doesn't count as a TIME, sunshine. This is batting practice. A warm up.”

"Ooh, you and your baseball references again. I told you, I need to leave, Sy. You can't get me worked up with that kinda dirty talk." she kissed his cheek, and stood. "Walk me out?"

He did. And they stood holding one another in the dark, leaned up against her Explorer, Sy's back against the door, Shane's cheek on his bare, hairy chest, and the turning of the earth all but forgotten.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

She had to stop thinking about him. About their dates and the time they'd spent together. But her schedule had fallen apart for the day due to a nasty storm that had blown in, she had no more education to work on for now, and she could only clean and organize her treatment room and desk so thoroughly.

She guessed…the secretaries knew she was available if need be…and she was salaried…what was the harm in texting Sy? She'd stayed late and came in early and overworked herself in general so much for this clinic. She could justify a bit of downtime.

Hey! Whatcha doin?

Just did some exercises that my super hot PT gave me! *winky face emoji*

Uh-Oh, should I be jealous?

Mmm, hard to say, sunshine. I guess it'll depend on which one of you sleeps with me first. *devil emoji*

Smart money is on the one who’s already let you get to second base…and basically third, even though…does it count if it’s basically because of a dare. Induced by Jack Daniels?

I think it counts if you came…*smirk emoji*

Damn those skilled fingers and Tennessee whiskey.

What can I say. I told ya I knew how to get a motor humming. *cool guy emoji*

You certainly do. No doubt about that.

So how's your day goin', sunshine?

Eh, everyone's cancelled on me. I have no one until 4:00, and I have nothing to do until then. I've decided to see it as a blessing and text my favorite fella.

And when he didn't respond, you resorted to me? *smirk emoji*

Hey you know that you have no competition for my affection other than like, my dad…and Chris Evans. Lol

Your dad, I'm sure I couldn't compete with if I tried, from what you've told me. Chris…well, I'm a REAL captain, not some guy jumpin' around in tights.

Mmmm, shame. I bet you'd look good in a getup like that. *heart eyes emoji*

You think so?

Yup! *American flag emoji*

You wanna be my Black Widow?

I mean…I've already basically got a costume…*embarrassed monkey emoji*

*several lines of big eye emojis*

Yeah, a few Halloweens ago…I was Romanoff. Now you know. I'm a total nerd.

I'm a nerd, too, sunshine. Serious nerd.

How am I just finding out about this? There's next to no merch at your place, and you never wear typical nerd shirts…*skeptical face emoji*

You haven't seen my whole place…*wink emoji*

What, are you telling me you have Batman bedsheets? *lol emoji*

Oh, it's much…much worse than that. The bedroom is pretty neutral, but…I have a…kind of rec room in the basement that is basically nerd central.

Oh. Em. Gee. I can't WAIT to see that, Sy!!! And how dare you hold out on me!!!

Well, I mean, I didn't wanna lay out all my cards right off the bat. I'm playing the long game.

Ah, so, when do I get to see this nerd trap?

Come on over, sunshine. *smiley face*

I said, I've got a patient at 4:00.

Everyone's cancelled on you. Can't you cancel on them for once?

Not unless I'm violently ill do I ever have any patients cancelled on my behalf.

So…say you're violently ill and come see me. *shrugging man emoji*

I dunno, Sy…

I got stuff to make that soup you like…

She had made it clear to him how much she loved soup, especially a good creamy potato soup, and on one of their dates, he'd had her over and there was a big pot of the stuff on his stove, made from scratch. She'd never had better, and he almost got lucky that night…and I mean…he still got a little lucky. He cooked for her AND cleaned up, AND let her pick the movie that night. She still picked an action movie, because she wasn't really a romance movie type, overall. Even so. Could she leave him hanging?

She opened her thread with Heather in her messenger app on her laptop.

Heather, is there anyone who could take my last patient, Mr. Lopez?

Looks like Cheri has a cancel around that time. Need me to move him?

If you could. I'm not feeling well.

Are you pregnant?

Omg, every fucking time. Why when anything is amiss in a woman's life must it be pregnancy?! And why is it okay to ask that question?! Ugh! She loved Heather like a sister, and it probably was just a joke, but uuuuuugh!

Yes…yes I am. *eye roll emoji* I've got a killer headache that's making me queasy. I'll email Susan. Thanks.

You bet. Tell Sy I said hi. *wink emoji*

Shut up.

After a quick and concise email to her boss, she picked her phone back up. One unread message.

You there, sunshine?

She simply replied,

Get that soup ready, Captain, I'm on my way.

Up Next: Chapter Eight: Heat/Ice

#netflix sand castle #sand castle #henry cavill #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill x ofc #captain syverson #captain syverson fanfic #captain syverson x ofc #sigh for sy #smuttish #not full on smut

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dreams-madeof-strawberrylemonade · 4 years

Text

Snow

A/N: Who would’ve thought I was actually going to post today haha. Anyway, here it is and I hope you have an amazing time, filled with happiness and love for the holidays (and every other day of course). But be sure that you’ll be hearing from me again, at least one more time before Christmas lol. Enjoy :) Critique and comments are welcome :) Word count: 1.2 K+ Warnings: a little bit of language, nothing too bad

Gif by @peacelovekiszka, found here, on Tumblr. To be added to the permanent taglist, DM me or leave an ask!

Fanfiction Masterlist

You just met Sam after three weeks, time in which he had been away in Europe, for touring. Now the two of you were in your car and the music faintly playing in the background. Outside was cold like hell to be honest, even though there was a shitload of snow covering the streets and people’s yards.

As you stepped behind the steering wheel, you took of your warm hat and threw it on the backseat and did the same thing to your gloves. You knew that poor Sammy must’ve been exhausted from the travelling and playing and he was most likely jet-lagged, even though he wouldn’t admit it for nothing in the world.

“Come on, babe,” he pleaded, looking at you with puppy eyes.

Damn you Samuel Kiszka and your cute face, you thought as you looked over to him. He knew you couldn’t resist when he pulled off that face. “Fine. But when you feel the slightest bit of tiredness, you tell me and we stop,” you tell him and point your finger at him and boop his nose earning a laugh from the boy wrapped in a knitted Christmas sweater made by your mom.

“I won’t be tired. I am not tired, I’m telling you! I am totally capable of bringing a couple of boxes from the garage and helping you with the Christmas tree,” he flashed you a smile as you put in the key and started the engine of your car.

The music was still playing softly in the background. Maybe it was a little too soft, because while you were focusing on the frozen (and dangerous) road ahead and keeping conversation to a minimum, Sammy was resting his head on the window and eventually fell asleep.

It wasn’t that much of a drive back home. Once you pulled in the driveway of the house you shared with Sam, you noticed him peacefully sleeping and smiled to yourself.

You didn’t want to wake him up, considering he was tired as hell, but you also knew that now, once you turned off the car engine, the car was going to cool down and sleepy Sammy was going to catch a cold, so you decided to turn the volume all the way up. All you had to do was sit back and observe with a smile in which was hidden childish mischief how Sam slightly jumped at the increasing volume.

“You know, you could’ve just called me, I wasn’t sleeping. I was just… resting my eyes for a little bit.”

“As you say, babe,” you answer him with an innocent look on your face as you reach over and peck his lips.

After Sam’s stuff was all inside and both you and him changed into way more comfortable clothes, Sam went outside, to the garage, as he promised, to bring inside a couple of boxes filled with Christmas decorations.

You watched him from the window in your living room. Snow was falling heavily, but it all seemed so peaceful. So quiet. You actually enjoyed when it snowed, you just didn’t like the aftermath of it – the frozen roads, the fallings on the sidewalk, those kind of things.

“Hey bud,” you heard Sam’s cheerful voice as you walked out the door, wrapped in a warm winter jacket and the same hat that you’ve thrown earlier on the backseat.

“Hiya Sammy,” you heard the voice of the little boy living next door. “You are back.”

“Yes, I’m back buddy, and I am going to be here for a while,” Sam smiled at him. Tod was the boy’s name. Tod’s ocean blue eyes brightened up as he heard Sam’s words. The two of them were like besties. On some summer days, they’d play football all evening and Sam would bring him to your home and show him some records or a certain tune and he tried to teach young Tod how to play the clavinet.

You were just resting against the door frame now, looking in awe at your boyfriend. You were head over heels in love with him and he never ceased to amaze you and warm your heart with his kindness, love and generosity. You were so damn lucky.

“Look Sammy, it’s Y/N!” Tod laughed loudly and pointed at you.

“Hiya Tod,” you speak to him as you move from the door frame, closer to Sam, right in front of the fence that separated you and the little boy.

“Tod, here you were,” you heard his mom’s voice, followed by a relieved sigh. “I’ve been searching for the little one over here for the past five minutes. Come on, we need to get to the doctor,” she spoke to you then to her son.

As they both waved you goodbye, you turned to Sam, whose face was half buried underneath a scarf.

“God, I love you so much, Sammy,” you speak up with a smile on your lips.

“Turns out that speaking to kids is such a turn-on, am I right?” he smirked and grabbed hold of your waist and pulled you closer to him.

“I guess it is,” you shrug and peck his lips.

“That’s all I get for being able to talk to kids?” Sammy pouts as he lets go of you and kneels, grabbing a fist of snow.

“No. Don’t you dare,” you whisper and you see the words leaving your mouth and raising up into the cold air.

“Oh yeah, I do dare baby,” Sam laughs loudly as he models the snow into a small ball and throws it at you. It hits you in the shoulder.

“This is war,” you laugh as you crouch and make a couple of snowballs and wait for the ideal moment to throw them at Sammy.

You had this snow fight for about half an hour. Both Sammy’s and your cheeks were red from all the running around and especially from the cold around you, stinging at any uncovered piece of skin. You were breathing heavily as you let yourself fall into the cold, yet fluffy snow.

Once the initial shock of the cold wears out, snow turns out to be kind of warm. Like a blanket. Sam falls next to you as well and you both start laughing as loud as your lungs allowed you. You didn’t get the chance to simply fool around and forget all about your duties for a long time now and this felt so damn good. Laughing, running, playing.

You turned your head and you looked at Sammy, who did the same thing.

“I love you, Y/N,” he spoke softly and you rolled in the snow over to him, in his arms. If the snow was so cozy, now you were even cozier, in Sam’s arms.

You spent a few more minutes like that, in complete silence, and afterwards you went inside and briefly washed your hair and dried it and Sam did the same thing.

“God, I am so tired,” Sam finally admitted as you walked out of the bathroom dressed in your Christmas pajamas and red socks with reindeers on them.

You smirked a little, knowing that you were right all along, but kept it to yourself though and decided to put on display a pout. “And I wanted to make hot chocolate and watch some Netflix.”

“Never too tired to that,” Sammy objected and pulled you in for a kiss.

“Great, you can start searching for the movie, I am going to make the hot chocolate. Want any gingerbread?” you ask as you rest your forehead against his.

Sammy hummed against your lips and once he pulled away, he jumped on the couch, underneath a tiny blanket. “I’m already on it, babe.”

Tags: @myownparadise96, @satans-helper, @jeordinevankiszka, @littlegeekwonder, @songbirdkisses, @pomegranatecurses, @umbriellethenightfall, @freeeshavacadoo, @karrotkate

#greta van fleet #greta van fleet fanfiction #gvf #gvf fic #gvf fanfic #sam kiszka x reader #sam kiszka #josh kiszka #jake kiszka #danny wagner #fanfiction #writing #christmas special

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linkspooky · 7 years

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Persephone and Phosphenes

A phosphene is a ring or spot of light produced by pressure on the eyeball or direct stimulation of the visual system other than by light. While the symbolic meaning of the title is not immediately apparent at first the heavy V14 parallels in the current situation, there is a parallel in Kaneki who had pressure specifically applied to his eyes by Arima.

What does this mean for Touka tough? Read under the cut below.

Which is a pretty iconic and well remembered scene from V14. It was even referenced again by Arima later in chapter 8. There are a lot of possible symbolic meanings for seeing a sudden ring of light. Rather than pick a specific one I am going to attempt to float them all. Light in the darkness, false light (and all that symbolizes, probably a false hope to attach to in a hopeless situation) your mind imagining light where it is not, light you only see with your eyes in the absence of true light. light seen after the darkness of being in the 24th ward for too long.

The image itself which preludes the poem depicts a nondescript woman standing in a darkened room where the light also obscures her face as well as most of the room. There is also a time code in the corner “17:09″ which indicates that this woman is likely being filmed by security camera. This, in line with the contents of the poem itself seems to suggest that the woman is being held prisoner. Possibly in a cozier room than most prison cells considering the room itself while bleak does not look barren.

That and the actual content of the poem, while the drawing itself looks like a long haired woman such as Rize, after reading the poem it’s most definitely Touka. From this point forward I am going to go forward in my interpretation that this poem is about Touka, and also hints that the next arc will likely feature a kidnapping rather than a death of Touka rather than holding her prisoner at the CCG.

The first sentence pretty much confirms that is it Touka.

If behaving like a god is a sin, even the act of creating life would be blasphemous. Wouldn’t doing this be mocking the gods?

(If behaving like a god is a sin), could either refer to Kaneki or Furuta, perhaps both. The two of them are elevated onto the same stage above everybody else as king, and the two of them both have been referred to gods of death before this point as well.

Touka then, as Kaneki’s female counterpart refers to her own act of creating life to be a sin. This references both her previous poem, that is extremely bleak about the process of creating life and parenthood in general. It’s even entitled ‘Her Womb Smelled Like It Was Burnt’. I wrote a meta on it here [x].

The children who were meant to be born, died. The vision of the future convulses.

[...]

“Did you know that our voice is the mixed voices from dad and mom? No wonder it’s so disgusting.”

There are a few other parallels between the two poems, so I’m going to continue to reference it. The fact that creating life for Touka might be forbidden also refers to the taboo that is creating life between a human and a ghoul.

Ukina is explicitly referenced as creating a miracle when her child is allowed to survive. Miracles are god’s domain after all.

Wanting to be judged, I entered the prison of my own free will. I play around with sludge in a silent room. “So you’ve come back again,” I was being cursed at with a timbreless voice.

The line heavily parallels another line from ‘her womb smelled like it was burnt’.

Sin is irresponsible. I’m getting tired of being forgiven. My shoulders have even forgotten about my legs.

‘I am tired of being forgiven’ and ‘Wanting to be judged’ are remarkably similiar lines. These are possibly referring to Touka’s own mental state post Anteiku raid, her feeling that she actually did deserve to be judged just as her world came crashing down on her the same way that Koma and Irimi were.

There’s also the idea of Touka entering her cage willingly which, I am going to be floating a few possible interpretations with this poem because I am not entirely sure whether the poem is meant to be figurative or literal, but in a metaphorical sense you could call Touka’s emotional repression and her tendency to over forgive her willingly walking into her own cage. Here is a meta about Touka’s emotional repression [x] and here is a meta about the tendency and symbolism of the 4th ward and it’s occupants willingly walking into their own cages [x]. I am going to reference both of these meta lightly, but try to stick to the main topic of the poem.

Touka has been pictured, being in a room with prison like doors before due to the bare nature of the 24th ward hideout’s construction. This could be a bit of foreshadowing as well as just a symbolic theme for that particular chapter.

The next passage is what I will build up most of my theory off of. The following passage, especially the italicized part heavily resembles ‘eat the food of the underworld and you are trapped there’ which is once again tied to the myth of Persephone being abducted to the Underworld by Hades, and then eating three seeds from the pomegranite and being forced to stay there.

That place was dazzlingly beautiful. I was starving to death, and then from when I was gnawing on someone’s body, that’s right, from that moment, it all became strange. There definitely have must have been poison in there. Only beautiful merely to the eye, and shit.

I don’t want to put anything in my mouth, I don’t want to hear anything. I don’t want to see anything, anything at all.

Tumblr user @floppyamon pointed this out quite a long time ago that V14′s events, a god of death coming down in a field of flowers heavily resembles the greek myth ‘The Abduction of Persphone’.

Especially since Tatara’s flashback reveals that all along, Arima’s intention in V14 had been to snatch away Kaneki.

The myth of Persephone and Hades begins as such. Persephone is shown playing in a field of flowers, oblivious, until the god of death comes to snatch her away. Persephone was a spring goddess of new life, who often gave away flowers quite easily.

It’s likely no coincidence that Touka is revealed to be the one giving away flowers, on the same chapter that Juuzou referred to as a god of death appears standing before her suddenly and unexpectedly in a flower field.

He’s also compared directly with the barely mortal Arima, which could either mean that he was on the brink of dying, or that he was immortal seeming and godlike, both of which connect to the idea of a god of death.

So we have the utlimate v14 parallel here, the god of death appears before Kaneki not to kill him, but to snatch him away. In E14 then, the real danger is not Touka’s death but rather her being snatched away by yet another god of death.

There is of course the second part of the Persephone myth. That once she is in the underworld, she cannot leave because she ate the food of the dead.

I was starving to death, and then from when I was gnawing on someone’s body, that’s right, from that moment, it all became strange. There definitely have must have been poison in there. Only beautiful merely to the eye, and shit.

In the legend Persephone is so upset at her kidnapping at first, she refuses to eat and drink. This is quite similiar to the way Touka has been starving herself and eating human food recently.

This also connects with a theory purported primarily by @midnight-in-town that Touka’s current method of saving the baby will not be sufficient, and eventually she will be introduced to either Itori or Kanou in order to help along her pregnancy. Which goes with my own theory of the clowns being the ones to interfere in the Goat raid and save it at last second when it seems that all hope is lost.

However, that is not the only possible path this could take. It could also be Juuzou deciding to call ownership rights on Touka and spare her, bringing her back to the CCG. Either route I say Touka will likely surivve, but be in the hands of the CCG by the end of this arc. This might even be our introductory to a sunlit garden arc and the full reveal of how exactly the Washuu were crossbreeding children.

As to the food of the underworld, it’s likely the CCG’s labs and resources will better be able to take care of the baby. Hinami made a reference to Soup, which is what the prisoners eat and likely what Touka might be fed eventually too after starving herself for so long.It’s also likely what Sasaki ate while he was in the CCG that gave him enough RC Cells to reverse the fast aging that turned his hair white.

If the CCG had the resources it would likely be able to feed Touka something that would be able to keep her child alive, but that’s also the trap in itself. If Touka would want to keep her child alive she would be unable to leave. Just like how Persephone was unable to leave the underworld when in she ate the fruit of the underworld.

Touka Kirshima’s associated tarot card is the high priestess. The fruit depicted in the background of the High Priestess card itself is the pomegranate, a reference to the Hades and persphone myth.

Place myself on a scale, along with the things being sold off, along with the ripped-apart bodies given away in pieces, along with playing by peeling off scabs, don’t, don’t.*

Throw away everything you don’t need out the window. It’s okay if you fall and die. Until the very end, lend your ears to just the sounds fading away.

Hey, how many things did you get that you wanted?

The last part of the poem is where I assume it becomes the most symbolic. The reference to throwing everything away, and giving body parts away piece by piece could be yet another reference back to the poem Her Womb Smelled like it Was Burnt.

Falling down, falling down. It’s as if right has become left.

And on the brink of collision, I recall Björk’s song,

As for a Bjork song, most assume that song is Hyperballad, the song played during the New Year’s livestream. The lyrics are a bit abstract, but basically it is about a girl throwing away things off a mountain, pieces of herself so she can be happy with someone else. At some point in the song she also considers throwing herself off of the mountain too.

Every morning I walk towards the edge And throw little things off Like car-parts, bottles and cutlery Or whatever I find lying around It's become a habit A way to start the dayI go through all this Before you wake up So I can feel happier To be safe up here with you

Which could reference of course, Touka’s completely willingness to forgive every offense that the CCG does unto her and her family, in hopes that she can live in peace like the promise of Anteiku originally gave to her. Consider how much already Touka has sacrificed for the world, her future amibitions at college, her job at Anteiku, not one but two cafes, and now at the moment her only small want is to have a child with the man she loves, her dreams scaled severely back as the two of them are not even living on the surface right now but even then the CCG had come from them. Which is what possibly the last line of the poem is referring to “How many things, did you get what you wanted?” For Touka then it would be nothing as she sacrificed everything and still had nothing to show for it. It reminds me of the despair in Tatara’s death as well. The CCG will take everything from you if you are a ghoul and they will never stop.

Which is what makes Touka’s insistence on humanizing and forgiving investigators so strange to me. Especially when she’s not really willing to see the moral gray in the situation represented by her own father Arata.

She can’t forgive her father, but she can forgive the man who stripped her father’s skin off repeatedly over the years and wore it like armor in order to kill her surrogate father and destroy her newfound place of home without really one shred of remorse or even seeing ghouls as human beings?

Shinohara was capable of a lot of things, but possible empathy towards ghouls was not one of them. It’s the same with Kuroiwa, they bought the party line too easily because it fit their lifestyles and they fit the frame of a CCG investigator too much.

This isn’t really about Touka’s own passivity and her over selflessness though, which is often something I write about, but rather her attitude in this. Touka has always been deeply ashamed of her identity of a ghoul, something passed on to Touka subconsciously from her father ironically enough. What Touka wants, similiar to what Kaneki wants is to blend into human society seamlessly, even to the point of self harm. In the sense of eating human food in front of Toriko even when she does not have to is an act of self harm, but also that discarding her identity as a ghoul is self harm in a metaphorical way, harm of her identity.

So it makes sense she would forgive Shinohara and see the complexity in his situation, but not her father. Just as in Kaneki’s mind, humans are just simply more human in her mind and more deserving of that complexity than ghouls. Which is where you get the irony in Touka and Kaneki’s mindset, that the two of them are leading a rebellion to destroy society, but what they want more than anything else is to be accepted and comforted by society, even to the point of conformity.

Touka’s never spoken about the ghoul world in a positive light or something worth saving. She seems incredibly uninterested with the rebellion of the one eyed king as a whole, and only invested in supporting Kaneki in it because he is Kaneki.

So that’s what this latter section of the poem is referring to, Touka’s own conformity, her offering up pieces of herself for society in the hopes that she’ll be more acceptable.

It could also refer to the revelation of the Arata armor.

Place myself on a scale, along with the things being sold off, along with the ripped-apart bodies given away in pieces, along with playing by peeling off scabs, don’t, don’t.*

What is described here sounds much like the making of quinques too. The way that ghouls and their dead are treated, like objects to be made and sold for the profit of the CCG.

It’s likely that both the sight of her father being worn as armor, and also Kanou treating her baby more like an object of scientific interest rather than a person could bring out a revelation in Touka that there is no reasoning with, and no forgiving certain things the CCG has done.

Ironically, it’s in her capture that Touka might finally realize that the cage is not something that can be reasoned with or made comfortable. It can only be destroyed.

#touka kirishima #suzuya juuzou #kanou #tg meta #meta #tokyo ghoul theory #tokyo ghoul meta #poetry interpretation

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my-happy-little-bean · 7 years

Text

92 things :)

Rules: Answer these 92 statements and tag people.

i was tagged by lovely @themessafterthemarty who is pretty lovely have i ever said that okay here we gooo

last:

1. drink: water, i think. how exciting. 2. phone call: my mum, who called me to listen to ‘tequila’ that was playing in wherever she was. what an angel :D 3. text message: her 💕 4. song you listen to: ‘supermassive black hole’ from muse ✌️ 5. time you cried: last night, heh #findgabbie’smentalstability2k17

have you:

6. kissed someone twice: yup and it was lovely 7. kissed someone and regretted it: i haven’t really regretted the kiss above yet, but i feel like i should (it was all consensual though; it’s just that we are both trying to move on and i c a n ‘ t) :’D 8. cheated on: i haven’t even in a position to be cheated on :P 9. lost someone special: everyone’s special in their own way (i want to keep @themessafterthemarty‘s answer because it’s really nice and i can surprisingly relate) 10. been depressed: no medical proof to back that up, but i would say what i have been feeling for at least 3 years or more has been pretty close :P 11. gotten drunk and thrown up: i haven’t gotten drunk, but i have thrown up multiple times in my life (i say that as if i should be proud of that lol)

list 3 favourite colours

12-14: pink, blue, mint green (all pastel because i have an a e s t h e t i c (or at least try to)

in the last year have you:

15. made new friends: i have :) 16. fallen out of love: more like fallen in love lolololololol 18. found out someone was talking about you: i mean, i am so popular. everyone is obviously talking good shit about me and not trash or anything because everyone likes me right of course right (i am kidding) (unfortunately( 19. met someone who changed you: yes, and i am v thankful for them :) 20. found out who your friends are: i mean, yeah. though no one has proven they aren’t a friend of mine because i like my friends (for now) (jk) (i hope) 21. kissed someone on your Facebook list: i has no fac-e-book

general:

22. how many of your Facebook friends do you know in real life: still no fac-e-book. 23. do you have any pets: two birds (chubby the third and skylar) and a dog named kiko ^-^ 24. do you want to change your name: not really, to be honest. gabbie’s pretty cool. 25. what did you do for your last birthday: i think i went to school, went out to fortinos with some friends and had potato wedges and red velvet cake, and lied down in my bed at home, doing homework, and ate cupcakes with my fam. also got a uke. good times :) 26. what time do you wake up: well as it is summer, i have been waking up later than i usually try to (6 am), so 8 am - 10 am-ish? 27. what were you doing at midnight last night: crying/sleeping. huh. 28. name something you can’t wait for: thomas sander’s part 2 to his newest sander sides video (because who leaves me on a cliffhanger on youtube how dare he) (kidding he’s amazing), but i can’t wait to be happy (aka never? i hope not) 29. when was the last time you saw your mom?: like, a few hours ago. she just went to work. 30. what is one thing you wish you could change in your life: my obsessive perfectionism. let’s just say that and carry on before this becomes 92 regrets :P 31. what are you listening to right now: there’s a tv in the background, and my sister is listening to “almost is never enough” on her phone. 32. have you ever talked to a person named tom: …have i??? *has a crisis* 33. something that is getting on your nerves: being criticized for my decisions and what i look like by my freaking family. like, seriously?? 34. most visited website: tumblr, youtube, or fanfiction.net. i am too lazy to check :’) 35. mole/s: i have been told the mole (is it a mole or a birthmark i am not too sure) on my arm resulted in my mum drinking a lot of bubble tea during her pregnancy, resulting in a tapioca-shaped mole on my arm, lol. i have one on my nose as well, and probs more, but those are my significant ones :P 36. mark/s: quite a few good ones. i earned ‘em at school. pretty solid tbh. (lol i have some body marks, i guess. depends what you mean by marks). 37. childhood dream: i wanted to be an author or a princess. one out of the two are still possible for me (tho ya never know) 38. hair colour: dark brown 39. long or short hair: short, but desperately trying to be dodie-esque short 40. do you have a crush on someone: yupppppppppppppppp. 41. what do you like about yourself: i am an strong advocator of human decency. i think that’s pretty good :) 42. piercings: just ears. not cool enough for any other ones (aka i am too much of a wuss) 43. blood type: my dad said my mum knows. i am too lazy to call her up for the sake of this, so je ne sais pas. 44. nicknames: gabbie is short for gabriella, but i also go by gabs, gabster, and really cool person, and trash can. 45. relationship status: single pringle. 46. zodiac: sagittarius 47. pronouns: her/she :) 48. favourite TV Shows: friends *claps four times* 50. right or left hand: right or left hand wot 51. surgery: never had one *knocks on wood* 52. hair dyed in different colour: i really want toooo 53. sport: never. of course not. why would i ever try to. dat’s hard stuff. (where is 54) 55. vacation: i like vacation! im on summer vacation rn, but not going anywhere extravagant soon other than ottawa, i think. 56. pair of trainers: wait wot do you mean sneakers idek know anymore

more general:

57. eating: what a good thing. i love eating. i just had spring rolls and rice and adobo flakes with an egg ✨ 58. drinking: SHOTS SHOTS SHOTS of water, 59. i’m about to: go pee. also i should be working on pbb, or at least some kind of writing. 62. want: my wifi back. stop being 90% used and just reset already. also happiness; or at least, satisfaction. 63. get married: “I mean, I need a partner in crime someday” @themessafterthemarty wins the award of being the most awesome 64. career: something in psychology or creative writing? who knows :P

which is better:

65. hugs or kisses: i might say kisses, but hugs are nicer and cozier and i can’t screw up a hug i think 66. lips or eyes: i like looking at eyes, but like eyes in general kind of freak me out. i like kissing lips? i dunno what even is this question 67. shorter or taller: a healthy mid-height. of whatever this means. 68. older or younger: what are you on about 70. nice arms or nice stomach: how do these become nice things every part of the body is nice i guess 71. sensitive or loud: like in volume or personality? be a lil’ more specific, game. 72. hook up or relationship: “you go from bros to hos, but like, good hos” @themessafterthemarty how are you not an motivational speaker yet 73. troublemaker or hesitant: if you mean which one is better, i would say hesitant. a little bit of hesitancy means careful, i guess. maybe that’s just me.

have you ever:

74. Kissed a Stranger: not a stranger, no. 75. Drank hard liquor: i like my water hard, ya know 76. Lost glasses/contact lenses: not permanently — contacts on the ground once they’re out and i can’t see = hell on earth 77. turned someone down: both close romances have turned me down i know that wasn’t the question but i crave sympathy 78. sex on the first date: you talk as if i am good at getting/having either 79. broken someone’s heart: i am not too sure. 80. had your heart broken: unfortunately it hurts more when you knew there was nothing to be broken 🙂🙃🙂 81. been arrested: of course not. 82. cried when someone died: i didn’t expect myself to, but tears was just an automatic response when my godmother died. 83. Fallen for a friend: unfortunately it hurts more when you knew nothing could happen with them 🙂🙃🙂

that was the worst game of have you ever ever my poor heart

do you believe in:

84: Yourself: not usually, lol 85. Miracles: “per definition this means divine interference and i just think any possible god is a bit too busy, the world’s just full of glorious coincidences” i am yet again stealing @themessafterthemarty‘s response it’s just too good. 86. love at first sight: not completely, no. 87. santa claus: OF COURSE I BELIEVE IN SANTA HE IS REAL 100% I WILL FIGHT WHOEVER SAYS OTHERWISE 88. kiss on the first date: not on a first date, no. maybe it’s because i have technically never had a social outing when both members of the party considered it a date.

other:

90. Current best friend name: sierra 💕 91. eye colour: like a black hole. or really really really dark chocolate. 92. Favourite movie: for now, i’m going to say la la land. mainly because i can probably watch it tons of times and still feel amazed by it.

i tag @evermoredeath @lovelylilaclester @troyescacti @lovelyfrankway @sleepyphanfics and anyone else who wants to spend time on these questions (you’re gonna have to choose what 54 is though because i dunno what it is) :P

#about me #aren't i interesting #i am forcing you to read this.#mwhahaha :)

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