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#i'm sick of looking at it and the joke is going to stop being funny if i do any more work on this
princexes · 5 months
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dream team
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snowsinterlude · 4 months
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melted snowflake.
(coriolanus x plinth!reader)
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summary: coriolanus never thought he would fall into his own trap. his plan wasn't falling for you. no, it was the contrary, he was supposed to use you. but god, you were so perfect for him.
based on this ask!
c.w: snow being a bit of a jerk, manipulation, jealousy, plinth reader x coriolanus snow, snow being head over heels with you, fluff (?)
you were a district girl, of course. your parents made sure to take that out of your head, but you couldn't simply forget about everything you lived in the districts. you were a child, but it didn't mean you were dumb or blind not to caught up on the things surrounding you.
the first time you saw snow was when your father met panem's president and left you to play on the kindergarden with your brother, sejanus. of course, it didn't go as planned when you were pushed away by a random kid and he protected you and your brother.
of course, after that, he never talked to you guys. a snow is not supposed to talk nor look at poverty with kindness. that's what his grandma'am taught him.
with this being explained, neither him nor his grandma'am expected your family to get richer than the snows, but after his father's death it was only natural they would be poor.
"y/n?" he approached you, now at the academy. he was a beautiful young man, often obtained your attention because of how much praise he recoeved from teachers and others. even though you were rich now, of course you wouldn't fit in as well as he did. not when you and your brother disagreed with everything the capitol kids stood for. "i'm sorry to interrupt you, but the teacher assigned us to do our assignment together." it was a lie. you could tell right away.
but why not see where he'll go with this?
well, that's what you decided to do. every lie he told you made you want to slap him from how dumb he seemed to think you were.
everyday you would caught him staring at you, at your eyes. stealing glances, stealing everything he could from you. hearing your voice was turning out to be the best moments of his days. but you knew deep in your heart that he was taking you for stupid. you were a girl, smaller than him, more soft looking than him, and he thought it was adorable.
but snow, being a snow, had something other than that silly feelings in his body. plans that didn't go as planned when you slapped his face hard, the red print kf your hand on his white skin being visible.
"hey! what are you-?" you interrupted him.
"look, i allowed you to go as far as lie to me about everything, even what others had to say to me. but i will not allow you to say anything about feelings, snow. this isn't funny. this is sick, and twisted. to think you want to have whatever i want so much that you would go as far as say you love me makes me sick." you said, and he blinked his eyes quickly, dumbly looking at you.
"ah, c'mon. don't look at me like that. you really thought i would believe you when you said clemencia hated me? man, she doesn't even know my name!" you kept going, and he gasped a feel times, his hand touching the place you slapped. "stop coming after me."
and you were gone, just like that. everything snow had planned for you both had gone down the drain while you walked away from him.
and after that, he tried to talk to you. he truly did. but you were always so far away from him, and when you caught a glimpse of him walking your way, you would always exit whatever place you were entering.
"man, what you did to the plinth girl? she's running from you like the devil runs from a cross." festus said, watching you exit the library the moment he stood up from the desk they were in.
"i don't know," he said, but he knew what he did to you. he knew he was wrong. and god, the ache he felt on his chest when he saw you laughing at a joke some body made to you was unberable.
that's when he noticed it. that's when he noticed he liked you, more than he planned to. you were supposed to be his accessory, his pretty ornament on the shelf, used when needed to. but now? ah, you had him at your bare feet and you didn't even knew, and if you did, you didn't care.
it was his fault, of course. he didn’t need to tell you that clemencia hated your guts, or that festus was betting that he could fuck you till the end of the year when you said he was pretty, or anything before and after that.
and thinking of that, he had a white bouquet of roses on his hand, provided by his grandma'am when he said he needed to apologize to the prettiest girl he had ever seen. mentally rehearsing his apology and what he would say, he didn’t even notice when he was already at your door, nervously knocking.
you were rich. why was it you the one who answered the door? god, if you were his wife in a near future, you wouldn't even need to move your hands to eat a grape and-
slam!
you closed the door right when you saw the white bouquet on his hand and the ashamed face he had on.
"y/n!" he called you, knocking on the door and pressing the bell of your house multiple times. it was so loud, so irritating, that you opened the door again.
"god, what the hell do you want?!" you asked, angrily frowning at him.
"you," he said. "please, i'm sorry. i-i didn't took you for stupid- you're actually the smartest girl i've seen in the academy, and the prettiest too, and i'm so sorry for being a douchebag to you but i wasn't planning on-" he stopped talking, gulping down.
"planning on what? being a jerk? a liar? a manipulator? a-"
"on falling in love." he said.
"there he goes again." you said, rolling your eyes.
"y/n, i'm serious!"
"prove me." you said, crossing your arms. and he fell on his knees at your feet, placing the roses delicately on your ground. "i'm sorry. i think love is a weakness, i am not used to feeling it- nor any kind of affection towards others but- i can't stand the sight of you, the thought of you being with anyone that isn't me, please-"
ah, how cute. anyone who saw coriolanus at your feet right now would be surprised, his grandma'am would go nuts, saying that snow's are supposed to be on top and not on the bottom of some district girl's feet. but he didn’t mind. he needed to do it. if being on his knees was the only way to get back at you, fuck it. he would be.
"get up." you said, looking away. he obeyed you promptly, eyes looking at you with hope. "that's your last chance, coriolanus." he nodded, almost falling on his knees to kiss your feet.
well, within the span time of seven months, you both were dating. but it didn't change much, coriolanus was always, and i mean always ready to get on his knees for you. he was a sucker for you, even if he was all high and mighty with others, with you, he was a melted snowflake. and he was fine with it.
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winkwonkwankwenk · 3 months
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Gojo Head-Cannons!! (SFW & NSFW)
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SFW
Has modeled a few times just for fun, definitely a Paparazzi-Darling.
Has a major sweet tooth. Will accept any snack if it's high in sugar. He keeps snack cakes and candies in his pockets at all times. He sulks when you make him eat a meal before dessert when the two of you are out, almost like a petulant child. "I'm eating this Spinach because I want to, not because you told me to- and definitely not because it's so fucking good..." He cheers up again the moment you cave and let him run to the chocolate fountain.
Loves traveling. He can't stay in one place long before getting angsty. He'll hop on the nearest train or plane the moment he sees photos of an area, not bothering to pack a bag- he'll just buy whatever he needs while he's there. "Let's go to Morocco tomorrow. Or would you prefer Dubai?"
Black card holder. He's got a couple of them. He leaves most of them laying around the house and has left them in public on occasion. Worst case scenario, he just has to get a new card. Perks of being wealthy.
Shopping sprees! Gojo loves going shopping, so the moment you ask he grabs his keys and runs to the door. Even though shopping was your idea, you end up regretting it. He drags you to every store he sees, making you wait as he changes in the dressing room. He always ends up with hands full of bags, mostly things he brought for you when you weren't looking. He surprises you with gifts as thanks for tagging along.
He has a skincare routine. Toner? Got it. Moisturizer? Got it. You actually use his products because hello- they're clearly working. He also gets his nails and toes done regularly and the two of you often have spa days together. You'll sip and sit, eating fancy wines and cheeses while gossiping. "Did you see what he wore? I would never."
Always scoops you up when it's raining and hides you in his jacket so he can use infinity to block the rain. "Can't have you getting sick." His cheeks are tinted pink when he says this, and all you can do is smile.
Lightweight when it comes to alcohol. A shot gets him tipsy and he makes the worst decisions when he's drunk. You had to stop him from stripping once, and from then on he's never took a sip without you being near.
Loves cuddling. In bed? Yes. At work? Yes. On missions? Hell yeah! Every chance he gets to have you in his arms he eagerly takes.
He's a gym rat. He'll invite you to work out with him and pout if you decline. Sometimes he'll do push-ups with you under him, kissing you every time he goes down. "What? Kisses are my reward for all of this hard work." He'll tease, and then drop down for another. He's seen and heard those audios you have saved, so sometimes he'll taunt you by saying your name each push-up to make that whimpering sound you seem to adore.
Can't cook for shit. He's burned water before. It's funny, the amazing Gojo can't do something as simple as frying an egg or making toast.
Clingy boyfriend! He'll spam call, text, sometimes even show up outside your door with flowers and your favorite sweet. It can be pouring rain outside and he'll still rush over, even as lightning cackles in the sky. That's just how much he loves you.
He's attached to your stuffed animals. You've caught him trying to sneak some out of your place to take to his. You end up caving and letting him take home one squishmellow, he coats your face in kisses after.
Gets jealous easily. He wants all your attention and when he sees you giving it to another guy he'll act nonchalant but really he's holding back the urge to purple-hollow the dude.
Loves dancing. He'll pull you up off the couch or in his arms and loudly blast your song. Your song- the one the two of you listen to all the time. "We'll play this at our wedding for our first dance," he always jokes...sometimes you wonder if he's joking.
He wants children. Whenever the two of you are on a walk and see a family, the children run up to him and beg to play. Something about him radiates paternal energy. The parents of the kids will aways apologize but the two of you laugh it off. "That's going to be us soon, y'know." He'll whisper into your ear before your walk resumes.
It gets...intense when the two of you argue. He's stubborn in his stance, even when it's debating who's turn it is to do the dishes. Part of the problem is he finds you so damn hot when you're mad, the other problem is how he can't take anything seriously. He always plays things off as a joke until he sees how upset you are, and then the guilt will eat away at him. He always apologizes first, accompanied by make-up-gifts. "I shouldn't have said what I did, forgive me?"
He gets overstimulated sometimes because of 6th sense, and you're the first person he calls when it gets bad. Your voice is enough to calm him down, but a kiss on the cheek doesn't hurt.
He said "I love you" first, even with a shaky voice he knew he had to say it then or he never would.
NSFW (Kinky stuff ahead)
Loves making out with you but especially in public. He doesn't care how it makes other people feel, he'll pull you into a sloppily kiss and suck at your lips until they're kiss swollen. Drool, lots of drool, because he's obsessed with the taste of your tongue.
The first time you pulled his hair he made such an embarrassing noise he hasn't let you do it since. On occasion, you manage to sneakily bury your fingers in it and give it a firm tongue. A strangled moan will spill from his lips and then you have about five seconds to run. Good luck.
Pussy eater. Ass eater. He loves your taste. He'll bend you over the kitchen table and eat you out until your legs shake and your juices puddle on the floor. He'll lap your juices up and hold them in his mouth, then let them trickle into your mouth as he kisses you. "Mmm…now you know how good you taste."
He's a switch, perfectly fine with letting you lead on days you want to. His favorite positions are reverse-cowgirl, doggy, and sixty-nine. He loves when you sit on his face, nothing turns him on more than having your pussy on his skin. He likes to tell you how good you taste, even when his tongue is buried inside of you.
Three rounds isn't enough- he needs days. If you can still walk when he's done then back to the bedroom you go.
Pink tip. His cock is roughly eight inches, decently thick. He knows how to use it, and that's what really matters. Cum flavor is sweet, what did you expect from a man who's diet is 90% sugar?
He's a foreplay fan, thus why he loves making out with you. He also finds it so fun to finger you, play with your clit until you squirt. "This is where you're weak right?" He knows all of your favorite spots and especially the ones that push you over the edge until you're a soaking wet mess.
He'll try anything once, several times if he enjoys it of course. That's why he lets you peg him on occasion. He's let you cuff him down to the bed a few times. He's even worn a maid outfit for you.
He likes cumming on your skin, leaving his semen sprayed on you like a glaze. He also likes watching you swallow, it makes him shiver because you do it so eagerly. He'll still cum on your face after.
He's a loud lover. The neighbors better hear, or else he's not putting enough back into it. He knows he's doing good when you're screaming and squealing and there's knocking on the front door. "Good girl, let them hear how good I make you feel."
Bomb make-up sex. Whatever the two of you were fighting about doesn't matter now, not when he's ramming into you and holding your legs behind your head. How are you supposed to be mad when he's fucking you senseless?!
Steals your panties and finds it funny when you find them at his place. You've lectured him about it hundreds of times but his only response is a smug smirk. "Come on, I'm serious! I don't know how they got here." and "You must've left them last time you came over."
Only pulls out because he knows you trust him enough to let him hit raw. "Can I pleeease cum inside?" He always asks when he's close, and always respects whatever decision you make.
Aftercare is mostly cuddles, kisses, and takeout from your favorite places. He'll casually go to the door naked, jumpscaring the delivery person but since he tips them double what the food costs they never say much besides thank you. He'll feed you, then bathe with you when you can walk again. He likes to wash your hair, put on your lotion, help you put on fresh pajamas, and then he'll tuck you back into bed. "Rest up," he always says before you drift off.
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teddybeartoji · 11 days
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thinking a lot of thoughts about bf!gojo :(
he will be the sweetest bf ever.. it's a bit concerning with how attached he is to you, bordering on codependency but he just cant help it he loves you too much :(( everytime youre both together on something like lunch with friends or hanging out the sight of you two is enough to give anyone who spares a glance cavities.. his eyes are so in love and hes always got that dopey smile on his face, his touch is always gentle and caring despite him being a teasing asshole sometimes 😭
and behind closed doors ... dear god this man is INSATIABLE.. always has to have a hand around you and touching you !!!! and his sex drive.. erm.. yeah.. idk i see him as the type to want to do it everyday because he just loves you too much and he doesnt know what to do with himself and all this love he has !!!! theres something sweet about him just always wanting you and wanting to make you feel good eufnhffhehrjfnf
the stark difference between you two being such a sweet couple in public but also .. having seen each other INSIDE OUT quite literally is so hot and cute.. :( that level of intimacy .. :((( BF!GOJO WE NEED YOU !!!!!! ok this has gotten too long im sorry HAVE A GOOD DAY THANK YOU
HIIII MY SWEETHEART I'M SORRY FOR THE WAIT!!!! BUT I'M HERE I'M HERE I'M HERE!!!!! I'M HERE AND I'M FEELING TERRIBLY SOFT FOR HIM AND I NEED TO HAVE HIM IN MY ARMS RIGHT THIS INSTANT!!!!!!! i agree with everything you've said nonnie!!!! and i am covering you in kisses as thanks!!!! mwah mwah mwah!!!! wait also!!!!!!!!!!!! more exclamation marks!!!!!! please please please don't apologize for rambling!!!!!!!!!! i will always hear you out!!!!! i want more actually!!!!!!!!!!!! please!!!!!!!!!!!!! i love you!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
ok everybody get comfortable bc i have some of bf!gojo headcanons for you!!!!
his pupils are literal hearts whenever he's with and whenever he's Thinking about you!!!! (i'm saying that his pupils are always like that)(he is simply unable to get you off his head)(he's not even trying)(he's so fucking in love with you).
he's constantly resting his head on your head or on your shoulder. this just came to me. he wraps his hands around your middle and he always gives you a squeeze!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! and a kiss on your neck. and he probably (read: definitely) smells you. and then hums into your skin. omfg i need to hug him so badly. i am losing my mind here nonnie...
okay and i just talked abt him taking naps with you too, right? and i just can't stop thinking about him always taking pics of you whenever you fall asleep on top of him:(((((((((((((( drooling or not, he's taking the pic!!!!!! AND i truly believe that he has begged (literally begged down on his hands and knees) shoko and suguru, so that they'll take pics of the two of you together aswell!!! satoru has a folder with like a THOUSAND pics of you both just napping together:((( he goes through it whenever he's really missing you:(((((((
ok and he loves taking showers and baths with you. loves, loves, loves. he just wants to sit under or in the water with you, just feeling your skin against him. feeling your heartbeat against him. he likes the intimacy of it all. it's so tender and so soft and so loving and he just wants to do everything with you. he's gonna take a fucking piss with you if you'd only let him.
he loves your smile sm. this is such a basic little concept but he does. nothing else in this sick world brings him as much joy as your smile and laughter. and oh my fucking god his heart feels like it's going to explode whenever he makes you laugh (which is all the time let's be honest he's very fucking funny and he is not afraid of making himself look like a fool just for you<3). he loves it when you laugh at cat videos, he loves it when you laugh at whatever the fuck is playing on the tv and he loves it when you laugh at a joke one of his friends make!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! he goes a little insane whenever he sees you having fun with his friends:((((((((((((((((((((( it just means the world to him:(((( and you and the younger ones too!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! omfg when he sees you coddling gumi and yuuji and nobara:((((((((((((((((( stop, he literally feels like he's going to cry every time i am also crying i can't do this anymore
btw he always swings your hands whenever his fingers are interwiened with yours!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! ahhhh!!!!!!! and he has that big dopey smile on his lips again and his dimples are showing and he's laughing so loudly that everybody is turning to look at you both on the street but you couldn't care any less!!!!!!! how could you when your boyfriend is making your heart grow twice the size it was before and you just feel so giddy and so full of love and you want to kiss him stupid!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
he loves spending his morning with you. i actually think of him as more of a morning person actually idk how popular that concept is but yeah. don't get me wrong - he refuses to let you up from the bed for at least an hour after you wake up but he does have a lot of energy. he wants to kiss and he wants to hug and he wants to tickle and he wants you to play with his hair and he wants and he wants and he wants and you will give and give and give!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! he's a little lovesick puppy and he needs your attention like he needs air!!!!!
and then he wants you to brush his teeth for him. yes. you read that right. he sits you down onto the bathroom counter and bares his teeth at you like the puppy that he is and HE'S SO FUCKING CUTEEEEEE FUCKKKK CUTENESS AGGRESSION IS SO REAL I NEED TO JUST SQUEEZE HIM A LITTLE AAAAAAAAAAA I NEED TO PINCH HIS CHEEEKS!!!!!!!!!!!! he still looks sleepy and his smile is so fucking big and his hands are resting on your hips, his thumbs are drawing hearts into your skin. and he most definitely kisses you before he actually rinses his mouth.............. and then laughs when the toothpaste gets all over you. it's a mess and he's laughing and you're in love.
he loves it when you baby him. he does ask for it as a joke but when you genuinely do it he gets a little flustered. the tips of his ears always turn into a shade of dark pink and he's looking at you like puss in boots. you know what i'm talking abt. big eyes, fluttering eyelashes - he loves you so fucking much. he loves it when you tuck him in bed, he loves it when you kiss his nose, he loves it when you pinch his cheeks i am biased i just said i want to do that don't look at me, he loves it when you tickle him!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! WAIT STOP HE LOVES IT WHEN YOU TICKLE HIM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!! HE WANTS YOU TO STRADDLE HIM AND TICKLE THE LIVING FUCK OUT OF HIM HE WANTS TO LAUGH WITH YOU!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! i died
he also loves it when you cling to him. in any way. hands around his neck, around his body, around his arms - it does not matter. he wants you to quite literally climb him like a tree. he loves it when you snuggle into him and when you refuse to let him go. and when you hold his hand and try to stop him from leaving. he's not going to go. it doesn't take a lot for him to give into you. he's folding immediately. he doesn't want to go either. he loves it when you're needy. he loves it when you whine. he loves it when you tease him. he might pop a boner. at everything you do. he just loves you sooooooooooo muchh!!
18+ HE IS INSATIABLE!!!!!!!!!!!!! HE IS THEE LOVERBOY!!!!!! i think he does like to get a taste of you every single day, no matter whether it's actually having sex or it's eating you out or it's just making out or it's entertaining you with his beautiful slender fingers or it's dry humping etcetcetc. he wants to touch you, he wants to feel you - it's a must!!
i already said it but he loves intimacy!!!! like yeah ofc he likes his freaky sex as much as the next guy (he most definitely likes it more than the next guy) but he loooooves when he can just be in the moment with you!! he's always savouring you - holding your hand when his burying his dick deep inside you, he's snaking his arm around your body as he grinds into you from behind. he's licking and nipping at your skin because he just can't get enough of you. he's sucking on your tongue, he's pressing your hips down against his, he's kissing every fucking inch of your body. i truly think he wants to eat you and he wants to devour you and he wants to merge the two of you together forever<33
okay i have officially melted away... i am a puddle of love Goo... ily nonnie
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nwjws · 6 months
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while you were sleeping - pjs
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; PAIRING - jay x gn!reader
; SYNOPSIS - in which you’ve had the same album on repeat, unable to get it out of your mind. just like how jay, your roommate, can’t seem to get you out of his.
; WC - 1.4k (minus the lyrics)
; TAGS - college roommates au, fluff, from jay's pov, based off laufey's 'while you were sleeping' ; WARNINGS - not proofread
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i still can't believe that you noticed me
mindlessly scrolling on your phone, you patiently wait for your roommate, park jay, to finish cooking up some breakfast. a comfortable silence has settled between you two, with the only sounds being the sizzling oil on the pan and your humming.
"you've been listening to the same 14 songs for the past week."
"what?" you ask, looking up at him. you stare at his back, broad shoulders exposed by his tank top.
he turns his head to look back at you over his shoulder, raising a perfect eyebrow. you realise then what he's saying.
laufey had released a new album last week, and you literally haven't played any other song outside of it since it dropped. you can feel jay judging you, but you just shrug at him. you were definitely not stopping.
"so what if i've had bewitched on repeat? can you deny that they're good?" you challenged him.
"no, of course not," he chuckled to himself, turning back to the pan. "i'm just surprised you haven't gotten sick of it yet."
"i would never get sick of laufey," you say with mock offence.
"alright, then," he said with a teasing undertone.
you wanted to retort, but he placed a plate in front of you, making you forget what you were going to say.
"hey, you have a later clinical today, right?" he asked as you two dug in.
"mhm."
"take the box i left in the fridge with you before you go then. its some extra lunch i made so you'd have enough energy to get through the day."
"thank you," you say appreciatively. "you really don't have to do that every time i have a heavier day."
"well, if i have time to, then i don't see why i shouldn't."
"what about you? what are you doing today?"
"my professor cancelled class today, so i'll go check out if i can bother heeseung or jake."
"i'll pray for whichever victim you choose, then," you joke.
"maybe i won't make you extra lunch next time," he pouted playfully.
"no, no. those actually really help me. god knows if i didn't score you as my roommate, i would have passed out several times by now."
"grateful to be of service"
after breakfast, jay lounges around the apartment as you're getting ready. some show plays on the tv, but it doesn't drown out the sound of must be love playing from your speakers.
you shout your leaving when you exit the shared apartment, and jay wishes you a good day. he watches you close the door, leaving him completely alone.
i'll never forget the first time i saw you then
when he drives to the shopping centre with jake later that day, he pauses mid-sentence when he realises something.
"is everything good?" his friend asks.
"yeah, i just recognised the song playing."
"really? you listen to from the start by laufey?" jake asks. he had decided to connect his phone to jay's carplay, and had been in the one in control of the playlist.
"not really, but my roommate does."
"y/n? that's pretty cool. they've got good music taste," he replies.
"they've had her newest album on repeat since she dropped it," jay laughs, eyes on the road.
"do you find that annoying?"
"of course not, it's funny seeing them prance around the apartment, belting their heart out," he laughs at a memory of you singing at the top of your lungs. "i guess i'm more of a second-hand listener now? if that's even a thing."
"probably," jake shrugs.
a light pink bouquet, a promise you'll stay and i start to believe
the two had decided to eat out at wagamama's first, before anything else.
"i think i'll get the pad thai," tells the waitor, who nods and notes it on his ipad.
"hm, i'm feeling like trying the grilled chicken ramen," jay says. "oh, could i also get the miso mixed vegetable salad to-go?"
"sure," the waitor replies. he pockets the small device in his apron, and leaves for the kitchen.
"you ordered another meal?" the younger asks curiously.
"me and y/n go here often. of course, i had to get them something. usually, they'll go for the typical miso salad, or some curry, but they've decided they wanted to try being vegan recently. so i got the vegan one," jay explains nonchalantly.
"wow, you really care a lot about them, huh?"
"of course, we're sharing the rent, after all. have to be a good roommate, otherwise they'll leave and i'll have to pay the bills on my own."
"maybe i should get a roommate," jake chuckles. "but i don't think i'd be able to get someone like you."
"i'd feel sorry for whoever ends up with you," jay teases him. "and anyway, they're a good roommate. they do the laundry for the both of us, and we usually spend the weekends cleaning together."
"you guys are so lucky," is all jake says.
i don't recognise myself ; who've i become?
jake dragged jay into their third clothing shop that day, despite jay's protests. in self-defence, jake whines about needing some new shoes.
"don't you have like, thirty pairs? what could you possibly need another one for?"
"actually, i only have twenty-eight. and i need one for graduation, of course."
"right, because none of your almost-thirty pairs suffice," jay rolls his eyes.
"don't act like you dont have seventy pairs of the same polo shirt."
"i don't!"
"i've seen your closet, don't lie to me."
jay sighs and leaves jake to wander around the shop on his own.
"there you go again, buying another shirt," jake's voice sighs from behind jay fifteen minutes later.
"not for me," jay shakes his head. he turns to show the clothing piece to his friend. "for y/n. this is definitely their style, and it'll fit them so well. they have a pair of shoes that are this exact colour, so it would be good outfit if they sandwhich it with any bottom piece they choose."
"you think a lot about your roommate," jake raises his eyebrow at him.
"i see them all the time, why wouldn't i?" jay asks.
"no, like, you think too much about y/n considering you're 'only roommates'," he says with a quote gesture.
"stop suggesting weird things," jay walks ahead to the counter, leaving jake to follow behind.
"is it really so weird, though? if you like y/n like that?"
jay just ignores him, and pays for the shirt. it's not, he thinks to himself, because it's not a new thought either.
i trace it all back, 3:30 am that night something turned in my heart
"thank you, jay," you hug him when he shows you what he got. "you really need to stop buying me things."
"i can't help it," he smiles. "when i see something that reminds me of you, i just feel like i have to get it."
"with how often you buy me things, i'd say a lot of things remind you of me, huh?"
"seems like it..." he scratches his nape, awkwardly avoiding eye contact with you. thanks jake, he scowls in his mind. now he can't stop thinking about what he said earlier.
you and jay decide to watch a movie the next night, since it was a friday, and neither of you had to be up early the next day.
but jay couldn't focus on the tv when you two were basically cuddling under the shared blanket on the sofa. his skin prickled where his arm hung around your shoulder, and the weight of your head on his made him feel light and airy.
the warmth of your body seeped through your clothes, and brought him immense comfort. your sweet scent filled his nose, subconsciously recognising it to be one of the perfumes he'd bought you.
it was only when the movie ended he realised he hadn't been watching at all. and neither were you, if your light snores were any indication.
he huffed amusedly to himself, and shifted on the sofa to get you two in a more comfortable position, actually lying down. reaching for the remote, he carefully switched off the tv, leaving the only source of light to be a soft, warm yellow coming from a corner lamp.
jay stared at your features, illuminated by the dim light. he realised right then, in the comfort of your arms, far into the night, what he felt for you.
while you were sleeping, i fell in love.
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; AUTHOR'S CORNER! do u guys ever feel like throwing up at your own work? ALSO THANK YOU FOR 200 this is my offer of thanks 🤭
; TAGLIST - @lovelovelovebts @miyseung @babyy-bambii
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munson-blurbs · 11 months
Text
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Mailman!Eddie x Reader
Here she is, folks...the mailman!Eddie fic my weird lil brain conjured up. Big thanks to @eddiemunsonsmum for giving me the idea to turn this into an actual story.
Summary: Your mailman keeps delivering love letters to you. You're determined to find out who could be behind such a mean prank, but Eddie doesn't make it easy.
WC: 1.1k
--
If someone told you that you’d be waiting for the mailman to deliver a love letter from a secret admirer, you probably would have laughed in their face. If they told you that you’d be waiting to confront the mailman about these love letters, you would have dismissed the notion completely, perhaps with a slight flick of your middle finger.
And, yet, here you are.
“Morning!” Eddie chirps, holding out a stack of envelopes as he climbs the three stairs up your porch. His navy shorts hit right above his knees, leaving his lower legs and their dusting of brown curls exposed. He adjusts the mail sack so the weight is more evenly distributed across his back. You place your glass of iced tea on the snack table in front of you, wiping the condensation from your palms. He has a smile on his face, as he always does when he sees you, but it falters when he notices the frown on yours. “What’s going on? Something wrong?”
You bite back a scoff, taking the mail from his grasp. Sure enough, there’s another one, smack dab in the middle of bills and junk mail. “Yeah, something’s wrong,” you hold up the envelope, unable to mask your irritation. “You keep handing me these stupid notes, and I need to know who’s sending them.”
Eddie blanches, cheeks flushing a deeper pink that can’t solely be attributed to exposure to the summer sun. “Wh-I just deliver the mail,” he stammers, taking a small step back. “I don’t know who—” 
“Save it, Eddie,” you snap, feeling the heat of anger blooming in your cheeks. “There’s no return address; there’s no stamp. Which means that someone is giving you these to bring me, and it’s not funny anymore.”
“Funny?”
You sigh impatiently and roll your eyes at what must be feigned incompetence. “Look, it’s obviously a prank. Who’s going to send love letters to me?”
The hurt and anger in your voice catches him off-guard, and he nearly slips off of the step as he starts backwards. “I, um, I don’t know, okay? They’re just in the pile and I-I gotta finish my route.”
The remainder of Eddie’s shift is filled with him silently chastising himself. 
Way to go, Munson. You try doing something romantic and she thinks it’s a prank. Just tell her how you feel. Stop being a coward and ask her out already. She’s been nothing but nice to you, not like the rest of the people in this town. 
You’re not home in the afternoon again until the following Saturday, and you’re in the same position you were before: standing on the porch, anxiously awaiting the mail. Well, anxiously awaiting the mailman. You hadn’t received any of those fake love notes since you’d last spoken to Eddie, but you couldn’t stop thinking about them. Who would be so cruel to tease you like that? It was middle school behavior; something you’re far too old to be dealing with.
Eddie ducks his head as he hands you the mail, wanting nothing more but to hide behind the curtain of curls that he has to keep tied back on hot days like today. If he could just escape without having to–
“Are you gonna tell me who’s slipping you those notes now?”
Shit.
He peers up at you, barely able to make eye contact as shame settles into his cheeks. “No one’s slipping them to me,” he mumbles, tucking his lower lip between his teeth.
You throw your hands up in the air before resting them on your hips in complete exasperation. “Seriously?” you balk. “How many times do I–”
“No one’s slipping them to me because…” he pauses, massaging the back of his neck with trembling fingers. “...because I'm the one writing them.”
The information crushes you like a boulder on your chest. Eddie was behind the prank this whole time? Was this some sort of sick joke between him and his mail carrier buddies? “You?” you choke out, eyes stinging with tears. “Why would you do that? I thought we were friends, Eddie!”
“We are!” he tries to reassure you, but you shake your head in disbelief. Small towns always had an overabundance of small-minded people, but you’d never thought that Eddie was part of that group.
“Well, friends don’t screw with each other’s feelings and write fake love letters for entertainment.” You cringe at the way he’d probably seen your face alight with excitement the first few times you’d gotten a letter, thinking that maybe someone actually harbored romantic feelings for you. But when months went by with no prospects in sight, your outlook became increasingly cynical.
Eddie’s jaw drops at your accusation. “They’re not fake,” he tells you, keeping his tone soft but insistent. “I like you…a lot…but I was too afraid to admit it.” He exhales, grateful to have confessed his feelings but terrified to see your reaction. “I thought the letters would make you happy, but it looks like I royally fucked that up.”
His words ring in your ears. I like you…a lot. Eddie Munson likes you a lot. Likes you enough to write you letters about how he thinks you’re beautiful, that your smile brightens his whole day, that he could listen to you tell stories about damn near anything for hours on end and never get bored. The man with the chocolate-hued eyes who gave you butterflies every time he was in your vicinity–flutters that you’d tried your best to ignore, because how could someone so handsome and sweet ever be into someone like you?
You let your gaze lock onto his, though your vision is still a bit blurred from your earlier surge of emotion. “Almost royally fucked it up,” you gently correct him, taking a few steps forward to meet him where your walkway met the porch stairs.
Eddie barely chokes out a “Wha–” when you pull him closer by the strap of his mail bag, pressing your lips to his and kissing him like he’s only dreamt of being kissed. Your fingertips of your other hand tangle in the locks of hair that have already slipped from the ponytail; his land on the small of your back as though they’ve always resided there. You two melt into each other, only breaking apart when you realize that Eddie still has a job to do–one that doesn’t involve making out in front of your house.
You’re at work on Monday when Eddie delivers the mail, still thinking about the taste of your mouth on his. When he opens the mailbox to place the stack of envelopes inside, a bright yellow handmade card catches his eye. 
Two can play this love letter game. Picnic at Skull Rock after your shift?
--
617 notes · View notes
luveline · 1 year
Note
omg jade!! this just popped into my head but do u think u could write smth ab roan gettin a tinyyyy bit jealous when reader gives attention to another kid? pls feel free to ignore if u dont like it hehe j smth i thought ab! ily!!
this request is from october I'm so sorry it took this long, thank you for requesting, ily ♥︎ fem!reader
Eddie’s friend Gareth has two kids. 
Twin boys, they hang off of him one to each arm and might be the cutest kids you’ve ever seen that aren’t Roan. One is much, much cuddlier than the other, and when he climbs into your lap you really, honestly can’t say no. He’s practically a baby still, two and half years old and chatty without real words. 
When he strokes your face with your hand, you look over his little head at Eddie where he’s sitting at the same picnic table and pout at him. 
“You want one?” he asks, raising his eyebrows. 
You rub the back of the baby’s head, hand stroking over fine, sandy brown hair. “Stop it.”
It’s a very cheeky joke considering you and Eddie haven’t been together that long. And besides, you think he might have his work cut out for him with his own baby girl, he doesn’t need another right now. 
Said baby girl has taken to holding your hand basically everywhere you go. You adore Roan and if she wants to hold your hand whenever she sees you, it’s an improvement from her wanting to always be carried. She’d been holding your hand five minutes ago before she proclaimed her need to pee. 
She emerges from the house and into the garden with her little hands dripping and Eddie beckons her over. You can hear their hushed conversation as he wipes her hands dry with his t-shirt. 
“Did you flush?” he asks quietly.
“Yeah, daddy.”
“Did you wipe the right way?”
She looks a little embarrassed, and then that embarrassment gets eaten by Munson rage. “Yeah, dad.”
Eddie only laughs. “Okay, alright. Thanks, mini me. Kiss for a job well done?”
Roan gives him a quick kiss and then throws her gaze to you. You watch what looks to be excitement shrivel up and dissolve into dust, her eyes widened and then pinched with hurt. 
“What’s the matter, baby?” you ask, hand splayed over the small back of your newfound charge. 
She doesn’t talk to you. Roan turns on her heel and climbs straight into Eddie’s lap, small thighs either side of his waist and face falling into his t-shirt. He’s as confused as you are, dropping his face down closer to hers and murmuring something too quiet to hear. Her tiny black bunches bounce as she shakes her head. 
He tucks a loose curl behind her ear. “Tell me, sweetheart,” he says gently. 
Roan pushes her face deeper into his chest and sighs. 
You’re at that stage of knowing and loving Roan where all of her upsets still feel huge to you. Eddie, having experienced her change in emotion every single day of her life, is much less affected. Not any less loving, or any less caring, but he doesn’t get so stressed. He pats her little back for what’s left of his friends garden party, and you say goodbye to your clinger when it’s time for their nap. 
“Let’s go home, should we?” Eddie asks gently, forehead tapped against Roan’s. 
She grumbles irritably and Eddie picks her up, her face quickly hidden in his neck. When all the goodbyes have been exchanged you follow him back to his car, nibbling your lip intermittently. Roan isn’t prone to being quiet like this unless she’s sick or tired, and it’s hours from bedtime, so she has to be sick. 
"She's not warm," Eddie tells you. 
"Do you feel sick?" you ask her anyways, not because you don't believe Eddie's capabilities as a dad, but for your own peace of mind — you don't like worrying about Roan. It gnaws at you. 
She doesn't speak to you. In fact, she doesn't speak to you for hours. Not when you get home, not at the dinner table, and not during cartoons before bed. She doesn't hug you goodnight, and that's when Eddie gives a knowing, amused snort. 
"What?" you ask, pulling your gaze from her retreating back to him. "What's funny? Your baby doesn't like me anymore, this is the opposite of funny." 
"She's just jealous." You scoot away from him. He pulls you back in with an eye roll. "Not of me, dork. Of Henry." 
You blink. "Gareth's kid?" 
"Yes." His head lolls lazily to the side, and his smile is more a smirk than anything else. "Come on, sweet thing. Use your brain." 
You would glare at him if the cogs weren't turning in your head. "Well, what do I do?" You stand up. "I gotta say sorry." 
Eddie catches your hand. When you look at him, he shakes his head. You love and hate how smug he is as a dad, how he simultaneously knows all the answers but has to call Wayne at least once a week with some whacky question. 
"What?" 
"You don't have to say sorry to her for hugging another kid, just… explain that she's your favourite." 
"She is my favourite." 
"I know."
You look down the hall and then back to your boyfriend. "Will you come with me?" 
"Always." Eddie gets up, and you hold hands all the way to Roan's bedroom, though the slim hallway makes it difficult. 
He knocks on Roan's door. "Babe?"
"Daddy?" 
He pushes open the door. Roan isn't sleeping, she usually doesn't until Eddie comes in to tuck her into bed and kiss her goodnight. She's sitting by the bottom of the bed with her big paper sketchbook and a crayon in hand, but she hasn't drawn anything yet. She drops the crayon and looks up at you both suspiciously. 
"Y/N wants to talk to you. Do you wanna sit in the bed together?" he asks her. 
She nods. Too soon, Eddie's pulling his hand out of yours and scooping Roan up deftly, and he climbs into her tiny princess bed with little hesitation. She looks small in his lap. 
You sit gingerly opposite. 
Eddie gives you an encouraging smile, worming his thumb into the palm of her hand. 
"Roan," you start, awkward because Eddie's listening, hesitant because you don't wanna mess this up. You decide to go for the straightforward approach. "You know you're my favourite girl, yeah?" 
She glares at you. 
Not what you'd been expecting. 
You try again. "I… I love you very much. Like, so much it squeezes out of me when you hug me, and you gotta push it all back in for me." 
An inkling of a smile appears. She loves that game, and she's stronger than she looks. It really does feel like she's squeezing all the air from your lungs sometimes. 
"And-" You continue, prompted by Eddie's voracious nodding. "And even though sometimes other boys and girls want to give me a hug, none of them ever give me hugs as good as yours. I just want you to know that your hugs are my favourite." 
Roan leans back heavy into Eddie's chest. He kisses the top of her head unthinking, lips hidden by her dark brown curls. 
Then, his lips move down to her ear, and he says, in his professional parenting voice that's all soft and warm, "I know you were unhappy when Y/N gave baby Henry a cuddle, but just 'cause she gave him a hug doesn't mean she can't give you one too. And ignoring people isn't something we like to do, is it?" 
Roan frowns at him. "But she was holding my hand first." 
"I know. You gotta share her, though. Like right now, you're in my lap, and Y/N isn't complaining. Maybe she wants to be in my lap, or maybe she wants you in hers." 
You take the queue. "I miss my goodnight hug," you say, hands moving forward. You pout at her. "Please, Roan."
You wouldn't force Roan into a hug if you didn't think she wanted one. You're right, thankfully, and Roan stands up, wobbling across the mattress in her pink pyjamas and straight into your chest. 
You curl your arms around her too tight and send Eddie your most thankful, loving look as Roan snuggles your neck. 
"Missed you, princess," you murmur, hand creeping up her back to play in the soft ends of her hair. 
You hug. Roan turns to mush, boneless, limp, every word for it, putty in your hands. Eddie had told you once that he thinks she likes your hugs because you're so soft. 
He wiggles his eyebrows. "Think about it," he whispers. "You could have two of her. Three." 
You close your eyes so you don't have to look at him, flustered but so happy you end up laughing. 
"Kiss?" you ask Roan. 
She nods. You cover her in kisses, every inch of her perfect face. 
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goldsbitch · 4 months
Text
That second flight
part 4 to That one Christmas flight
summary: What happens when people stop lying to themselves? Sometimes, you get a good night out of it.
warnings: cheesy af, swear words and alcohoI guess, cliche probably, typos most definitely
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Do not fuck it up, do not fuck it up, do not fuck this up.
Hey you? What kind of a message even is that? Ugh. She ruined it. Now she will have to move away and start her life again.
The weather forecast predicted high levels of overreacting for today.
He must have liked the cool girl vibe she somehow gave of on the plane. Y/N prayed for the gods of cool vibes to bless her again.
Lando was just about to start an interview for Sky Sports when he received her message. He imagined this was how it felt to win a podium. On the top of the world. He gave an absolutely charismatic, energetic and funny interview. One that would surely create lots of gifs on the socials. PR manager even high-fived him when they finished. To be honest, he could not wait for a moment of solitude so that he could reply.
"hey" he started. "so I broke the rule, ups" Her reply came instantly.
"I've noticed. But then again, you radiate speeding tickets vibe from miles away. So no surprise."
He smiled, well aware of how efficient the Italian ticketing was running.
"paid one last week, so you got me there" "so, how's your cool student life going?"
"Trying gain some wisdom, as people just feel free to call me dumb on social media these days."
"compliments come in a variety of forms, don't discriminate"
From now on, there was no way back.
//
The next few days consisted of constant texting. Joking around, sending pictures capturing their daily life - both of them keeping in secret that lots of the information shared was nothing new. They were careful, somewhat distancing themselves from any real deep topics. But, days felt like blur, waiting for the next text to come and somehow managing to live the real life in between that. Y/N stayed in most evenings, almost making her friends concerned.
It did not take long enough for famously patient Lando to getting sick of it. They had a week between the next three week round of races. It was now or never. He missed one chance by being mr. mysterious, so mr. direct it was now.
"so, lady. what are you doing this weekend?" he asked out of the blue.
"I dunno. Probably studying, I guess."
"well, you're smart enough, you can skip that. let's meet up."
Y/N pretended to herself that she was second guessing. She headed out, to the bar where her friends were hanging out before they planned on heading to some faculty party. She felt joining them suddenly. Sat quietly, listening to their usual chit chat. Her charade lasted about seven minutes.
"Yes. Let's." she texted and threw her phone deep down to her bag. She was nervous, heart racing and mind quite not catching up yet.
"I need to tell you guys something," she interrupted them and almost demanded immediate attention. Questioning looks followed. "Uh, so I met this guy on a plane. And I'm gonna see him again this weekend."
Saying it like that, she realized that it was all kind of real and that she probably could not explain it in words how bizzare it all felt.
"Aw, that's cute! Tell us more!" Teresa clapped excitedly, the whole weird vibe surrounding her friend making more sense now.
Y/N expected her friends to be more shocked. "Um, yeah. It's just this guy. I don't really know how it's gonna happen, but yeah."
"Is he coming here? Can we meet him?"
Y/N kept the information that they already did to herself. Just in case she is left stranded alone and disappointed.
"I don't...I don't know actually. Yeah."
"We will do as we always do - sharing location and staying by if needed, honey."
Y/N missed a text notification. "great. i'll fly you out to somewhere where we can be alone, not to sound too creepy."
//
She landed an hour after him. Lando sent a picture of him waiting at the airport cafe.
He booked the best hotel room he could find. Well, technically he booked two rooms. Just in case she wanted to keep her distance or if by any chance he fucked up so royally, that she would refuse to share space with him. At least, he could walk away from this like a gentleman.
Since she last him, she forgot just how hot this guy was in person. Seeing him, sitting casually sipping coffee and glued to him phone, she took a moment to study him. It was as if he was tailored specifically to her taste. His clothes covering his godlike body, not too muscular but enough for the sight of his arms sending her to different dimension. The origin of her audacity she had to be the first one to talk to him on the plane was unknown to her. There was no more panic left in her body, as she had done nothing but panicking the whole flight.
She walked and sat opposite to him.
"Hey," he smiled.
"Hey yourself," she replied. There was a moment of awkward silence. Turns out there was a bit of panic left in Y/N after all. Last week she though she'd never see this guy. And now she was staring in his eyes.
"Do you want some coffee?," he asked innocently. He looked her up and down, excited to see her. All of his worries he refused to acknowledge were gone. After all, she got up and flew here just to hang out with him. The reality of this filled him with confidence.
"Yes. A small tiny espresso with no milk."
"Great. Let's grab that and hit the road."
Lando's car might have as well run on butterflies alone present in his vehicle. There was absolutely no way for him to drive some random rental car, so he called up McLaren people to provide him one for the night. It came up in the same conversation when he requested personal time off. Both things came to a certain level of surprise, as he had never done this before. Y/N knew she had to work on a group project for one of her minor classes. Just like him, she had done something she would not have dared - and completely ghosted her group for this weekend.
"You look nice, btw," he commented casually.
"Well yeah, when you're not on an overnight flight across half of the world wearing airport attire, it makes thing easier."
"Hm, I would say sweatpants have some magic to them."
It was hard for Y/N to get the image of him out of her head.
"So, where is my lovely kidnapper taking me?"
They discussed prior to this that the vibe they would like out of this was a casual dinner and then finding the shittiest club possible and have some fun, trying to remain as private as possible yet within the vicinity of the small Italian city.
"My assistant found this lovely little place in the centre. Don't get mad, but I had him completely book it out. You know, the privacy thing," he said with more insecurity than one would expect.
Y/N picked up on that and tried to lighten up the mood. It seemed a bit excessive to do that, but he probably knew what he was doing.
"Your assistant," she gagged over dramatically. "Jesus, am I not worth enough for you to google on your own? Mr. Busy man. Was he also the one who found me online them?" she joked?
"I'm sure I'd have to hire a special person to that if I planned on outsourcing it."
"Creep."
"You love it."
And she did.
He parked in front of the restaurant, without a care for the world.
"So you're telling me we're making a big deal about keeping a secret that you're here, yet you decide to park like a proper asshole?" she remarked while he opened the door for her. Jokes were making her focus on something else than the fact she was falling for him too hard.
"Oh, you're going absolutely hate my plan," he laughed as they were entering the full on empty restaurant.
"Wow, look at that. I invited all my friends!" he whispered to her ear before addressing the owner.
"Hello, you must be Dario?"
This Dario person smiled brightly at him. "Ah, mister Papaya!" Lando nodded and Y/N rolled her eyes. Dario then started speaking Italian without a care of the world. Language wise deaf Lando did not count for the fact people just did not speak English in this part of Italy. A tiny crack in his plan. What was he suppose to do, call Carlos? But, Y/N having spend a good year or two studying there was there to ease the situation. She whipped out her B1 Italian and greeted the man. Dario's happiness filled up the room.
He seated them and immediately brought local red wine and giving a long talk about where this wine was from and how his grandma used to pick up the grapes herself and how the notes did this and that. Y/N tried to translate at the beginning, but Dario looked like was ready to give a TED talk. She started to loose the grasp of the story, which Lando observed. And like good gentleman he helped her out. No, of course not, when he saw her getting lost, he put on a super interested face and asked about seven follow up questions. Y/N was super annoyed. The kind of annoyed that creates a smile on your face.
When this showdown finally ended, Y/N nearly gulped the wine down. "So rude, Dario just said, you're suppose to sit it and let it roll," said Lando and with too much affect sipped his wine. "Aah," he took a deep breath and the bit his tongue. Y/N stuck her tongue out completely like a five year old child. "Yes, I can your red tongue, that's also one of the reasons why you sip it."
They sat, talked and laughed. He seemed genuinely interested when she blabbed a little bit too long about her latest projects. And then he asked her for a feedback on his latest merch, which by sheer coincidence included lots of photos of him. It was hard to admit how much he enjoyed the idea of her looking at him.
"So, um. I'm not sure I understood Dario correctly. But it looks like he insists on getting us the local speciality," she said hesistantly.
"Well, only if his grandma would approve. But why is this strange look on your face?"
"I must have gotten it wrong. Because burnt pasta just sounds wrong. If I wanted that, I could have stayed and have my roommate cook for us."
"Hm, that is an interesting idea." Lando pretended he did not know her roommate's name.
Once Darion brought out the burnt pasta, the couple had a hard time not to laugh.
"When in Rome...well not in Rome, but you get the idea."
"Why is this good?" Y/N proclaimed with her mouth full to the limit.
Lando laughed. "Ah, we have a lady at the table, I see. I mean yeah, I am not supposed to be having pasta now, but this is so weirdly good."
They finished their strange pasta and the bottle of wine. Said goodbye to Dario, Y/N tried not to think on how much it cost to close a restaurant down.
"Wait, what are we going to do about the car? We can't drive now."
"Not to sound like a complete asshole, but I'd like we remove the WE from any sentence including driving now at the beginning, if that is ok. And like I said at the beginning, you're gonna hate this."
"Go on, Lando boy. Tell me."
"Yeah, the car was provided by my employer. And they really need me, so I'm just going to leave the car here to get towed and inform them later."
"Jesus, why!"
"Well, I figured we'll get a taxi in the morning. I want to enjoy all the time I have with you. Dealing with the car is not on the menu today."
There was nothing for Y/N to reply. She was having too much fun to be thinking.
They found what seemed to be the shittiest bar playing 80's and 90's songs, weirdly colored lights swinging out of the rhythm and with people there consisting of old papas and few probably underaged kids. They brought their own wine bottle from Dario, Lando paid 100 euro for two glasses and for the bartender leaving them alone. It did not take long for Y/N to break out to the dance floor. Lando watched her clumsy yet somehow elegant moves for a moment, before he joined her. They danced, as if they were the only people there, laughing and completely ignoring the looks they were getting. And to the tones of remix of Brother Louis, they kissed again. And this time, they kept kissing until late hours, hand roaming around each other, as if they were two teenagers making out for the first time.
part 5
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Tagged all those who like to suffer: @prudyhoo @anuksunamon @sagestack @esquerkaren @ushygushybaby @ilove-tswizzle @thehufflepuffavenger1  @superlegend216 @mehrmonga @lovely-blackinnon @mylifeihate1029 @lausdigitaldiary @tswizzleismother
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thelonelyempath · 1 year
Text
Hospital Prompts
1. "I know it hurts, love. You'll be okay."
2. "Don't ever scare me like that again."
3. "I'm right here. I won't leave you."
4. "Are you laughing because the joke I told was funny or because you're high on pain meds?"
5. "As soon as I heard what happened, I dropped everything and rushed over here."
6. "Wake up, baby...please..."
7. "I don't know what I would do if I lost you."
8. "Easy, babe. You're gonna pop your stitches."
9. "You know I try my best to be all big and tough for you. But when I saw your lifeless body in that hospital bed, I couldn't stop myself from breaking down."
10. "Hospital food is gross." "I know, but you need to eat something."
11. "When you didn't wake up, I honestly thought the worst."
12. "You hit your head pretty hard."
13. "The call button's there for a reason, sweetie."
14. "Seeing you like this hurts."
15. "I'm gonna die here."
16. "I know you hate hospitals, honey. But this is really the safest place you could be right now."
17. "Please tell me that isn't your blood on your shirt."
18. "Come on...stay with me..."
19. "Can you hear me?"
20. "How bad's the pain right now?"
21. "In case this is the last time I get to say it, I love you."
22. "I'm watching my partner/spouse fight for their life right now, and you're seriously upset because I didn't return one phone call?!"
23. "Is there really nothing you can do? Surely there has to be something..."
24. "Sit still. Let me sign your cast."
25. "I love you. I love you more than anything else in the world. You are the one and only love of my life. That being said, you need to be more careful."
26. "Does it look bad?"
27. "Do you need me to get you anything?"
28. "You're squeezing my hand too tight." "I'm not letting go. The thought of losing you scares the shit out of me."
29. "What have I told you about getting into fights?" "They were talking shit about you!"
30. "You have to let them help you."
31. "I'm not that sick!"
32. "Still hurts, huh?"
33. "I was so worried about you!"
34. "I can't see anything."
35. "I'm not leaving until they kick me out."
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killersfool · 6 months
Note
hii! not sure if you’re open to requests but i’m going to give u a few ideas! most of these are for elijah hewson😭
falling asleep on the couch, waking up to not only a blanket around them, but eli squeezed in behind them
being in the studio with the band and messing about?? making jokes and being silly!
kissing and dancing in the kitchen to an old singe they both like?
eli taking care of you when you’re sick and just being super soft and caring!
spending valentine’s day together!
something about the reader playing with eli’s fingers to calm them down?
softly smiling at each other from across the room and also reassuring touches!
telling each other how much they love them
them cuddling in bed and pulling eachother closer
hope these spark your writing :))))
Kiss It Better | ELIJAH HEWSON
here's a short little thing inspired by this request!
PAIRING: elijah hewson x f!reader
WORDS: 1.5k
SUMMARY: eli's girlfriend is ill, elijah comforts her.
GENRE: hurt/comfort, fluff
WARNINGS: references to throwing up
I've never been so ill in my life. My nose is so runny. I've almost used every single packet of tissues in the kitchen cabinet right under the sink — which used to be a lot and now is very little. I've thrown up my insides into the loo way too many times to count on my fingers. Bent over the toilet, eyes pricking with tears, I've never felt so useless. At least the thought of my boyfriend getting back after his gig gives me something to look forward to. But it's far too late.
I'm staring at the TV screen. I hug my knees to my chest, attempting to generate some warmth. The blanket is upstairs — probably hiding in the space between the bed and the wall. Surely, if I attempt to stumble upstairs now, I'll just get stuck and end up falling asleep in the corridor.
I can't stop glancing at the door. I'm hoping for a doorknob twist, knock, ring of the doorbell, stamp of boots, low and raspy post-concert voice. But I'm just met with nothing. No signs of his arrival. He hasn't called me. He usually doesn't. He likes to surprise me. After having the worst migraine of my life, it would give me some comfort if he just gave me a hug. A warm Elijah Hewson hug would cleanse my mind.
Starting to realise that the TV is doing more harm than good, I switch it off. I'm beginning to see blurry triangular shapes and my eyes burn like they're on fire. The living room is pitch black. I'm freezing. I'm tired. I take two paracetamol tablets and chug some water. Curling up on my side, legs on the armrest, I close my eyes.
-
I wake up. Sunlight gleams through the gaps in the white curtains. My body is wrapped in a duvet, soft and warm. Skin is against mine. Arms are around my body, squeezing me tightly. He's shirtless. I can tell by the tufts of chest hair flicking at my shoulder. His head is on my back, curls all over my skin, lips between my shoulderblades. I don't want to move. I don't want to speak. He's asleep. Gentle snores, deep breaths, in and out.
I must've fallen into a deep sleep because I have no recollection of his arrival or him ever taking me upstairs. I'm usually a light sleeper. This migraine fully knocked me out. That's the best nights sleep I've had in a while. I'm especially thankful I managed to escape from work for the rest of the week.
Elijah's normally the little spoon when we hug like this. It's funny how the tables have turned. I think I prefer this though. But lying awake and tracing the muscles in his back always seems to calm me down.
I want to ask him how the show went and the reason for his tardiness. He had been playing in Glasgow, thankfully only a few miles away from me and had bought me tissues, chocolate and gave me an endless supply of kisses before he had to run down to meet the band.
Opening my eyes fully, I take a peek over at the bedside table. He's brought me more tissues, face masks, more chocolate and a box of sleep teabags.
I realise Elijah's awake when his fingers start to walk along my bare stomach and his mouth is at the juncture between my back and shoulder. He pulls my hair to the side, presses his wet mouth to my neck. He smells clean. I'm sure he's showered. His hair feels a little damp.
He keeps pulling me closer. Arms tightening like he's a boa constrictor. Cool rings on my stomach, large hands tugging at the waistband of my shorts.
"You feeling better?" He asks, between kisses, tongue tracing my jugular vein. It's unsettlingly nice. His words are always gruff the morning after the show. All the singing takes a toll. Makes him sound more mellow. Sometimes I worry for his vocal cords.
"Not really." I groan. A mind-numbing headache is still prodding at my brain and the brightness of the sun makes my eyes burn. He's got a hand on my forehead, cool fingers against fiery skin — checking the temperature.
"God, you're pale. And you're burning up. I should get the thermometer." He gets out of bed. The loss of weight of his body makes the mattress shift. I glance over at him. His hair has stuck up at the top, his bare back glows under the sunlight. He stands up. Sweatpants cling loosely to his hips, revealing the muscles of his abdomen and a chain circles around his neck. He leaves the room — not even giving me time to utter a word of annoyance at the sudden lack of touch.
Then he's back. He crawls into bed. The thermometer is between his index finger and thumb. I look at the cross tattoo on his palm, see the concentration on his face as he plays around with the buttons.
"It's just a migraine," I say but he's already turning it on and pointing at my mouth. I roll my eyes and separate my lips. He gives me a sly smirk, just making me sit like that for a moment. Then he puts the device beneath my tongue and waits patiently. I'm trying not to laugh at how awkward this is. I close my eyes to evade his gaze but I can still feel the force of his stare.
"You've got a fever." Dr Hewson alerts me with his expert diagnosis although the furrow of his brows makes him seem unsure. He looks down at the numbers displayed, rubbing his face with worry. "A really bad one." He's now searching up on his phone what it means.
"Should I go to the doctors?" I shuffle away from him. I don't want him to catch what I have. He has gigs all week, I don't want to ruin anything for him.
He notices my movement. Shaking his head, he drags me back towards him, making me nestle into his chest. His eyes are still darting along a website.
"I think you just need to rest. I'll make you breakfast." Elijah kisses my nose before running downstairs with his mind set solely on making some decent food.
Through the corridor, into the kitchen. He's forgotten where half the things are in the room. Opening cabinets, searching through the fridge, putting water into the kettle. Most of the time he'll get his breakfast on the way to a show. Maybe a café, maybe he'll steal some food from Ryan. Today, however, he's lucky enough to not have a gig and actually have time to look after his girlfriend. Although he's definitely going to make a mess of the place.
His final decision is to make omelettes. Oil on the frying pan, ham—leaving it to heat up until it's a little crispy. Two eggs, cracked and swirled in a glass. Cheese on top, grated with masterful excellence—at least that's what he believes. Folds it over to make it fill half of the pan. Let's it continue to fry. Then he's running over to make a cup of tea. He uses one of the sleep teabags he bought. He's just about to plate up when footsteps echo behind him.
I have to stop for a second when I walk into the kitchen. It's a rarity to see Elijah here, cooking for me. We started dating at the beginning of the tour which unluckily means that he's hardly ever home. He has to leave early in the morning and gets back really late. Whenever he has days off, he takes me on dates and walks, or we just laze around at home, basking in eachother's presence. There's times when he brings me along to the recording studio so that I can reprimand all the band members or give an outside opinion of their new songs.
Elijah seems so focused on getting this omelette perfect. He's running around the place. He grabs two pieces of bread to turn his dish into an omelette-sandwich. I stand in the doorway for a while, just watching him. But, I can't stop myself from nearing him. As he cuts an apple into a slices, I slide my arms around his stomach, pressing my head to his shoulder. He sighs quietly. I breathe in his scent, his comfort.
"You should be in bed," he whispers, although he doesn't seem to want me to let go. I shake my head as he looks at me.
There's music playing on the radio. I turn it up. It's a song by The Smiths. I'm swaying to the beat, moving Elijah along with me. He's still carefully chopping fruit into perfect pieces. Watermelon, strawberries, mango. My mouth is watering just looking at the vast array of flavours.
Elijah drops his knife, turns around to face me. His hands find my waist, his lips find my neck, his head burrows into my chest like he's a mole hiding under soil. We dance along to the crackle of music, feeling the melodies trickle into our bones. Just his presence makes me feel better, every kiss turns my negative thoughts to mush.
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petalsscribbles · 21 days
Text
20. confession (final)
Yn can't fight the ugly emotions off. The doubts, jealousy, heartbreak at the thought of Heeseung leaving him for someone else. For someone better.
His clock ticks on the white wall as he waits in his room for Heeseung. He tries to act okay, to savour every last moment of Heeseung's affection he can before he ultimately gives it to another. But he feels like a ticking bomb. How long can he put his facade up? How long can he pretened before he breaks?
Well, turns out it only took next 20 minutes for him to explode.
Heeseung finally arrives and Yn lets him in. He raises the plastic bags in his hands. Fried chicken and beer. He kisses his cheek as he always does and asks about his day. Yn lies that it was fine, as if he wasn't stalked by the shadow of his own lack of confidence. In himself and in Heeseung's affection towards him.
"So, what do you wanna watch this time?" Heeseung asks.
"I picked last time. It's your turn." Yn answers.
"I know, but I'd rather watch something you want." He smiles and Yn breaks. He can't do this anymore. The gentleness, love, he can't handle it anymore knowing it's going to be teared away from his grasp.
"Heeseung, I think we should go back to being friends. Normal friends." Yn states decidedly. Heeseung's smile falls and his eyes widen in shock. He only needs to take two steps to reach Yn and grabs his arms as soon as he does.
"Wha-what are you talking about? Why do you want-" His eyes are desperately searching Yn's, trying to figure out where is all this coming from, if this is some kind of sick joke.
Yn shakes off Heeseung's hold and takes a step back.
"I'm not an idiot, Heeseung. I know you're planning to leave me soon."
"I'm not! Why would you even think that?" Heeseung defends.
"You've changed Heeseung. You got into therapy, stopped smoking and so much more. Possibly other things I don't even know of. You're obviously trying to impress someone and honestly it's fucked up that you keep messing around with me while you like someone else." Yn argues, trying hard to keep his voice steady and eyes tearless.
"Yn you got it all wrong!" Heeseung says, once again invading Yn's space. Yn takes a step back. This repeats twice until Yn's back hits his door and he has no choice but to listen to Heeseung's pleas.
Heeseung cups Yn's cheek with his left hand, making sure he can't look away while the other rests on his shoulder.
"You're the one I like." He whispers and Yn's jaw might as well hit the floor with how shocked he is. Heeseung uses his speechlessness to continue. "When you first hung out with Soobin, I was jealous out of my mind. I realized how perfect he is for you. You should be with someone like him, but the thing is, I'd rather die than let anyone else have you. So, instead of lashing out or giving you up, I decided to be the man you deserve."
Yn's mind is in shambles, unable to form a single coherent thought. The only thing is Heeseung's words echoing in his head.
You're the one I like.
Heeseung sighs and rests his forehead on Yn's.
"This isn't how I wanted this to go. I had a whole romantic confession prepared with gifts and written speech and stuff."
Yn can't fight off a laugh bubbling from his throat. He's not sure what's so funny - his own stupidity, Heeseung's sudden confession or just the whole situation in general. Either way, he's happy.
"Heeseung, I don't need you to be perfect. To be honest, all I ever wanted was a tall, reasonable guy that doesn't use Axe products and knows how to parallel park." Yn starts and it's Heeseung's turn to laugh. "You shouldn't go back to smoking and you definitely should keep going to therapy but other than that, just be the perverted hooligan i fell for."
"Alright." Heeseung agrees and kisses Yn. "So we're boyfriends now?"
"Yeah we are."
Yn's friends are going to lose their shit when he tells them about this, but for now he's just going to enjoy Heeseung's warmth.
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a/n: Welp, that's a wrap on Bad Habits. I hope you had fun reading as much as I had making it. Thank you for all the comments, likes and reblogs and I'm sorry if you think it's too short. As you already know, I have another enhypen smau in mind (so far it looks like it's gonna be Jay) but I'm gonna take a little break first.
I hope this little silly fic made you laugh and that you might come back to it on a shitty day :3
Until next time <3
taglist CLOSED
taglist: @nootnootpinguuu  @kkurbys @bubblztaro @monstaxpuppy @xavi-in-kpopland @starchasing-cryptid @hwalleluja @pinxeajin
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melanieph321 · 10 months
Text
Ruben Dias x Reader - The Houseguest Part 3/3
Had so much fun with this request!🤣
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Summary - A three part series where the reader and family goes on a chaotic holiday with Ruben as their guests.
Enjoy!
"You good?" Asked Ruben as he passed you on his way to the bed.
The ceiling in your suite was starting to look quite majestic from where you lay on the floor.
"Yeah I'm good." You said. "The room has finally stopped spinning."
"I mean are you sure you're good sleeping on the floor?" Ruben peaked over the edge of the bed to look at you.
"I like feeling grounded." You smiled.
There had been a bit of vomiting and a bit of plotting to kill your own brother for trapping you on Ruben's uncles boat. But eventually your sea sickness seemed to be tamed.
"Would you like some company?" Ruben asked. He had been so patient with you, holding your hair whilst you emptied you stomach down the toilet drains. He even offered you his shirt to sleep in. Yours was stained in whatever it was you had for lunch.
"If you don't mind girls that smell like vomit." You said.
"I don't mind."
Pillows were thrown from the bed to the floor. Along with the other half of the bed mattress. Ruben pushed it together with yours in order to lay next to you.
"You really should stay away from me Ruben. I'm a mess and I'll make a mess out of you too."
"Good thing my mother taught me how to clean after myself."
You stiffend feeling his hand brace your arm, but relaxed when he only went to cover your exposed arm with his duvet.
"You're a real gentleman." You sighed. Sleep was beginning to appeal to you and the sooner this day ended the sooner you could get off this boat.
"Y/N, can I ask you something?" He said as the two of you lay in the dark.
"Sure."
"That guy out there, with your sister."
"Tomas?"
"Yes him. He isn't really your ex right? That was Bernardo being funny right?"
"If Bernardo ever had jokes like that." You sighed. You felt Ruben shift beside you, turning to look at you.
"So he is your ex. Now together with your sister."
His eyes were big, wide with shock. You didn't realize how bizarre your situation sounded until he put it like that.
"Like my brother said, we're a fucked up family."
It was a natural reaction to run your hand through Rubens hair. It was bunny like and fluffy. You didn't even realize that you were doing it until you felt Rubens hand find your waist under the covers.
"Want to make them jealous?" He said, lips close enough to caress your own.
"Ruben." You smiled. At least he seemed to be into you. But the fact you just lost 2kg vomiting was even off putting to you. So you told him this and he laughed.
"I don't think it takes much to make them jealous though." He said, letting his weight shift onto to you, pressing you down a bit.
"Ruben." You gasped. His lips attached to your neck, sucking the tender skin.
"Trust me." He groaned.
You could hear your heart beat raise as blood rushed to your ears. Ruben was pacing himself though, not being eager in a way that frightened you. But eager enough for you to understand how much he wanted this, how much he wanted you.
Soon night became day and you wondered how you ever got off the boat without having slept with Ruben.
"Baby, I want to go shopping."
"Now?"
Bernardo's girlfriend seemed to have the energy of a toddler. The boat had just docked at Portimão marina and your family was more than ready to get out of the city and back to the villa. Even Bernardo seemed slightly out of it, perhaps exhausted from the lies he's had to put up with. But then again he claims to have found the the love of his life.
"Sure baby, let me just go get the car." He turned to your family and shook his head. "Help me." He mouthed.
You laughed. "You must sleep where you lie brother."
"We'll meet you back at the villa son, have a barbecue before we leave tomorrow." Your dad gestured for everyone to get into his car. Ruben had to stay behind and make sure that his uncles boat got handled properly. You wondered if he'd be back for the barbecue later tonight. He must. It would be your last day together.
"What is that?"
The peaceful breakfast at the villa lasted very shortly.
"What?" You said, mouth full of toast.
"That. What is that?" Anita threw your hair over your your shoulder. Revealing your neck for everyone around the breakfast table to see. There were split reactions.
"Oh meu amor." Your mother said, a bit disappointed with you. "You only just met the boy.
"What?" You said, still oblivious to what they were referring to.
"Dad. I told you she would do this." Anita cried.
"Ruben is a good kid." He said, cutting into his pancakes, wanting to go on about his day.
It wasn't until you caught Tomas glare that you understood that Ruben must have left a really visible mark on your neck, making it look like you two had the time of your life last night.
"Y/N. Have you no shame?" Anita said, spitting crumbs onto the table.
You shrugged. "I just did whatever any wife would do to her soon to be husband."
"Y/N, please." Your mother hissed. There was a gulping sound, followed by Tomas having to dunk his chest not to choke on his breakfast. It was pure chaos. Chaos that you enjoyed.
"Okay, I admit it. I might have over did it this time."
"You think?"
Bernardo brought the steaks for the barbecue that night. Your family had a laugh about his own reflection of the previous day.
"Why can't you just try to be yourself around this girl?" You said.
"Oh please." Anita chuckled. "Nobody likes Bernardo for who he truly is."
"Thank you sis. Love you too."
The night went on but you couldn't stop yourself from asking the aching question, "Where is Ruben?"
"Huh?"
Bernardo and you got a moment to yourself by the grill. With him loading meat onto his plate and you anxiously hanging over his shoulder, wanting answers to your question.
"Where is Ruben?" You repeated, with more confidence this time.
"Oh. Ruben. He went home."
"What?" Somthing within you faltered.
"Yeah, said there was an emergency."
"But..." Your lips trembled and you couldn't help but to feel a terrible sensation of having lost somthing that you just found.
"Oh, wait." Bernardo stopped you from running away and searched for somthing in his pocket.
"A piece of paper." You frowned. The corners were stained with oil from Bernardo's fingers.
"It's from Ruben. He told me to give it to you."
"Oh."
You withdrew to the poolhouse to read it. It was just a note with a phone number written on it, Ruben's phone number. The message he had scribbled down below was of no comfort.
Had a good time meeting you.You know where to find me in Lisbon.
"How cute." You chuckled. No wonder he and Bernardo was such good friends, you thought. They were both...you couldn't come up with a word for it, but it had to do somthing with being foolishly loveable.
"Is that from him?"
You jumped. "Tomas?"
Had he followed you to the poolhouse?
"Is that from him?" He asked, eyes dark in the night. His gaze shifted from your face to the crumbled up note in your hands.
"Y...yes it's from him. It's from Ruben." You hated that you felt like you owed Tomas an explanation.
"It's not like you, you know." He took a step forward, approaching you.
"What isn't like me?" You frowned.
"This." He pointed to the note in your hand. "And that." He said pointing to the sore mark still visible on your neck."
You finally understood what was going on and you couldn't stop smiling because of the way it made you think of Ruben.
"What's so funny?" 
"You know, I don't think jealousy suits you very well." You said, he looked pathetic.
"Oh come on Y/N. The guy was cleary out to get into your pants and you let him, just like that."
"Even if I did, how is that any of your business?"
"Y/N. I still care about you. I always will."
"Well can you please care about me a little less and please tell Anita to do the same."
"Y/N please. What must I do to make you understand that I still care about you and only want you to have the best?"
"And by the best you mean not Bernardo's friend Ruben."
"Yes." He sighed as if you finally got his point.
"Hmm, you could take a dive?"
"I could what?" He frowned.
"Take a dive." You smiled and stepped forwards to give him a light shove into the pool.
He returned to the surrface coughing, clothes soaked from top to toe. "Y/N!"
"My bad!" You slipped into the poolhouse, laughing to the point of your stomach hurting.
Ruben leaving early was a shame. But now that you had his number you could always text him.
You: I'd love to meet in Lisbon 😉
Ruben: Great! Just tell me when and I'll be ready for you.
You: Cool. As long as it's not on a boat 😅
Ruben: Don't worry. I have other plans for us.😜
You: Oh, let's hear them then?
Ruben: Hmm.. I'll let your imagination run free instead. Perhaps then you'll be excited to see me.
You: I'm already excited.
Ruben: Yeah?
You: Yeah.
Ruben: Well then, guess I'll see you sooner than later then?
You: Maybe you will.🙈
Ruben: Goodnight Y/N.
You: Goodnight Ruben, see you soon.
Ruben: Can't wait.❤️
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sugurufic · 2 months
Note
What are your thoughts on the reader and teen nanami attending an improv comedy show…
Oh this is so interesting! I am not funny, like at all, so please don't judge my terrible jokes T^T as always, its not proofread
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Nanami, Haibara and you had a lot of fun planned for the weekend, but Haibara had to return home to his family. His sister had gotten a bad fever and he was worried sick about her.
So you and Nanami still went about the plans, going to the mall for some shopping and to the city center to eat, and then return to your respective dorms. The two of you hadn't hung out much without Haibara, his absence weighing you down. With Haibara it was easy to ignore how Nanami's presence made you feel, but now it was practically impossible, with him walking beside you in the mall, dressed in normie clothes.
"Hey ma'am, hey sir!" an attendant at the mall greeted you cheerfully. "We have a free of cost improv comedy session going on, would you care to join us?"
You have always loved improv comedy, watching videos on the internet, but you've never seen one in person. Besides, how bad could it get? It's not like you were wasting any money this way.
"Nanami, can we go, please?" you plead, batting your eyelashes at the blond man, who doesn't even argue.
"Thank you for joining us!" the attendant yells behind you.
"I really hope that it doesn't turn out to be a waste of time," Nanami says as you sit beside him. The room still has some empty seats, but it's a great news that there are people to see a new comedian.
"I don't think it will be," you say, scooting a little closer to him as the air conditioning sent a shiver under your skin.
The empty seats fill up quickly, and the lights are dimmed, waiting for the comedian to take the stage. You are unfamiliar with the man who comes on the stage, viewing his audience with a smile on his face. "Hey everyone! Thank you for being here. You really are helping me convince my parents that maybe I can pull this comedy thing off," He starts of with a jolly voice. "You know, after I wasted four years of my life on an engineering degree."
You chuckle, having heard something similar from plenty of comedians. the man looks over his audience, eyes flickering to a stop to someone on the other end of the room. "Oh, I have a young crowd with me. I really hope you don't get influenced by me. it's not my fault if your mum slaps you with a slipper for not wanting to go to college."
"How old even are you?" he asks the same person. "That young! Now I will feel guilty about making the jokes I had planned." The man shakes his head. "Anyways, you know I am not entirely upset that i did college. I now have more things to make jokes about. Anyone who did CS and now everyone is suddenly asking them to fix computers?"
A surprising number of people raise their hands, and you chuckle once again. Nanami fixes his bangs beside you, trying to hide his rolling eyes. But you know him too well to know what he's doing.
"My parents forbade from speaking to the opposite gender all throughout school. And now that I'm an engineer by degree, they want me to get married." He sighs. "You are too young to understand this. How many of you have partners?" a good number of people raised their hands. "And how many of parent's know?" most hands went down.
The comedian's eyes fall on the pair of you and he asks Nanami, "Hey, blond guy! Is that pretty lady your girlfriend?"
Your face heats up and you can barely look at Nanami, who has gone pink. "N-No," he manages to say.
"Your face tells me otherwise," the comedian laughs. "For those of you who cannot see, Mr. Blond Guy has turned red. The lady seems flustered too. You two did come together, right? Or did I just embarrass two strangers sitting next to each other."
"We go to the same school," You manage to say, despite your flustered state. "And we're friends."
"Miss, maybe you should ask blond guy. He seems very shy." the comedian chuckles.
"I don't think I'm her type," Nanami mumbles in a small voice, and you give him the biggest side eye you have ever given to anyone.
"Judging by the lady's reaction, I'd say you are wrong, buddy." the man laughs. "See people, please tell your friends I helped set up a relationship. If any of your friends need a wingman, please join me on my next shows."
When you leave the mall, you walk together in silence, not even getting the courage to look at him. But you bite down your fears and say, "What gave you the impression that you aren't my type?" You still don't look at him, but your hands are in front of you, trying to grasp the air. "Because then I'd have to fix that. You are exactly my type."
Oh no, you think. You may have spoken to much. "Please ignore what I just said if you don't like me back."
"I do," Nanami softy says, and you whip you head towards him, seeing a rare smile on his face. His cheeks are still dusted a light shade of pink and he looks so cute you could kiss him. "I never thought you could like me like that."
"OH you blind man," you sigh, intertwining your fingers when his hand reaches for yours. "Let's just do this again later, okay?"
"Okay," Nanami says, the smile not leaving his face.
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serxinns · 2 months
Text
Yan! Fatgum vs Yan! all might (Both platonic)
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•Now all might be Tolerable when it came to the teachers coddling you and being protective over you he was fine but with others it was a problem a Big problem, and fatgum was that problem At 1st all might not mind Fatgum, he just thought he didn't have the same thought at him and just was clueless but oh boy he was wrong
• he started seeing Fatgum giving you your favorite snacks and always pinching your little cheeks and carrying you around Seeing you happy and smiling with him made him sick he should be the one making you happy and spoiling you the final straw was when you accidentally calling fatgum uncle while fatigue eyes sparkle all might had a dark glint in his eye and a threatening aura surrounding him he was gonna have to do something about this
•So one day, while you and Kirishima were chatting with each other fatigue watched happily as the two of you were getting along until he felt a cold hand on his shoulder "They look like they're having fun right young hero!" there stood all might in his muscle form, Fatgum smiled "Yea they've been getting along well! It's almost liked they're dating!" all might smile twitch when he heard that last part even tho he knew he wasn't joking his blood was still boiling so he pinned the young hero in the wall his blue eyes piercing down on him the all might glared into his eyes
•"Listen here I'm tired of beating around this bush I want you to stay far away from them as possible and stop tryna influence that student of yours to get with them" To his surprise fatigue chuckled, "Thats funny hilarious even but no way just because your a worry some clingy ass number 1 can't handle someone touching what's "Theirs" doesn't mean im gonna back down" all might stared at the man in shocked but it quickly turned into a rage "Why you lit-" suddenly you and kiri ran up to the two heroes they both stare you in silence until fatgum said something
"Hey little buds back already?" "Yea! me and kiri were learning new tricks! kiri taught me how to block with your torso" the two of you eyes sparkle while fatgum chuckled to himself "Yea y/ns moved were super manly they even taught me their new power move you gotta see it!" "Alright you guys I'll catch up! Don't try to hurt yourselves!" when the 2 Teens left fatgum looked at All might with a smirk "also I recorded everything you said so be cautious with your actions" and with that fatgum happily followed behind the children like there was nothing wrong leaving all might angry and shocked he cursed under his breath but he was not gonna back down easily or even Never
•To this day the 2 mostly all might would compete to each other about whos better then who like how All Might would make you fly up in the sky while holding you to see the view and if you are scared of heights that's ok he'll carry you on his back while his fan are in awe
•Fatgum would just try to piss off all might By Giving you your favorite treats, Making you and kiri wear his costume while he just dies from happiness and taking pictures, Whenever all might spotted him he was spin you around or pinch your cheeks making all might glaring like he wanted to commit murder
• While all might has a trick up his sleeve he'll buy you anything you want unless it's other peoples merch he always sneak some matching all might merch for deku and you so that one day if izuku found out by stalking you that you were wearing the same clothes as him he'll want you to hold hands for the rest of the day
Bonus:
Fatgum and All might: Aruging about who's better
Kiri, Reader and Izuku: 👀
Reader: Yall wanna go get ice cream
Izuku: yea I don't think they'll stop anytime soon
Kirishima: well let's get some popcorn on the way as well then!
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hooked-on-elvis · 3 months
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[STORY TIME] 🤢🍹 DRUNK ELVIS (1968)
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Story told by Charlie Hodge.
Next to him are Joe Esposito and Larry Geller. All men, Memphis Mafia. You can hear the story on the video above, if you prefer, or you can scroll down and read it (Charlie is the way to go, press the play button). But before the story, just wanted to say: Charlie was so funny! The "huey" joke! LOL! I adore him. ♥ Rest in peace, sweet Charlie, also Joe. God bless your souls.
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[STORY TIME] 🍹
Well, as we know, Elvis was not a drinker. Hardly he'd get interested a few drinks, but that's the thing: when a person like that drinks and gets carried away, he goes all the way, not knowing his own safe limits; in reality it doesn't take that much alcohol to make 'em tipsy. As any person who didn't drink often, Elvis' tolerance for alcohol was very low - taking from the stories told over the years. Sometimes disasters happen when one not used to drink have too much drinking, other times just funny things take place. Charlie is talking about one of those moments for Elvis, a funny one.
According to Hodge, he and the guys (Memphis Mafia) were with Elvis in Palm Springs, on set while he was filming a movie during the 60's. Charlie recalls it as being 'Live A Little, Love a Little' — for which filming began on March 13th, with principal photography ending in May 1st, 1968, so that story happened in early 1968.
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Elvis and Michele Carey on scene from 'Live A Little, Love A Little" (1968)
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Charlie says Elvis was filming one of the scenes he's in the sea, when he complained the water was too cold. He then asked his guys if they happen to have anything to drink, so could use the liquor to help keeping his body warm while he was filming that sea scene. They didn't have any, so they sent Charlie to buy some. Charlie bought a peach brandy and rum, so he came back with it and Elvis drank it... but it turns out he liked the peach liquor, a little too much.
Normally people who don't drink they go ease with sweet tasting liquor and they don't stop drinking, simply because don't feel getting drunk... until they are hammered. This happened to poor Elvis a few times.
When he finished the one peach brandy drink he had, on their way home after shooting day was over, Charlie mentions how Elvis was already slurred speech/swaying drunk but he said he liked the drink and wanted to go buy some more. The guys stopped by a liquor store. There, silly Elvis enters the store and absentminded goes walking around, calmly checking the options as if nothing was happening around, while "poor Joe", as Charlie says, was desperate to get him back in the car, in fear some mob took place if people found out Elvis was there.
Well, they got home safely after all, and El had all the drinks he wanted until everybody heads to their own bedrooms. Charlie says Elvis was wearing his blue nylon jammies and, he jokes about it, saying all the guys too were wearing blue nylon jammies that night, actually; in his words, "because we figured, if Elvis looks good in blue nylon jammies, we do too!" 😆
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Scene from 'Live a Little, Love a Little' (1968)
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Shortly after, Joe Esposito hears a knock on his bedroom door. He opens the door and sees Elvis standing two-hands leaned against Joe's bedroom door frames, ill looking (clearly sick from the drinking).
El looked at Joe and said,
"Joe, I'm dying."
Esposito tried to calm him down, telling him he was alright and he should go back to his bedroom and just lay down and sleep, but Elvis ignored.
"Call daddy" (Vernon)", he said to Joe.
"Tell him to sell Graceland. He doesn't need that big old place... and sell all the cars, he don't need them too."
Joe continued trying to calm Elvis down, ignoring the nonsense the man was saying, but El (as any good wasted person who thinks he's in perfect clear estate of mind), insisted,
"I'm not kidding, I'm dying!"
Finally Joe got to send Elvis went back to his own bedroom, but soon EP was back repeating the same things. "I'm dying." According to Charlie, this went on for about three times. On the third time, as soon as Elvis said, "I'm dying" again, he threw up right in front of Joe. 🤢
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Can you picture drunk Elvis? (LOL) Those little anecdotes of Elvis Presley's life are just so fun to hear about! That bring him closer to us, making that god-like looking man feel like any friend of ours, or even ourselves. I love hearing those "hammered Elvis" stories, don't you?
Elvis in scene from "Wild In The Country" (1961)
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What kind of drunk person you think our sweet El was?
I think he would get extra affectionate, mellow and even needy, which makes me crave to be right there with him. ♥
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madlittlecriminal · 9 months
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Xjdkdhckdkx I just found your blog and I’ve already read too many of your fics. I love the way you write for Jonathan Crane. It’s so refreshing to see my favorite character soft and sweet, it’s so cute. Too damn good!
With that being said, if I may, I gotta request this. I’ve noticed the man rarely smiles and doesn’t laugh throughout all three moves and it hurts my heart. Soooo, how about our good ol’ Murphy Johnny boy with a very playful reader that takes any and every opportunity to see him smile and hear him laugh. Doing cute, goofy things, corny pickup lines/jokes, playful tickle fights, and more. It can be in the form of headcanons or a fic. Doesn’t matter to me. Have a good day/night. Love yah!~
Menace ↦ Jonathan Crane × Playful!GN!Reader [headcanons]
you're very sweet :) im glad you love my fics for him and honestly, i know what you mean. it sucks to see him not smile often because aside from his beautiful eyes, Cillian Murphy's smile has me WEAK. but yeah, i like writing my characters soft because im a firm believer that no matter how grumpy they are, they will always have the softest spot for their significant other
Warnings: Jonathan Crane being the biggest softie out here
(im well aware this isn't from the dark knight trilogy, but like...look at his smileeee)
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You were a menace in Jonathan's life, but he loved that about you
Especially when you'd jumps care him because...well, he was the Scarecrow, so it was ironic.
You'd also do anything to see him smile and laugh, so he'd constantly try to hold it all back, but you were you and he couldn't hold it back for too long
Especially when you'd tickle him in the middle of cuddle sessions.
He lowkey loved it.
Sometimes you'd ruffle his hair for fun to see him smile.
If he ever had a bad day, that was the perfect pick me up.
Then one time you threw a pillow at him to get his reaction which made him throw it back at you, hiding a smile
But when you threw it back, making his glasses fall off his face, he couldn't help but laugh.
"Why though?!"
Was his only question in between his laughter.
You then would casually slide a few dumb pickup lines his way.
"I would never play hide and seek with because someone like you is impossible to find."
He shook his head with a smile on his face.
"If you were a Transformer, you'd be Optimus Fine."
He shut his eyes and laughed.
He loved and hated your pickup lines because they were funny but stupid.
Since you knew he was Scarecrow, you'd wear his mask sometimes, pretending you were him.
"They scream and they cry!"
He couldn't help but cackle at your words as you slid on the wooden floors of his home with the mask on.
He told you about the incident with Falcone once, so he was surprised you remembered it.
Honestly, he loved when you put the mask on because when he'd put it on, it would smell faintly of your shampoo, instantly making him smile underneath it.
Even when you were sick, you managed to crack a few jokes which would make him chuckle, but he'd tell you to relax so you'd get better
"I hate how handsome you are. You're out here living your best life and I'm here with a cold!"
"You're still beautiful."
"Don't lie to me!"
The glare you'd give him would make you stifle a laugh as he gave you a ginger tea.
He loved how nothing stopped you from making him laugh or smile.
You once made a joke about how Batman could have "throw hands" with you if he caught your boyfriend again.
He couldn't deny how funny he thought it was.
I mean, sure, it would never happen especially with the skills Batman had.
There was a time where you wanted him to smile so bad that you squished his cheeks together, telling him he had to lighten up.
He took your hands off of his face and laughed.
"You're unbelievable!"
"You love it though!"
It was true.
You were his light, and he wasn't letting you go.
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