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pablitosgf · 8 months

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𝐓𝐎𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 — jb05 !

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 ! — jude bellingham x fem!bestfriend!reader

𝐈𝐍𝐅𝐎 ! — in which an old lady mistakes you and jude as a married couple, leaving you with many thoughts.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 ! — nothing!!

𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄 ! — no because this took me 3 days to write… anyways… Y/N/N means your nickname <3

𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐓 ! — writing

You lay in your bed, bored, to say the least. Today, you had no plans at all, and all your friends were busy. Including your best friend, Jude. Apparently, he was going to be babysitting his nieces, you knew he was good with kids but told him:

“If you need help just tell me, okay?”

You were no stranger to his nieces, after all, you were like family to the Bellinghams. Knowing his aunts, grandparents, cousins, and nieces and nephews. They treated you as family and you reciprocated that.

Of course, when Jude heard you say that he instantly replied with an “I don't need help, I'm good with kids.”

You laughed it off, knowing he’ll need help at least at one point, but you didn't say that to him. So now, you still lay there bored as ever. Watching as the warm sun seeps into your window, casting an orange hue on your body as you look at the window. You could hear the low voices of your phone lightly exuding music from its speakers, making the surroundings more tranquil. You observed as people walked around your neighborhood, immediately thinking that you should too.

And just as you were going to go on a walk, a vibration came on your phone. Inside, you hoped it was Jude so you can prove him wrong, saying that he did need help from his best friend. A smile played on your face as you thought about it, you extended your hand for the buzzing phone, producing noise as its laying on your sheets. Instantly your eyes darted to the contact name, you smiled even harder.

Judith.

A silly nickname you called Jude, eventually making it his contact name after he mentioned it. You brought your phone to your ear as you press the green button, and his voice bleeds from the phone's speakers. Some unidentified shuffling came through and some giggles and laughs. A grin tints your face.

“Okay, you were right I do need help…” Jude sighs.

Your chuckle fills the whole call, “Of course you do. Send me the location.”

He says a quick okay, ending the call fast. You flitted to grab your car & house keys before strolling out the door. The fresh breeze wafts into your nose as you inhale, making you feel serenity. You made your way to your car, clambering inside as you wait for it to start.

And when it starts you make your way through windy roads and scenic views. England wasn't always thought of as the most beautiful, but it definitely had pretty sceneries.

You eventually made your way, moving toward the entrance of the house. It was for sure one of the prettier neighborhoods around here, not to say your neighborhood was the worst, but this one was definitely better. Your arm extended, folding into a fist as you knock on the black wooden door.

Patiently you waited for your best friend to open the door. You heard some noises from inside the house and footsteps gradually become louder and louder like a crescendo. Click! Was the sound the door made as it opened ajar. A toddler peeking through the black door. Immediately, you recognized who it was.

“Hi Nalia, where’s Uncle Jude?” you asked, tilting your head. She looked back, and Jude came into view as he scrambled to the door with another baby, who you also recognized. You chuckled, seeing as the other baby, Jazelle, was wrapped around his waist. Sweat beads fall down his face.

“I’m right… Here,” he said, panting.

“You look…” you began, looking at him up and down. His shirt was off, revealing his muscles, and overall he looked disheveled. But somehow he still looked perfect as ever. “Like a mess.”

He chuckled, “I know, anyways come inside. The girls want to go to the park.” he gestured for you to enter, closing the door after you did.

“I'm gonna go shower and change, take care of these two, please.” he put Jazelle down after planting a kiss on Jazelle and Nalia, running off to what you assumed was the bathroom.

You nodded and kneeled down to the two of them with a warm smile, “Do you, girls want to play while we wait for Uncle Jude?”

The girls responded with an excited “Yes!” jumping up and down. A cordial smile rolled down your lips as Jazelle and Nalia dashed to their playroom. You watched as Nalia passed by Jazelle, and you let out a chortle. Everything is a competition if you have siblings.

You finally made it to the playroom, and damn it was very nice. Nicer than whatever you had in your childhood. The playroom was littered with toys, some that you recognized, some that you didn't.

You look at the kids, playing Barbies with each other. You rest your head on your hand with a smile adorning your face as you sat down on a little chair. Their little voices and giggles overwhelm your ears and the smile that once adorned your face was even more brighter. Some day, you wanted a husband and a happy family. But for right now, you were fine being alone.

If you were going to be honest, watching Jazelle and Nalia play Barbies together made your baby–fever rise. You’ve always dreamt of kids and honestly, you didn't mind having a baby currently. You didn't get how people resented children because all you wanted to do was hug them and hold them in your arms for hours.

You were too stuck in your thoughts to realize Jude finished getting ready, “Hey, we should go to the park now.”

You nodded as you watched Jude playfully tickle the kids and pick them up. Your heart was beating faster than normal… Something you’ve never felt with Jude. Deep inside you knew what these feelings were, you knew it all too well. Maybe, it's just a one–time thing. The next time you hang out with him it’ll be all back to normal.

“Hey, Y/N/N ready to go?”

Your head whizzed in his direction, and both of the girls were strapped on his hips. A blush tinted your cheeks, he was wearing a goddamn compression shirt.

“Y–yeah! Let's go ladies and gentlemen!” you chuckled, getting up and walking towards the entrance.

Walking out of the house, you all advanced to the cars. “We should probably use your car… It has the booster seat things, right?”

Jude nodded, “Can you take my keys and open the car?”

You reach into his pocket, searching for the keys. As soon as the car keys meet your hand you take them and unlock the car.

You settled down on a bench, watching as Jazelle and Nalia play on the playground. You monitor them carefully, you didn't want their parents blaming you and Jude for getting their babies hurt.

And just as you were about chat with Jude an old lady walked up to the both of you. “You guys are a really cute couple! I remember me and my husband at this exact playground watching our kids. Are those two cuties yours?” she pointed to Jazelle and Nalia.

“No–”

“Yeah! They are.” Jude smiled, slinging his arm around your waist which struck an uneasy feeling to settle in your stomach.

It wasn't like the bad uneasy though, it was the uneasy where you had so many butterflies in your stomach to the point you just wanted to kiss them in the face. Like… Like a crush.

“They really do look like Dad don't they?” the grandma chucled, glancing over at the sisters.

You chuckled along with her, “They really do! I was hoping that they looked like me, but as soon as I saw her the first time out of my womb I was like ‘Uh oh, she doesn't look like me!’”

You all erupt in laughter, “I get that… All my children look like my husband it's crazy!” the grandma said.

You both awkwardly smile at her, “Anyway, you two have the cutest little family. I wish you two a successful marriage and a happy family!”

You both let out a thank you and as soon as she walks away you both look at each other, exploding in laughter.

But one thing you didn't notice, was how he kept his arm around your waist, and you didn't say a single word about it.

And one thing is for sure, you went to bed thinking about Jude.

#pablitosgf #football #football imagine #soccer #real madrid #madridista #football oneshot #football fanfic #football fandom #soccer x reader #jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham fanfic #jude bellingham x you #jude bellingham #jude bellingham imagines #jude bellingham x fem!reader

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neteyamsyawntu · 4 months

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Kinkmas Day 05

O n A M o u n t

Neteyam x Human!Reader

✨Friendly Disclaimer: The content of this story contains aged-up characters! If this is something that makes you uncomfortable, please feel free to click or scroll away. The last thing I want is for anyone to read something they are uncomfortable with, however if you decide to interact with any negativity, you will be blocked from my blog as a result.

Warnings: 🔞MINORS DNI🔞, vulgar language, fingering

“You are sure you want to go?” Neteyam’s head cocks to the side slightly in his crouched position, eyeing your petite human form as you work diligently on beading a bracelet for his youngest sister. “Of course! Tuk is finally going to bond with her own ikran, I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” You say with a bright smile, sparing Neteyam a quick glance as your fingers weave the material of the accessory masterfully. He bends down to your level, eyeing the gift you are crafting with adoration before transferring his gaze to you, “It will be dangerous, yawne. Tuk could get hurt, Lo’ak was thrown from his ikran on his first attempt. Are you really sure you still want to go?”, “Yes Teyam, and you aren’t going to talk me out of it, come on! I just finished the bracelet!” You chime eagerly as you stand to your feet, russling his braids on the top of his head before making your way out to where his ikran was waiting.

With a soft chuckle and a shake of his head, Neteyam stands to his feet again before calling out to you that he would just be a minute while he grabbed his cloak. It was windy, very windy which made your stomach perform a small flip of anxiousness as a shiver went down your spine. Hopefully it wouldn’t affect Tuk’s trial today. Your head spun around at the sent of the tent flap opening, revealing Neteyam as he emerged now adorned in the brown leather cloak. The sight alone made you blush, he always reminded you of a prince whenever he wore it; draped so perfectly over his shoulders, his cummerbund holding onto his waist securely and with the addition of all his flying gear, you couldn’t help but feel a little aroused at the sight. “Yawne, you are shaking. Come let’s get you up, I promise to hold you close to keep you warm.” He coos, lifting your small form into his arms effortlessly, setting you down on his ikran before hopping on himself, doing exactly as he said and securing your position between his legs.

With his arm wrapped tightly around your middle and a piercing screech from his ikran, the two of you took off into the air. This was one of your favorite places to be; above the tree line with the wind blowing throw your hair and your mate holding you closely against his chest. It was perfect. His scent surrounded you as you leaned into his touch, closing your eyes as you took in the potent smell. His scent mixed with the strong arm around your waist began to pool a dampness in your panties, one that did not go undetected by Neteyam as you soon felt a familiar stiffening against your backside. “Teyam… you’re hard.” You smirk, giving him a cheeky look over your shoulder, before gently wiggling your ass against his bulge. “Why would I not be? I have a beautiful tawtute sitting so pretty between my legs.” Neteyam purrs low into your ear, nuzzling into the side of your head, his hold on your tightening as a groan escapes him, feeling you move against him, “But you really must keep still while we are flying, yawne.” He hums at the moment his ikran gives a few stabilizing flaps of its wings.

“What’s the matter? The mighty warrior can’t multitask?” You tease grinding your ass a bit more firmly into his bulge. This immediately evokes his grasp on you to tighten further, his fingertips indenting into your side as he huffs out a sound of sexual frustration. You both were playing a simple game and yet you took pride in winning. With a grunt of defeat Neteyam’s hand drops to the length of the loincloth that he had made for you, pushing it to the side as he begins rubbing small circles against your clit, “You tease too much, tawtute… but if this is what you want, then keep still.”. A shiver runs through your body as the wind blows against your exposed intimated, the heat from Neteyam’s fingertips doing little to calm the cold, yet his hot breath on your ear makes you snuggle back into him, your hips squirming into his hand. “Tsk tsk.. I said be still, yawne… such a naughty little thing you are.”.

Eyes shooting wide, your hand reaching up to cling to his arm, nails digging into his azure forearm as his finger forces its way into you, ripping a gasp from your throat. “T-Tey!” You whine as you feel the long and slender digit caressing right into your g-spot oh so effortlessly. It was amazing how just his finger could fill you up and threaten to push you over the edge so quickly, thrusting in and out of your velvety walls. “Heh.. you sound so pretty calling my name like that yawne… I told you to keep still, but my needy little tawtute would not listen…” you continue to whimper, nuzzling into his chest as he teases you, continuing the long drag of his digit inside you, “Now be a good girl and cum on my finger, hm?”.

Tag list: @itchaboi-itchyboy @pandoraslxna @oakbuggy @plooto @xylianasblog @etherial-moon-blog @hikari-michiko @neteyamssyulang @blue-slxt @c-townes @loaksxhoe @xstarsdiary @neteyamswillow @akoyaxs @neteyxmsgirl @narwhal-swimmingintheocean @zafrinaxyz @neteyams-wh0re @neteyamyawne @kiri-tuk @beauitful-brown-skin-05 @akoyaxs @neteyamsstuff @puddleswimmingnerd-blog @ntymavtr @luvv4j4ybe11

#avatar12daysofkinkmas #avatar #avatar the way of water #neteyam #neteyam sully #neteyam smut #avatar twow #avatarsmut

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cvrnelians · 11 months

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smile like you mean it - chapter four

You knew filing for divorce would be no easy feat. But filing for divorce from Roman Roy?

"No easy feat” might as well have been synonymous with “impossible."

warnings: drug use, alcoholism, miscarriage, Roman and the rest of the Roy family being awful.

chapters 1-3 // chapter five

music

☽ Chapter Four ☽

“Are you mad at me?”

It was a genuine inquiry. You could tell by his tone of voice—whiny, timid, uncertain. He sounded like a kid that just smacked his friend on the playground, not a grown man that just accosted you on a private jet. Karma pays everyone a visit eventually, even the rich and powerful. Today, Roman’s karma came in the form of:

complete and utter terror over the plane landing, and

complete and utter terror over you being done with his shit.

The image of Roman’s barely restrained panic as the jet plummeted downwards flashed through your mind as you broke into a sprint across the tarmac. That image was the one and only thing keeping you sane at the moment. He looked the most rigid you had ever seen him as you came to an aptly rough landing, back pressed straight up against his seat as he clutched onto the armrests with shaky hands. Although you would never admit it, seeing him like that—after all he had said to you that afternoon—was the first time you smiled the entire flight.

Your throat was dry, your eyes were red and swollen from crying, and your ears were plugged. Needless to say, you were more than enthused to finally breathe in some fresh air. You lugged your suitcase behind you, its wheels squeaking loudly against the concrete. You were pretty sure you had pulled a muscle in your shoulder after yanking it down from the overhead compartment, but you didn’t really care. Your main priority was getting off that godforsaken plane and away from Roman as quickly as possible.

It wasn’t difficult to decide that you would be sitting next to the driver on this beautiful, windy evening in Herefordshire. There was no way in hell you were trapping yourself with your soon-to-be-former boss in a confined space again. You were already in the process of opening the front passenger’s side door when the driver stepped out; a thin, tall man somewhere in his sixties.

“Hi!” you practically yelled at him, receiving a bemused look in return.

“Good evening, ma’am. You in a rush?”

“Something like that. Just glad to have my feet back on the ground again.”

When you looked behind you, you were surprised to see Roman also barrelling full speed ahead towards the car. You found it laughable, considering how much he despised running. He would find any and every excuse to take a break whenever you went on your morning jogs together. “Morning jogs.” Yeah…

They were typically more of a walk/run hybrid, with breaks lasting longer than the time spent exercising. During these breaks, there was almost always food involved. This was one aspect of your job you didn’t hate. Roman really liked breakfast, so you often got free donuts and coffee out of the deal. A meager perk of working for the spawn of Satan, but a perk all the same.

You had managed to pull the car door open less than halfway when it was abruptly slammed shut. Roman pressed his hand flat up against the window as he leaned over you. Even while breathing heavily, he still managed to bestow you with you that smug little smirk of his.

You kept it simple.

“Romulus, I've had enough. Move.”

Roman raised his eyebrows. “Romulus, huh? Wow. That really gets me going.”

You glared at him, pulling the door ajar only for him to slam it shut once again. You hated him. You hated him with every fiber of your being.

“Roman, I’m serious. Move.”

“Awwwww, no more Romulus? Why not?”

“Get out of my way and let me open the door.”

”Whaaat?” he asked, his voice rising an octave as he held his arms up defensively. “I’m not sure what you mean.” He had to scramble to close the door when you tried opening it again, bumping into you in the process. You jolted at the sudden movement, stumbling into him. You could hear a loud thud and an even louder “OW!” as he hit the pavement. On any other day, you would immediately check to see that he was okay. Today wasn’t any other day, though.

Today, you felt like you were going to pop a vein in your forehead if you didn’t immediately remove yourself from his presence.

“Oh, come on!” he lamented, getting up just as quickly as he went down. He wrapped his arms around your midriff and pulled you backwards in an effort to move towards the backseat. He was so close to you that you were tripping over one other, collapsing onto the concrete. Once. Twice. Three times. At a certain point, you were both thrashing around so much that you weren’t even trying to meet your objectives—yours to go towards the front seat, and his to move you towards the back seat. At this juncture, you were simply trying (and failing) to protect the other from hitting the ground.

“Stop falling!” he yelled. “STOP FALLING!”

“STOP MAKING ME FALL!”

“JUST GET IN THE CAR!”

“I’M TRYING!”

The driver was making a valiant attempt to physically separate you. It was like trying to get in between two very irate koalas. “Sir…ma’am…you need t—” You could feel the driver’s hand gingerly touch your shoulder when you accidentally slammed into him, sending this poor, innocent bystander plummeting to the ground. Roman’s eyes widened as he finally let you go.

You managed to find your footing again, standing directly across from him as he stared at you. He reminded you of a housecat that managed to find its way outside and completely froze, not knowing what to do—even after putting himself in this position. You scoffed in disgust. Even if he was caught off guard, he didn’t even lean down to make sure the man was okay. You turned towards the driver, lying on his side with a stunned look on his face. “Are you alright?” you asked, reaching over to try and help him up. “Sir, I am so sorry. I am so, so sorry.”

The man simply sighed as he stood up, Roman jumping in at the last second.

“Yeah, sorry Gramps,” he said flippantly, his voice shaky. “Looks like you got caught in the crossfire.”

“Fucking unbelievable,” you snapped, rushing to wrench open the trunk and throw your suitcase inside.

Roman’s karma also came in the form of you sitting as far away from him as humanly possible on the car ride to Siobahn’s wedding venue—a castle “belonging to a family friend” where you would all be staying for the next week. No big deal or anything.

Or rather, would’ve been staying for the next week.

It was no longer so difficult to imagine yourself quitting this job. It simply wasn’t worth it anymore. You would figure something out. Even if he ruined your reputation, he had made a lot of enemies during his short time as COO. Surely someone in the industry would hire you, and even if they didn’t, you could get a job in another field entirely. You hadn’t been planning on being an assistant for the rest of your life anyway. Sure, you had wanted to move up in the corporate world. Sure, it was a shame that some entitled manchild was driving you away from what you wanted, but again.

Was it all really worth it?

There was a divider in the car, a tinted window that separated Roman from you and the driver, who you now knew as Doug. Ah, Doug. Although you had only known him for a few minutes, you definitively concluded that he was one of the most understanding human beings on the planet. You supposed you couldn’t be too surprised that he was so forgiving of the situation, granted that he had been working for Caroline for several years. Sadly, he must’ve been used to that level of…whatever the hell that was.

Little did you know, that tinted window worked just like any other window in the vehicle: it could be opened and closed. And open it did, with just the push of a button from the backseat. You let out a groan as the window slowly rolled down, Roman’s anxious face appearing in the rearview mirror. He seemed uncomfortable, like he was sick to his stomach. And then came the winning question.

“Are you mad at me?”

You were quiet for such a long time that he started to ask again.

“Are y—”

“I quit.”

You said the words before they were even fully formed in your brain. You pressed the button to roll the window back up, but he quickly rolled it back down.

“You…um. You quit what, exactly?”

“I quit,” you repeated. “I’m done. It’s over.”

“What are you quitting? Quitting smoking? Quitting your gym membership? Quitting life? Do I need to get you 5150’d, or…?” He was being sarcastic as usual but the discomfort in his voice betrayed him.

He didn’t like this. He didn’t like this one bit.

“This job, Roman!” you snapped. “I quit. I don’t want to work for you anymore. I never did.”

He was the quiet one this time. You tried clicking the button only for him to roll the window back down again. You wanted to scream. Yet another example of Roman taking advantage of something useful for his own purposes: annoying you.

“You don’t mean that.”

You chuckled bitterly. “You sound so sure of yourself.”

“You’re staying with us for the next week. So what, are you just gonna hang around until it’s time to go? You really think I’m gonna let you do that?”

“Of course not. I’m not putting myself through that misery,” you said flatly, scrolling through your phone. “I’m looking up flights home now. The reception here sucks, so I’ll have to figure it out when we get there.”

“Um, yeah. No.”

You stopped scrolling, your posture stiff. “I’m sorry, what?” you asked, your eyes shifting back to the rearview mirror. He was looking out the window, shaking his head as he scrunched up his face. “Did you just say no?”

He turned back to meet your eyes in the mirror. There was an air of false calmness to him. He could usually talk himself out of anything, but this clearly caught him off guard. Did he seriously think you would never get tired of putting up with him? On second thought, you supposed he would be surprised by someone asserting themselves, and ultimately withdrawing from him. He was constantly doing terrible things, and his family and everyone around him just boiled it down to “well, that’s just the way he is.” Professional enablers, all of them. Even Kendall at times. “No” wasn’t something he got told a whole lot, unless it was coming from Logan. And given his position of power, you leaving must’ve seemed out of the question to him.

“We need to…I don’t know! Don’t we need to have a meeting about this first? Like an exit interview, or whatever the fuck? We have to sit down and schedule a little get-together before you do anything drastic. You have to submit a formal resignation.”

“Okay, I’ll just email you one.”

“No, a hard copy.”

“It’s not 1996.”

“Nope, I want a hard copy. It’s the least you can do, you overpaid little brat. And wouldn’t you know? Uh oh, you forgot to bring your printer in your carry-on. Silly you. Looks like you’re gonna have to put your plans on hold.”

“Roman,” you turned to look at him, the anger evident on your face. “I mean it. I’ll say it as many times as I need to. I quit.”

“Look, I get it. Okay? You’re tired, I’m tired and what I said earlier wasn’t exactly…fair. And stop looking at me like that. I don’t like it.”

You just stared at him. “Roman, you called me an H&M wearing plebeian.”

“No, that’s slander, okay? What you’re doing is illegal. Slander is illegal. I didn’t call you an H&M wearing plebeian. I called you a run of the mill, ladder climbing H&M wearing plebeian. And a coffee gopher.”

“Oh my god. I can’t.”

You turned away, rolling the back window up. Instead of pressing the button again, Roman stretched his neck so his face rose above it as it closed. “Okay, yeah. I said it, but I didn’t mean the run of the mill part! Seriously, I—”

A few minutes of silence passed before you spoke again, this time to the only other tolerable person in the vehicle.

“Is his mother like this, too?” you asked.

Doug smirked and laughed to himself. “Caroline? Well, she can also be very…persistent.”

For the final time, the window rolled down.

“Hey. You two aren’t talking shit about me up there, are you?”

☽

You couldn't catch a flight until tomorrow.

Tomorrow.

And so, you were stuck in what had once been your designated room. A nice room, a room bigger than your apartment, but you would be lying if you said this wasn't the last place you wanted to be. When you got out of the car, Roman waved you off dismissively before practically running away from you.

"Just sleep on it, 'kay?"

You would not be "sleeping on it." You were leaving tomorrow afternoon, come hell or high water.

In addition to this, all things considered, you weren’t exactly jazzed about Kendall strolling in there at 11:00pm. He walked in casually (after knocking, of course. He may have been a Roy, but he wasn’t a Roman) just as he would when you used to work for him. It had been a while since you had really spoken to Kendall. He would email and text you pretty regularly, however. He liked to “check in.” It was clear that he missed you, and even clearer that he pitied you.

“Hey you!” he called out. “Catch!” He tossed something at you, small and light. To your surprise, you actually managed to catch it.

A sober chip.

“Ninety days,” he said fondly. “I’ve been keeping up with my meetings. I know it’s not a huge deal, but I figured you would be proud.”

He was correct. You were proud. You used to really push him to go to his meetings. Frankly, you were a little afraid he wouldn’t keep up with them after you stopped working for him. He seemed to prefer AA over NA. He never mentioned why. Although alcohol was certainly an issue for him, his main drug of choice was cocaine. You had never thought to ask about it. It seemed too personal.

“That’s great, Ken!”

Your anxiety about what had been said about you and your former boss seemed to dissipate slightly when he told you the good news. It appeared that a hug was in order, at least from Kendall’s point of view. You stood there awkwardly as he wrapped his arms around you and squeezed.

“Wow, you’re a shitty hugger.”

You laughed nervously, tapping him on the back a few times in what was supposed to be some…platonic form of affection. You peered over his shoulder. The door was wide open. Although you didn’t see anyone—and likely wouldn’t, considering how late at night it was—you didn’t want to risk people seeing this.

Especially not you know who.

“So,” he said, pulling away and smoothing out his sweater. You felt the urge to roll your eyes. Black cashmere, not one wrinkle in sight. So very Kendall.

“How have you been?”

☽

Thank you all so much for reading/liking/reblogging/replying 🩵 It means a lot. Short chapter this time (since I uploaded three in one shot last time lol), longer chapter next time. Reader is in a tough spot here 🙃

@pearlstiare

#roman roy x reader #roman roy #succession

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poppurini · 11 months

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holding his hand

incl. malleus & f!reader┊reader wears a dress

note. not proofread i word vomit

malleus was deprived of physical touch ever since birth. aside from his grandmother and the country’s trusted general, people and animals alike have avoided him like plague if possible. servants back at the castle bowed their heads and retreated quickly whenever they spotted him, birds have fled and the animals have left their precious dinner behind when malleus stepped into their vicinity.

the man understands since childhood that it was due to his position and the power he possessed, but he would never harm them. he was certain he would never abuse his power and harm innocent creatures, he was not a monster. well, he was a little upset with the way he’s being treated but it never really occupied much of his mind, really. he had stopped gazing out windows, standing on his tippy toes when he was a mere toddler to watch the town children running around and play-fighting with each other. it had stopped bothering him, he had grown accustomed to it. only until this very moment where he’s sat beside you, that is.

to others, it may have been a little embarrassing. the future king of briar valley had fallen quick and deep for this child of man he had coincidentally met during one of his strolls in the forest. it was cliché, really. but how could he not be intrigued by someone who did not flee at the sight of him? instead you held an endearing curiosity in your eyes, clearly alarmed by the stranger but still, you did not flee.

his feet brought him back to the very same spot the next day, hoping to encounter you again and, well, maybe make a friend? he never had a friend. he should take the initiative. malleus preferred you come out from hiding first, though. surely you’re aware of him noticing your presence? he had chuckled a little, this human was poor at being discreet.

and before malleus knew it, his heart yearned for you. not a second goes by where his mind was not occupied by the intriguing girl he had met that fateful day. the young fae finished his lessons quickly and stepped out, he’d hate to be late and make you wait.

malleus hope he wasn’t being too obvious about it but oh, what is this feeling, anyway? he does not know, but he likes it. he likes the way you make him feel, it was such a pleasant feeling he find himself smiling at the mere thought of you.

there is one thing troubling him, however. he wishes to hold you oh so desperately. the distance between you two had closed gradually the more you see each other but he still could not find the courage in him to just initiate touch. yes, the mighty fae was shy. how embarrassing, truly.

he had a hunch you reciprocated his feelings, malleus had seen the bashful look on your face when he draped his coat over your lap. it was windy that day, you looked a little cold to the man and your pretty dress did not cover all of you, he find the way you stuttered thanks adorable.

it was a gesture that occurred to him naturally, he hadn’t thought much about it. but holding hands? oh, how scandalous.

he had given much thought about how he should execute it. i mean, he could really just ask outright. may i hold your hand? that wasn’t hard, but it would be extremely sudden and maybe a little awkward, he admit. or he could sneak his way in? you are sitting very close to each other, after all. if anything the slight graze of your skin against his was driving him to the edge. if only there was something that—

“I pricked my finger today, did you know that some flowers have thorns on them? So scary!” a small laugh escaped you while recalling the little accident you had today, too distracted by its beauty. there was definitely still much to learn for you.

you showed him the small injury, the blood had stopped but it still stings, you told him. malleus’ gaze softened as he gently held your hand. “You should’ve been more careful, child of man.” concern laced his voice as he casted magic, healing your little injury. “Does it still hurt?”

the look you had made him smile. it was but a simple spell, the most basic one, and yet it got you so astonished. there were many surprises to you that he could not wait to unravel them all.

it wasn’t long until malleus stiffened, his heart racing in its cage, threatening to burst. he was holding your hand in his, and you did not pull away. even after the little treatment was done.

he cleared his throat and prepared to pull away, an apology already at the tip of his tongue but you held on. you took his hand in yours and even sat closer to the man with a quiet giggle, almost leaning against him.

“Thanks, Malmal.”

you continued on about the adventures you had today while mindlessly playing with his slender fingers, and it didn’t take malleus long to intertwine them with yours as he hummed in response to your stories.

#malleus draconia x reader #malleus draconia #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland #female reader

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signedeclipse · 2 years

Note

Hello :) I hope you’re having a great day :) please can I request headcanons of the hashira developing their first dirty thoughts about their crush and how would they act around the reader afterwards :)

Kyojuro

It was just another day of training together

The flame hashira insisted it be you that trains with him, because he liked how you never held back on your hits

There were other reasons he never told you, of course, like how you bandaged him carefully after or how much he loved seeing you concentrated on only him

But during today's training, when he managed to trip you, and you fell right into his arms?

How your hand shakily clung to his chest- how you panted for a breath of air

His cheeks ran red, frozen in that position while he drank it up

" Kyojuro? "

" Yes! "

" Can you...let go? "

" I don't see why not! "

You couldn't help but laugh at his, as usual, loud and proud remarks

Kyojuro, however, found himself having to keep more space between you both during training just to keep blood from flowing too far down

Mitsuri

It mixed in with her usual thoughts

" Y/n looks so beautiful today! I wonder if she'd let me- "

Shinobu, to whom she had just been talking to, let out a small 'oh?'

" Let you...? "

Mitsuri ended up hiding behind her hands and running off, stammering apologies to her friend

Yet no matter how hard she blushed, she couldn't keep the idea of touching you out of her head

From now on, she can't help but let her touch linger when you make contact

She hopes you don't notice because she really can't stop herself

Always getting flustered even as you make contact with others, pretending it was her instead

But she could never ask you for anything like that, so instead, she lets her cheeks go rosy and falls deeper in love

Obanai

Obanai, on the outside, treated you like he did any other

Even if he felt his heart pound being near you or felt the need to listen to you far more carefully, he wouldn't allow a single soul to even GUESS his feelings

But Kaburamaru was far less caring than Obanai

The snake would always flick its tongue at you, take any chance it could to slither into your arms for some pets

One time you came running to Obanai with the white serpent wrapped around your wrists, begging Obanai to get the snake to let go so you could continue to train

It took some time, but he managed to convince it to let go, and you were back on your way

But Obanai didn't forget the scene, seeing you all trapped and begging out his name...

Perhaps he should invest in some rope

Sanemi

He's always silent around you, which others consider weird because usually he's always got something to complain about

You figured he just REALLY didn't like you or didn't care about you

Really, Sanemi was just staring and taking in everything you did like it was a novelty

On a particularly windy day and totally not the Wind hashira's doing, your skirt was blown up just a little too high as he so happened to be walking by

He had to bite his tongue and forcibly turn his head as his eyes chased your thighs, wishing it'd happen again

" God, what the hell am I doing. "

You could hear him from where you were, yelling at himself, and decided to run off before he felt the need to be rude to you too

He kept cussing himself out the whole way back to the mansion

Shinobu

You were such a rowdy one, always taking hits and damage in place of your friends

If Shinobu didn't know any better, she'd think you did it all on purpose to end up right back in her care

While she didn't like how you threw yourself in the way of danger all the time, she loved being the one to care for you

You may be rowdy out in battle, but you were a calm sweetheart to her, even offering to help as you went through rehabilitation

Some of her medicine had side effects, such as nightmares, so she got used to seeing you cuddled up to a pillow when checking up on you in the morning

" Shinobu? Is that you...? "

You were talking in your sleep, but your hand reached out for hers, to which she complied

The slight rasp in your voice was hypnotizing; she had to keep from imagining your face was buried into her instead

So long as you are on that medicine, she seems a lot more flustered around you now

Authors Note - I ended up making reader feminine because it just comes far more naturally! Please enjoy exo <3

#demon slayer #demon slayer x reader #demon slayer headcanons #headcanons #kny headcanons #kny x reader #kimetsu no yaiba #x reader #reader insert #kyojuro x reader #kyojuro #mitsuri #mitsuri x reader #obanai x reader #obanai #sanemi #sanemi x reader #shinobu #shinobu x reader

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meshlasolus · 3 months

Text

The Winner Takes It All

Episode 1

Pairing: Finnick Odair x Tribute(OC)!Reader

Chapter Warnings: The Hunger Games reaping. Canon typical angst. Reader has a speech impediment.

Chapter Summary: Lukas Artanhour is your best friend since childhood who makes the worst decision of his life when he volunteers as tribute for the 71st annual hunger games... Luckily, he won't be going alone, and you didn't even have to volunteer.

Word Count: 2.8k

Don't be detered by the OC in this chapter, he is just someone I made up to make the hunger games more emotional of an event 🙃

The representative from the Capitol being the same every year was almost a comforting sort of repetition through the years, but compared to the annual tradition it surrounded, you were hardly relaxed at seeing him make his dazzling appearance. A new outfit every year, made from the finest fabrics and silks that eight had to offer… And you wore the same green top and skirt. At least this year there were seashells.

“Good afternoon, District Four!” His shout of happiness was hardly felt by any who stood here in this gathering. “There’s nothing like being here, amongst the beautiful waters and sandy beaches.”

It’s cold and windy down by the docks, with the sand getting kicked up from time to time. District Four is one of the most beautiful places in all of Panem, and it’s known, as all districts are, for its main production to the Capitol. Fish.

The people here are wealthier than most in the districts, a close third in rank to both one and two, who reign supremely amongst the favorites. The Hunger Games have obviously played a serious part in all of that. Four being a career district meant that the Capitol goers were far more likely to invest. Careers are the favorites, no matter which district they come from.

The reaping is today, and you don’t want to think about it. It is why you arrive at your work station an hour before you need to be there. You’ve spent years of your life down here by the docks, whether it was waiting for your father’s boat to return, or your friend to bring you the boxes that needed to be loaded onto Capitol trucks. You’re a mover, it’s your job. It doesn’t pay well, because the real money is in fishing, but you wouldn’t dare go out on a boat.

“You’re early,” Lukas nearly spooks you, smiling after watching you jump from surprise. “Didn’t mean to scare you.”

“It’s r-reaping day. I couldn’t s-sleep.”

He was used to the skip and stutter of your words, un-phasing him as you spoke each one.

“I get it. My mom keeps hounding me about it. Every year I grow taller, stronger, she tells me I could win,” he sat down next to you in the sand, handing you a shell he found on his way here. “Another for the collection.”

“Thanks,” you took it gratefully, placing it in your pocket for safekeeping until later. You journeyed back to his previous words, what he meant by them. “Does your mother w-wish you’d gone through the career program?”

He shrugged, looking out into the sea, his mind just as full of indecent thoughts as yours.

“I’m not sure what she wants. Ever since dad died she’s just been… different.”

“My parents have s-said, if it ever gets t-too bad, you c-can always stay with us.”

He nods, his appreciation shown through a single sideways glance. He knows he has places to go, he knows that there are others that are willing to treat him as a son should be treated, but he wants his own mother to do it. He longs for the woman she once was, and hopes if he can make her proud enough, maybe she will be that way again.

“I’ll think about it,” he said, but he’d been saying that for the past year.

So far, you’d learned she’d been hitting him, been yelling and screaming about how he would never measure up to his father. You never saw these interactions of course, because if you had you may have broken down for him, your friend of eleven years. In school, he was the only one who would talk to you, the only person who ever gave a damn about the girl with the stutter. He defended you when they made fun of you left and right, for nearly everything they thought was wrong with you.

“You s-shouldn’t listen to her,” you shook your head, the waves crashing on the shoreline several yards down. It was the only thing that would remain peaceful about today, when later on two children would be hauled off and expected to fight or die. “She isn’t in her r-right mind anymore.”

“I know that.”

He agrees, he knows. He is well aware that her mind slipped maybe even before her husband died. She had been driving him to the long hours that he’d worked, and eventually made him work out on a ship during a storm. The boat sinking was just fan to the flame of her deteriorating mental state.

He picked up a rock from the sand a few feet over, standing up and tossing it to skip over the water before it began to wash on the shore. He gave you a hand to your feet, pulling you up until you were steady.

“Boat leaves in a few minutes, I’ll see you when we get back,” he said, turning on his heel in the sand. You nodded at him before he walked off, into the working hours of the day. You shouldn’t even be here for another hour. You know that they’ll be gone for two or more and you don’t need that long to prep the boxes. But you can’t sleep.

Lukas returned to the docks with a much better mindset. The water always made him feel serene. He came to land, lugging the giant nets tied together to keep the fish from falling out. Today’s catch was good as any other, and the songs the boys sang on board nearly made him forget everything else.

“Salmon are catching like crazy this time of year,” he muttered, meeting you halfway to help you untie the knots and start packing the boxes. “Thinking I might sneak one home if there’s extra. You probably can, too.”

“I’ll t-try. My pa could use s-something more to eat.”

He weeded through all the skimpy ones, pulling the biggest catches out first and laying them sideways in the boxes, filling the middles with ice before adding another layer. It was the same thing everyday, but he never tired of it. He was content to live the life of a district four fisherman, and he was good at it.

“How’s his arm doing?” He asked, since you’d brought up your father.

He’d broken it in a rigging accident about two months ago, and the slow healing process was not doing your family any favors. You’d been hungry several times, so obviously extreme measures had to be taken. You won’t think about that right now, though.

“Not any better, n-not any worse.” The fish box was nearly packed, but you paused to think for a moment. “Maybe I s-should try and catch. It pays a lot m-more, and we could use the money.”

He grabbed you by the shoulder and turned you to face him.

“You’d be scared to death. If your family needs some money, I can help out. It’s the least I can do when they offer me free lodging,” he half joked, completely serious in all aspects about the help with financial assistance.

“Lodging that y-you’ve never taken.”

“Listen, I’m happy to help if you need me to. Especially with your brother, now,” he mentioned, making you think about the sweet little sleeping face you’d passed by on the way out of your home. Your baby brother, born not a year ago. You hated the idea of him growing up hungry, or having to start work early in his life like you did.

“Well, t-thank you. I’ll think about it.”

He shook his head, seeing as how you quoted him from all the times your family offered him help before.

He waved you off when you finished stacking the prepared boxes onto your slab dolly, tilting it back and beginning to push it towards the truck that pulled in not too long ago. It was a steep climb, up the ramp from the docks and onto the street, but it made you quite strong over the years. That and all the heavy lifting, becoming easier with every twenty by thirty of fish.

Lukas would be taking off early today, as would most of the other boys of age. You would be heading home after loading this shipment as it were. You had to shower, had to clean up your hair and skin and make yourself presentable for the reaping.

You opened the back of the truck, tossing the boxes up one at a time, before climbing into it and stacking them neatly in one of the four corners. You always managed to obtain a single splinter from every shipment loaded, but luckily today’s wasn't too bad, you could probably dig it out with a small pin.

Later in the day, your mother gave you a solemn smile as you walked out the door, having just been readied and dressed in your best clothes. Even in a wealthier district, they still had mended holes in the bottom of your skirt. That’s the sad thing about every district. Even amongst the wealthier ones, there’s still poverty that simply cannot be helped. The Capitol's greed and thirst for luxury, needing every little thing that life has to offer at their beck and call. You can’t even imagine what it’s like in places like eight or twelve. Places where food is not the primary cultivation of the people.

It was light green, your outfit. It had white seashells on the waist of the top, and a few along the edge of the skirt as well. They hadn’t always been there, but you insisted they should be. You didn’t really have much else of a use for all the shells you stole from the sands of the shoreline. You hated wearing the same outfit to this single event every year. You hardly wore it any other time, which made a distaste for it grow every time it came out of your closet.

The way your mother did your hair was simple. A single french braid down the back of your head, tied off with a light green ribbon to match everything else. She watched how it fell a bit looser with every step you took, making your way across the streets and into the city’s center. It’s your last year, and having avoided every year before, you know you should feel a semblance of relief, but you don’t.

Your mother waits for the peacekeeper behind a stand to check your name off a list before she parts with you, hugging you tightly one last time and allowing you to kiss the head of the baby on her hip. He’s primarily the reason you remain so nervous. Even if your name doesn’t get called, his could be, someday.

You line up in an open space, next to the last girl that checked in. She wasn’t in your row last year, you would have remembered her. She was pretty, with blue eyes and dark raven hair. Her skin was tanned like most in four, but had a certain glow about it. She’s too pretty to be reaped, you thought. It didn’t make a difference, though. As you stared head on to the bowl on the stage, centered in front of the girl’s side, you got tense. Your name is in there six times this year. That’s three more than last year, and five more than the year before.

Someone could still volunteer. But the career program had not made mention of producing a female tribute this year. It all depended on the luck of today’s draw. For all you knew, your name would be surpassed by someone else. There were other poverty stricken areas in four besides yours, and it made sense that somebody else could have been hungry enough to outgo you.

You looked around to the boy's side. Lukas was there, and further up in the rows. He must have gotten here quickly after leaving the docks. His face was sullen, and something had changed, but you were unsure of what it was. When he looked around, you almost thought he’d been looking for somebody, but his expression told a far different story.

The last few children in the line were filing in, and the musical fanfare blasted through the speakers by the stage. You were grateful not to be so close to those this year.

His rabble was boring, and nearly the same as it was last time. The anticipation was killing just about every girl and boy in this crowd, knowing there were no careers at the ready this year. It was always easier to rest at night while knowing if your name was called, another courageous youngster would step in to take your place.

“I’m so excited to be back and reaping this year’s tributes for the 71st annual Hunger Games!”

There was a surge of excitement coming from the sidelines, and it was only now that you looked past the blockades to see that there were actual Capitol civilians standing there this year. How nice, some onlookers for when an innocent child gets sent away to their death. Absolutely wonderful. You looked on past them, towards the victors standing close by. They seemed anxious as well, the old woman holding one fist to her mouth while the other clutched her chest. She rocked back and forth on her heels, and had to take a step every few seconds to keep from becoming too restless. The young man was stiff, his arms behind his back and every muscle in his body tense as a board. His eyeline never left the bowls on the stage. They went through this once, too.

When you refocused on the man at the microphone, your heart beat rapidly. He was approaching the boy’s side of the stage.

After a small flourish of his hand, the Capitol rep stuck his hand into the glass, two papers in his hand before he dropped one. The dropped paper’s namesake got immensely lucky this year.

“Harley Miggsen,” he read the paper, but before the peacekeepers had a shot at cornering the poor fourteen year old kid, with his eyes wide in horror, another voice spoke up.

“I volunteer.”

Your head snapped to Lukas, his hand raised high in the air. Murmurs started almost immediately about how everyone thought there weren’t any careers prepared. They spoke softly and wondered if there would be a career for the girls, too. Lukas isn’t a career, why would he do this?

“I… guess we have a volunteer,” the man at the mic clapped his hand, watching the young man getting ushered up the stairs to stand beside him on the stage. “What’s your name, son?”

“Lukas Artanhour, sir.”

“Lukas Artanhour, everyone!” He raised his hand as to signal applause from the capitol guests, and they cheered, happy to see that there was now a potential victor as opposed to that poor boy from before. “Now for the ladies.”

You spared a glance at the victors once more, and they looked even more on edge for this pick than the last. Female victors were obviously more rare in every district, so getting a decent tribute that wouldn’t die right away was probably preferable. You couldn’t imagine all the people they’ve tried and failed to save over the years. The young man won only six years ago, but with no other victors since, that means he’s gone through twelve tributes. All dead, all gone.

Your mind had been momentarily distracted, or at least it had been until the next name came over the loudspeakers.

“Mercedes Blythe.”

It almost didn’t register.

It almost went in one ear and out the other.

It almost was paid no mind or attention…

But that is your name, and you’ve heard it said a million times since you were a baby. Not once did it ever sound like that, though.

You stood still until you realized there were peacekeepers on their way to grab you.

It was slow, the way you took steady steps from your row towards the stage. You couldn’t be rushed even if they tried to make you. You could only look at the ground. You didn’t want to chance looking up and seeing your mother past the blockades. God only knows what she’s thinking and feeling right now. After everything bad happens to a family, the mother of that family should not have to wonder whether her child will live or be killed in an arena.

You finally looked up when you got to the stairs, meeting Lukas’ eyes first, and seeing they were sad and full of pity. You stood beside the Capitol rep on the other side, allowing him to raise your hands together while the tears finally welled up in your eyes. The delay in your mind was the only one to blame for that.

“Ladies and gentlemen, district four’s tributes!”

Tags (open):

#finnick odair #finnick odair x reader #finnick odair x oc #finnick odair hunger games #finnick x reader #sam claflin #the hunger games

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sanscat0414 · 4 months

Text

I’ll be Here with You, Always.

Hawks x Reader

Scenario: The first time you opened up to hawks about your feelings of unhappiness. Hawks being there to comfort you.

Warning: one mention of thoughts of unliving oneself.

————————————————————————

There are times your are down but hawks will always be their at your fall. He will always be there for you. Loving and comforting you in your time of need just as you done for him.

Today was one of those days that you weren’t feeling the best. You’re always insecure, constantly worrying, constantly trying so hard to be a people pleaser. You want validation and you want to be needed. You were always known as the happiest person, you were who they came for when they need to cheer up. You had everything you wanted and needed. But why? Why do you feel so empty? As if you were not deserving of what you have? You always thought “no I should be happy. I have a good life and a good standing I shouldn’t complain. I shouldn’t be like this. I shouldn’t be ungrateful. So why am I sad? Why am I like this.”

When you met Hawks, he saw right through you. You were at the roof top of your apartment building staring at the lovely night sky contemplating. You would never do it, never jump but it’s not like you haven’t thought about it. Ut was one of those days. Hawks saw you looking so empty he naturally as a hero kept and eye for people like you in case you ever do jump. He flew towards you and landed behind you.

“Hey.”

You startled and immediately turned to see the #2 infront of you.

“Hi, uhh Mr. Hawks how can I help you?” You said with a smile.

“It’s just a bit windy your standarding a little to close to the edge~ you might wanna step back less you fall. But even if you do I’ll catch you.” Something about your smile has him worried for you.

You chuckled and said “thank you for the warning Mr. Hawks. But I am fine truly.”

“Something on your mind? If you like you can talk to me.”

“Don’t you have better things to do than have idol chitchat with me Mr. Big hero.”

“Even Hero’s need a little break form the chaos, beside its a great view here. So talk to me a little~” he said winking at you and walked next to you.

“Well I guess I was having a mediocre day. It just feels a bit… I don’t know meh. It nice to take a breath and just take in the view sometimes to organize your thoughts.” You said as with every word became quieter.

“I get it, the view is one of those things that just makes you happy, it’s beautiful and I’m lucky to have a great view always, in the sky.”

Oh how they were great memories, Hawks gave you his number after saying it be nice to have a buddy to hangout with without all the obligations of being a hero and who enjoys the peaceful skyline. Then about a year in to your unlikely friendship he asked you out. Of course you said yes. Eventually bit by bit he opened up to you, his childhood, everything and got to know him as Keigo Takami not just Hawks . But you, you hide your feelings, ‘happy’ as ever. Being trained to detect discrepancies in people Hawks picked up your not as much as a ‘happy go lucky’ type that most people saw you as but he never pushed you to tell him why. Hawks was patient, he wanted you to open up to him just as you had done with him.

Today it finally happened. You broke, your bottles up feeling started to get the better of you. Hawks was at work and you hid yourself under the blanket holding on to one of hawks spare jackets crying to yourself. You didn’t want to bother Hawks, after all the world needs him and it be selfish to take him away.

Meanwhile, Hawks was at meetings and he suddenly hears crying. He thought it was strange until he remembered some of his feathers was at home with you. He’d always kept a few lying around the house when he knows you’re there to keep you safe. He started to get restless as the meeting continued and his only thought was going back home to you. He used his feathers that was with you to scoop out the house just in case of a break it. Thankfully there wasn’t, but this meeting was with the commission so he had to be present. He wanted so desperately to just run to you at the moment. As soon as he was done he rushed out the door to your shared home.

“Babybird? You okay?” You heard.

You quickly whipped your tears and stayed in the blanket. You tried your best to act normal “yeah I’m fine, how come your home so early?”

“I was worried about you, I heard your crying wit. My feathers. Babybird you know you can talk to me okay? No matter what it is.” He said as he sat down on the bed with you facing away from him.

You were silent, you didn’t want him to know, you didn’t need him to know.

“Baby~” he said in the sweetest tone full of worry.

“… I’m fine, you should go back to work, people need you.” You said not daring to turn and look at him.

“You need me right now, love. Talke to me, I know something is bothering you. You know I’m literally trained to pick these things up right? It’s hard turning it off besides I like observing you and be dumbfounded by your cuteness and beauty.”

“It’s nothing. I don’t have any thing that bothers me. Life it great especially when I get to be with you.”

“Butt?”

You stayed silent as Hawks forcefully but gently make you turn to look at him. It broke his heart seeing you with fury puffy eyes and tear dripping down your face. You didn’t dare to stared back into his golden eyes. Golden eyes that always stared at you with nothing but love, shrinking and glistening like the stars. You alway loved looking at time.

“Y/n, whatever it is you don’t need to tell me. Just know when you need it I will always be there to hear you to listen. It don’t matter what it is, if it’s your day or just something small that made you upset. I’ll be here with you, always.”

‘I’ll be here with you, always.’ That last thing he said repeated in your mind. Keigo always had a way with words. You sat up had laid you head on to his chest as he gently wrapped his armes around you.

“Sometimes it’s just too much you know? I’m supposed to be happy, I’m supposed to be the one that had everything together, I’m suppose to be the care free one. I had great parents and friends to cherish me. I have you to love me. I have so much. People have it so much worse than me. Sometime I just feel I don’t deserve this, I don’t deserve to be happy… I don’t deserve to live. Everything just seem to bleek. So empty, so alone when I’m not. I know I’m loved so why don’t I feel it? Why am I like this. Why do I feel like I have everything but nothing. Why are you with me…. When I shown you nothing…. What do you love me…. Why!.”

“Sometimes it’s just like that, you think you done nothing but you do so much. So so much, sometimes you just don’t see it. As for why I love you, it’s because your loving, caring, you like dorky things that don’t make sense, you out up with my bird instincts and you always saw me as me, not some hero. You saw me as Keigo. Most of all you are you and nothing, NOTHING is more special than that. It’s perfectly fine to be sad, you don’t need to be what you think you’re supposed to be, you just need to be you. It’s okay, to not be okay. And when you are sad I’ll be here to help you through it, to be there with no matter how big or small. “

You cried holding him for along time. He held you close whispered sweet nothings to let you work through your feelings. He knows sometimes it better to just let it out, you taught him that. It’s something you never saw for yourself, so Keigo will be there to show you your own lesson. After a while you let go.

“I’m okay now thank you. You should probably go back to work. We can cuddle when you get home. Sorry for ruining your uniform with met tears. You said with a small smile.

A smile Keigo will never forget, as for the first time there was no sadness no emptiness in that smile just pure love.

“Never apologize for something like that, I can always just wash it. It’s worth it to see that smile.” He said kissing your forehead.

After changed he was ready to head out again. He holds you in his arms and said “You are worthy of love. I love you more than you will ever know. Don’t forget that”

It was then after almost two years of being together, you know he was the one you love most. He saw through you and brought the best in you. Keigo Takami, the man who never gave up on you, the man who shined like no other. He was your light, you star in your empty space, the one who gave you the courage to believe in yourself that you, Y/n L/n are capable to love and be worth of everything you have.

a/n: this was a self indulgent post, there will be days when you don’t feel good even if you don’t have a reason to. And sometimes it’s okay to be sad but remember that there is always light. It’s a reminder to all and myself sometimes it’s okay to let it out.

#bnha hawks #keigo #keigo takami #wing hero hawks #keigo x reader #hawks fluff #hawks comfort #hawks x reader fluff #bnha hawks x reader #hawks x yn #hawks x reader mha #comfort

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koalayoo · 6 months

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ᴀᴅᴍɪʀɪɴɢ ᴀʟʙᴇᴅᴏ

Found another piece of writing from 2021. Whoopsies part 2. I promise my writing has improved!! No warnings.

The two of you were sitting in a blissful silence. The cold air of Dragonspine brushing up against your body makes you shiver slightly but the fire near the two of you helped keep your body warm. The crackle of the fire was the only thing heard in the air besides the occasional hustle of the wind. Despite the harsh conditions of the mountain you two had found a sweet little spot down near the bottom of the mountain, keeping you partly covered from the cold wind. ‘You two’ referring to you and the blonde alchemist who managed to convince you once again to join him this afternoon to sketch the landscape.

You tried your best to not go. You really did! With excuses of being bad at drawing, that you couldn’t even draw a circle if you had to but that was swiftly shut down by him saying he had “faith in his ability to instruct and even more faith in your exceptional talents.” You just knew he was a secret sweet talker. That was a couple of months ago. Today was yet another day he “dragged” you with him to your spot although you didn’t miss the way he called it ‘our’ spot. For some reason the small change in wording caused a smile to take place on your face although Albedo paid it no mind.

Now here you two were, both standing behind a canvas as Albedo sketched away. Within these months and your frequent meetups, the alchemist taught you many tips and tricks on how to draw. Taking in the scenery around you once again, you couldn’t help but let your eyes latch onto the male in front of you every time you looked away from your canvas. Your hand moving on its own, attempting to draw the curves of his face. Your hand trying to replicate his soft features. His pale skin almost looked like the surface of the land you were on. His blond hair is slightly unkempt yet still looking effortlessly beautiful on him. Ugh, and don’t get started on those oh so enchanting blue eyes of his focused on the work in front of him before turning and locking his gaze with yours. His lips raised up in a gentle smile before looking back down.

What…?

Your eyes darted back onto your canvas.

Your chest feels weird. Almost suffocating. As if your heart were about to explode. The fast beats of your heart made you jitter. A sudden heat rushed up to your face and you suddenly weren’t freezing anymore.

What was happening?

You glanced up from the canvas that was hiding your frame and caught sight of the alchemist again. Your eyes looked away just as soon as they landed on him. Was he always so beautiful?

Your eyes then caught sight of your canvas… the one you attempted to draw Albedo on. Chuckling nervously you took your canvas off the easel. The blue eyed boy in front looked at you confused. You had only just got here, you were taking off again so soon?

Before he could even question what you were doing, you cut him off saying you felt a little unwell all while clutching the canvas in front of you. Holding it so close you could feel your fingers digging into it. Sure maybe if he saw it he wouldn’t take it so seriously but to you this was physical proof of what your admiration of the man turned into. Proof that he could occupy your mind, make you think about him in a way more than admiration. Proof that your trivial little feelings could fester into something bigger, something you knew would never get reciprocated, something you knew would never happen.

Giving him a smile you turned around and quickly walked away, desperate to get out of the cold, windy environment that had turned suffocating. The breeze that was caressing you not too long ago was now choking you, making you feel an uncomfortable lump in your throat.

If only you knew that on Albedo’s canvas was you.

Not sure if I like this one but wanted to share it anyways. Like, reblog and follow if you'd like <3 Support is always appreciated pookie.

#albedo x reader #albedo #albedo genshin impact #albedo kreideprinz #albedo x you #albedo fluff #genshin fluff #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact #koalayoo

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shinmelodia · 8 months

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Love & Process: blue (2002)

Hello to everyone reading, and welcome to a highly belated attempt to squeeze some of my thoughts and emotions through some semblance of a creative process and onto a page. Today, I want to introduce this blog by talking about a lovely film, blue (2002), directed by Hiroshi Ando and based on a manga by Kiriko Nananan.

Since I'm still somewhat new at diving into live action film, especially, like, uh, Japanese indie film, its helping to start with the yuri genre. Because like practically any other woman on this site, I quite enjoy lesbians. blue's manga original offers something of an alternative to the yuri norm, though, and the film follows suit. Both are definitely examples of the Japanese filmmaking trend I've heard of called "mumblecore," (or maybe mumble-komi for the manga equivalent) that most people know through the likes of Inio Asano's early work. Like Solanin or Girl on the Shore, blue is shoegazey, quiet, and contemplative, adorned with moments of subtle physical intimacy, layered emotion, and stunningly beautiful compositions of daily life.

My metric for these kinds of slow mood pieces, which I've previously tended to watch at random whenever the mood struck me, is that if my barely-medicated ADHD brain can even finish them, there's clearly something special going on. blue passed with flying colors; yeah, ok, it took two sittings, but I spent all of both enraptured, immersed, and invested in the mono no aware of silent, fragile love and messy asymmetry that formed this movie's emotional palette. blue is about love, of course, but its also about process and expression, both emotional and creative, and how processing things, artistically, verbally, non-verbally--is often required of real, human love.

In being about this, I think it did things for me that a lot of yuri often doesn't and gently hit me in a place that I really needed to be hit. So, let me get into it. This is going to be...very personal, and also obviously spoil the details of the film, if you care about that, although I'm sure there will be plenty of depth left in the text that I leave untouched. Whether you read it or not, I'll be happy I made it. Oh, and sorry if I come off as really New for being so struck by themes and aesthetics that are probably sort of standard for this type of film. I can't help what I feel like writing about, though.

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Kirishima Kayako lives in a small town by the sea, one much like dozens of other anonymous, disaster-prone exurban towns in Japan at the turn of the millennium. She rides the bus to her girls' high school every day, where she eats lunch with her friends and tries her best to learn something in class. Really, though, she's aimless, quiet, lonely, and introspective. She's trying, but its rare for others to be able to tell. She's also in love with her classmate, Endou Masami. When she confesses at the end of the first act, on a windy beach against the vastness of the ocean, Endou responds that she's glad, and the two become our lesbians for the movie. Kayako falls to her knees and cries in relief. Masami is different from the others--she sees how hard Kayako tried. Does that mean she loves her back, though?

Endou Masami has cool passions and interests; she collects American CDs, which she expertly critiques and describes while lending to friends. The mere view of her vibing to her American alt-rock while smoking a cigarette in front of her apartment window is album-cover worthy in itself. Kayako feels the same way: one of the most intimately gay scenes of the pre-confession portion of the film is when Masami lights a cigarette and asks if Kayako is shocked. The quiet girl declares without hesitation, "No, I'm admiring the way you lit the match."

The whole early film is such a delectable, lonely vibe. The slowly intertwining couple's solidifying dynamic is the kind that forms between an emotionally complex introvert and the perhaps even more unknowable yet somehow more confident object of their affection. The two are classmates, (there's no classic yuri kouhais and senpais here) but for the early part of the film we are seeing things from Kayako's perspective and Masami seems unmistakably older in spirit. There's something about the dense emotions conveyed in her gazes at her new girlfriend, the almost world-weary tinge of recklessness in her distant grins. She talks about music Kayako's never heard of and lends out books with Romantic-era paintings that she has well-formed thoughts on. Kayako even openly admits that if she could, she would want to be Masami.

I think we've all loved a girl like that.

It's a pretty typical experience in middle school or high school, for really anyone lonely who loves women, to be drawn to these sorts of sad, beautiful, oh-so-seemingly-complex femmes. I guess straight men have a similar thing going on with the whole Manic Pixie Dream Girl archetype, but for us women (or, women-to-be, at the time, I guess), the phenomenon of these people to us often involves a sort of existential jealousy. I'm not sure what is so alluring to other people about the sense that the object of their love has Something Going On that they are working through, or a vast and complicated life beyond the scope of one's understanding, but it me it always felt like something I was missing out on for myself. Obviously, a lot of their experiences and interests must be interesting and fun and super cool, you think, but even what pain you think they convey must be somehow more edifying than yours.

For me, the edifying aspect was the mere fact of femininity itself. The idea of a girl who has deep and Real emotions, who feels Real love and Real sadness and can actually express that in how she looks, beautiful and imperfect, always threw into stark contrast my own inability to express myself comparably. I was depressed, I was growing up, and I felt things, too, but, as someone who everyone thought was a straight boy and who was too scared to admit to being otherwise, I lacked that sort of beauty, that means of expressing what was inside me through fashion, makeup, book or music knowledge or taste. Or at least I thought I did. Thus, my own emotions must have also meant less. So, I ignored them and belittled them, and entire years passed before I processed a thing correctly. I always wanted to be some other girl. That was the only thing that would fix me.

I assume that the teen (and, uh, sometimes beyond) existential pining experienced by some other people in real life usually lacks the fun bonus that mine had of a screaming void where my femininity should have been, but I'm not sure how much this actually matters to the crux of the kind of experience I'm talking about. That some kind of void is there is all that matters, really, and its there for Kayako in her relationship with Masami at the beginning of the film. She has nothing, Masami is everything, and just being close to her is enough, for now. Just being noticed, just sharing something with her, is all Kayako feels like she can ask for.

Of course, this incomplete way of seeing love can't last, which brings us to the next part of the film, which starts when the two are hanging out and Masami reveals through a guarded, distant grin that she had an abortion a while ago. This isn't something that shocks Kayako or is really meant to shock the audience, and it isn't the big moment where she forced to reconsider her feelings. Rather, she asks how it went, and Masami responds honestly. She mentions she felt horrible the next day and had to be picked up by ambulance from the nurse's office, prompting Kayako to recall silently what to us was the film's first scene, a view from her window during class of an anonymous ambulance, sirens turned off, discreetly rescuing a student.

That she had this ambiguously traumatic, and at least unpleasant and potentially taboo experience is something that could have made Masami feel even older to Kayako, her pain even more distant and obscure. It certainly already is a way that Masami herself feels distant from others. Yet, by considering her own special, observant view of the ambulance back when it happened, it becomes one that Kayako can in some small way assertively share with her. Rather than continuing to put her lover's experiences on a pedestal, Kayako in this scene makes a silent decision to turn a blossoming mutual acceptance simply that they happened into a moment of true intimacy between the two, a sleepover punctuated by smirking kisses and satisfied cuddles initiated by each of them for the other. Despite her remarks that Kayako is weird for unhesitatingly wanting to stay with her, its an intimacy that Masami is happy to accept. This is all an important turning point in Kayako's development because she begins to choose insight, closeness, and assertion over the distant admiration that trapped her earlier.

As we go on, we'll start seeing how blue's gentle impact comes from the way it doesn't glorify or sugarcoat that earlier kind of unhealthy and immature dynamic. Instead it subverts it by giving Masami depth and Kayako agency, before reaching an endpoint that reflects on how the dehumanization of that kind of depressed, pining relationship can be overcome. In that sense, blue is a yuri romance mostly about the couple coming to accept their own and each other's humanity and capacity for expression. Like any good mumble movie, its full of long silences and almost unrealistically hesitant dialog, and doesn't give any explicit internal monologues like a lot of manga do. The world of this movie is one where expression is an uphill battle, something that has to be worked towards and struggled through. It's the world that Kayako and Masami share, in their own separate ways. And that's why its such a triumph to watch Kayako finally find her voice, her passion, and her process, which all starts in this scene.

First, though, it's time to learn about the Something that Masami has Going On.

Things begin when Kayako is still sleeping. Masami gets a call on her house phone that she doesn't answer, but that sends her into a silent spiral of emotional dread. She spends the next day at school in the nurse's office, refusing to tell Kayako what's going on and confiding only in her friend Nakano. Then, when summer break comes along, she disappears, leaving Kayako alone at home, pouring silently over the book of still life oil paintings that Masami lent her.

It ends up being Nakano who tells Kayako why she left. It's the story Masami didn't tell about the source of her abortion: an adult, married man whom she had a relationship with and eventually a pregnancy from. She got things taken care of without telling him, alerted her parents and tried never to see the rotten salaryman again. That is, until he called. He wasn't getting along with his wife anymore, apparently, and she had some sort of attachment to him that made her come running back. Her taste in music originally came from him, after all. It seems that, for the time being, her devotion to this mysterious, abusive man is going to perpetuate a brutal cycle: she'll keep hurting both Kayako and herself all at once.

What really destroys Kayako and her relationship, though, is that she lies about it. When she comes home after some predictably rough interactions with this guy, she tells her supposed girlfriend that she was enjoying a vacation with friends, and even gives her some grapes, supposedly grown in the prefecture she was hanging out in, as a twisted souvenir. The more assertive Kayako enforces her boundaries without hesitation, though, in equally as blunt a tone as she complimented her love, as when she told her she wanted to stay with her, all those nights ago. "Why are you lying to me?" Its with that same grin, now tinged with emotionally oblivious deception, that Masami dares to at first first feign ignorance.

"Eh?" Her smile is shallower than its ever been.

So Kayako walks away.

Their dynamic has now become worse than just immature; it's entirely toxic. From an outside perspective, Kayako is working on her shortcomings, while Masami refuses to reconcile her past. This kind of toxicity, though, is sadly just as common in high school (and even sometimes middle school) as is the kind of misunderstanding, lonely pining I talked about earlier, just usually among different sorts of people. Appropriately, its often even that exact kind of beautiful, hurting, mature femme (in the eyes of disastrous, moody lesbians like Kayako) who is going through that sort of pain. Its that mysterious and tragic byproduct of compulsory heterosexuality that causes a lot of girls to seek validation in the love of an older man, and that I imagine becomes a sort of addiction to that validation that only masquerades as love. Hell, Masami attributes much of what made her seem so interesting on the surface, her love of music, to this guy. She feels like she'd be nothing without him, and the way Kayako praised her, at least in the way she interpreted it, did nothing to dispel this fear. Which I think is really why she decided to go back, even though it would mean betraying the very girl whose love provided her an escape from it all.

Its an ugly truth, and its one that yuri media usually shies away from portraying, but it is explored with refreshing frankness and resolved with astounding maturity by the end of blue. And I think its the source material's status as "alternative" (I guess in Japanese parlance, Garo-inspired) manga, not to mention the movie's simply as an independent film, that allows it to break with genre limitations in this way. There's been tons of writing done on how yuri definitely presents a fantasy of the sapphic experience. Mainstream yuri's origins in Class-S still to this day often cause it to portray romances between women as fundamentally different, and inherently more pure, than those involving men, trapping them in a bubble of unassailable innocence. While that kind of makes sense and seems extremely cool to those of us who celebrate having little interest in moids or whatever, it also has the effect of sugarcoating and sometimes even outright obscuring what real women, even (and sometimes especially) sapphic ones, go through.

There's already a decent amount of yuri, especially among those aimed at older demographics and those where its more of a secondary genre, that do deal with compulsory heterosexuality and the experiences that come with it. What are much rarer are yuri series where one of the lover's flaws more resemble Masami's than Kayako's. Not enough that I've read at least is willing to make its relationships messy, or have one of its leads just do straight up bad things like self-destructive cheating and lying.

Because, really, its the same as what Kayako went through, isn't it? The lonely longing for something more that feels like it can only be cleansed by denying oneself all one has and betting it all on being close to someone else. The only difference between the two's actions is temperament and perhaps socialization--one sought it from a cooler woman, the other from an older man. And somewhere out of sight, that sad, irresponsible, fucked-up adult was probably hopelessly lonely, too, just like Kayako had to accept Masami was. Maybe disaster lesbians, disaster bisexuals(?), and yes, disaster straights aren't so different after all.

Well, other than that Kayako has worked to process her feelings, while Masami went and ruined her relationship over them. That's an important difference. Still, though, even Kayako has some work to do about how she feels about all of this. Masami's pedestal has been smashed, whether she likes it or not, and now she's lonelier than ever. So where does this vampiric cycle of taking from others end? What substance can replace loneliness in this ouroboros of etropic emotional alchemy?

Kayako doesn't touch the grapes. Instead, she silently processes things, lies on the floor listening to the cicadas scream in the garden. The grapes go rotten, and her brother throws them out. She sulks for a while.

Then, she starts painting. A still life of grapes, inspired by the books that Masami lent her. At first, her drawing is lousy, as the school fine arts instructor later tells her, but the colors are gorgeous. The deep purples of the fruits are expertly layered to capture light and tell a story, one deeper than the instructor could possibly imagine. It's the story not only of the transformation of a relationship, but of the growth of one of its participants. As the hot, still air of the coastal Japanese summer cloys around her lonesome final vacation of high school, Kayako finally salvages a passion to call her own out of a floundering relationship. When school starts again and she picks up art classes, going to Tokyo for uni, a dream that was previously held only by Masami, starts to be within her reach. She has a future, an interest, and a way to process all has happened to her.

And then comes the time for Masami to try and return. She proves unwilling to address all that happened before, instead trying to kiss Kayako after school in the art room. Her undeserved attempt at intimacy is rejected with a shove, but so too is her self-pity that causes her to instantly run away. There's more that needs to be said that simply "I'm a terrible person." Kayako pursues her into the town's small shopping district as night begins to fall and neon crackles to life against a cool late summer night. Now the emotional climax of the movie begins.

First, Kayako starts talking. She tells Masami about the painting, about her summer, about how lonely she was without her, about all the places she wanted to go with her. She talks about how happy she was at the same time that she found something she wanted to do without her. This approach is new for her. She's never so far relied on words so heavily to express her emotions. When Masami points this out, Kayako says:

This is how she's choosing to process things for the time being. At first, it was being silent to carefully consider her emotions. Now, its speaking up to keep them focused on what she really wants.

Then, its Masami's turn, for the first time, to tell the truth. By now they're away from the small cluster of lights, staring out at the blackness of the beach where they first got together. Masami broke up with the guy, she says. But she also asserts that she came to his emotional aid to begin with because she felt his need for help was more important than anything else to her. She couldn't tell her girlfriend this before, because doing so would mean telling a truth she didn't think Kayako could bear to hear: that he meant more to Masami than she did.

Kayako already knows this, of course. And by speaking up to quell her justified anger, by weaving words like the deft strokes of honest color on the tip of a paintbrush, she's gotten herself to a point where she can accept it, too.

I mean, think about it. Masami is broke now; Kayako needed to buy her a sandwich so she wouldn't be hungry on their impromptu date. Her sabotaging drive to be validated and her inability to accept love from the girl willing to give it has, by all accounts, ruined her life for the time being and harmed those around her. Even though she broke up with the guy out of necessity, or out of some fleeting impulse to run back to Kayako, she still feels like nothing without him. As she says to Kayako later, now the envy runs in reverse--Kayako is passionate about painting now, while Masami will still amount to nothing. Despite it all, though, Kayako is willing to love her. She's called Masami out on what she needs to be, then decided to stay nonetheless.

"I always come second. You broke up with him, so the number one spot is vacant. When someone else comes, you'll put him there...

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For most of my life, I believed that artistic expression was primarily the product of unrestrained, innate, and self-indulgent passion. I thought it was just something people either have or don't have, and that when they do, its something that can drive them to great heights of accomplishment and happiness otherwise impossible for humans to reach. It was mostly Japanese otaku media that instilled this into me, I think. I grew up exposed to a dizzying array of diverse and often miraculous artistic products that captured my imagination in ways the safe output of my own boring, monolithic home empire never did, and most of them were made by people who literally poured their lives into working on them. From Eiichro Oda's future-destroying, decades-long devotion to making One Piece to Kentaro Miura giving his life to practically paint the ceiling of the Sistene Chapel in pen on page after double-page spread in Berserk, to all of the hyper-passionate, universe-shattering early works of Hideaki Anno and his animator cohorts, I thought that I lived in a world of weird and wonderful treats whose cooks had the work ethic of demigods and the talent to match.

And even on the lower levels of the medium, among fan artists, cosplayers, writers, posters, historians, I felt surrounded by people who lived and breathed impossible passion, whose lives must have been defined by a kind of information processing my brain simply wasn't capable of. They had some ability to inhale the miraculous vapors of an abundant artistic landscape and spew out works of their own that further decorated the texture of a fleeting age of impossible marvels. And all that time, there I was, left on the sidelines, interested in many things but passionate about none, and lacking the motivation to really work to pursue anything at all. It was (and, honestly, still is) a state of existential discomfort similar to that sort of lonely-girl-pining, but doubtlessly far larger in scale. Some people had passion, while I had nothing to show for all my years of being alive. For fuck's sake, there was so much stuff out there, and I barely could muster the motivation to even read any of it most of the time.

After a while, I started to feel like I was simply broken, like I was an empty person that didn't belong in the very world I loved living in. And while I think this might be a niche outlook and insecurity (although one represented, to my profound gratitude, in Masami), I think it's also how a lot of people think about love. Love is often portrayed as a feeling sparked entirely of instinct, one that, when a person truly feels it, will never cause them to make any mistakes or do anything fucked up to those they care about. Something that will drive those bolstered by it to impossible heights, improve lives beyond the sorrow and loneliness to which they are otherwise condemned. But, as Kayako learned and as Masami and I are having to find out, that isn't really the whole story.

Expression is love. Love is process. Therefore, expression is also the labor of putting love through a process, of rigorously trying to get your ass in a seat and put in the steps of putting your feelings into form. As this is required of art, so is it required of relationships. And so the two are a cycle. Creation requires emotions to process; relationships require emotions to be processed. And the love that creation inspires feeds itself into the love for others that inspires the emotion to fuel more creation. A Labor of Love. Again, I know I'm New.

But this is what Kayako has been working up to all movie long, first with her silence, then with some words, then with the labor of painting, the iteration of getting better, then with more words again. She has found a slow cycle that is elevating her above her loneliness, a cycle that Masami helped create, and is welcome within, but that can, if need be, exist without her.

Love, labor, process. Expression, creation, process. Creating, processing, choosing...in the end, to do it all again. To stay with what--and who--you have labored to love. And that is the choice Kayako has made.

I have not yet answered what, after thinking and writing about this movie for days on end, might be the substance that can replace loneliness as fuel for the alchemical cycle of emotional taking and giving. By the end of the lovers' reunion, sitting by the road under the slowly-illuminating blue of a haphazardly-clouded dawn sky, Masami doesn't feel like she has an answer, either. She feels small and hollow, manipulative and weak. She's jealous of the coping strategy her own girlfriend has developed to deal with the effects of her bad behavior. So, in the end, what is she? What is there even left for Kayako to love?

I'll be honest, this feeling is so fucking real I get perilously teary every time I think about it. Because, for as much as I mused about Kayako's feelings resonating with me as a former and sometimes girl-piner, when it comes to my current relationship at age 22, it's Masami in whom I see myself most clearly and brutally. It's hard not to when she is the only representation in romance, let alone in yuri, I have seen so far who is as much of a fucking brat as I am at times. Whose tendency to sabotage her own relationship makes it so asymmetric that what her girlfriend feels appears almost one-sided, but whose love is real all the same. If she lacks process, talent, maturity, mystique, if no one is ever going to be good enough for her, then what at all does she have left?

The answer to all of this is the thing that lies at the core of her being, that makes her who she is. The source of her potential to express herself, the starting point of a process yet to fully begin. It's hard to see, but it's there. Its what makes her Endou Masami. And its what Kirishima Kayako loves the most.

It's color. It's the thing at the core of creation that can't be described with words, that forms the motivation for any process. Its the vivid purple of a painted grape whose intentional creation transcends deception and nurtures discovery. It's the blue of a dawning sky whose light guides two girls in messy, lopsided love back into each other's arms. It's Kirishima Kayako. It's Endou Masami. It's what everyone has, and it's all anyone has.

It's the source of love, its process, and its object.

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Eventually, Kayako has to leave for Tokyo. That's the decision that's best for her, and its a decision that, for the time being, will leave Masami behind in the countryside, hard at work on the process of learning to love herself. At the end of the film, she sends Kayako one final piece of proof of who she is. It's a painting of sorts, recorded on VHS, composed not of oil but of compressed light and sound. Stylistically, as the camera zooms in, it begins to resemble less Renoir and more Rothko: at first, its the beach, then, simply the point of the horizon, the area where the sea and sky meet. Its raw, not quite processed, pure color, vibrant blue, filtered and compressed into chunky, washed-out 800x600.

By way of description, "this is all I can do."

For years, I've struggled to believe that my emotions, hindered by depression and self-sabotage, have any value at all. As someone for whom love, passion, and expression have always felt difficult, even putting my thoughts down on a page, let alone drawing, painting, composing, or directing, has always seemed impossible. Recently, though, I've grown a lot. I've found the beginnings of a process learned to accept its existence. Both this process, and all the loves that go along with it, are often uncomfortable. They are painful and brutal and blissful things into which to pour the labors of communication and the torments of understanding. I've learned to process discomfort for the sake of creation, to create for the sake of love. It sounds cheesy, but again, I can't help what I wanted to write about.

I hope you'll join me as I find more new things and tough feelings I love to process on this account. There's so much more I'd love to say about blue, just for starters. I could talk about my undying appreciation for the work of Mikako Ishikawa, or how the shots in this movie are so gorgeous and evocative that I'd seen many of them before in "Japan in the 00s" vibes compilations.

But, until then, this is all I can do.

#japanese film #japanese cinema #yuri #yuri manga #lgbtq films #teen romance #pining #film analysis #personal essay #blue (2002)#kiriko nananan #mumblecore #long reads

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e-munson666 · 2 years

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Silk & Spikes (1)

+++Hunter Sylvester x F!Reader+++

(Hunters not sure what possessed him to pull over and offer you a ride home after spotting you walking in the rain, and he becomes overwhelmed by you once you get into his car)

Warning ⚠️: none other than some language. angst??, mostly fluff] everyone is 18 in this fic

🖤xoxo

Hunter wasn't oblivious to you, how could he be? You were one of the few people at school that he didn't absolutely despise. He'd caught you in the front row of Skullflowers set at battle of the bands last year and had a very large crush on you ever since.

He thought of that night a lot. For the obvious reasons like his band fucking shredding, but he also thinks about it often because of you. He noticed you in the crowd immediately once he got on stage. Standing right in the front row, smiling up at him. Your pretty pink dress, fishnets, and heels were enough to make him drool, loving the rough edge the tights gave your silky pink dress.

You were one of the prettiest girls and school, and he knew there was a long line of better people out there than him trying to get your attention. He did however notice that you often giggled softly at the stupid shit he said, so Hunter used that to his advantage.

Just today, in 6th period he was sitting right next to you drawing a crude picture of the teacher being speared in the balls by Satan. When he finished the drawing he nudged you and pushed it slighting towards you. He watched your face as you look up at him with wide, shocked eyes and he thought he fucked up, until an outrageously loud laugh came from next him, and he saw you giggling uncontrollably, almost getting you both in trouble. His ego was inflated 10 fold for the remainder of the day.

When the final bell rang he rushed out to his car, jacket over his head, to shield his hair from the downpour of rain that had been falling all day. Hunter is about to pull out of the school parking lot when he notices you walking in the other direction he'd planned on going. Its windy on top of the pouring rain, and he watches you wabble unbalanced as wind hit you, making you trip.

In that moment Hunter doesn't even think about his next actions. He pulls up close to you and stops, rolling down the passenger window and yelling your name. "Hey, Y/N" he yells, startling you. "Oh shit, my bad, I wasn't trying to freak you out" he pauses as you turn to look at him. He can't help but think about how beautiful your face looks drenched in rain, hair sticking to your cheeks.

"Why are you walking in the rain?" He blurts out without realizing it. You smile at him and tilt your head. "I don't know Hunter, it's almost like I didn't have a choice" you roll your eyes, starting to turn away from him before he speaks again, "Wait, let me give you a ride" he nods for you to get in. "Are you serious? I'm going to get your seat drenched!!" you point out, while Hunter just shakes his head at you.

He leans over and opens the passenger door, "just get in the fucking car!" he chuckles. You roll your eyes at him again, and slide into the passenger seat, shutting the door behind you. For a moment you both just sit there in silence, until Hunter looks over and sees you violently shivering.

He grabs his Denim vest/thick black sweater combo from the back seat and holds it in front of you. "No I couldn't, im already ruining your seat I can't!" you don't get to finish before Hunter is throwing up his other hand at you "Oh my God, can you not be so difficult and just take the fucking sweater, your clearly freezing!" he sighs, trying to fake annoyance.

Your face lights up and you giggle, the one that sends shivers down Hunters spine every single day as you take the sweater from him. Your fingers graze each others for a moment during the exchange, before you quickly put your arms through the sleeves and wrap the oversized material around your body.

He sat next to you in absolute adoration. The sight of you being swallowed by his sweater and favorite vest made his heart thump almost painfully. He quickly snaps out of it and turns the dial up on the heater before putting the car in gear. "So, where do you wanna go?" Hunter asks, looking over to see if you have stopped shivering. You are still hugging his sweater next to you, smiling. Hunter swore he'd just caught you inhaling his scent on the fabric. (He was correct)

"Well unfortunately for me no one will be home to let me in, and I forgot my key, in my jacket.....that I left in my locker...." you sigh, annoyed with yourself. "So unless you want to be stuck with me for 4 hours you can just drop me off at the coffee shop on the corner."

"Or......?" Hunter starts, looking over to see you, face buried in his sweater except for your eyes, trying to hide a huge grin. "Or, you can come to my place and see where Skullflower makes their music?" he says, feeling confident as he watches your eyes gleam. "Yeah, I would definitely be down for that!" you say, grinning so wide your cheeks were sore.

Before he realizes what he's doing he reaches over and grabs one of your hands, and sets it in his lap, holding it for the duration of the short ride to his house.

His mouth was dry, palms sweating when you didn't pull your hand away, but instead just intertwined your fingers with his, and let out a content sigh. "I have a shot" he thinks to himself. "I have a fucking shot"

(Pt2)

#fanfic #hunter sylvester #metal lords #hunter x reader #hunter sylvester x reader

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chlstarrbaby · 1 year

Text

Neighborhood Academy AU Part 3 (FINAL)

Part 1 Part 2

Trigger warnings: Angst, depressing thoughts, and brief mentions of suicide, unreality. Obsessive!Wally.

xxxxx

Another start to the same Sophomore school year, another attempt at getting things right this time. He had to make sure everything was right this time, he had to make sure he could keep you safe. He’s lost you too many times to count, he’s not certain he could handle going through that anguish again.

“Morning Wally!” Julie greeted him as he crossed the threshold of the Academy’s grounds. “Did you hear the news? We’re getting a transfer student this year! And they’re gonna be in our Homeroom! I overheard Ms. Poppy complaining about it to Professor Pillar the other day, Sally’s still in her Homeroom so-!” And so it began again.

Wally nodded along in feigned interest as he heard her spiel for the umpteenth time. He didn’t even notice when the fans that called him the prince of the school started cooing and aweing at his glorious visage.

He did notice however, when you took that entire crowd away from him effortlessly, even if it was an accident, he was more furious that all those eyes were on you, surely they’d see you for the beauty that you were and plan their own attempts to make you theirs! He most certainly couldn’t allow that.

You did throw him off, with your greeting to the crowd, calling all of them dorks for not near their respective Homerooms and fawning over him instead at the moment. But what infuriated him was that you never looked at him, you kept your eyes closed when facing out and addressing the crowd, and turned to actually go into Homeroom without opening your eyes once!

Wally knew you wouldn’t have much choice but to look at him when it came to introducing yourself, after all, Julie was with him and she overheard an important part of your conversation with Eddie and Frank, that being Sally’s auditions were this evening…which was odd. Julie was right, they usually were held the next day after the first day of school.

This really was a new loop, though your uniform choice should have tipped him off. You were wearing the skort with suspenders, and white button up. Usually you wore pants or shorts and completed the look with the blue cardigan, but some days you would rather show the suspenders, never mind that it was rare that you had the courage to wear a skirt especially when it was windy. Regardless you looked adorable in it, he wholly approved, but after you nodded at Julie in acknowledgement, your face fell from its polite smile completely at the sight of him! He was certain you paled even, but then color quickly rose to your cheeks. He breathed a sigh of relief as he had put on his best charming smile for you.

Sadly Howdy had to interrupt you from introducing yourself too soon, as it really was best to introduce yourself to the entire class. Wally thought it was adorable that you advertised Sally’s rehearsals as a reminder that they were later today for once. Then as you went to your seat that happened to be next to him, you apologized of all things! Did…you sense his frustration? In any case, of course he forgave you, it was your first day of school all over again, you didn’t know. Even better, you seemed much more relaxed now that his gaze on you was relaxed. He was glad for that.

He enjoyed watching you take everything in, out of the corner of his eye mostly so you wouldn’t get too suspicious, but of course he would occasionally steal glances whenever you were excited to answer a question you knew the answer to. You were so enchanting, how could he ever really keep his eyes off of you? But he did have to remind himself to be patient. This was a new loop that hopefully could be broken this time, he was going to make sure of that.

Wally did his best to not coo at your pout when classes ended for the day, such a thirst for knowledge! It was so admirable, just like you. But then you brightened up as your fingers grazed the flier for Sally’s auditions this evening, you looked up and you were definitely about to ask someone to show you where they were being held, but before Wally could even get a word in to offer, Julie snatched you up right away! He couldn’t help the intensity of his gaze at your back, it was more directed at Julie, but your visage was lovelier.

He sighed defeatedly before rounding up the rest of the boys to follow.

What luck that Sally picked The Phantom of the Opera this time! Not that any of his friends retained memories of past loops like he did, but he did have to wonder if Sally did or not, or at the very least her artistic soul could feel when a play or musical had been done before, not once yet had anything been done twice, and that was impressive.

Naturally Wally was a shoe-in for the Phantom, and Frank was perfect for Raoul. He was surprised…that you auditioned for Meg Giry…He knew you were a shoe-in for Christine, but that went to Julie. The blonde and brunette roles were switched for this version of the musical since Sally was happy to produce it and play Carlotta herself.

Still…the fact that you chose to be a minor part…had him on edge…did you suspect something? He tried to read your surface thoughts, but you were always singing something in that pretty head of yours so he could never get a straight answer…not until you got to know him well enough for him to ask you. Which he did, after a few weeks into the school year.

“You could’ve gotten the part for Christine easily you know, so why didn’t you?”

“And have to hit high E notes for a month? No thanks, playing Meg is just fine, even if the poor thing gets written horribly in the sequel.” You answer honestly, but it sounded like you had some suspicions.

Your answer made him laugh, monotonous, but close to a belly laugh, he couldn’t blame you for an answer like that.

“I suppose you’re right about that. But I guess I was really wondering if you also chose it to avoid me.” He couldn’t help but clarify ever so slightly. He needed to know, he had to know. What made you tick this time?

You hesitated as you thought about the wording of your answer.

“At the time of the auditions perhaps, but even then I thought you would’ve refused to be the Phantom since you prefer to be so handsome all the time. But Raoul doesn’t sing as much so I don’t blame you for preferring to show off either.” You reply earnestly, then added an afterthought. “Besides, I assumed you and Julie were an item, was I wrong?”

“Yes, actually. She and I are just friends, have been since Kindergarten along with Sally, Frank, Eddie, and Barnaby. Howdy and Poppy are our neighbors too so it's always weird having to refer to them formally in the school’s public.” Wally had chuckled monotonously again, quite mirthfully as a weight had been lifted off of his shoulders. He was so relieved your answer was so simple.

“Fascinating to know, but it still sounds like you really want to ask me something deeper though, so what is it that you really want to ask?” You queried suspiciously.

“Why have you really been avoiding me since the first day of school?” He asked darkly in his own suspicion. He couldn’t help it, he had to know for certain so he could pace himself properly. Were you already frightened of him?

“Several reasons actually. First and foremost, I’m certain now that I ticked you off at least twice that very first day. Second, I didn't really want the drama of the ‘new transfer student’ and the ‘prince of the school’ and any rumors to follow, ‘cuz you know that’s gonna spread like wildfire. Thirdly, let’s face it Walls, you’re too pretty for me.” You closed your locker as you had retrieved all your stuff for the day. That last one was said in a slightly agitated tone, as if you had long since resigned to your fate of most likely being a single pringle of the fact that you didn’t think you were beautiful enough to have a significant other.

Well now, Wally couldn’t have that.

So he kabedonned you, punching poor Joe Schmoe’s locker hard enough to leave a dent. He felt no regrets or remorse for it. You were far more important.

Of course you yelped, he punched a locker and stopped you in your tracks! You looked up at him in confusion all bleary eyed since the tears were a little more prominent now that you couldn’t help it. Shoot, you were crying about something, he had to fix it!

“You’re the one that’s too pretty for me, dear neighbor.” Wally replied calmly, the little pet name referencing the fact that you sat next to each other in class and your lockers were in the same area.

Your face went through a myriad of emotions as you were clearly thinking of what to say in return before finally settling on a witty but definitely a self deprecating comeback.

“If I had a nickel for every time someone told me that…I’d only be five cents richer but at least it's something, though it’s not enough to buy me anything these days.” You quipped rawly, making sure the frustration in your tone was obvious. Finally you broke away from him by going out the opening he left and around his backside to continue on your path to Homeroom.

Wally spaced out trying to process the meaning of what you just said, hardly able to comprehend how little you thought of yourself, then he suddenly realized you weren’t in front of him anymore as he suddenly looked around for you before finally spotting you on the stairs.

“(Y/N), Wait! I really do think you’re beautiful!” He called after you, inwardly hoping he sounded desperate enough to break through any surface sad thoughts of your self image.

But apparently you weren’t having it.

“Save it for your reflection, pretty boy!” You retorted over your shoulder with a quick, icy glare.

It was admittedly cute how you thought you could scare him away, even if it was with a pitifully weak backhanded compliment. But little did you know that he was fully prepared for the long haul and was willing to do whatever it took to wear you down.

He brought you flowers everyday until you told him reasonably that you had no place to put them, and it was annoying to keep them at your desk for the entire school day. He then settled for bringing you chocolates everyday, but you always shared them with the others when they were meant solely for you.

Wally thought he was pretty clever getting the Academy’s cheerleading squad to spell out your name in a cheer, but your witty innuendo of a comeback was too much for his heart to bear so that turned out to be a one time thing.

He was all too happy in serenading you with That’s All I Ask of You under the guise of practicing for the musical, but eventually had to stop because of noise complaints.

The principal may have socially stopped his antics from getting more out of hand, but it was you with your clever little spritz bottle and threatening to undo his precious pompadour that made him ease up almost completely. He had to keep showing his affection to you in little ways like the love notes he would pass to you in class after all.

Sally wasn’t always capable of casting him as your opposite in any other plays or musicals to follow, after all most of the time she needed him to be the male lead as he was the strongest to do so, that frustrated him more than anything, but he would patiently wait for the day that you would be the female lead for once.

While he was a tad devastated that one day he managed to set you off enough to actually spray him with water and unfurl his hairdo, the precious tint to your cheeks was worth it. Even if he sincerely hoped you would never do it again.

xxxxxxxxx

One morning was more interesting than the last dozen had been in a while, but it only put Wally on edge more than anything. He kept seeing you more times than were actually happening. All of them in different variations of the Academy’s uniform, but he had trouble picking out which one you really were, so he kept asking Julie if she had seen you. She hadn’t, but she knew you entered the same side of the school as Frank and Eddie and even raced to Homeroom with them.

A stray thought of a past loop entered his mind then, was today the day you tripped and fell in his arms as he literally swept you off your feet?

He hoped not, he was on the wrong side of the school to get to you in time for that particular event. And the fans of his handsome visage were already crowding this morning.

Julie filled him in on the latest as always, he had gotten the male lead again for Grease, Julie herself being his opposite again, and you were playing Rizzo, while Julie’s sisters played the other members of the Pink Ladies. He thought for a moment that he would’ve preferred that you played Frenchy so he could croon to you for Beauty School Dropout, but alas. The throwaway line of being old flames would have to suffice.

The crowd of fans was worse than usual today, and they were getting a little pushy with each other. Then he heard you suddenly shrill for everyone to scatter because Homeroom was starting, his heart dropped into his stomach. How could you be so tactically stupid?! You were going to get trampled by this stampede of students!

Wally actually had a little trouble finding you in the crowd, many of them had a similar look to the back of their heads as you did, but he was looking for you facing forward and most likely shielding yourself from the onslaught of bodies running in your direction. He found you eventually, as much as he wanted to shield you with his own body and hold you close, he knew you probably wouldn’t like that at the current stage of your friendship, so he settled for grabbing you by the wrist and slowly wading through the sea of students to get to the safety of Homeroom.

He turned to you once completely safe, unable to help the sternness of his gaze, silly, silly neighbor. You paled completely at him, he read your surface thoughts to make sure you weren’t completely afraid of him in this instance, but you were too frazzled to read properly, something else seemed to have spooked you, that much he could glean, but he couldn’t tell what.

“What were you thinking, neighbor? You could have been trampled.” Wally made sure to keep his tone level to not frighten you further, but you still needed a little reprimanding. What you just pulled was completely uncalled for, you could have been hurt and he wouldn’t have been able to stop it in time!

“I was gonna be late, and so weren’t they, risky as it was, there was a benefit for everyone. Besides, raining on your pretty boy parade is still fun.” You tell him snarkily as ever. Oh how he loved your gumption.

Still, as much as your last sentence was a backhanded compliment, he appreciated that you still called him pretty. He couldn’t help but cheekily comment on it.

“You still think I’m pretty after all this time?” His grin grew as he asked.

“I may be shorter than you, but I’m not blind… You’re still way prettier than me anyway.” You lost your snarky bite the second you compared his beauty to your own again. Shoot! Tears in your eyes! Not his intention to make you cry over this again!

He grabbed your wrist again as you passed him by, careful to not bump shoulders, he could see. But he had to get something through that stubbornly thick skull of yours.

“How can I get it through your head that you really are beautiful, (Y/N)?” He asked, hoping the soft desperation of his voice could get through this time.

You chuckled…darkly of all things…he was almost intimidated by it…Almost.

“You could carry me to Homeroom like what Eddie does for Frank, but that’s not very neighborly of me to ask and it would really rain on the timing of your pretty boy parade. Otherwise, there just isn’t a way for you to get it through my head since it’s my demon to bear.” You only turned your head a little bit to him so he could hear you, but you still didn’t face him. At the last sentence you snap your wrist out of his hand and head to your seat.

It was a tad disappointing that you didn’t face him head on when you said all of that, but he would be patient. Class was starting, and Wally ran out of time to say anything in reply anyway. He would try to approach you at lunch, but to no avail, you hadn’t even joined your collective friends at the lunch table today. But Barnaby went to go make sure you were okay. He had accepted that fact, out of all your collective friends, Barnaby was the last one for you to warm up to aside from Wally in all technicalities. So he let you have your bonding moment with one of his best friends.

However it seemed that Fate decided to not be kind to him today as he suddenly heard the ear splitting and bone chilling sound of what sounds viscerally like a window breaking, but is actually a body hitting pavement from a high altitude. He only knew that from other failed loops. Wally only knew it wasn’t you here and now because none of the others seemed to hear it, but he kept hearing it, as more bodies from other failed loops bled into this reality, just to torture him.

It made him panic enough that he had to ask again where you and Barnaby went to eat lunch.

“I’m pretty sure they went to the roof. Which is a really creative spot, we’ll have to join them sometime when they’re feeling up to it!” Sally answered wistfully, already looking forward to the time to do just that.

Wally on the other hand felt his heart drop down to his stomach in dread he was careful enough to look calm to the others, but inside he was panicking. He thanked Sally before heading off to get to the roof.

A mantra of denial was flying through his head. He couldn’t lose you again, he couldn’t go on without you, not like this! You haven’t shown enough signs this time, this is too soon! You still had the spark to banter with him even if you keep doubting yourself at times, so why…?

He couldn’t focus on the whys or the hows, he was only focused on getting to you, and stopping you from making a terrible mistake. He couldn’t help but curse himself for not being able to get through the school year without you being intact. Worse, he couldn’t remember what uniform variation you were wearing today, he was too panicked to remember, all his brain cells running on adrenaline and working towards where his feet were taking him.

So he didn’t think enough of it when he saw you standing on the edge of the roof across the way from the doors in pants, as he called out to you desperately, begging and pleading for you to stay, he would do anything please don’t you dare…!

If I fell through your skies there’s no way you would catch me.

Wally was deaf to hearing your voice (and Barnaby’s) come from a different direction, even when you grabbed him to slow him down, he kept trudging on towards your figure on the edge. Until you grabbed his face and turned him around, and covered his eyes with your arm, barking a plea to Barnaby to back you up.

You called his name again, and with one of his most important senses dulled, your plea broke through this time. His voice was hoarse as he whimpered out your name again to make sure it was really you.

“That’s my name, don’t you dare wear it out. I’m gonna move my arm now okay?” You reply lightheartedly, making sure to warn him of your movements.

“Okay.” Wally said nervously. So you remove your arm and return its position by cupping his other cheek.

Panicky as he still was, you were still a delightfully welcome sight for his sore eyes. You were even nice enough to walk him through some breathing exercises to help him calm down, and when he felt much calmer with his breathing a lot less labored he asked to hug you. And you miraculously agreed.

You held him warmly and securely around his middle, and he certainly needed it right now, happy to have Barnaby completely take over anything else in his peripheral. He didn’t even process you speaking over his shoulder at what he thought was you, he did catch the wish for happiness. That sweet sentiment made him tighten the hug a little, not uncomfortably, just a squeeze.

“C’mon, Wally, Lunch is just about over, let’s go ask Ms. Poppy if we can bake apple pies today.” You suggest lightly, slowly easing yourself out of Wally’s embrace at least.

“Ha ha ha. Okay, neighbor. But I still don’t see how there are apples in them.” Wally replies with his usual monotonous chuckle. You and Barnaby join him in that as the three of you pack up your belongings and head back downstairs to deal with the remainder of the school day.

xxxxxx

Naturally it didn’t quite end there, but neither you nor Wally were willing to talk about this in front of Barnaby, he would blap about it to one of the others, there was no way this was appropriate for any of them to know about.

So you decided to tell Barnaby that you would take Wally to the nurse’s office for a mental health break, with a hopeful promise to not tell the others. It shouldn't take too long to miss much of the next class, but you and Wally really needed to talk about this.

Barnaby thankfully understood completely and went on ahead to class to join the others and fill them in on the bare minimum of information.

You could only hope his excuse to the others was absolutely NOT going to be something about you and Wally making out. You weren’t sure you could survive Sally’s and Julie’s ridicule if he did.

“So….you can see them too.” You began skeptically once the two of you were in a nurse’s office, who was super nice as mental health needs for a quick break despite class times were absolutely a thing and wrote up a note for you both to show the teacher later when you were ready.

“Yes, this was the worst it's ever been…How familiar are you with time loops?” Wally answers and then asks a question of his own before he continues.

“I’ve read a lot of stories with them. That explains a lot actually. I may have been seeing things a bit every now and then, but today all those…visions of otherwhens…really made themselves known.” You say, and go on to describe your morning stumble, blushing when you get to describing him having caught you and that’s why you spurred him on with a joking request that you really didn’t mean.

“Makes me want to carry you every morning all the more, to make sure you’ll stay safe.” He all but purred.

“That just brings me to my next question, if this is a time loop…and I saw at least two other mes on that roof…does my…untimeliness restart the loop?” You worded things carefully, not wanting Wally to get panicky again.

“As far as I know…I haven’t made it through the entire Sophomore year yet because of… that.” Wally also words carefully, in part to stave off his own nerves, and to keep things vague because of the nurse in the room adjacent to give them the space needed for their mental break.

“Lovely. Well, if it makes you feel any better, I have no intention of…being a coward about life. Sorry there’s no better way I could think of to word that.” You apologize, not just to Wally, but to other versions of you that were possibly getting glimpses of this particular conversation.

Wally shook his head, honestly feeling like you didn’t need to apologize for voicing an honest opinion. “All I can ask is for you to stay.”

“Of course,” You say automatically. “But not for you. I’m doing this for me and the other versions of me whatever their reasons may have been.”

You also firmly state that currently you have no interest in going steady with him, not until you make it out of the loop. And of course you do, but you may or may not still want to not be in a relationship with Wally. You’re fine being friends, and otherwise your fate is yours to choose. He’s perfectly happy staying friends, even if he would prefer something more, he respects your boundaries.

Tagged peoples:

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#Welcome Home ARG #Wally Darling & Reader #Wally Darling x reader #Wally Darling #Julie Joyful #Barnaby B. Beagle #Sally Starlet #Frank Frankly #Eddie Dear #Howdy Pillar #Poppy Partridge #TW: suicide mention #Obsessive!Wally Darling

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