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#love me some paralles

intomybubble · 2 years

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Other than the voices for delinquent type dudes like kanata yatonokami and satsuki ito from paralive, and dice arisugawa, kuko harai, and jiro yamada from hypmic i really like the sorta drowsy airheaded type of voices

like kanata shinkai from enstars, floyd leech from twisted wonderland and misumi ikaruga from a3!

#desiree talks #some good shit i love it #i still want a proper delinquent type from genshin btw #a lot of the characters are pretty upstanding and stuff so after a while it gets sorta boring #the only real delinquent type is itto #but hes more of a himbro than a guy who’d spit on your shoes #scara is sorta there but hes more like paralive hajun where hes a rich kid abandoned by his parents #his voice is also azuma from a3 and i cant not associate them together #please give me a proper delinquent #i beg of you

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razorspidey · 17 days

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intro ⋆ READ B4 INTERACTING ⌁

my name is ajax/reo (you can call me either of those names) my pronouns are he/xe i am a minor (i'm 4teen) and i used to be @spinnspidey and @radiospidey and @knifespidey (that was the more known one) but i got t worded (again...). to whoever got me t worded, block dnt report. thanks!! ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა yeah so heres my intro. i'm a little bit of a weirdo if i do say so myself and i'm heavily tumblr obsessed so yeah i'll be on here nd i'll probably post a lot ^^ i'll post whatever goes through my mind which might be bad so warning on that. i might show symptoms of mental illnesses and if i do then mb idk not really my problem… but heads up i WILL say shit that shows that im not doing great. please do not try to save me or smth. also im looking for friends so bmf i promise im nice. DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT PROMOTE ANYTHING THAT I POST. I AM POSTING AS A WAY TO VENT.

more info + stats under the cut!!! (tw for talking about sh + ed. don't like, don't read.)

sh﹐tw . . . ⋆ i have been cvtting since 2022 ⋆ i have hit styro ⋆ only styro on my thighs ⋆ i am not allowed to cvt anymore (unfortunately) ⋆ i have cvt my thighs, arms, stomach, and neck ⋆ most scars on thighs + arms ⋆ mostly cat scratches ⋆ all scars have healed (or are almost done in the process of healing) ⋆ my parents found out so i can't do it for now... (⇀‸↼‶)

ed﹐tw . . . ⋆ i have always hated my body ⋆ started trying to lose weight january 2023 ⋆ started around december 2023 (probably before, like over the summer but idk...) ⋆ 160 cm (last time i measured myself at least..) ⋆ sw 57.6 kg (bmi 22.5) ⋆ cw 51.2 kg (bmi 20) [will update every morning] ⋆ gw 1 50 kg (bmi 19.5) ⋆ gw 2 45 kg (bmi 17.6) ⋆ gw 3 40 kg (bmi 15.6) ⋆ ugw 38 kg (bmi 14.8) [or lower tbh...]

dni . . . ⋆ basic dni (idrc ngl, do what you want but don't report me thanks) ⋆ judgmental people ⋆ overly sensitive people ⋆ people who aren't ok w dark topics/get uncomfortable by stuff like that (this is more for you than for me, i dont wanna make anyone upset) ⋆ people who get triggered by talking about sh, ⭐️ving, alcohol, etc… (yes i am aware that it's bad, no don't come to my dms with a savior complex telling me to get help. i'm trying to get help) ⋆ i block freely btw cuz ik a lot of ppl dont respect dni lists + theres people who are unavoidable at times…

byi . . . ⋆ if you interact with me, i might seem excited n stuff ⋆ i might sound like i'm flirting but i'm not (i have a partner and i love them) ⋆ i can make a lot of sex jokes ⋆ i am very immature ⋆ dnt try to "fix" me, i'll probably block you or ignore you ⋆ i'm a little unusual so yeah ⋆ dnt be scared to interact w me i luv talking to peopleヾ(≧∇≦)ゞ ⋆ i am not pro €d or $h i just post about it and my experience…

fandoms . . . ⋆ hypmic (hypnosis mic) ⋆ genshin impact ⋆ paralive (paradox live) ⋆ servamp ⋆ tougen anki ⋆ karneval ⋆ bsd (bungou stray dogs) ⋆ seraph of the end ⋆ litc (lost in the cloud) ⋆ kagerou daze ⋆ the case study of vanitas ⋆ pandora hearts ⋆ enstars (ensemble stars) (i am KIND OF a part of it because my ex filled me up on a lot of lore when we were together…) ⋆ pjsk (project sekai) ⋆ theres probably some others but i forgot…

interests . . . ⋆ vkei ⋆ scene ⋆ anything bloody ⋆ cannibalism (ooh edgy) ⋆ tortures ⋆ psychology ⋆ music (i listen to vkei, scene, metal, etc…) ⋆ vampires ⋆ fanfiction (mostly genshin but other stuff occassionally) ⋆ true crime (im not tcc) ⋆ rarepairs (mostly genshin) ⋆ bats ⋆ writing ⋆ books ⋆ etc… ⋆ btw if youre interested in any of these or are interested becoming friends PLEASEEE message me 🙏🙏😓 im looking for friends pleaseplwaseplease

tags . . . ⋆ i tag all my posts with #razorspidey ⋆ i tag my normal posts with #razorspideys normal posts, meaning they are unrelated to $h and/or €d related things ⋆ i dont have a specific tag for $h/€d/vent related things so beware. i usually put a warning on all my posts like that at the end of the post tho ⋆ i tag my moodboard with #razorspideys moodboards ⋆ i tag stuff about me/my life as #razorspideys diary ⋆ i tag my rants/more serious posts with #razorspidey rants ⋆ block any of those tags or my blog if you do not wish to see it!!!

other links . . . ⋆ fanfic/dead dove: do not eat blog ⋆ poem blog ⋆ carrd

remember!!! block DONT report this blog if you need to ^^ this blog is meant as a way to vent my feelings/talk about my feelings so please don't dm me about how its bad. i am aware.

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yuitoru · 6 months

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Hello! if that's okay I could order some hdcns for cozmez + gklck (but if there are many then only cozmez + kenta and ryoga) where his fem reader is a ray of light who works hard to prepare adorable cupcakes to give to the fans as a token of gratitude for going to support them, It makes me laugh to imagine mc at the end of the show like "thanks youu , come back soon *greetings greetings* :D " jeje XD

that's all hehe I'm glad to see a new blog that write for paralive welcomeeee ^-^

a/n: hii!! yess i already love paralive so much i look forward to the new eps every week kjfirj also i js wanted to say that im not that familiar with the characters not yet introduced in the anime, so ill try my best for ken and ryo from their wiki pagesss imsosorry :((

ʚ ₊˚✧ ⠀⠀⠀ CUTEST CUPCAKE !!

incl : k.yatonokami , n.yatonokami , k.mikoshiba , r.tosa

₊˚✧ KANATA YATONOKAMI

kanata was a silent lover, especially when it came to talking about how much he actually appreciated everything you did for him. but, that didnt mean that he had no shame about your relationship - he just preferred to keep his affection behind doors

so, when you decided to prepare cupcakes to bring along to cozmez's concert for fans, kanata didnt protest in the slightest, but also didnt comment on it at all. however, internally, his stomach was doing flips and his heart was pounding - how could you be so cute??

at the concert, you were stood at the exit queue, handing out the cute cupcakes you had prepared to the fans, a warm smile on your face. kanata watched how happy you looked, talking with each fan and genuinely being glad to be there, as he fell even more in love with you - your selfless nature warming his hardened heart

₊˚✧ NAYUTA YATONOKAMI

nayuta was more open with his affection for you; hugging, kissing, and always holding onto you, even in public. he always communicated how much he loved you, not caring if he came off as clingy or needy

when you baked the batches of cupcakes and brought them with you to one of cozmez's concert, nayuta swore that he felt his heart skip a beat. you just looked so goddamn adorable, holding containers full of delicious, decorated cupcakes and handing them to the grateful fans leaving the venue. it had been completely your idea, no input from anyone else - just the goodness of your heart

despite the vast amount of people, all nayuta could hear was your bubbly voice occasionally speaking to a fan or two - "thanks for coming today!", "hope to see you again!", "please, have a cupcake!". nayuta was smitten, but he didnt care - he just loved you so much

₊˚✧ KENTA MIKOSHIBA

kenta was slightly hesitant when you mentioned wanting to make cupcakes as a little thank you for his fans. it wasnt that he was embarrassed, not at all - he just didnt want you to be stressed about making the right amount, or about allergies or dietary concerns for the fans. in his opinion, they didnt deserve your kindness - only him!

but when you kept insisting on making them, with that adorable pout on your face, kenta just couldnt say no to you. he did his best to help you as you made batch by batch by batch of cupcakes, lifting things for you and grabbing ingredients from the convenience store

after the concert, kenta stood with you as you handed each fan a cupcake, trying to keep the scowl off of his face as he watched. they didnt even do anything, and they got a dessert made by you! he swore he wasnt jealous, but the way he clung to you afterwards clearly suggested otherwise...

₊˚✧ RYOGA TOSA

ryoga often struggled with speaking out, so whenever fans would approach him and thank him for the performance, he would freeze, often making the fan slightly uncomfortable and upset. he hated his inability to speak to others, but he just couldnt help it, as he often scared people away from how he looked

thats why you were practically his voice, speaking for him when he couldnt. the idea of baking cupcakes for fans was yours, but he followed along with it, as it meant that he wouldnt have to speak out. he was used to using violence instead of words, but this gesture meant that he wouldnt have to; a kind show of gratitude

at the end of the concert, he helped hand out the cupcakes, making it quite a comical sight. a big, scary, intimidating man handing out cutely decorated cupcakes to fans almost half his height. it made you laugh on the inside, but you knew that ryoga could be gentle when he wanted to, as he was always with you

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mera-k1 · 1 month

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aaaaaaa omg nsfw paralive reader inserts i cant thank you enough youre the best 😭😭💜💜 may i request nsfw headcanons for kei and shogo? if this is too vague then maybe something about the reader's first time? 🥹🥹 (separately... but if you have any ideas about them together with the reader... haha jk unless...) (NO PRESSURE AT ALL TJANK YOU SO MUCH FOR ALL YOUR WORK 😭😭😭😭💜💜💜💜💜💜

HEY!! so sorry i don't write for kei (or 1nm8 in general..) just can't seem to grasp the personalities all that well... but i'll gladly do shogo!! maybe in the future i'll write some kei~

Smut Hcs

Shogo Yamato x gn!reader

-smut, praise, oral, mostly vanilla stuff

-shogo is a switch to me. he doesn't mind being on top or bottom, whatever you prefer is alright with him but he does come off more subby than anything.

-very ready to listen to your every demand when it comes to sex. you want him to give you oral? sure, he's still new to this but he'll try! it's all very new to him but he's willing to try.

-marking is very iffy to him. he's an idol after all and needs to be in top physical shape so there's absolutely no marking on him allowed! (at least... in visible places...)

-shogo's a very vanilla guy over all. he doesn't like anything too over the top when it comes to kinky stuff in general. he's very soft and loving towards his partner!

-praise is very common. it seems to just fall from his mouth whenever you both have sex. he just can't seem to stop himself from telling you how pretty or attractive you look and how good you're making him feel.

-absolute mess whenever you suck him off. it's like he doesn't expect it to feel so good and is shocked when your warm mouth wraps around his cock... it's way too good for him not to want more.

-he gets embarrassed very easily by sex honestly. mentioning something you want to try with him has his face turning red as he thinks about it. it's kinda cute!

#♡ fics ♡#paradox live x reader #paradox live smut #paralive x reader #shogo smut #shogo yamato x reader

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seasonsbloom · 2 years

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I think it’s amazing how you fleshed out Hangman in Bad Habit, his backstory is so believable and how he’s just as fragile as the reader too. It was beautifully written 😭🥹

I’m not sure if you’re taking requests but it would be so interesting to see the reader being introduced to Jakes parents and standing up for Jake when his dad keeps making digs at him because you know she would have his back no matter what 💪🏻and Hangman just falls more in love with her ❤️

♡ pairing ; boyfriend ! hangman x female!reader

♡ wc ; 4k

♡ warnings ; angst, sappiness, toxic parents, some sexual innuendo and the tiniest, tiniest, tiniest breeding kink hint at the end (i can't believe i just typed that goodbye)

♡ note ; bad habit universe. anon, i need you to understand the way this ask made me go feral. i'm so sorry this got so long but i truly went INSANE i BLACKED OUT. goodbye.

Jake is jumpy before you even get in the car. He spends way too long picking out his pants and shirt, messing with the cufflinks, wrapping and loosening the tie around his neck a hundred times until you finally take it off him.

“It’s just your parents, Jake,” you say softly, letting the garment - dark green silk, your last Christmas present to him because it brings out his eyes - drop onto the hotel bed. “Don’t be nervous.”

It’s stupid advice, and you know it. You’re pretty sure the thought of his father has made Jake nervous his entire life.

But under the gentle pressure of your hands on his shoulders, some of the tension seems to drain out of him. He all but slumps against you with a sigh, dropping his head into the crook of your neck. Like all the fight just evaporates.

“It’s been so long,” he whispers against your skin, but what he means is: I’m scared.

You wrap your arms around him, wishing with a sudden, unfamiliar fierceness that you could shield him from anything bad in the world.

“It’ll be okay,” you whisper back, but what you mean is: I know. I’m with you.

On the drive, in a rental that smells too new, too clean, you’re the nervous one. Knee bouncing up and down, fingers drumming along to the pop songs on the radio but missing the rhythm entirely.

Jake puts a hand on your thigh, just above the knee, just below the hem of your floral sundress. Warm skin on warm skin, even with the aircon blasting. The last freckles of summer are still fading on the backs of his hands.

His touch, unfailingly, sends a shiver down your back.

“Nervous to meet the in-laws?” he asks, signals, and pulls off the highway. Outside the window, factories and strip malls make room for a residential area, for swingsets in back yards and sweet tea on front porches.

The words have heat rising to your face. You’re not even engaged, let alone married. Still, Jake’s been known to introduce you as the Missus, to carry a polaroid of you in his wallet, to talk to you about which tropical destinations you should spend your retirement benefit plans on when you’re both seventy. (You don’t tell him he’ll be seventy a good few years before you because it’ll just make him pout, and then you’ll kiss him, and then you won’t do any talking anymore.)

“Just… I’ve never met a boyfriend’s parents before,” you admit.

Jake hums, lifts his hand from your knee to tangle his fingers with yours instead, pulls them up to his mouth, and presses a kiss to your knuckles. His eyes never leave the road.

“You’ll do fine, sweetheart.” And then his smirk turns mischievous. “I love that dress on you. Will like it even more when I take it off you later, though.”

You laugh more for his benefit than because you actually find it amusing. There’s the familiar spark of desire, but it’s faint, muffled, distant.

It’s not hard to tell that Jake’s heart isn’t really in it. That’s okay. Yours isn’t either.

The house is perfect. Impeccably kept lawns, greener than the Texan heat should allow for, bushes trimmed into neat squares like somebody is exercising their personal vendetta on nature. Big windows and a car parked in a perfect parallel line to the curb. There’s something cold to it all.

On the walk up to the front door, while you’re careful not to step on any patches of that green, green grass, you take Jake’s hand, and you can’t tell if it’s for his benefit or your own. He squeezes back just once.

Jake’s mother is just like that house - so perfect it scares you.

She looks like one of those housewives in laundry detergent advertisements from the 50s. Manicured fingers, a string of pearls around her neck, lips painted a rosy shade of red.

Suddenly you’re sure your dress is too short, your hair isn’t styled carefully enough, you’re wearing too much make-up. You want to hide.

She greets you at the door, a smile on her face that seems almost a little nervous.

“Jake,” she says and kisses him on both cheeks but doesn’t hug him. They haven’t seen each other in two years.

You hang back, unsure, wishing you could go invisible, but Jake puts a hand on the small of your back, pushes you forward, smiles, and looks proud in a way you can’t explain.

“This is my girl,” he says, and there’s so much in it. Not girlfriend, because you’re more than that. Not wife, because you’re not yet. But his, always, always his, since that night he walked into you at the Hard Deck. His, even when you still swore up and down you hated him.

His mother shakes your hand, smiles not unkindly, and leads you into the house.

Jake and you sit on the couch as she hands you glasses filled with a sensible amount of iced water. An old, imposing grandfather clock ticks away the seconds.

“Your father’s in his study,” she says, eyes shifting rapidly like she can’t decide where to look. “I’ll check what’s keeping him.”

The whole house smells like the roast sizzling in the oven, like the steaming peach cobbler you saw through the open kitchen door when you walked in.

Jake is tense beside you, on guard. He sits on the edge of the sofa, palms spread on his knees like he’ll spring up at any moment and sprint out of the house, out of the state, back home to California, to the little apartment the two of you are renting. An apartment without lace curtains, without grandfather clocks, an apartment without grass or manicured bushes. But an apartment with warmth and sheets that smell like his shampoo, like your flowery body lotions, with a stain on the sofa cushion where you spilled red wine, with a burn mark on one of the kitchen counters from the one time Jake tried to cook dinner and set a pan down on the linoleum.

Not a perfect house, but a kind one. A home.

You loop your arm through his and press your cheek into his sleeve.

“You okay?” he asks softly. Even now, he’s still thinking about you, and you wonder how you could ever, for one moment, for one second, believe that he was selfish. Your chest feels tight, too narrow for all these emotions to fit inside.

You nod. “Are you?”

He’s about to answer when his mother comes back.

The man trailing behind her is unmistakeably his father. You can recognize the traces of Jake in his eyes, in the line of his mouth, but he lacks his charm, his boyish air. Lacks the flicker of kindness in the stiff smile. The hair at his temples has greyed with age, but his gaze is clear and sharp. It flicks from Jake to you, and his mouth twists downward.

Jake jumps up the moment his father enters the room, back ramrod straight. You follow slowly, choosing to hang back a little. Hiding at least partially behind Jake.

“Sir,” Jake says, voice different than you’ve ever heard, and you watch in amazement as they shake hands.

Involuntarily, you think of your own mother, smothering you in kisses after you got back from a school trip. You, pushing her away, glancing at your friends, saying, ew, stop, Mom.

Suddenly you think you might cry.

“This is her?” Jake’s father asks, waving a hand in your direction. He’s looking only at his son, you note, not at you.

“Yeah,” Jake answers and tells them your name.

You give him what you hope is a sweet smile, but his father ignores you.

“Is dinner ready?”

Jake’s mother nods. “Yes. We can go to the dining room.”

There are flags on the walls, plaques, and framed medals. Pictures of aircrafts and squadrons, men in uniforms that look dated now. There’s nothing new here, no traces of Jake apart from a framed photograph on the mantlepiece, him grinning into the camera at what you think might have been his senior prom.

It’s strange. You remember Jake telling you he sends all the mementos of his accomplishments to his parents. Maybe they keep them upstairs, you think, but somehow you doubt it.

When you get back home, you’ll ask him to hang them in your hallway instead. You didn’t even want him to put his Top Gun diploma on the sideboard near the entrance, but now you feel different about it.

All of them, you think. Everything. I’ll put out the award from the Spelling Bee he won in second grade.

In the dining room, Jake’s mother serves you roast and mashed potatoes and green beans in sensible portions on crisp white china.

“Your favorite,” she says, smiling at Jake.

You don’t say anything, but it’s on the tip of your tongue, burning there. Lasagna, you want to say, his favorite food is lasagna. One time he came home from a deployment and ate so much of it he got sick.

“Thanks, Mom,” Jake says, smiling a smile you’ve never seen. One that doesn’t reach his eyes.

Everybody makes small talk. His mother asks you a few questions about your teaching position, tentatively inquiring about your plans for the future.

“I’ll buy her a house,” Jake interjects, sounding serious and proud, and you stare at your plate to hide the smile.

He’s joking, probably. No way he means that.

His father doesn’t talk to you at all. He asks Jake increasingly aggressive questions about his last deployment, about the squadron he’s been assigned to, about when he’ll finally make the jump from Lieutenant Commander to Commander.

Jake hesitates, then he says, “Actually, Sir… I was thinking of teaching.”

The older man pauses, scotch glass halfway to his mouth, amber liquid sloshing against the rim.

“Teaching,” he repeats, a tension to the word that borders on danger.

Jake nods. “At Top Gun.”

His father sets his glass down on the tabletop with a sound softened by the silk cloth. You’ve gone quiet, frozen, as has Jake’s mother. Both of you staring like you’re watching a car crash - impossible to stop it, impossible to look away.

“Why,” Jake’s father says softly, “would you ever want to do that?”

Jake tips his chin up and answers, “Well… It’s close to home. And when we get married, when we get a house, I want to be there. Not on active duty, I want….”

And he’s mentioned it once before, but back then, you thought it was a joke. The idea of Jake torturing poor Top Gun hopefuls is a little unsettling, or at least it was, but you’re beginning to understand. You think he could be good at it, great maybe, teaching those people not to make the same mistakes he used to make.

When we get married, he’d said. Not if. When.

The thing Jake has loved most in his life - and you know this - was flying out there. Being in the midst of it all, in the thick of it, risking his life, always up in the air. The fact that he’s willing to give it all up for you…

Warmth blooms in your chest.

For the first time this night, Jake’s father turns his eyes right on you. They’re ice-cold. As cold as this house.

“Was this your idea?” he asks.

Automatically, you open your mouth to answer, but Jake is quicker.

“No,” he says. “It wasn’t her idea. It was mine. She had nothing to do with it.”

His father exhales a loud, shuddering breath, something that tears through the silence like a bull pawing at the ground.

“No,” he says finally.

“No?” Jake repeats, sounding hesitant.

“No.” Jake’s father places his cutlery delicately by his plate, smooths out the napkin in his lap. “No son of mine will give up a career to play house.”

“I…”

His father bulldozes over the interjection as if it hadn’t happened. “What, you can’t handle the pressure? Tough luck, boy. You gotta grit your teeth and get through it.”

There’s so much wrong with all of it. An emotion you can’t name rises up in your throat, makes your fingers clench into the fabric of the tablecloth.

“I don’t want to,” Jake says, trying to stand his ground. But something’s fading from him as you watch, some light dimming as his shoulders slump and his face falls.

You’ve never seen Jake like this before. All the cool melted out of him, all the bravado gone. Nothing but uncertainty left in its wake.

“You’ve always been weak,” his father says without looking at him. “Crying all the time when you were young, running to your mother. I knew it back then, and I see it now. Too weak for the Navy, too weak for this life, too weak….”

“Stop.” You can’t remember making the decision to speak, but suddenly your voice echoes through the room. Everybody’s looking at you. Your heart is in your throat.

And it’s so dumb. You can barely stand up for yourself. Last week, one of your student’s fathers yelled at you about a bad grade, and you just went home to cry into Jake’s chest for an hour. But this… it’s different. This ignites something in your chest, something violent and significant, something that demands to be felt.

You’d known their relationship was bad, but you hadn’t expected this. Nothing could have prepared you for it.

“You’re wrong,” you say, and wonder how your voice can sound so calm when on the inside you’re shaking, when the anger bubbles up into your throat like bile, when… “He’s not weak. Jake is the strongest person I know.”

Distantly, you’re aware of Jake’s head turning in your direction, but you keep your eyes on his father. Watch the twitch of his mouth, corners curling up into a smile dripping disdain.

“Oh, Jake,” he says, voice mocking as he turns to his son again. “Still need women to fight your battles for you?”

Jake’s mother says nothing, face turned down towards her plate, hands folded primly in her lap. The string of pearls around her neck shifts with every inhale, and for a moment, you ask yourself who’s worse: the one who does the hurting or the one who sits by and does nothing.

“I love him,” you say, and it’s not the first time you’ve said it, but it is the first time you say it in front of somebody else, somewhere outside the privacy of your bedroom, where you can convince yourself nobody exists in the world but him and you. It feels, somehow, significant. “He’s twice the man you’ve ever been.”

The eyes turn on you, so cold it sends a shiver down your back. And you don’t understand how you could have thought, even for a moment, that they looked alike. It’s like comparing a pencil sketch to an oil painting - night and day.

True anger courses through the words, through the voice, as he says, “You think I’m going to sit here and listen to some rude little schoolteacher my son picked up on the roadside try and tell me to….”

Jake’s palm hits the tabletop so forcefully the china jumps an inch into the air, the glasses rattle, and white wine spills into the casserole dish with the green beans.

“Don’t,” Jake hisses through clenched teeth, “ever talk to her like that again.”

Silence spreads.

His father chuckles. “What, you think that’s gonna impress me, boy? I don’t…”

“I don’t care,” Jake says. You can hear it in his voice, in the trembling of his breath - the anxiety, but the anger too. Your eyes burn. “For the first time in my life, I don’t care what impresses you. I just… I’m so tired of it. This is who I am. Either accept it or don’t.”

“Jake…” his mother whispers, but he won’t look at her. She throws a furtive glance at her husband, then at you. You can see the fear there, and you almost feel bad for her.

His father picks his cutlery back up and cuts into his roast.

“Sit back down, boy,” he says, the picture of perfect calm if it weren’t for the quiver in his hands. “Don’t cause a scene.”

You see the exact moment it happens. When the resignation finally sinks in for Jake. The acceptance of this thing he’s denied all his life.

His eyes flicker to you, and there’s something helpless in them. You think you hear the crack as your heart breaks.

And Jake is confident. Knows what he wants. Is so much clearer about it all than you with all your overthinking and spiraling and second and third and fourth guessing. Is so good at acting like he has all the answers that sometimes it makes you forget how good he is at pretending too. How sometimes, he needs you to take over.

So you get up, slot your fingers into the spaces between his, and say, looking only at his mother, “Thank you for dinner. I think it’s time we leave.”

Nobody says anything. Jake’s parents stay where they are, in their perfect, cold house, with their perfect, flavorless food and their lace curtains and grandfather clocks and no pictures of their brilliant, beautiful, warm son.

But you leave. You leave, and you take him with you.

The thought of Jake as a child, alone in this house, with that man in front of his door, almost chokes you.

You’re silent as you get into the car, silent as he pulls away from the curb, silent as the house fades smaller and smaller in the rearview mirror. As it disappears from view completely.

You know you’ll never come here again. Something about it all is decidedly and vitally final.

Over the middle console, you watch Jake. It’s dark outside now, but the electronics of the dashboard illuminate him, the headlights of oncoming cars paint ghostly shadows across his features. You can’t read his expression, feel almost incapacitated by your own panic.

You don’t know what to say.

It’s impossible to tell how long you drive, but finally, Jake signals and pulls into an empty Walmart parking lot. Parks the car. Turns off the engine. And then he makes a sound you’ve never heard before.

With a start, with a jolt that zaps through you like a current, you realize he’s crying.

You’ve never seen him cry. Not when a bird strike took down his wingman last year. Not when you made him watch first Philadelphia and then Titanic in the most devastating double feature of all time.

It stumps you. Throws you for a loop. Makes tears well up in your own eyes.

“Oh, Jake,” you say, leaning across the middle console to wrap your arms around him, to press your face into his neck and hold him. Try and keep you both from falling apart.

And it’s so much pain. So much pain he’s carried with him every day, so much of it that you can feel it reverberate along your own bones as if it’s yours. And maybe that’s true. Maybe part of loving someone is feeling their pain as your own. Carrying it not for them but with them. Sharing it.

After what you just saw, you think you understand. Perhaps for the first time. All that cockiness and all that arrogance and all those things you hated about him at first. How they’re all just pieces of armor, something he’s built over the years to protect himself from that father and those expectations he could never meet and that cold, cold, cold.

You hold him until he calms, until the shaking of his sobs subsides, until he draws back and pushes himself into an upright position, says, “I’m sorry for crying.” He pushes a laugh out, but you don’t buy it. Not for a second. “That’s humiliating, huh? Bet you didn’t know you were dating such a pussy….”

“Don’t.” Your voice is firm, and it stops him in his tracks. “Don’t do that, Jake. That’s just him talking. There’s nothing wrong with crying. There’s nothing wrong with anything you did.”

His fingers flex around the steering wheel. He exhales loudly through his nose, and when he speaks again, his voice has gone so quiet you need to lean forward to hear him, “I guess some part of me just always thought… always thought that maybe, someday, he’d love me.”

And that’s it. It shatters you right there. Breaks you apart in a way you can’t explain.

You don’t know what to say. Maybe there is nothing to say. No words to make this better, to make him think the opposite. Not after what you’ve just seen.

“I guess…” His throat moves as he swallows. It’s so dark in this parking lot you can barely see more than the outline of him, shadowed by the darkness, but it’s enough. You know him so well, you could draw his face blind. “I guess that’s it, then. I guess I no longer have a family.”

It’s instantaneous. No, you think. I won’t let him believe that. Not for a second.

“Do you think I don’t have a family?“ you ask him.

Jake’s brows furrow, obviously confused by your question. “What?”

“Because my mom is gone, and my dad doesn’t care, and I don’t have any siblings or aunts or uncles. Do you think I don’t have a family?”

“No,” he says immediately, frowning. “You’ve got me. And you’ve got Penny and Phoenix and….”

“Then why would you ever think that about yourself?”

That shuts him up. He just sits there for a while.

“Jake,” you say, voice more gentle than it’s ever been. “It doesn’t change a thing. Not about the way I feel about you or the man that you are.”

He’s biting his lips, glancing at you from the corner of his eye and then away just as quickly.

“You don’t…” He clears his throat. “You don’t believe what he’s saying? That I’m… weak, or…”

You’re shaking your head before he’s halfway through the question.

“I meant what I said back there,” you reassure, reaching for his hands again. “Jake, you’re the best person I know. You can be an asshole, and a dumbass, and arrogant, and….”

“Aren’t you supposed to be making me feel better?” he interrupts, but there’s amusement in his voice, and relief floods your chest in answer.

You say, “What I mean is… I think you’re remarkable.”

“Remarkable?” he repeats, and you can hear the frown in his voice.

“Remarkable. Because even with someone like him raising you, putting you down all the time, telling you all that bullshit… you still turned out so good. You still turned into the best man I’ve ever known.” You take a deep, deep breath. “The only man I’ve ever really loved.”

And when he turns to look at you, you can see the tears sparkling in his eyes.

You’re climbing over the middle console before you know it, settling into his lap with your arms around his neck and your knees pressing into the seat bis hips. Jake slots clumsy kisses over your eyebrow, your cheekbone, your nose, until he finds your mouth.

He tastes like salt and gravy and home.

“It shouldn’t be like that,” you tell him, drawing back to card your fingers through his hair. “With my mom, it was never like that. She was so warm and kind, and she was so happy to see me, always. Even if I showed up unannounced and drunk at three am. And she just wanted me to be happy, no matter in what capacity. That’s how it should be, Jake, that’s what you deserved. Someone who loves you unconditionally.”

“I do have that,” he whispers, voice husky. “I have you.”

And it’s like this: being with Jake is like drifting on a blow-up mattress through a pool. Being with Jake is like reaching the top of a mountain after hours of hiking. Being with Jake is like the first taste of ice cream on the hottest day of the year. Being with Jake is like the first winter snow, early in the morning when everything is still untouched and quiet. Being with Jake is like listening to the rain from beneath your blankets, warm and safe and cozy.

Being with Jake is everything you’ve ever wanted.

“Yes,” you agree, head spinning, chest tight, “you do. You’ll always have me, Jake. We’re our own family already. And when we have kids, I know you’ll be the most perfect father, and you’ll never, ever treat them the way your dad treated you. You’ll be so kind and so loving and….”

“When we have kids,” he interrupts you.

In his lap, your face inches from his, you freeze.

Suddenly you can’t look at him. Your cheeks feel like they’re burning. “I… I’m sorry, we never talked about this, I just….”

You move to climb off him, but he pulls you closer instead, holds you to him with hands grasping the backs of your thighs.

“Is that what you want?” he asks softly. “You want to have my kids?”

The way he phrases the question almost makes you scoff. But then you think about it for a second, this thing you haven’t even been brave enough to voice in the privacy of your own mind. This thing that perhaps, in your heart of hearts, you’ve always dreamed of.

“Yeah,” you breathe. “I do. I do, Jake.”

And he groans, pushes his face against your cheek, and you can’t see him, but you can feel the tears.

“I’ll give it to you,” Jake whispers. “I'll give you anything you want. A ring and a house with a blue door and a baby. I’ll give you a baby, sweetheart. My girl. My gorgeous, brave, brave girl.”

In the silence of the night, in the warmth of that car, it sounds like a promise.

#hangman fic #hangman x reader #jake seresin fic #jake seresin x reader #top gun maverick #hangman #mine #drabble #f: bh #hangman drabble #f:bhdrabbles

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hebimoonlightwrites · 11 months

Note

hi hebi!! first time sending an ask! thank you for writing so much for paralive i really enjoy your works! 💕💕 if it's not too much trouble could i please ask for hokusai dating headcanons? 🥺🙏

Writer's corner: Oh, it's your first time? Then welcome, dear! Thank you for requesting and, of course! I hope you'll enjoy reading! I'll do it GN! if it's okay. Let me know if you want me to change or fix anything or if you want specific pronouns, okee?~ Enjoy~♥

mc's pronouns: THEY/THEM (GN!reader)

Warnings: sfw, fluff

⭐𝐇𝐨𝐤𝐮𝐬𝐚𝐢 𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬⭐

⭐Hokusai seems pretty quiet and calm, and it's said that he's also quite introverted.

⭐He learned to love animals and to appreciate more their company because of his past and because of the fact that people were used to bully him because of his father's crimes

⭐So that' why he spends time petting animals, especially cats: because in his opinion cats will be the only ones which will never judge him and will keep him company no matter what

⭐But Hokusai is a kind-hearted and caring young man, actually!

⭐He always cares about his family- i.e. AKYR members- and he's very protective of the ones he loves

⭐So dating him will be a quiet, romantic and calm experience: if you are as calm as him, then you both will enjoy some calm and peaceful time, maybe petting cats, while he would whisper some kind compliments about you:

⭐"I.. I like your eyes.. they're.. sweet.. You're very cute..."

⭐Otherwise, if you are more extroverted and energetic, I feel like Hokusai would appreciate listening to all your words. Even if you're talking about random stuff, I'm sure Hokusai would keep listening to you, while petting Luna, his white cat.

⭐Since he has been bullied and self-isolated, I think he doesn't really know what to do with a partner, so I guess he would receive advices and some help by his family!

⭐Reo, Satsuki, Iori and Zen would help him getting ideas for dates or simply to surprise you with flowers or home-made chocolate

⭐Plus, I'm 100% sure he would bring you to the zoo, especially if you are an animals-lover just like him

⭐You both would explore the zoo together, walking and holding hands. I feel like he would also enjoy petting some animals and even feeding them, if possible and allowed, of course!

⭐I don't know why, but Hokusai gives me the vibes of that kind of boyfriend who would fill your room with plushies!.. Like.. Each special events (your birthday, Christmas, Valentine's, etc..) would be a good excuse to give you a plush as a gift. It would probably be an animal-shaped plush, though.

⭐About his love language, it'd mostly be the physical one, in my opinion. Hokusai would sweetly hold your hand, hug you and even snuggle cozily on you especially during his or your "no"-days. Your warmth would make him relax and feel happier.

⭐"I.. I love you..", he'd whisper to your ear.

#paradox live #paralive #paradox live headcanons #paralive headcanons #paradox live akan yatsura #paralive akan yatsura #paradox live akyr #paralive akyr #akan yatsura #akyr #paradox live hokusai #paralive hokusai #hokusai masaki #paradox live x reader #paralive x reader #hokusai x reader #hokusai masaki x reader #akyr x reader

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selkiewife · 5 months

Note

do you think we’ll get any dany/theon interactions in WoW or ADoS?

Hello Anon!

I really hope so! I think Daenerys and Theon interactions would be extremely interesting. They have such interesting parallels to each other and both of their narratives speak to the deep isolation of being displaced and yearning for their lost homes.

If you are interested here are some posts that I think do a wonderful job of describing their parallels and also expressing why some fans crave interaction between the two:

paralles all around exploring the missed opportunity of theon & dany meeting in the show in world (and fandom) anti theon & anti dany propaganda compared

I also have recently enjoyed thinking about the burning horse motif that is in both of their narratives- leading them to a rebirth- Drogo's burning horse in Dany's pyre where she is reborn as the unburnt- and Smiler burning with Winterfell as Theon is reborn as Reek :(((

I don't know what would have to happen in order for them to meet. But there is the Greyjoy- Dany connection that is being set up already through Euron and Victarion. And Dany will eventually come north to fight the Others and could meet Theon then if he is still in the north?

There is also Dany's House of the Undying vision about the corpse at the prow of the ship. Many people interpret this vision with having to do with Euron, Victarion, or Aeron. But when I first read it, I instantly thought of Theon. Of course, that could just be because of my own Theon goggles. But look at the quote:

A corpse stood at the prow of a ship, eyes bright in his dead face, grey lips smiling sadly.

Theon has been starved and abused beyond recognition and could be mistaken as a corpse. The bright eyes show that he is not actually a corpse- but still alive. And he has grey lips instead of Euron's blue- and Theon describes his own skin as grey in adwd:

... his hair was white and thin, and his flesh had an old man's greyish undertone. A Stark at last, he thought.

Also the fact that the lips are SMILING sadly- which is more of a Theon thing in comparison to Euron, Victarion, and Aeron.

However, I do like the interpretation that it is Aeron as well. Aeron has been literally tied to the prow of Euron's ship. And the bright eyes could mean the visions he is seeing after drinking the shade of the evening.

But I really love the idea of it being Theon (even thought it's more likely Aeron) because it strikes me as more hopeful. Maybe he survives and is control of his own life- indicated by being at the prow of the ship. And the fact that he would be in one of Dany's visions indicates that she might eventually have contact with him, which I would also enjoy.

Thanks for the question!

#theon greyjoy #daenerys targaryen #theon & dany #theon & dany parallels #asoiaf #twow #ados #asks #anonymous

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