Tumgik
#that was insane to me and will never be replicated
wolfiery · 3 months
Text
reblog to like ratio is sooooo sad on here these days. SIGH.
14 notes · View notes
fitzrove · 9 months
Text
Overwhelmed by nostalgia actually
17 notes · View notes
pasta-pardner · 1 year
Note
top 5 Red Dead characters
Arthur Morgan (the obvious and most indisputably Correct answer)
John Marston (baby girl)
Dutch Van der Linde (hes super well written in canon which is why i rarely ever engage in fan content about him)
Charles Smith (genuinely don't think rdr2's themes could remain intact w/o him)
Javier Escuella (blorbo who i have a pepe-silvia-level wall of headcanons about)
39 notes · View notes
arolesbianism · 5 months
Text
You know, I think the reason I've never been big on the idea of Abigail not actually being Abigail is because it's just so much more fun and fucked up if it Is Abigail and it's partly because of the whole watching your twin die over and over, but it's also because holy shit does Wendy say some shit that sucks so bad to say when Abby is literally Right Next To Him. Like imagine your fucking twin constantly talking about you like you're not there, all while also being constantly held up as the only thing keeping him going, and then he pulls out the "I have nothing worth protecting" and it's just all like godddd this kid's shitty coping mechanism of being an edgelord is causing him to unintentionally be such a dick sometimes and that is so fucking delightful to me. Abby has spent god knows how long watching her twin die and treat her like a past tense and like a concept and most of the cast don't even refer to her by name and it's unclear if she can even talk to them and that's all on top of literally being a ghost who is bound to death seemingly irreversibly and all of that while shes like 12. No wonder she kills moles and rabbits for doing nothing lol
5 notes · View notes
meggydolaon · 1 year
Text
It's funny everytime I see people saying "you can't use queer as an umbrella term bc I don't reclaim that word therefore you're excluding ME" because aphobes have seared into my brain that "it's L G B T, no more no less!" and by funny I mean I want to bash my head into a wall
2 notes · View notes
bakasurvivor · 11 months
Text
youtube
THEY FUCKINF........... REDID THE ORIGINAL BORDERLESS ZOLA ZOLA SONG WITH THE NEW VOICEBANKS IM ACTUALLY TEARING UP FROM NOSTALGIA...
0 notes
theminecraftbee · 3 months
Text
being in true sexyman nostalgia mode today (on account of. IT'S BEEN ONE YEAR BABY.) i think one of the most fascinating things about it is that we will never manage to do that again. like, not in a "we couldn't organize it better" way; there were better ways to do the spreadsheet, we would just turn off comments on posts and anon asks from day one so that we wouldn't then get people accusing us of censorship while we tried and failed to control the tide of things that ended up in the comments and inbox, we'd definitely have a WAY higher non-hermit contingent, both thanks to qsmp and thanks to the sexyman blog and medusa now having MUCH wider reach to other corners of the fandom and the original spread not all rooting at me, etc.
but the reason we couldn't do it again is that i don't know if we could ever replicate the exact circumstances that lead to it blowing up quite to the extent it blew up.
it was while tumblr polls and doing tumblr poll brackets on tumblr itself was still new-ish, and people were still excited about them. the idea of a mcytblr bracket was basically brand new; i won't claim we did it FIRST (because i have no idea if we did and doubt we did), but certainly we did it big first. so there's that; we can never again invent in real time "shit people are sending us threats about fraud lets legalize fraud because its funny, we can't stop it, and that neutralizes that drama as a thing anyone will take seriously", and then in turn accidentally invent a fandom culture of. um. wide-spread voter fraud.
(i don't know if we should apologize for, uh, causing the specific way mcytblr voter frauds. i still think it was better than the alternative at least, especially after seeing how so many other polls crashed and burned after us. there were MANY things we could have done better but i have seen SO MANY ways we could have done things worse since then so i think we came out looking pretty okay.)
but also: february 2023 was a very different time in mcytblr. we were in a hermitcraft dead period, where most of the hermits were either on vacation or playing tcg (which was fun, but didn't end up generating that much fandom activity by that time in february). the former dsmp crew was very much doing Nothing (and in that awkward space when the entire fandom knew dsmp 2 was never happening, but also people were still claiming it would happen, so it was just... busy waiting). qsmp didn't exist yet. there was no ongoing life series and wouldn't be for some time. i think even the dominioners and lifestealers were in a fairly dead zone. there was very little new for people to be excited about, mcyt content-wise.
enter: our poll. our poll which cleo then thinks its funny to call out on twitter. our poll, which was not only new mcyt content for the fandom to interact with (thanks to the fact we KEPT GETTING CC INTERACTIONS???), but participatory.
for about two weeks, we were the mcyt event de jour.
and like. the thing is. now we're in february 2024. mcyt is BOOMING. a new hermitcraft season JUST STARTED. we came off of vault hunters before that. meanwhile, qsmp just restarted and is, if i'm understanding correctly, booming. they just added a new guy! the two current juggernauts of the fandom are in FULL SWING. i honestly think we'd be somewhat overtaken by the fact things are actually happening in fandom. there's stuff to do that ISN'T go insane about a poll.
and it's not new, and we've seen it all before now, and frankly, it's hard to cause a mass hysteria event TWICE. lightning in a bottle, as they say.
i think part of the reason we all just REMEMBER mcytblr sexyman so much is that we could never, ever recreate it, so it remains crystalized in a single moment in time, impossible to replicate, forever memorable.
anyway: HAPPY ONE YEAR TO THE JOE HILLS SWEEP BABY,
1K notes · View notes
itgirl-111 · 6 months
Text
OFFENSIVELY ATTRACTIVE VAUNT
Tumblr media
Why do I have to be so offensively attractive? Everything about me from top to toe is perfection. You've never seen a face as pretty and flawless as mine. No cause why do I have to look this hot? I'm fr the hottest girl on the planet. Everything about me from top to toe is pure perfection, my individual features are perfect and flawless but when they come together they are so harmonious? Like everything just fits my face so fucking perfectly like it's meant to be there. Every inch of my face and body is gorgeous and flawless. I am a walking masterpiece, I'm a work of art. Everyone is obsessed with me the first time they see me, I am so drop dead gorgeous that people literally double take and gasp once they lay their eyes on me. I mean, I'm always the center of attention because why wouldn't I be? I high key give off real main character vibes, it's like I straight up walked out of an anime. It's near impossible for someone to look this humanely beautiful but I do because I'm just too damn stunning. I literally take everyone's breath away. I am so offensively attractive, people find it difficult to not look at me, I swear all eyes turn only to me because I'm literally the most beautiful ever. It's only once in a blue moon that you'd get a chance to see a person as attractive as I am, Im once in a lifetime afterall. I get complimented every single day, I hear everyone call me beautiful more than my own name. I am too painfully attractive, it's indescribable. I'm the typa girl who you see once and never forget. I literally got everyone feeling some type of way they never felt before. I am literally so utterly mesmerizing. I got everyone simping for me fr. I'd be literally breathing and everyone would be down bad for me, Literally down bad. I got universal sex appeal, meaning everyone regardless of sexuality is down bad for me . I am so sexy people genuinely cannot get over it and everyday I just get 100x trillion times hotter. I am just sooo damn fine like I've got too pretty of a face and even more powerful vibe. I believe in my supremacy fr. Sometimes it's just so hard to grasp the fact that a person as attractive as I, is living on the same planet as everyone else, everyone is damn lucky to be born in the same generation as I am. It's ridiculous how many simps I have, like damn I really got everyone down bad for me huh. I am the pinnacle of God tier beauty and charisma.
There's something about my vibe which is just so uniquely mine, like my vibe and energy is so one of a kind, everyone can feel my vibe even before I walk into the room. I give off an expensive, powerful, hot girl vibe who straight up walked out of an anime I swear lol. My energy is way too magnetic and irresistible, it speaks volumes. My presence is literally out of this world. The way I carry myself, the way I talk, the way I do things, the way I think, the way I look, my energy, my mannerisms, my habits, all of it is way too unique to be replicated. Everyone wanna study me like their favourite subject. It's impossible to mistake me for another one, I stand out and outshine literally everyone with my beauty, charisma, and interesting personality. The fact that it comes to me so naturally and effortlessly? Even better. I've got such amazing wit and humour, I'm so personable that people genuinely love to be around me even though I may seem intimidating at first. I always know how to spark interesting and amazing conversations, I know when to speak and be quiet, I got that perfect balance between loud and quiet confidence. My intelligence and the way I keep learning new things so easily? Even hotter!. I am an ICON. My energy is actually so magnetic, I have that little something, that is just so insanely attractive and captivating that it cannot be described in words, only felt. I truly believe in my own supremacy.
2K notes · View notes
andyoullhearitagain · 2 months
Text
Top Ten Least Bad Outfits in TNG
I'm gonna be honest and say that the non-uniform outfits in TNG are not my favorite costume design in the world, but there are some looks that stick with me:
10. That Girl Who Kissed Data That One Time's Outfit:
Tumblr media Tumblr media
I can never decide if I like this look or I think it's ugly, but I love the pants and tall boots combo. Her blouse is bad and the bouclé jacket is both too heavy and too fussy for this outfit, but I love the belt and suspenders combo, and the chevron embossing on the suspenders. This costume and all the others except #9 is a Robert Blackman design.
9. This Jumpsuit On That Girl From "The Dauphin":
Tumblr media
This is the only William Ware Theiss design on this list. I love his TOS stuff but most of his TNG designs leave me cold 🤷‍♀️. But I love this is extremely 80s jumpsuit. Love the pretty drape, love the ruching on the sleeves, love the harem pants silhouette. Only note is that the whole bodice should be a structured corset bodice instead of the kind of odd structured panel it has now.
8. Picard's Shorty Pyjama Set:
Tumblr media
TNG is absolutely full of the strangest pyjama choices you can imagine and Picard is no exception but I love this bold look. Would kill for this pyjama set. He also takes a work zoom wearing this one time which is insane.
7. Data's 1890's Looks But Specifically This One With The Shirtsleeves And The Blue Shirt:
Tumblr media
The best part of "Time's Arrow" is that Data isn't a fish out of water in the 1890s, he's absolutely killing it, and I love that the only real Casual Data look we get is this one. I prefer the blue shirt to the pink because Data should really wear more blue, it's a nice contrast with yellow. Please also note his emerald watch fob, which was 0% necessary to blend in, he's just having fun with it.
6. 12 Year Old Keiko's Linen Overalls:
Tumblr media
The paperbag waist! The bow! The little bows at the shirt cuffs! I can understand why she replicated a miniature copy of this outfit.
5. Beverly and Guinan's Dixon Hill Holodeck Costumes:
Tumblr media Tumblr media
I'm counting these as one because they're essentially the same design in different color pallets but what color paletts! Bev is pulling off the very difficult pink+red+red hair and the mint green on Guinan is 🤌. I particularly love how Guinan's hat is so 1940s yet also echos the silhouette of her usual costume.
4. Deanna's Teal Dress:
Tumblr media
Like all of you I prefer Deanna in the uniform, but this dress slays, ok? The space age asymmetrical neckline. The drop waist. The structured bodice. The slit almost all the way to the hip. And of course the matching tights and shoes CANNOT BE BEATEN. Also one time I saw a dude on a Star Trek forum call this a "ballgown" which baffles me to this day, this is clearly a slightly fancy day dress.
3. Picard's 1890s Look:
Tumblr media Tumblr media
You'd think Picard would go full posh in the 1890s but instead he gives us this working-class Shakespearean director look and he 👏 looks 👏 incredible 👏. Way to mix textures, Jean-Luc.
2. Lore's Turtleneck and Giant Vest:
Tumblr media
You and I know that Lore stole these clothes from the Pakleds because we pay a lot of attention to Star Trek costumes, but to a normal viewer Lore shows up and this is just his outfit!! It's giving, like, space-age goblincore and it's incredible. I want wear this oufit every day. I want to make a little doll Lore wearing this outfit to express my love for it. It's only not #1 because the pants are too orange and a strange weave.
Deanna's Ancient West Holodeck Outfit:
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Deanna!!! The pants! The hat! The calico! She looks 10/10 hot in this outfit. For sure the superior version of this is before she gives her neckerchief to Worf (it really benefits from that cool highlight) but either way this is the best anyone's ever looked on that holodeck.
510 notes · View notes
dearbraus · 6 months
Text
i truly believe eren and armin were soulmates. their souls were bound together and knotted. they were so deeply intertwined that armin didn't know where eren began and he ended. it was messy but perfectly human. they'll love others romantically but it won't hold a candle to the devotion they have for one another. and that's okay. it's not meant to replicate romantic love, it's something else entirely, something that neither can describe nor have they ever thought to. they've never imagined a world without the other in it. they've spent their whole lives together, they'd spend their entire futures together. they were boys, and then they were men. and they loved each other like no other. armin was the last person to speak to eren. the last thing eren ever said was armin's name. armin will spend the rest of his life living for eren and waiting to be reunited. (but its different, it is so different to mikasa who can't bring herself to move on. eventually she begins to live for herself but there is this thin line that differentiates the devotion eren had for the two of them and it makes me insane) (this is not eremika or mikasa bashing, what they have is beautiful too but its different. intense, all consuming, and the makings of a bright first love that could never be).
340 notes · View notes
selarina · 6 months
Text
And I'm Asking You to Hold Me Just Like the Morning Paper
-> older brother’s best friend!Gojo Satoru
Tumblr media
Gojo Satoru grew up lonely. He’s not only the freak whose mere existence altered the balance of the world, but he’s also the only one of his kind. There’s no more after or before him. There may be one, born hundreds of years from now, who will understand him, but for now, for today, he stands all alone.
But then Getou comes along, and he starts to feel like he can stand beside someone. Getou will never understand what it means to be him, but he understands him in most ways no one else does, and it thaws his heart just a little. But then he meets you, and you—you’re just the worst parts of Getou.
You understand Getou like no one does, despite your differences in looks and techniques. You have the same blood flowing through your veins, so you get him in so many ways he could never.
That’s when he starts craving for what you and Getou have, while also hating you all the same. Your mere presence has managed to single-handedly make him feel even more alone. Of course, he hates you.
He wouldn’t ever say it out loud; you're Getou’s sister, and Getou loves you more than the world itself, so he would never. But it shows—sometimes he just so forgets to pull out a seat for you.
Some days, he forgets to invite you out with the group.
Some years, he even forgets your birthday. But Getou never believes him, even if you do. Gojo remembers the day you were born so vividly; he was there alongside Getou, after all. He saw your father's hands tremble as he held you. He later saw Getou's hands do the same. It was the strangest thing.
He also got to hold you when you were born, and it was the first newborn he had held, the most insane experience he had at the age of three. So, of course, he remembers.
So one day, you grow tired of it because you grew up idolizing this man. He’s an idiot, and he’s always embarrassing himself in ways you didn’t think were possible, but he’s just so—well, he’s Gojo Satoru, right? There’s something about him.
There are so many things about him—he’s pretty good-looking for starters. Sometimes when he stands under the sun, you think he’s no short of an angel. And he has these eyes; you see them so rarely now, but when you were a child, you thought you could see the ocean in his eyes.
One time you told Getou, and he told Gojo, who wouldn’t—no, doesn’t shut up about it.
And it’s not just his looks really—one time, you saw him save not only you but 53 other people from a building that was making its way to crush you all. You could’ve moved and saved yourself, but you didn’t see the point, not when that meant living with the fact that you couldn’t save those 53 people, but things like that came easy to a man of his capabilities.
You could go on and on about how you came to form a crush on Gojo Satoru, but the fact of the matter is—your pride matters more, and you decided that after 16 years of pining after him, the least you could start doing is pick up your pride and find other options.
Your heart may not find them instantly, still slightly transfixed on the man who bleeds gold, but eventually, you think you’ll move on.
So when the popular guy from your class asks you out—you think, “Why the hell not?”
And so, you find yourself on a date with a man who’s really into furniture and protein shakes apparently. It’s all you’ve gotten out of the conversation you’ve had with him. And frankly, he doesn’t compare.
But you tell yourself over and over again, as you begin to zone out—that this is to be expected. No one compares to Gojo Satoru, a man who’s entirely too unique to supersede or replicate, so it’s only natural. It’ll take time.
So you try, the fake laughter and soft brush of your fingers. You focus on the little things and you try to beat the sleep dawning on you.
That’s when Gojo sees you. You’re wearing a blue dress that hangs just above your bruised knees. Your hair is down but slightly styled and pulled up halfway by a clip, and beside you, there’s a guy.
The guy you’re with, his hand slips around your back, ushering you into the elevator, and Gojo thinks he’s never felt something so sinister boil in his gut before. He clenches down hard on his jaw. He doesn’t understand.
Are you with this guy? No, there’s no way. Is this a random guy bothering you? If he was—he’d be on the floor, pleading for his life. So no—it can’t be.
He doesn’t think at all, really, but he rushes towards the elevator before it closes. Only when it starts to close after he gets in does he notice his date—and then he snaps out of his daze to hold the door open.
She looks surprised but joins him by his side, and now you and your date stare at him in surprise.
“Are you Gojo Satoru?” your date speaks up.
“Yeah,” he grins as he pulls his glasses down. “That’s me.”
“Can I have a picture with you? My mother practically worships you,” he continues.
And Gojo turns his attention to you, and your eyes have grown stone cold, and he immediately turns his attention back to the guy, not wanting to be subject to you staring daggers at him.
“Of course, I always have time for fans,” he maintains his grin.
“Who even are you?” he hears his date murmur, and frankly, there’s more to this story. His date wasn’t entirely a fan of his at the moment. He was late to the date, and he got caramel chocolates which she mentioned she hates. He disappeared on a bathroom break but really, he was halfway across town fighting off a curse that could’ve been taken care of by an amateur, and on his way back, he started wondering if he was really needed there or if he just wanted to leave the date.
So, yeah, when the elevator dings and the doors open up to the ground floor, he’s not entirely surprised that she’s saying goodbye, but he is surprised by this.
“Not to sound like a bitch—” she starts. “—but you need to learn how to be a better date. I understand that boys your age are slow in the brain, but it doesn’t take a genius to send a text if you’re running late.”
Just when he thinks she’s done, she’s talking again, as though she only stopped to take a breath in— “And I know that wasn’t a bathroom break, who even is gone for that long and comes back smelling like he bathed in perfume when he didn’t a moment ago. And for God’s sake, don’t go out on a date if you’re in love with your best friend's sister,” she says.
“God’s sake, what is wrong with you?” is the last thing he hears from her as she makes her way out.
“So,” your date begins. “About that photo?”
“Chimin,” you bat his shoulder. “Not now.”
“But he—”
“It’s fine, give me your phone,” Gojo says, and he’s less chipper now, although he does a good job of maintaining the facade.
He poses with a peace sign, and he pats your date on the back.
“Uh, thank you, sir,” your date says before he turns to you, his arm reaching your waist. “Shall we go? I was thinking there’s a park—”
“It’s cold out,” Gojo’s voice comes out abruptly, leaving your date’s mouth agape.
“I mean, I should probably take you home,” he says, situating himself right next to you now. “You can expect a text about that second date. What was it you said? Oh yeah, a park date. Heh,” he scoffs. “Sure.”
“So sorry,” you start. “I’ll text you. It is pretty cold, and I’d rather get home now. Thank you for the date; you were lovely,” you say with a smile before you lean in for a hug as he kissed you on the cheek.
“It’s alright. Text me when you’re home safe,” he says mirroring your smile, only his feels a little more real than yours. “I’ll wait for the text.”
So as you make your walk back home with Gojo, you pull his coat tighter around yourself. Gojo doesn't say anything as he walks beside you, and for a moment, the silence between you two is almost soothing.
You steal a glance at him, and his lips remain unreadable, his expression hidden behind those ever-present sunglasses.
"So," he finally breaks the silence, his tone light but something else lingers beneath the surface. "You're dating now, huh?"
You merely nod, trying to keep your composure. "Yeah, kinda."
Gojo smirks, and you can feel his gaze on you, "Interesting choice. He did seem more into me than he was into you if I'm being honest."
"Haha, it's a pity. I pegged him for a man with good taste, what with the Toyota Crown he promised to take me on a ride on and whatnot."
"Do we really want to go there?" he turns to you, bending down, as he smiles all in your face. "You don't want to go there."
Your heart quickens just a bit, caught between a fine line of annoyance and amusement. You tilt your head, looking back at him through narrowed eyes. "And where exactly is 'there,' Satoru?"
He chuckles. It's a low, throaty sound. " 'There' is a dangerous place, sweetheart. A place where your date, no matter how charming, can't compete with me, Gojo Satoru."
You roll your eyes at his arrogance. "Ever the egotistical maniac. You're insufferable, you know that?"
"I am?" he replies, with playful obliviousness.
As soon you approach your home, you stop in front of the door, turning as you awkwardly wave at him. "Well, um, bye."
"Bye," he replied back. He doesn't motion for you to return his jacket back, but honestly, you're disappointed in yourself. You should've asked him about what his date meant. You should've said something.
"Actually—" you start. "Do you want some tea? It's cold."
He doesn't get cold easily, he wants to say, but he'd play weaker if he could spend a millennium cooped up in your house. "Sure," he says.
He walks in, and there's silence. "No one's home?" he asks.
"Yeah," you say. "They should be back soon though."
He hums in response, through muscle memory alone, as though dragged by strings he removes and places his shoes in the rack. The same place he's been placing them for years. And then, he blindly follows you down to the kitchen.
The kitchen is dimly lit, the only source of light coming from the small hanging lamp above the kitchen slab. You set the kettle on the stove, the sound of its soft whistle filling the room as it begins to heat up. Gojo takes a seat at the table, his fingers tapping absentmindedly on its surface.
You busy yourself with preparing the tea, the gentle rustle of tea bags as you move them. There's a muted grassy smell that's emanating from the tea, but it's not strong enough to overwrite all the tension in the air, a lingering curiosity that just won't leave you alone.
"So," Gojo begins, breaking the silence. "That guy, you really going to go on a second date with him?"
You glance over your shoulder, meeting his gaze. "I don't know. Maybe. He's nice."
He smirks, leaning back in the chair. "That's nice."
"What about you? How did your date go? You know apart from terrible," you grin.
"Well, it was also 'horrible'," he says, mirroring your grin.
"Date with Gojo and horrible. Seems about right," you say.
"Oh, come on. It was an off-day. I can be a very good date," he says.
"Why was she so mad then?" you ask. "Your date."
"Well, I'm sure you heard most of it," he starts, truly wanting to know if you did, but your expression remains muted. He can't tell, but it seems obvious. It's why he's here and not halfway back home, after all. "But I, uh, I got her caramel chocolates."
You wait.
"She hates caramel," he adds with a small pout.
"Ah, smooth. I've changed my mind about you, Gojo Satoru, you would make the best date ever."
He grins. "Thank you, kindly."
Your tea seems about done, so you reach up, opening the cabinet, but the classes are placed too far back for your height. And generally, you'd pull a chair and get the cups, but before you could, Gojo's right behind you, reaching for it before you could move back. He pulls out two cups, one plain pink one with hearts and another white mug with a bear on it. His and yours.
It reaches the slab with a soft clink, but before Gojo can move away, you speak up, "So, what did she mean?"
"What are you talking about?" He asks, plainly.
"You know," you say, stressing, as you turn to face him. You're so close to him now, but he doesn't move back. For once, he doesn't move back. You gulp, "You know what, Satoru."
"I don't," he says. His grin is gone, and his lips are in a line. You've never truly seen him this way.
"Bullshit, what did she mean by 'you like your friend's sister'?" you almost half-yell.
"Ignore her. She was just talking nonsense because she was mad at me."
"Was she, though?" you press, studying his expression more closely now.
He resigns with a sigh, as he begins to move. "Yes. Now, drop it."
"No," you say, as your hand comes up to hold his own. "So, she was just making it up?" you ask, incredulously.
"Yes," he says.
"And you don't like me?" you ask. This time, you move closer to him, his lips practically a few centimeters away from yours.
"Look, it doesn't matter what she said. I was just trying to save your date, be a good friend to your brother, and all that."
You scoff, trying to mask the lingering disappointment. "Save my date? By ruining it completely?"
"How did I ruin it?" he asks.
"Oh? I don't know, the same way you always ruin things for me. Just by showing u—"
And that's all it took, really. For his lips to meet yours. His hands find themselves on your hips as yours rest on your shoulder and his chest. Your lips move roughly against his. It's not like any of those soft first kisses you see on TV. This one feels like yearning. You feel it in your heart and in the way your arms tug his body into your own.
When he pulls off, you feel strangely disappointed.
"I'm serious. If you didn't show up, that could've gone somewhere," you say. A little proud of yourself for not giving in so easily.
"Gone where exactly? The park? You know you deserve more than the fucking park."
"What? Sure, I wouldn't end up married to this guy, but does it matter? I was moving on," you say with a shrug.
"Moving on from what exactly?" he asks.
"From you, obviously stupid."
Gojo's expression shifts, a mixture of surprise and something else, something you can't quite read. Your grip on his hand tightens just a bit, and for a moment, neither of you says anything.
"Moving on from me?" he finally repeats, his voice softer than before.
"Yeah, Satoru, from you." You pull your hand away, breaking the contact.  "It's about time, isn't it?"
The kettle on the stove whistles, signaling that the water is ready for the tea, but neither of you moves to attend to it.
"Look," he starts, his tone serious, "I didn't mean to mess up your date. I was just trying to have some fun and play the hero for a bit. I didn't think you'd actually be interested in that guy."
"Well, you thought wrong," you reply, crossing your arms. "I was giving it a shot, trying to move on. But you can't resist bringing everything back to you, can you?"
"I'm sorry, okay? I didn't think it through." His shoulders slump a bit, and he runs a hand through his hair as his head falls onto your shoulder. "I just... I couldn't stand seeing you with someone else."
"So, your date wasn't wrong then?" you say.
"Yeah," he says, and you feel the breath of his words on your neck. "I guess, she wasn't."
The kettle continues to whistle, now completely forgotten in the background.
"I don't believe you," you say.
"What?" he looks up now, his eyes looking at your face. "I just told—"
"You can tell me whatever you want," you say, frustrated. "But you don't even remember my birthday. How could you like me if—"
"I remember," he says. "I remember your birthday."
"But you—"
"I know, I know, baby." His hands come up to hold your cheek. "It's stupid, but I guess I was scared. It's stupid and not an excuse. But of course, I remember your birthday. I could never forget."
"Scared?" you repeat. "Scared of what, Satoru?"
"It's not that simple. You're Getou's sister. I can't just..."
"Can't just what?" you challenge, even if his thumb moving against the supple of your cheek thaws your heart red. "You can't just admit that maybe, just maybe, I'm worthy of being liked by you?"
"It's not that," he sighs, frustration evident in his expression. "It's complicated, okay? I didn't want to complicate things between us. I didn't want to risk our— whatever it is that we have between us."
"I get it," you say, a few moments later to his surprise and your own.
"You do?"
"Yeah," you say, reaching up to leave a soft kiss on his lips. Soft. Delicate. Like your touch could break him. "I do. I really do, and we'll figure it out, okay?"
His ears perk up as he turns, and the soft purring of the car engine comes to a halt. He can't believe he didn't notice your parents pulling in with your brother.
Your hands reach out to hold his own, and he realizes that they're trembling, just a little. And he gets it now. To love is to be afraid.
337 notes · View notes
maniacwatchestheworld · 3 months
Text
Another DPxDC story idea/prompt sorta thing (#3)
I don't know that all you all DPxDC peeps fully realize what you've done with deciding to make ectoplasm basically the same material what's in Ra's Al Ghul's Lazarus Pits... Because basically, what you've all done is turn the Lazarus waters from a resource that is INCREDIBLY rare and limited, that a singular man controls and keeps a secret from the rest of the world, and made it accessible to anyone with the gumption and ability to attack and hunt ghosts. In other words... You've all made a CURE for ANY and ALL terminal conditions readily accessable via harassing any ghost and have therefore given everyone a very justifiable motivation to hunt ghosts and juice them for as much ectoplasm as possible!
Let me say it again. Lazarus Water is a cure for ANY terminal issue! Terminal brain cancer? Cured! Got shot and are bleeding out? Cured! Did a backflip off of a cliff and landed on your neck? There's no cure for stupid, but that whole dying thing can be CURED! And only at the cost of temporary insanity! (Or sanity if you were already insane. :p ) As long as you are about to die or were brought in just after dying, you can be cured of whatever would have killed you!
Of course Ra's would want to control this resource as much as possible once these properties are discovered, as I've discussed before. But after Ra's has been dealt with... Wouldn't it be quite callous and cruel to keep this a secret...? If you harvested a bit of ectoplasm from some ghosts... No child would ever have to die of a terminal illness ever again... Babies born in precarious situations could be healed with very little risk. Loving parents would never have to worry about dying and leaving their children behind with no one to care for them... Certainly Batman could not allow such injustices to continue when there could be such an easily replicable cure!
So here's a thought... After Ra's Great Ghost Juicening (tm), Jack and Maddie start an ethical ghost catch and release program. They capture invasive ghosts that are living in the human realm, capture, and release them back into the Ghost Zone, but before releasing them back into the ghost zone, they are given a health check-up, and are given the option of donating ectoplasm for terminally ill humans! (It would basically be the ghost equivalent of donating blood.) Maddie and Jack are more than happy to give the ghosts passing through fair compensation, of course! But since money largely doesn't mean anything to ghosts, it would have to come in the form of like... Objects they like or tasks that they want done for them. So Jack and Maddie might give the Box Ghost a palette of unbuilt boxes! Or they might give Technus whatever old technology is sitting around the house that isn't being used! Danny can be rewarded for donating with his favorite meal. If Vlad is behaving and donating, they can reward him with kisses.
160 notes · View notes
aibloomie · 1 year
Text
KISSING XIAO UNTIL HE FALLS ASLEEP <3 (just pretend he actually sleeps and dreams shh)
Tumblr media
ft: xiao x gn!reader
→ just pure and wholesome kissing, not really nsfw <33 this is funny to me because I literally just wrote a headcanon acknowledging the fact he DOESN'T sleep but it's okay. just had the need to write these before heading off to sleep, I better dream of him istg
Tumblr media
the passion xiao held for you was unlike any other. his dilated pupils were a dead give away, paired with the way he looked at you as if you were the only living being that mattered. the manner in which he held you was enough to make butterflies stir within your stomach, hell it made you unable to think straight in the middle of the night when you would reminisce such intimate moments.
nothing and nobody would ever be able to replicate the way he made you feel. but as if you weren't already hooked enough, the adeptus himself was even more infatuated with you. he could no longer hide his overwhelming feelings for you. and how could he when all he could think about from morning until night was you? he would always be mesmerized by you, no matter if he was sent to entirely different reality plane from you. he simply could— and would, never be able to get enough of you.
he made that abundantly clear as his hands carefully explored up and down your torso and his lips moved flawlessly in sync with your own. you placed your hands on his chest to stabilize yourself as you pulled back to catch your breath.
the shiny gloss accentuating your swollen lips due to his kisses was enough to drive him insane. "you're breathtaking." he commented, lifting your chin up so he could look you in the eye.
you broke out into a smile, "yeah? I could say the same to you seeing as I'm having a hard time breathing just from kissing you." you pulled in for a short kiss and your next words were spoken in a whisper, "not that I'm complaining though."
under the beautiful illumination of the moonlight, you managed to see the flustered expression that xiao had from your tone of voice. thank god he wasn't standing or else his knees would feel weak. he responded by clutching onto the cloth of your shirt, his eyes scanning your expression before he buried his face into your neck.
"I can't believe this is actually happening." his warm breath tickled you. he truly believed his feelings for you were unrequited at one point, given how often he had to leave you because of his unavoidable responsibilities. and also considering how cold he had once been towards you, and how difficult it was to get him to open up. but this moment was real, you loved him too, and he was reminded of it by the chills he got whenever you touched him in any way.
xiao felt your fingers start threading through the soft and fluffy strands of his hair. it was like you had reached up and switched the "off" button for his mind, because his head went blank and all he could do was relish your gentle and loving touch.
the hold he had on your shirt slowly began to soften as you continued caressing him. you could feel his soft sighs and muffled incoherent mumbles against your skin, it made you smile because xiao was so incredibly unpredictable and vulnerable when he was truly comfortable. you had managed to get past his tough walls, and finally be able to make him feel safe like he has always done to you.
it took him a while to lift his head up again, he ached to continue kissing you but at the same time he was so comfortable in the warm confines of your arms that he could easily fall asleep against you in seconds. noticing his heavy and tired eyes, you placed your hands on either side of his high and defined cheekbones, brushing your fingers softly to trace them. "sleepy?"
"mmm." he replied, his eyes moving from your eyes and down to your lips in slow and repeated movements. "don't stop though." his voice was quiet, but ever so needy.
with an eager smile, you leaned in and held his face in place so he didn't have to waste energy on controlling his own movements. "it's okay, I'll do the work. you just relax and lay down, okay my love?"
he melted at your words, mumbling out an "okay." you raised your hips up to give him a chance to reposition himself so that he was laying down instead of sitting up against the headboard.
he tried his best to look up at you, but his eyelids were beginning to fail on him. when he felt you inching closer to him. xiao was completely at your disposal, allowing you to do whatever you wanted to him at any given time. he was yours and yours alone. his hands rested on your thighs, using his last energy to gently rub his thumbs against the skin.
being with you truly made him feel as if he was the only other being in the universe aside from you, because you were all he could think about to the point he even dreamed of you every night. perhaps that's why he felt so peaceful about his decision to allow himself to fall asleep— because he knew he'd see you despite whether he was awake or not. he looked forward to the sweet dreams his love for you would spring on.
your one and every kiss felt like silk to him, ever so soft and gentle, but enough to make goosebumps form onto his skin and leave his mind hazy with thoughts of you. he did his best to reciprocate the action, despite his tired state. rather than his heartbeat quickening, it slowed down because he was in complete and utter bliss with you.
"I love you, xiao." your sincere words made the tips of his ears red, and you could feel his cheeks heating up from under your fingertips. you kissed him once again and he could feel you smiling against his lips.
it didn't feel like you were two people kissing each other, but rather two warm souls embracing each other. all it took was for you to land one final kiss onto his forehead for him to finally doze off— waiting until he was in a deep enough sleep to meet you once again in his dreams <3
Tumblr media
762 notes · View notes
nevarroes · 5 months
Note
How do you come up with such great poses, what is your process like? I am in love with ur art.
thank you so much🥺💖
as for the poses... referenced… theyre ALL referenced in some way or another really, honestly I spend more time looking at pictures than actually drawing at this point fuck me....
generally though I have three approaches when it comes to choosing or making poses. The first is literally just referencing some image directly because its a great pose + angle, it happens, rarely, but it does happen gd bless
Second (what happens most of the time) is photobashing the shit out of a pose where I kind of just badly cut together 2-3 photos to get what I want. Then I usually add my 3D face model (I make these unless its like... ingame character then i just yoink it) because I tend to choose more flattering angles for my own sanity and…. yeagh You probably need to get a little bit of a feel for this one and I tend to even liquify the image (to fit stylistically and propertionally to what I want) because it’s gonna look horribly pieced together but if you squint you’ll see if the pose works out in the end iykwim😭 (on a side note I do this for painting references too, even vaguely photobashing and learning rough photo editing will save your ass I'm so serious)
Third one is if I like the pose in some reference but not the angle so I replicate the pose in (usually) MagicPoser so I can make it work in a different angle. but i try to not do this TOO often because in my honest opinion while posing apps can be insanely helpful they also tend to make my own art a good bit stiffer than when I directly reference photos and its like… personally it requires me to actively think about everything I’m drawing way more since stuff like muscle twists and creases etc will never quite be accurate when you reference psoing app so you'll need a good bit more prior knowledge
I hope this helps at all!
133 notes · View notes
bookstantrash · 16 days
Text
A/N: okay so it’s been a good while since I’ve posted anything here on tumblr but the last year has been kinda insane as I’m nearing graduation, and my new internship is keeping me very busy.
I have two more one shots written and one half written, but after that I don’t know how long till I’m able to write again and post. Either way, I hope you enjoy this one shot!
Tumblr media
But this love is brave and wild
Nesta had not intended to snoop through Cassian’s papers. He was — if she was honest with herself — the most organised out of them. Nesta Archeron being a messy person was something that had come as a surprise to Cassian and he teased her endlessly about it.
“I can find everything I need with no problem,” she had argued once when they were laying in bed, “therefore I am not messy. My organisation method is just different from yours General ‘I Colour Code My Folders’ Archeron”
“Whatever you say Nes,” Cassian had laughed, tightening his arms around her. Her mate, she had discovered, was an incorrigible cuddler “I still love you even if you don’t believe in the practicality of keeping things in one place”
She was always leaving books and hairpins all over the House, discarding her boots after training somewhere and forgetting to take them to their room, her notes about the Valkyries, military and Mind Stilling techniques forgotten and scattered in any surface available. The House was constantly gathering and leaving them on her desk, but it usually took her two to three days until she got the courage to sort and put them away properly.  Cassian’s tidy and neatly arranged papers — sorted by importance and filled with carefully written notes — made his desk a stark contrast to her mountain of spread out ones in her side of the room they had transformed into their study room.
They had learned early on that they would never be capable of doing any actual work in their own room when their bed was only a few steps away.
Not that they had not fucked in each and every surface of the House, their study included. It just made the temptation of being all over each other slightly smaller.
Nesta had entered the study and was tidying her desk after the House had made the bathtub water cold and dumped on top of her towel the papers she had forgotten at the dining table.
“I was going to get them later,” Nesta had said, and in turn the military book Cassian had lent her had fallen on the little floating table she used when she wanted to read in the bathtub. She had been meaning to return it to him for over a week, the book forgotten amid her pile of romance books on her bedside table.
“Fine,” she had added, “I got the memo, I will put them in the study.”
So Nesta had gotten dressed in a bathrobe — she had every intention of going back to a bubble bath as a reward for tidying up her things — reordered her romance book stack, and set off for the study, grabbing any paper she had forgotten along the way. She was putting his book on the shelf when she noticed that Cassian had a few papers outside his drawer, something unusual to him.
“I better at least put the paperweight on top of them,” she thought to herself. She did not want to mess up her mate’s drawers and folders in her attempt to clean his desk.
Cassian had left in a hurry after lunch to Illyria — Emerie, Balthazar and him were trying to transform an old property into an orphanage and residence for those who had no place to go. For now the plans were to see how things would go in Windhaven, and then replicate the same in other camps. Apparently some problems had arisen concerning the renovations and he had left to sort things out. That explained why his space was uncharacteristically ‘messy’ for his standards.
Nesta lined his pens and was stacking the papers in a pile when one in particular caught her eye. Most of them were reports regarding Illyria or the Valkyries training plans, but the small piece of paper full of bullet points and notes scribbled in a hurry was neither.
“Is this a checklist of some sorts?” she mumbled to herself, reading it. If it was, Nesta could not make sense of it, for there were sometimes only a page number and an acronym in the same bullet point — “pg. 43, UTOT” —  or phrases and even single words thrown around that made no sense — “ smell of rain”, “traditional dances”, “unicorns”, “pudding”, “peppermint”, “braids” and so on.
The list intrigued Nesta. Maybe Cassian was playing scattergories or some other game with Azriel or Gwyn again and had forgotten to throw it away. Nesta and Emerie had since long ago given up on playing with them — their competitive streak when combined was insufferable, and both girls had decided they would rather discuss their latest read than go through a discussion if “ice” could be considered a colour or not — but Cassian kept playing. According to him their bickering was amusing to watch despite the chances of him winning being rare.
Nesta wondered if Cassian had other lists somewhere, if together they could help her make sense of what they were exactly. She would have to ask him when he came back — which she hoped happened soon. It was almost time for dinner, and they always had their meals together. When they had an assignment that did not require them to stay more than a day away — Nesta had accepted the position of emissary, although she chose which places she wanted to go and with who she wanted to work with, not to say that it gave her a chance to travel for free —  they always tried to come back in time to share meals together. And Cassian had also promised to bake a cake for her, nevermind they lived in a magical house who could do it itself.
So Nesta returned to her bubble bath, the hot water making her sigh with pleasure. A book appeared on her floating table moments later.
“Is this your way of saying ‘good job’ for organising my things?” she asked the House, which made a peppermint tea appear too.
“Thank you,” she said with a smile, and the faelight near the sink glowed brighter, as if it was saying ‘you’re welcome’.
Nesta ended up staying in the bath until her fingers resembled an old lady’s and she had finished her book. It was now late afternoon and no sight of Cassian. She debated starting another book, but she knew it would make her miss her mate even more. She always pictured him as the love interest in her novels.
“Pull yourself together,” Nesta said to herself “it has been less than a day. It is not like we have to be attached to each other all the time”
Truth to be told, Nesta had become rather clingy when it came to Cassian — not as much as him, she doubted there existed someone as affectionate and tender as her mate — but after their mate and wedding ceremony she found herself more comfortable expressing her feelings. She enjoyed having lazy days where she and Cassian would stay near the fireplace — either reading or just talking — or when Cassian would try and teach her how to cook — she now managed to not burn bread but that was it. He was always touching her — a hand on the small of her back, a brush of his hand against hers when he was passing her food, intertwining their legs when they were laying down, flicking her nose when she got annoyed at him… it seemed impossible for him to keep his hands to himself. And that did not bother Nesta at all. In fact, she loved it, and she had realised that she had denied herself of love and made herself so touch starved for so long that now that she could bask in it she was becoming greedy.
For her utter annoyance, Cassian did not return in time for dinner. Nesta ended up going to Feyre’s house to have dinner, and the sight of Nyx — who had just begun to walk — cheered her up a little, as did the chocolate cookies Elain had baked, although she could not help but think about the chocolate cake she had been promised.
Cassian ended up arriving at the House very late into the night, finding Nesta on their bed buried beneath furs, even with the fire lowly crackling in the hearth.
“Hello Nes,” Cassian greeted his mate the second he stepped inside their room, leaving a kiss on top of her head to not interrupt her reading.
“You are late,” was all she said, turning a page. She had ended up choosing one of his war texts to keep herself busy, but his scrawled notes on the margins of the pages did not help her longing.
“I am sorry sweetheart,” he kneeled on the floor beside their bed, taking her free hand on his and playing with her wedding band “Things at Windhaven took longer to resolve than I had intended and Emerie and Balthazar wanted to go over some new plans”
“What can I do to make you forgive me?” Cassian kissed her fingers, giving her his best puppy eyes.
“For starters you can take a bath,” Nesta wrinkled her nose at the dried mud on his boots “And dry your hair properly, I would rather not have you winning about feeling sick later”
“As you wish, Lady Death. Even if the idea of being bedridden and having you take care of me is very tempting” he said with a wink “I will leave you to your book in the meantime.”
Cassian came back less than ten minutes later, leathers gone in favour of soft cotton pants and no shirt, drying his hair with a towel.
“Bath taken and dirty boots have been put away,” he declared, placing the towel on a chair — the House vanishing it moments later — and grabbing a comb.
He sat beside Nesta on the  bed, not having to say anything, only extending the brush in her direction. It had become natural to care for each other’s hair. Nesta still remembered the day she had asked her mate for help with the pins keeping her braid in place, Cassian almost falling in his rush to get to her. He had tenderly taken each one out, massaging her scalp later and carefully brushing her hair.
And the next time they had taken a bath together he had grabbed the shampoo to wash her hair before she could even move. Nesta had almost fallen asleep in the tub with the way he gently shampooed and rinsed her hair. Cassian had confessed to her one day that he had an unhealthy obsession with her hair.
“Oh I know,” she had said with a small secretive smile “I see how you look at me when I am braiding it”.
She also remembered the first time he had ever seen her with her hair down and had called it beautiful, making her blush furiously. And since he began taking care of it Nesta could swear that it had gotten stronger and shinier.
Considering how silky and shiny his hair was, it did not surprise her at all.
Nesta, it turned out, also had an unhealthy obsession with her mate’s hair.
She enjoyed washing and combing it, be it after a bath or after he had come back from a flight from somewhere. She enjoyed learning new braids to braid his hair, especially now that Emerie was teaching her traditional Illyrian hairstyles. She had gotten interested after she saw his hair for their wedding-mate ceremony.
“The Illyrans take great pride in their rituals,” Emerie had told her during the party after the ceremony “Back when we were constantly at war, many years ago during Enalius time, the wives of the warriors would braid tokens of good luck and protection for their husbands. Those with long hair also asked them to apply that pattern to their hairstyle, and we integrated in our culture the costume of different braid patterns depending on the occasion: wars, festivals and ceremonies such as burials and weddings”
“The hairstyle Cassian has now is the common braid style used at wedding ceremonies at Windhaven” Emerie had given her a soft smile “Cassian has no living female relatives, so he asked me to do it for him. I’ve never seen him sit so still for so long”
“Could you teach me?” Nesta had asked, feeling shy all of a sudden “I would like to learn them all so I can braid his hair… and our children’s when the time comes.”
“Of course,” her friend had said, and now whenever they had time Emerie would teach her.
Nesta slowly unknotted Cassian’s hair, and by the way he sighed she knew it would not take long for him to fall asleep.
“All done,” she declared, placing the comb near her book on the bedside table.
“Thank you, Nes” he said, slipping under the furs. He intertwined their legs, hugging her close to himself and burying his face on her neck.
Nesta sighed, instantly feeling warmer. Cassian was like a walking furnace, and even without a shirt he was way warmer than her.
“Am I forgiven now, xe nhia?” he asked, nuzzling her neck “I have bathed, dried my hair and am now fulfilling my duties as your personal Illyrian heater.”
“Perhaps.” she ran her fingers over his arm wrapped around her “You do own me a cake, which I was looking very forward to”
“What if I also made you pudding,” he began trailing kisses over her shoulder “would you like that xe r-endy?”
The terms of endearment in Illyrian made her feel so warm and giddy that Nesta almost let slide one word Cassian had said: pudding.
It was one of the words written on that piece of paper, and now she had the perfect opportunity to ask about it.
“Funny of you to ask me about pudding,” she began nonchalantly “I read something about it today”
“You did?” she could hear the surprise in his voice “Please tell me you were not attempting to cook, we all know how it went last time”
“I set fire to the kitchen one time and you never let it go,” she ruffed with annoyance “No, I did not attempt to cook. But I did find a rather interesting and confusing list with the word pudding on it.”
“What,” Cassian raised his head from her shoulder, and Nesta turned around on his arms to look at him.
“I was tidying up my things when I noticed your desk was uncharacteristically messy. I had only planned to put a paper weight on your papers to hold them down but I ended up reading your list,”
“I am sorry if I did not respect your privacy,” Nesta added in a rush, afraid Cassian might get angry “I did not mean to pry but my curiosity got the better of me and I ended up reading it.”
“I am not mad xe nhia,” Cassian said with a soft smile, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear “You are free to read any and all papers I have. I have nothing to hide, especially from my mate.”
“I am just embarrassed. That is all” he added, and she could see a faint blush dusting his light brown skin.
“Why would you be embarrassed?” she asked, furrowing her brows.
“Because,” he took a deep breath “that was one of the lists I made of topics I wanted to talk with you about. Ever since I met you back when you were human and I used to collect the queen’s letters from you, ever since then I would think of fake conversations and scenarios, building entire conversations inside my head so I could impress you with my comebacks.”
“So that time you stayed circling the house for ten minutes…” she inquired.
“I was compiling a list of chosen insults to throw your way, responses to an invented argument” he groaned, hiding his face on her shoulder “Like a complete fool.”
“You did this back when I was human?” Nesta asked, her love for her big kind hearted mate growing impossibly bigger.
“I never stopped, which might make me even a bigger fool than I was back then,” he admitted, face still hidden “Even after that, when you were Made and I used the excuse of exercising my wings to come and see you, and being together with you felt both so close yet so far given the circumstances”
“Cassian…”
“And even later, when we started living at the House and you were going through so much, trying to get better… I kept coming up with them. Topics I wanted to discuss with you, when we were together but not together. When it was just sex, and I was willing to take whatever you gave me because a little of your time, a little of you, was infinitely better than nothing at all.”
“Conversations we could have had, that I wanted us to have. Issues that I wanted to get your opinion on, if only I was not such a coward. It was always so difficult— I was so scared of ruining whatever I had managed to build with you, of losing you forever” he sighed, finally raising his head “I kept all of them. All of the lists. And I keep finding new things I want to talk with you about and since we got together it seems the list never stops growing. As if I am making up for the time lost, because now we do have that time”
Nesta did not know what to say in answer to that. Sometimes, when she had a bad day and felt like the old bitter and angry Nesta — the one who drowned her problems in alcohol and refused to let herself feel anything good at all — she had to remind herself that she was deserving of the love she had now. That she was deserving of her sisters — the old and the new ones — and of her friends and family.
That she was deserving of such a good male like Cassian. Her mate, her husband, her friend and her family.
“You can laugh if you want,” Cassian said, sounding a bit nervous about her reaction “Cauldron knows I must sound like a madman creating make believe arguments” 
“Why would I laugh when my mate loves me so much that he cannot help but think of me literally every single moment?” Nesta arched an eyebrow, letting all of her love and adoration for him shine through their bond.
“What you just said is book love interest level, Cassian” she kissed him, burying her hands in his hair “I would be a fool to laugh.”
Nesta could see the relief in his eyes and she smiled. “You can ask me anything you want to know, anytime. Especially if it means you will cook more sweets for me, xe porang termireco”
Cassian groaned, rolling them so his weight pressed her down deliciously.
“You will be the death of me, Lady Death” he whispered, nipping at her ear.
“I thought you were tired from your flight” she breathed as he started kissing her neck.
“You know what you speaking Illyrian does to me,” he argued, “especially when you call me your handsome husband ”
And Nesta made sure to call him plenty of things in Illyrian in the next hours, both of them falling asleep only when the sun was rising.
tag list: @sayosdreams @perseusannabeth @arinbelle @letstakethedawn @katekatpattywack @nestaarcheron @imagine-me @sv0430 @starryblueskies7 @live-the-fangirl-life @valkyriewarriors @readskk @wannawriteyouabook @imwritingthesewords @rainbowcheetah512 @moodymelanist @castielspelvis
[Reblogs/likes/comments are always welcomed!!]
54 notes · View notes
w1ldthoughts · 3 months
Text
Groomzilla
A/n: Some Valentine’s Day heartbreak❤️
Tumblr media Tumblr media
“Do you think the place cards should be scarlet or crimson?”
You sigh, rubbing your temples with your index fingers at Jack’s eighth question in the last hour. “They’re both red babe, pick whichever one you want.”
He stands up and shows you the different pieces of paper like that’s going to spark your interest. “These are very different. Scarlet is a lot brighter and crimson is more warm, which one would look better?”
“What does Monica think?” Your fiancé and your wedding planner had been practically attached at the hip since this who process began. He definitely had her on speed dial which made you laugh, only until he inevitably asked you another random question. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to give him your opinion on things, it was just that he desperately wanted to give you the wedding of your dreams and his micromanaging along the way really had you counting down the minutes until he went back to normal.
All you could do was laugh to yourself at his inability to relinquish some control over the planning, even if that was Monica’s literal job. But at the end of the day you couldn’t wait to spent the rest of your days with him, even if he was driving you a little insane. You stood up to meet him at his spot on the couch, taking the laptop from him to look at the screen.
“Well…the crimson looks a lot nicer with the pink and white flowers on the side. Scarlet looks a little too orange.” The light in his eyes when he looks at you sometimes is something you want to bottle up and keep forever. Everyone should experience a love like this in their life and you can’t believe that you’re one of the lucky ones to say that you get to be with your soulmate, for the rest of your life.
You’d always thought about your wedding, making Pinterest boards or taking mental notes whenever inspiration would strike. And then you met Jack and all of the plans you had began to fall into place. This fantasy became an unreal reality. He nodded his head at your suggestion and placed a peck on the side of your head and continued working on other stuff. He had plans to head to a studio to work on some new music this week and hoped that some inspiration would strike to help him write his wedding vows.
The idea of writing your own vows was his and the thought of having to compete with an MC, a literal lyricist in front of all of your friends and family as you poured your heart out to him really made you want to crawl into a hole and never come out.
Jack left early the next morning and would so you tried your best to get some writing done of your own. It wasn’t like you had a lack of feelings, it was finding a way to articulate all of these overwhelming emotions without one, embarrassing yourself by bursting into tears in front of God and everyone but also letting him know how he’d changed your life for the better and gave you a love that was worth a thousand love letters. You spent the first day doing anything to distract yourself, going over the seating chart and making sure that the menu for your bridesmaid lunch the day before the wedding was everything that you wanted.
After practically going over every task possible, you headed to the store to distract yourself even more. You did need to eat dinner at some point. Going up and down the aisles, you really wished you’d made a list before leaving the house and you decided to look on Instagram to find an easy recipe to replicate. For some odd reason, you were inclined to open up your DM requests too. There was a message, a thread of messages actually from some girl detailing an intimate night with your fiancé only three months prior.
I’m so sorry to be the one to tel you this but the guilt has been eating away at me. I saw a TMZ article on Twitter talking about your upcoming wedding and I just couldn’t let you do this without giving you the full story.
She had met Jack in Vegas when he was performing and was somehow invited to the after party. He’d had some shots with her and his friends, dancing the night away. Some time later she found herself making out with him in his presidential suite. One thing led to another and she had been trying to figure out a way to contact him and let him know she’s pregnant.
You probably read those messages 100 times and each time a piece of your heart sank into your stomach. Your mouth went dry and your grocery shopping was forgotten. There was no way you couldn’t confront Jack about this. Without even bothering to pay for any of the stuff in your cart, you left the store and headed to the studio immediately.
Jack was sitting at a large table in a room outside the recording booth and some of his friends were hanging out on the couches. The look on your face must’ve told everyone that this was a serious conversation because the room cleared out almost immediately.
“Baby…” he whispers, “what’s going on?” He stands up to look you over, placing his hands on your shoulders, getting increasingly worried at your void stare. Like you were looking right through him. “Can you tell me what’s going on please? You’re scaring me.”
You handed him the phone and all of the color in his face was drained. “Y/n, I have no idea who this girl is. I promise you, it’s not what you think.”
“Jack there are multiple pictures of you with her at the club. I don’t even know how someone can come to me with this much evidence and I’m not supposed to believe her?” The tremble in your voice was horrifying to you but it devastated him.
“Okay yes, maybe I took a couple pictures with this girl. I take pictures with fans all the time but that other shit? You know I would never ever do that to you. Ever.”
“Do I?” You scoff. “Because I love you Jack but there are still things about your life and career that I’m still getting used to. It’s not easy.”
Jack runs his hands through his curls, feeling his frustration growing but not wanting to fuel the fire. “I get that but you also have to trust me. How are we supposed to be getting married if every time someone messages you, you run to me with these accusations? It creates unnecessary problems and that’s what these girls want.”
He reaches out for you and you can’t bring yourself to let him off that easily. “I’m sorry but this is just a lot. How am I supposed to just get over this?”
“Because that shit isn’t true! And it’s really pissing you off that you don’t believe me.” His body was stiff, limbs suddenly feeling a lot heavier with this invisible weight continually placed on his shoulders. He always felt like he had to prove himself in life and in his career, but it hurt that now he also had to prove himself to you. “I’m not doing this with you. I have to work and if you don’t believe me, then you don’t. I don’t really know what else to tell you.”
Something about him leaving you that room alone felt final. It felt like some sort of goodbye and you really wished that you’d gone about this conversation differently. Maybe the stress of planning a wedding and going through this massive life change had manifested in different ways for you than it had for Jack. He threw himself head first in the planning, controlling every detail and you pushed your emotions and your stress down, until you cracked today at a simple Instagram DM. You knew deep down that he would never hurt you but could you really live the rest of your life wondering if one day he would? Could you handle being the wife of a celebrity and deal with the women would inevitably try to get in the way of what you’d worked so hard to build? Because those 5 messages almost destroyed several years of the best relationship you’ve ever had.
That was all it took. Was your relationship that fragile? Was your trust in him that little? Could your marriage even survive big things if you couldn’t handle these small bumps in the road? The disbelief and pain in Jack’s face when you accused him of cheating was something you’d be replaying in your mind for a long time and you wish you were surprised at the text you received that evening.
I’m staying at Urban’s for the next few days. I think we need to take some time apart and figure out what we really want and if we want those things together. I love you more than anything in this world but if you can’t trust me with the little things, I don’t know if you’ll ever trust me with the big things and that’s what I want in a marriage.
It was gut wrenching but he was right and you had a lot of things to reevaluate. And this was a problem that you would need to navigate alone, not knowing if Jack was ever going to come home to you.
71 notes · View notes